Hæra said nothing. Her face was still again, as impossible to read as the stone cliffs looming over the sea.

“You said, last night, that you were one of my answers,” Madeleine whispered. “You have questions too. I know you do.”

After a pause, Hæra said, “Yes. I do.”

“Can you help me?” Madeleine stepped forward and looked up into Hæra’s eyes. “I’m not saying I deserve it, or that you owe me something, but…”

“Owe you something,” Hæra said softly.

“I just said you don’t,” Madeleine growled. Couldn’t Hæra let her get through this? “I’m asking anyway. Just talk to me about this. And after that, you don’t ever⁠—”

Her breath caught on the next words, but she had to say those too.

“You don’t ever have to talk to me again, if you don’t want to,” she said thickly. “I wouldn’t blame you, honestly.”

How could she? Nobody could blame Hæra for not wanting to talk to a woman more than a decade her senior who’d pushed her away after a few kisses and was now talking about a supernatural horse.

Hæra said nothing. She looked into Madeleine’s eyes, seeking something that Madeleine must let her find, no matter how frightening the thought.

“You have great strength,” Hæra said, after an endless pause.

“No, I don’t. If I did, this would have happened before.” Madeleine swallowed hard. “But it’s happening now.”

“Because now you’re ready.”

“I am not ready. That’s not the point.” Madeleine shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. Her right shoulder was chilly from where the horse had torn the fabric off. “But I’m doing it anyway. Will you help me? Can you?”

Hæra turned to look at the pasture for a long, silent moment. Then she returned her gaze to Madeleine. She pursed her lips. Inhaled through her nose. Closed her eyes. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“To get something.”

Without further explanation, Hæra returned to the house, her shoulders slumped and her hands in her pockets.

Madeleine stared after her. What could Hæra need to “get” in the middle of this conversation? Maybe she was going to tell Jonathan that Madeleine needed to be taken into professional care right away. Let her, then. Madeleine knew her truth, or was beginning to. She set her jaw, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the fence post, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the closed door. Whatever came through it, she was ready for it.

As it happened, only Hæra came through it a few minutes later, still with her hands in her pockets. This time, she held her head higher, and she strode more quickly. In fact, she made for Madeleine like a ship cutting through water, her eyes hard with purpose.