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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

What a long, strange day it’s been.

The words danced through Madeleine’s mind as she looked at H?ra across the table in the little restaurant near the Kirkwall ferry terminal.

H?ra’s reaction to their mini-tour of the Mainland had let Madeleine know she was telling the truth: she didn’t leave Jorsay much, and she’d seen precious little of the rest of Orkney.

In fact, you’d think she’d never seen a city in her life.

Even Kirkwall—which Madeleine struggled to think of as a “city” per se—seemed to astonish H?ra.

She kept her eyes wide open, looking in shop windows with fascination and pointing out people who struck her as remarkable in one way or another.

A husband and wife speaking Russian (“I’ve never heard that language before!”), a man so tall he loomed over everyone else (“I suppose he feels self-conscious a lot.”), and another couple shepherding their five children through the streets (“They must really enjoy having sex.”).

Madeleine hadn’t been able to summon even a choked reprimand at the last one.

H?ra’s tone hadn’t been suggestive or mischievous at all—she might have been making any ordinary observation.

Not that anything about H?ra was ordinary.

That was as evident now as ever.

They’d been served ten minutes ago, and H?ra had still spent more time looking around the restaurant than eating.

“How’s your dinner?” Madeleine asked.

H?ra started—she had been looking at the bar—and glanced down at her plate of fish and chips.

“It’s very…cooked,” she said.

“You mean overdone?” Their haddock filets seemed perfectly golden and crispy.

“I suppose. Yes.” H?ra looked back at the bar.

“Do you enjoy alcoholic drinks?”

No way was she telling H?ra about the Applebee’s cocktails.

“On occasion. You?”

“Jonathan doesn’t keep alcohol in the house, and my family didn’t drink. I’ve never tried it.”

Madeleine’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“On my honor.” H?ra turned her sharp eyes back on Madeleine.

“Should I try it tonight?”

“You’ve honestly never had a drink until now.” Yes, she sounded skeptical, but so what?

At least that was honest. “You never snuck a beer with your friends or tried it on your own?”

H?ra didn’t seem offended by Madeleine’s naked disbelief.

“I didn’t really have friends. Alcohol wasn’t part of our culture. And I’ve heard it’s sad to drink alone.”

More puzzle pieces to put together.

Madeleine could barely keep up with them all.

H?ra had grown up moving from place to place with a spotty education and few social skills.

She’d also indicated that she might have been forced to read the Bible growing up.

Now Madeleine learned alcohol wasn’t “part of the culture.” Had H?ra been raised among religious extremists?

Maybe even in a cult?

Maybe you shouldn’t judge people whose lives were shaped by dogmatic religious practice, she thought ruefully, especially when they get away from it .

“If you want to try your first drink tonight, don’t let me stop you,” she said.

“Just don’t go overboard.”

“You mean drink so much I’ll fall off the ferry? I doubt it.” H?ra flagged down their waitress.

“Here she comes. What should we get?”

“Uh…you can’t go wrong with a nice glass of wine. And white wine goes best with fish.”

The waitress arrived.

H?ra said, “We’ll have two glasses of white wine, please.”

“Right.” The waitress smiled.

“Do you know which white you’d like?”

H?ra frowned, then cast a sidelong glance at Madeleine.

“Do you know?”

Madeleine hid a smile and leaned forward toward the waitress.

“I don’t,” she said.

“Can we see the list?”

“The wine-dark sea,” Madeleine murmured.

H?ra wasn’t sure what she meant by that.

She was sure, however, that Madeleine’s body was quite close to hers as they strolled along the dock outside the Jorsay ferry terminal.

Their arms were touching, even though they had their hands in their pockets.

Wine was interesting, it turned out.

She hadn’t minded the Pinot Grigio after the first couple of sips.

It wasn’t salty like she usually preferred her beverages, but neither was it sweet.

A bit sour, perhaps: not unpleasant.

Having finished two glasses, she felt calmer.

The restaurant had been a disturbing experience at first—far more than Skara Brae.

It was one thing to be surrounded by a load of humans when you were outside and moving around.

It was another to sit still and be packed in like a sardine swarm within an enclosed space, unable to smell the sea.

But the wine had had a relaxing effect, and now she walked with Madeleine in a merry mood as the sun dipped lower over the horizon.

It had stayed out all day today, and there was still over an hour left before dark fell completely.

How rare to have felt sunlight on her face for so long.

That said, the amount of light made Madeleine’s statement even more puzzling.

“The sea’s not dark,” H?ra said.

“Nor was the wine.”

“I know. It’s a quote from the Odyssey .”

The title was familiar.

“Isn’t that a story about somebody going on a long journey?”

“Yes! Odysseus.” Madeleine sounded impressed by H?ra’s knowledge; H?ra couldn’t help puffing out her chest a bit.

“He’s trying to go home, but it takes him so long that when he finally gets back, everything is different.” She giggled.

“Reminds me of…well, me.”

Madeleine had also ordered two glasses of wine, though she hadn’t finished the second.

She looked more relaxed as well.

In fact, she’d been wearing a little smile ever since they got off the ferry, where the wine hadn’t agreed with her as much.

“Are you different?” H?ra asked.

“Or are you more your true self than you’ve ever been?”

“Wow. You’re deep when you’ve had a drink or two.”

Then Madeleine slid her right arm into the crook of H?ra’s left one.

That put them even closer together.

H?ra managed not to stop in her tracks.

This was even more intimate than when they’d held hands in the Skara Brae museum.

She’d done that so the crowd wouldn’t separate them—a thin excuse, but at least it was one.

There was no excuse now for Madeleine to link their arms together.

H?ra wasn’t about to protest. A few days in, and there was already nothing like Madeleine’s touch.

“I’ve been pretty deep, yes,” she said, thinking of the marine abysses into which she’d plunged until her body couldn’t withstand the pressures.

The witch’s whirlpool had been deep too.

By now, H?ra understood enough of humans to know Madeleine meant metaphorically deep, but the two experiences felt similar.

“I’m sure you have been. Given what you’ve told me about your upbringing, I bet you’ve been to some pretty deep places. Maybe some dark ones.”

Dark.

Yes. H?ra hadn’t seen the sun for years after she was born.

The witch had looked up with no light in her hollow eyes as two corpses whipped around her.

And Calder, Asgall, and Beathag had tried to kill her in the dead of night.

H?ra turned her face from the sea.

“Let’s get farther inland, toward the village. You must be chilly in the wind.”

“I think I’m getting used to it. And the wine helps. And you.”

H?ra looked down at Madeleine to see her looking back.

The lowering sun turned her eyes the color of spring grass again.

“You’re warm,” Madeleine continued.

“On the night we met, you were standing outside without even wearing a jacket.”

Oh dear.

That had been a careless slip on H?ra’s part.

“I was cold, I just didn’t show it. In fact, I’d like to get out of the wind myself.” She tugged gently and turned them away from the dock toward Thornhill.

The closer they got to evening, the more dangerous it was for her to be within sight of the sea.

She’d already indulged herself too much today.

Madeleine went without protest and kept her arm linked with H?ra’s.

Together, they climbed an uphill paved path that led to a wide alley between two brick buildings.

The alley would lead up to the main street, and from there it was only a few blocks to Madeleine’s hotel.

The inhabitants on either side of the alley had gone to some effort to beautify the place.

Boxes and barrels of flowering plants lined the path.

Greenery climbed the stone walls, dotted with the occasional rose or speedwell.

Humans did this sort of thing: adding decoration to places for no practical reason.

It didn’t conceal them from predators or attract mates.

Yet it stirred…something…

in H?ra to see the bright colors against the drab stone.

A bit like her rainbow.

“How lovely,” Madeleine said as they walked down the alley.

“Look at the flowers. In fact, hold on a second.”

H?ra waited for Madeleine to start snapping pictures with her mobile.

Humans were fond of doing that in moments like this.

But instead, Madeleine bent to sniff a pink, fluffy rose.

The movement pushed out her bottom.

Her jeans fit her well.

H?ra swallowed.

“Wonderful.” Madeleine straightened up.

“There’s a reason they tell you to stop and smell the roses. Come on, you do it too.”

At least she hadn’t caught H?ra ogling her arse.

“If it’d please you.”

Madeleine looked in her eyes.

“It would.”

H?ra’s heart hammered as she bent to inhale the scent of the rose.

It was sweet, almost overpoweringly so, but pleasant.

She was used to how land plants smelled by now, and this was nicer than most.

“Tropical plants grow well in New Orleans,” Madeleine said.

“It’s hot there. You might melt.”

H?ra turned to face her.

Madeleine was standing closer now, her face upturned as she gave H?ra an earnest look.

She was very beautiful.

And far more relaxed than H?ra had ever seen her.

There could be a reason for that.

“Did you drink too much?”

Madeleine laughed.

“One-and-a-half glasses isn’t enough to knock me over. Just enough to make me think that some things I was worried about aren’t that terrible, you know? And it’s such a beautiful night, and these are such beautiful flowers, and you’re…” She trailed off and kept looking into H?ra’s eyes.

H?ra’s heart was whale song: a thundering, irresistible call.

She whispered, “What am I?”

Before Madeleine could answer, H?ra’s hand did what it had wanted to do that first night in the kitchen.

It reached up to touch Madeleine’s face.

Her skin was soft as the rose petals.

Madeleine’s exhalation was barely audible.

Perhaps human ears could not have heard it.

But the dilation of her pupils was obvious, as was the soft parting of her lips.

At that moment, H?ra knew what she was.

I’m hers .

And after six years, drawn to Madeleine’s heat like sea fog to the land, H?ra kissed her.