“He said the sun and the road were the important parts,” Hæra said. “I think so too. When I die”—which would be sooner, now—“I’ll nourish other things. That’s enough for me.”

Madeleine tilted her head. Her eyes seemed, suddenly, to hold a great truth. It was like how she’d looked at Hæra on the beach when they’d kissed and said they’d learn how to love. “I saw the Great Mare tonight,” she said. “After I ran away from you.”

She seemed completely serious. Just to make sure, Hæra said, “Are you joking?”

Madeleine shook her head and told an incredible story of an enormous Each-uisge made of seawater that had appeared to her at the standing stones. Her description matched the stories of the Great Mare Hæra had heard all her life. Madeleine spoke of the Great Mare’s deep, echoing voice, and of the peculiar “boon” she’d offered if Madeleine sang a song for her. An answer for a question.

By the time she was done, Hæra’s head was spinning. The neck bite didn’t help; it pounded with every beat of her heart. “What question did you ask?”

Madeleine looked to the window again. “I’ll tell you later. That’s not the point. I’m saying I saw her. She was real. I…don’t know exactly how I feel about that, but it’s certainly in keeping with everything else that’s happened to me. She said the world is full of wonder.”

Right now, Great Mare or not, the world only seemed full of pain—and exhaustion. Hæra’s human body was staging a rebellion against consciousness. She couldn’t think about faith, gods, or grief. She lowered her head back to the pillow. Her eyelids were too heavy to keep open. “I’m so tired.”

“Of course you are.” Madeleine rubbed her thumb against the back of Hæra’s hand. “Sleep. We’ll figure things out tomorrow.”

Hæra was weak. So weak. That must be the only reason she said, “Don’t go.”

Ever, she meant. That couldn’t be. Madeleine couldn’t stay on Jorsay forever, it wasn’t legal, and even if it was, she wouldn’t want to.

“I won’t,” Madeleine replied, to Hæra’s shock. “Scoot over. I think there’s room for both of us.”

Oh. Madeleine thought Hæra meant just for tonight. Well, tonight was better than nothing at all, and even with the sweatshirt, Hæra was still so cold. She moved back, and Madeleine kicked off her shoes and eased into bed, fully clothed.

“Roll over?” she suggested.

Hæra did. Now apparently it was her turn to be the “little spoon,” as Madeleine called it. Madeleine’s warm body pressed against her, and Madeleine’s arm slid around her waist.