“Yes, certainly,” said Saiet. “I have cows to visit to the north. Would you like to come along? I’ll deposit you in a nice, quiet place with a pretty view. Then I’ll pick you up again on the way back.”

So Lovisa set out with Saiet, wondering what had become of her life that she was a person setting out to sit and stare at nothing, while her companion, an old, creaky man who made no sense to her, visited cows.

She was terrified he would ask her questions as they walked. Or start talking about something ridiculous she didn’t want to think about, like jealousy, or his wife’s many lovers. Or Nev. Lovisa wouldn’t be able to bear it if Saiet started talking about Nev, who had a life Lovisa could never have.

But he walked beside her quietly, then showed her to a hill with a rock shaped like a bench. Hidden from the path, she could see across rolling hills to the wrinkles of a glacier tucked between rises of land. Far, far away, so far it might be Kamassar, she saw mountains with white peaks. It was freezing on her bench. She pulled her fur coat more tightly against her neck.

“Now,” he said. “I won’t be long, but if you get too cold, do you remember the way home?”

“I’ll wait for you,” she said. She watched his tall, narrow form wind its way back to the path until he disappeared, then gazed across the hills to the glacier, the mountains. Nev had said once that in Ledra, everything was stuck, spinning in place. That in the north, she could breathe.

Lovisa stood, walking to a place where she could see the water. Where do I belong? she asked the ocean. What do I do now? Go back to school? How do I do that? She waited for the answers to come, but nothing came.

A movement out at sea caught her eye. Though they were very far away, she recognized the round, sleek, purplish forms of silbercows. With a small, unhappy thud, she remembered a part of the story she’d pushed aside. Her parents had hurt silbercows too. Hadn’t they? Nev had talked of injured silbercows, coming to shore with cuts and burns.

She watched the silbercows turning in the sun. She’d never succeeded in talking to a silbercow before, and she knew she was too far away. But she cried out anyway, because it was part of the reckoning. I’m sorry, she cried to them. I’m sorry.

—

Later that day, Nev found her, curled up in Nev’s bed.

“Lovisa?” she said gently.

“Yes?” said Lovisa, not moving.

“Your brothers are safe,” said Nev. “They’re with the Devrets. The Devrets want to give them a home and take care of them. Even adopt them, if it comes to that.”