That was why she liked the Bible so much: it was old. At Jonathan’s suggestion, she’d started reading it for insight into what Sister Madeleine believed. Now, after she’d been slowly making her way through it for years, she had a list of questions to discuss when Sister Madeleine finally arrived.

Question One: in Genesis, water existed before everything else. Didn’t that suggest something about the superiority of the ocean over the land? Question Two: when Noah’s great flood receded, many ocean creatures must have died—why was that fair? Question Three: why hadn’t Jonah simply asked the whale to spit him out? Whales were generally polite and accommodating.

She had many such questions. Jonathan said they didn’t have proper answers, but he wasn’t an expert. Sister Madeleine must know, even if she actually believed the stories were true. As far as Hæra was concerned, they couldn’t possibly be, but that didn’t matter.

Sister Madeleine didn’t know that the Great Mare had birthed the ocean and the Great Stallion had shat out the land. She might not take to the idea, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t talk about it.

What might happen next was still unclear. Was Sister Madeleine still Hæra’s chosen prey? If Hæra returned to her true form and devoured her—gaining her strength—would she be able to return to the herd in triumph? Even the Sire wouldn’t be able to deny that she’d played what Jonathan called “the long game” to do something remarkable.

Her dream didn’t have to be out of reach forever. The stormy sky could still be hers. Perhaps.

She’d decide when Sister Madeleine finally returned. Once she saw those grass-green eyes again, she’d know what to do.

In the meantime, there was a task at hand. With her tongue pressed between her lips, Hæra made her way through a maths exercise. These were word problems, meaning she had to read as well as work with numbers. A challenging combination.

She worked until the sky was lighter and then packed her things away. She looked about and sighed. It would likely be a day like any other, wearing at her like the oceans wore at the cliffs over time. Hæra took another look round. The sheep seemed steady on their feet. Brodie sat watchfully. All was well, and it was time to go back.

The Gator rumbled and bumped. The morning mists were clearing, and the farm came into view through them.

The tallest structure was a barn that contained two tractors, a trailer, and room for silage bales. Next to it stood a long shed that served for lambing, shearing, and dosing the sheep, depending on the time of year.