It was freezing. Aghast, she strode in up to her thighs, suspecting she was ruining her shoes, her trousers, her coat, and remembering, of course, that she no longer knew where the money would come from to buy new things. The Devrets, probably, which wasn’t right. But Lovisa was beyond that just now. She’d watched a sea monster—the silbercows had said it wasn’t the Keeper, but when she told her brothers this story, they would make it the Keeper—everyone would make it the Keeper—lift the Seashell out of the sea. It was just the sort of thing the Keeper would do. Who cared about her clothes? The ocean had shared a secret with her. A monster had reached out and delivered a miracle. This world kept wanting to be bigger than she was letting it. Why did she keep trapping herself inside small things?

Lovisa had never been so close to a silbercow before. Physically, it was little more than a dark shape rising from the water before her, but in her feelings and her mind, it was a great deal more. As it talked to her, she felt, to be honest, as if her brain were trying to rise out of her skull. It wasn’t an entirely pleasant feeling. Her body became awash in a sadness that she understood was the silbercow’s sadness. She began to cry, at the thought that her parents had done something to hurt this creature. I’m sorry, she started saying again. I’m sorry.

It wasn’t your fault, the silbercow said.

Maybe that was true. But Lovisa was beginning to understand that it was her legacy. I’m going to make up for it, she said, not knowing what it meant, but certain, in that moment, that it was true. I’m going to protect you.

I believe you’re going to try, said the silbercow. I can feel the fire in your heart.

Lovisa saw then that the silbercow was holding a tiny, hard ring in its mouth. She understood that she was supposed to take it. She held out her hand.

The silbercow dropped the ring into her hand. It was cold and wet and small. She understood that she was now tasked with returning it to the queen.

Then she understood something else. A sort of doubtful apology from the silbercow, on behalf of their monster friend, who was very unhappy. Unhappy about the ship? About the drowned humans? Lovisa wasn’t understanding this part entirely, but she did understand that the silbercow wanted to know if she had any . . . it was hard to believe, but the silbercow wondered if Lovisa had any sparkly baubles. Any shiny human thing she didn’t care about. If it could be worn as a ring, so much the better.

For the monster? Lovisa asked, thoroughly confused.

Yes.

The monster wants a sparkly bauble?

It would make her very happy.