“There’s no music or entertainment,” Hæra continued. “The closest I came to idle conversation was my brother’s taunts. I sought often to be alone—it was less lonely than being with the rest of my kind. It’s different here. I’m not lonely with Jonathan. Or with you.”

She turned, finally, to Madeleine, who looked up at her with wide eyes.

“I would still rather go back there,” she said, “than live by your books and hate what I am.”

Madeleine’s hand gripped Hæra’s arm, as if in a spasm. She looked as if she couldn’t speak.

Just as well. Hæra was out of words herself. She couldn’t continue with the truth: that she would have to return to the sea eventually and either seek to live alone as a rogue Each-uisge until she couldn’t fend for herself anymore, or face execution by the herd. A lonely end, no matter how you looked at it.

But she would know who she was and who she’d been, and she’d have no regrets.

“I’ve learned so much,” she told Madeleine. “I’ve learned that life isn’t what I always thought it was. I wish you would too. Then…”

Madeleine blinked once, then twice. Her eyes were wet. As Hæra watched, a tear streaked down from one of them, down her cheek. She choked, “Then what?”

There were so many options. Then you could share this world with me. Then we could be together, for a time. Then I could have what I want, which is…which is…

“Then you could be happy,” Hæra said, her voice quiet with the truth. “That’s what I want.”

Madeleine gasped. She clapped a hand over mouth, and more tears flowed from her eyes while her shoulders shook.

Madeleine’s pain burned Hæra, as painfully as fire must. This time, she’d inflicted it. One month ago, on a darkened street, Madeleine had told her, You already ate me up. There’s only bones left.

Without permission, swift as thought allowed, Hæra wrapped her arms around Madeleine’s bones and flesh, pulling her close. Madeleine clung back, digging her fingertips into Hæra’s back while she pressed her face into Hæra’s shoulder and wept. “I don’t deserve to be happy,” she sobbed.

“Why not?” Hæra tightened her grip. If only she could pull Madeleine into her own body somehow and keep her safe from these awful ideas.

“I’ve hurt people⁠—”

“Who?”

“And I’ve done wrong⁠—”

“How?”

“Because I’m bad, I’m just bad, that’s all!” Madeleine dug her fingertips into Hæra’s back even harder. It hurt, but it couldn’t hurt nearly as much as what seemed to torture Madeleine now. “I’ve never been what I’m supposed to be!”