“Well, obviously I’m not going to tell you, if they’re dangerous!” said Nev. “But I talk to the silbercows sometimes; I always have. We grow up talking to them in the north. And they tell me things. They tell me and Quona Varana. And Quona says that now I have to keep quiet, and go. I don’t even trust Quona!” she said. “But she’s convinced me to go.”

Lovisa was now fighting to breathe. What might the silbercows know, what might they be saying? “Who else have you told about this besides me?”

“No one. Why? What’s wrong?”

Lovisa was deeply, intensely relieved that Nev was going home, if Nev had learned any of the things Lovisa knew. Maybe she’d be safe at home. “Nev,” she said, “don’t tell anyone else about any of it. Will you promise me you won’t tell anyone else?”

“Lovisa!” said Nev, staring at her with new alarm. “What’s going on? What do you know?”

Lovisa realized then that she was holding her cup so hard that it was shaking. How she must look. She breathed, then breathed again. “I can’t explain,” she said. “I can’t tell you any more than you can tell me. And I’m sorry. But it’s not safe for you to talk about any of it right now. Quona is right to swear you to silence and send you away. Do you trust me? I mean, of course you don’t trust me. I understand that.” She forced herself to take a sip from her cup. “But will you promise me not to tell anyone?”

“I don’t know,” said Nev. “Why should I do that?”

“Because it will keep you alive,” said Lovisa.

Nev stood suddenly, sweeping her blanket over her shoulders, crossing the room to stand with Lovisa in the window. On the way, she bent down and lifted the fox kit into her arms. Together, they looked out through the glass, not talking. Nev held the fox kit close, her blanket cape brushing against Lovisa’s shoulder. She was so tall. Lovisa wanted to lean into her.