To be without Madeleine—now of all times. It wasn’t just now, though. Ever since the night she’d realized she couldn’t kill Madeleine, the end of summer had hung over her like an axe on a fraying rope. She’d known their time together must end and had tried to focus on embracing every moment before it did. She’d never imagined it ending like this: not with her returning to the sea to die, but living a drastically shortened life on land without the man who’d been her mainstay for years.

And without the woman whose memory had sustained her, and whose reality had surpassed her wildest dreams.

The pub door closed behind her, and someone lightly touched her elbow. Madeleine, of course. “Ready to go?”

“Yes,” Hæra said, her mouth dry, instead of asking the question she really wanted to.

Which was, as she looked down into Madeleine’s verdant eyes: Are you?

The day had wrung Madeleine dry. She ought to stay awake and keep Hæra company, but her eyes were sagging shut. Hæra didn’t seem inclined to talk anyway. She was pretending to sleep while Madeleine held her.

When Hæra had been an Each-uisge, she’d done the holding. Now, her softer human body lay curled in front of Madeleine’s each night. Its warmth usually lulled Madeleine to sleep after a series of long, difficult days.

Yes…sleep…Madeleine needed…

“You have to leave soon,” Hæra said roughly.

Madeleine’s eyes opened wide.

“Jim said so. Your school starts soon. You have to go home.”

She was right. It was nearly August. Lancaster public schools started in less than a month, and Madeleine had to be there a week before then. She had under two weeks to stay in Orkney.

It would be enough time to help Hæra sort out what remained of the logistics. They’d already met with the lawyer in Kirkwall; Madeleine had taken diligent notes while Hæra remained silent and subdued. She’d sent copies of the death certificate to banks and insurance companies. She’d worked with Connor, whom Jonathan had named his executor, and who’d clearly been taken by surprise by that.

That wasn’t what Hæra was worried about.

Lightly, Madeleine said, “Anxious to get rid of me?”

She should’ve known that was the wrong tactic. Hæra’s grip on human humor wasn’t the best even on good days. She rolled over. Hæra might be human now, but she still had amber eyes Madeleine had never seen on a human face. Now they blazed. “I don’t want you to leave.”

This conversation was always going to happen. Madeleine still wasn’t ready for it. It was easy to bungle sensitive subjects when you were exhausted. Especially when the answer you most wanted to give—I won’t leave—wasn’t the one you had to give.