The Great Mare. The creature who’d supposedly given birth to the ocean. The only thing Hæra had ever seemed to reverence. She’d never used the word goddess, but it seemed apt.

For a moment, Madeleine’s brain dug in its heels. Supernatural creatures made of flesh and blood were one thing. But the First Commandment was extremely clear: she must worship no other gods before God himself.

However, that didn’t mean she shouldn’t be polite. As the creature had said, Madeleine was very small. “Good evening,” she croaked.

The Great Mare made a wet noise. It wasn’t horselike, as Hæra’s sounds were, but an echo of the ocean depths. It sounded like a chuckle.

Madeleine’s eyes darted back and forth. The moon shone off the Great Mare’s liquid hide; she cast a glow all about her that caught the edges of the ancient stones. This place no longer seemed of the human world at all. “Is—is this your home? Is that why you, uh, came here?”

“My home is not of the land.” Scorn roiled in that voice, for Madeleine in thinking something so ridiculous. “But this spot is sacred after a storm, when approached by a human connected to my kind. Such a human is worthy. That does not happen often—such a connection generally means your death.”

Madeleine shuddered.

“It is a place of power, and I can be here for a little while. Besides, did you not call for aid?”

Madeleine could say, I didn’t mean you, but that seemed unwise. Was it rude to stay on her rear? It probably was, right? She pressed her dirty palms against the stone behind her and slowly rose to her feet. “It’s, um, an honor to meet you.”

Her voice was shaking. Why couldn’t she sound respectful but calm?

Because a horse made out of the ocean was towering over her, that’s why. If only there was time for a real prayer to Mary or one of the saints, a prayer for intercession and protection. As it was, she didn’t even dare cross herself. It might anger the creature.

It might not work.

It might not even mean anything.

“I was here not so long ago,” the Great Mare said, “some few turns of the world around the sun. After another storm, I appeared to a man who came to this place, who was bound to another of my children. He was drunk.”

Jonathan. It must have been. The Great Mare had appeared before Jonathan, and he’d never said anything about that either.

“He sang to me,” the Great Mare said. “A song about a young queen of seventeen turns who loved to dance. He danced for me. It pleased me.” She cocked her head to the side. A spray of water hit the ground. “For this, I offered him a boon. Do you seek one too?”