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“I’d help you no matter how long I was going to be here. I want to, and I’m good at this stuff.” She put her hand on Haera’s hip.

“You can be too. I know it seems like a lot right now, but you can.”

“I won’t do it alone,” Haera said.

“Jim told me he and Connor would help, and he’ll ask some other farmers if they’ll teach me about how to be in charge. And it’s not as if I don’t know anything about what Jonathan did. I’ll be all right.”

Madeleine’s stomach clenched.

She forced a smile. Of course Haera would be.

She could do anything she put her mind to, including running a farm or becoming human.

If she wanted to become the best farmer in Orkney, no doubt she’d…

Madeleine blinked.

“What is it?” Haera asked.

Madeleine said, slowly, “Do you want to be a farmer?”

Haera frowned.

“I mean, we’ve been working on the assumption that you’re going to take over the farm. But you don’t have to.” Madeleine’s heart began to hammer in her chest. Wherever she was going with this, it could lead to something big.

“You could sell it and live some other way.”

Haera stared at her.

Then she rolled over on her back.

Madeleine’s hand fell from her hip.

“And do what?” she asked.

“Come with you?”

The word yes was already halfway in Madeleine’s mouth.

As preposterous as it would seem to anyone else, she didn’t want to imagine anyone other than Haera sitting next to her on the flight home.

Instead, what about introducing Haera to Becca, who’d exclaimed happily over every photo Madeleine had sent?

She could picture taking Haera through a city bigger than Kirkwall, introducing her to new ways of life.

Showing her Madeleine’s favorite bookstore in New Orleans, or…

“Because I would,” Haera said tightly.

“If you asked, if that’s the only way. I would.”

On the last word, anguish split her voice.

Madeleine realized: even if Haera’s lifelong dream wasn’t to be a farmer, she still didn’t want to leave her home.

The sea that had birthed her, even if it was painful.

The farm she’d built with her best friend.

She would do it for Madeleine—she’d said she’d do anythin g for Madeleine—but it would hurt her.

And she’d been so hurt already.

Too much, too soon. For both of them.

“I don’t think that’s the answer,” Madeleine said around a lump in her throat.

“And I don’t think you want to do that, do you?”

“I would. For you.”

That was the problem.

If or when Haera finally left Jorsay, it should be for her own sake, to embrace a new life, not because she felt she had no other choice.

“I…I don’t think that’s the only way. I’m sure we can think of something.”

“Can we?” Haera turned back to Madeleine, pain still in her eyes.

“I want to believe so, because I’m greedy. I wondered if that would change now that I’m human, but it hasn’t. I want both the farm and you.”

I want that too .

Madeleine almost strangled on the words.

Anyone would call this crazy, but this summer had changed her.

It had been painful and confusing, yes, but before Jonathan’s death, it had also been the happiest time in her life.

She loved ?tlaquoy, the cliffs and beaches, even the terrifying standing stones.

There were mysteries on Jorsay she could spend her life trying to unravel, never succeeding.

The best mysteries were like that.

Haera was like that.

“I’m sorry,” Haera said.

Startled, Madeleine asked, “Sorry for what?”

Haera rolled back over and took one of Madeleine’s hands in a firm grip.

She looked at them, joined, and traced a fingertip over the back of Madeleine’s hand.

Following the veins.

A couple of weeks ago, Madeleine had pricked her finger, and Haera had tasted her blood.

Madeleine had wanted her to.

A sort of communion.

Now they needed other things to share.

“Many things,” Haera said.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry for what I was going to do to you. Although—although I don’t know if I ever could have. But I thought I could.”

Haera hadn’t properly apologized to her for any of that.

Everything had been so overwhelming that Madeleine honestly hadn’t realized.

Hearing the words now made her lungs expand again.

Haera’s look was haunted and intent.

“It hurt you, when you found out,” Haera said.

It hurt now, remembering it.

As much as she wanted to shield Haera tonight, now was the time for honesty.

Madeleine nodded wordlessly.

Haera held her gaze, as one determined not to turn back or be afraid.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I realize how that sounds. But of course I would have.”

“The Great Mare said you couldn’t have,” Madeleine replied.

“I agree with her.”

“It might be dangerous not to.” Now Haera was trying, and failing, to sound light.

“Either that, or you have too much faith in me.”

“Faith’s sort of my thing.” Even though she looked at it from a different perspective now, to say the least.

“You looked so frightened that night.” Haera tightened her grip on Madeleine’s hand.

“You didn’t look as if you thought I wouldn’t hurt you.”

The mud had been slick under Madeleine’s feet while rain soaked into her sweater.

She’d been holding a kitchen knife as if to ward off the truth’s horror.

Every inch of her skin had crawled in protest. “I wasn’t exactly thinking,” she said.

Just reacting. She shivered.

That had been the last time she’d seen Jonathan alive—and Haera as an Each-uisge .

The first was horrible.

The second…

“You did hurt me. Just not like you were planning to.” She remembered something else the Great Mare had said, something about love, and how Madeleine had replied.

She remembered food from the Sunrise Café.

“I forgive you,” she said.

“You’re sorry, and you tried to make amends. You offered yourself to your mother for my sake.”

Haera looked away.

Her dark hair hid her face.

“The least I could do. She came after you because of me.”

“She came after me because she wanted to,” Madeleine said firmly.

“And she was more interested in you, remember? The way Beathag behaves isn’t your fault.”

“She killed my father. ” Haera flopped back down onto the mattress with a groan, although she didn’t let go of Madeleine’s hand.

“If I actually loved anyone in my family, it was him. She did to him what I’d thought to do to you.”

“Yes and no.” How strange, to speak of her own planned gruesome fate this reasonably.

“You wanted to grow and change. To escape what life had in store for you. She wanted to destroy your father rather than lose him.”

Haera blinked at her.

“Granted, you still shouldn’t have planned to kill anyone,” Madeleine conceded.

“Correct.” Haera rubbed her thumb against the back of Madeleine’s hand.

“I’ve learned that much of human morality already, haven’t I? But you’re eager to excuse me for something awful.”

“I am not excusing you,” Madeleine said flatly.

“Forgiving you is different.”

“Ah. I see.” Haera pressed her lips together.

“You forgive me. That’s more than I deserve. Do you love me as well?”

The question landed between them with enough weight to crack a new fissure in the seabed.

Madeleine searched for words.

Well, one word. A simple one.

“I told you that you did,” Haera said.

“I should have asked you instead.”

Madeleine’s back and underarms began to sweat.

Her heartbeat kicked into high gear.

Even she couldn’t tell if it was hitched to anticipation or terror.

“I …”

“Because I love you,” Haera said.

She rolled over and rose up over Madeleine, propping herself on one elbow and looking straight into Madeleine’s eyes.

Her own eyes were as clear and fearless as they’d been when she was a creature of the ocean.

“I don’t know if it’s how I’m supposed to love somebody. I don’t even feel like a person sometimes. I feel like a collection of pieces that got scattered all over, in the sea and on the land, and somebody’s picked them up and thrown them all back in the same place, only they don’t match anymore and they don’t look like anything…”

“Haera…”

“But the pieces all love you. That’s what they have in common, and that’s me, I’m somebody who loves you with all that I am. For whatever that’s worth. Maybe it’s not worth anything.” Haera’s nostrils flared, her eyes were wild, and for a moment she looked inhuman indeed.

“But it’s yours. So am I.”

Madeleine could barely breathe.

Her eyes stung, they were wet, and she was gasping.

“Madeleine? Have I made you cry? I didn’t mean to—I?—”

“My Haera,” Madeleine choked.

“Oh my God.” She threw her arms around Haera’s neck and dragged her down, right on top of herself, which didn’t make it any easier to breathe.

She didn’t care. All that mattered was holding Haera as tightly as she could.

Haera clutched her too, rubbing her face into the curve of Madeleine’s throat.

“Yes. Yes, I’m your Haera. Do you understand that, do you believe me?”

Madeleine pressed her nose into Haera’s hair.

It smelled like the apple-scented shampoo she’d used in the shower this morning.

She preferred hot water now.

She said it felt good.

She’d changed.

All of Madeleine’s previous objections held true: they hadn’t known each other long enough.

The current circumstances weren’t conducive to level-headed decisions.

They both had enough baggage to fill an Airbus’s cargo hold.

None of that stacked up against Haera’s beauty in the night, the passion in her voice, her desperate courage, and all that had passed between them for six years.

“I love you too,” Madeleine whispered into her hair.

The words shook her to the core.

Before her, love’s yawning chasm opened wide, ready to swallow her whole and break her for good if things went wrong.

She would leap anyway.

She already had. “I really do.”

Haera gasped and rolled to her side, bringing Madeleine with her.

She turned her head, angled her mouth, and kissed Madeleine.

She kissed her with the same mouth she used to laugh, to eat, and to say I love you .

She could do a hundred other things with her lips and tongue, but she wanted to kiss Madeleine the most.

The kiss was a homecoming, one that spread warmth through Madeleine’s limbs as surely as the fireplace on a chilly night.

Haera didn’t kiss Madeleine like she wanted to eat her up, though.

Rather, she invited Madeleine in, and when she surged into Madeleine’s embrace, she made a soft, plaintive noise.

Not her usual possessive growl.

And when Madeleine pulled back for a look into her eyes, Haera’s face was slack and vulnerable with desire.

“I need it,” she said hoarsely.

“I need to feel good.”

Madeleine realized: Haera didn’t want one of their usual rough, passionate encounters.

Her eyes begged for tenderness and care.

And every cell in Madeleine’s body sang out that she was ready to give it.

She couldn’t swear to stay on Jorsay or make any other unkeepable promise, but she could give this to the woman she loved.

When she tugged at the top button of Haera’s pajamas, Haera whispered, “I thought you were exhausted.”

“I am.” Madeleine traced her fingertip down Haera’s warm throat and then back up and over the line of her jaw.

Haera was every bit as rangy and muscular as she’d always been, even if those muscles had less supernatural strength.

She seemed to consider this a downgrade.

Madeleine had to disagree.

“I’m in no shape for vigorous shenanigans. We’ll have to take it slow. Nice and gentle.”

Haera’s eyelashes fluttered, and for a second, longing was naked on her face.

“If—if you’d like that, I suppose we could give it a try.”

Madeleine suppressed a chuckle as she leaned in for another kiss.

“Wow, try not to give me an ego, okay?”

“I’ll give you something else.” Haera threaded her fingers into Madeleine’s hair.

Her body was taut with an eagerness Madeleine knew well by now.

Straining at the bit.

But there weren’t any hickeys or scratches tonight.

Nobody got picked up and flipped over or held down.

For the first time, Madeleine explored Haera at her leisure.

Haera’s flesh was a treasure to be cherished and protected.

Her mouth too. They kissed and came closer, undressing each other layer by layer until they were twined together, naked.

The rub of Haera’s breasts against her own, Haera’s body beneath her hands, Haera’s soaked heat around her fingers.

Somehow a bold, brilliant creature had landed in the middle of Madeleine’s life: Haera the shooting star.

Madeleine would catch her so carefully in the palm of her hand.

When they were done, Haera tucked her face into the sweaty curve of Madeleine’s throat.

“Today was awful. I needed that. Thank you.”

“I needed it too.” Did Haera understand that?

“What else do you need?” Haera stroked the slight roundness of Madeleine’s bare stomach.

There was more muscle there now.

“Do you know?”

It might be a loaded question, but Haera’s gentle touch, combined with the echoes of pleasure, had Madeleine melting into the mattress.

Her eyelids were heavier than ever.

“I’ll figure it out,” she said.

“Tomorrow. I promise.”

Madeleine had promised tomorrow.

She kept her promises.

Haera shouldn’t have pushed.

If she gave Madeleine more time, maybe Madeleine would say Yes, I’ll stay with you forever, because I love you.

Madeleine had told Haera she loved her.

Nobody had ever done that before.

It was like being thrown a shining rope in the darkness.

For a moment, Haera had seen things clearly, and they weren’t all horrible.

Madeleine loved her, and that was worth everything.

As fast as her mind was whirling, her body felt loose and contented for the first time in days.

Madeleine had taken the lead tonight, and she’d been gentle and generous.

She’d seen to Haera’s pleasure and treated her as if she were more precious than anything in a treasure chest.

Madeleine slept now.

Her eyelashes fluttered; her eyes moved beneath their fragile lids.

Maybe she was dreaming.

Dreadful thought. Haera’s dreams were all nightmares: Asgall reaching for her beneath the waves in his human shape, the skull visible beneath his skin.

Beathag returning to tear her apart, before turning away because she didn’t love her enough to take her life.

Jonathan dissolving into ash and drifting away on the tide while Haera begged him to return.

Haera gently pushed a stray lock of hair from Madeleine’s brow.

“I want to dream about you,” she whispered.

If wishes were horses, Jonathan used to say, beggars would ride.

There must be something she could keep.

Some trace of herself, the self she was both then and now.

Her life had a “before” and “after” period, divided between the night she broke and the weeks she’d spent afterward picking up the shards.

There had to be more to her than that.

She wouldn’t be a ruin.

Her mobile lay on the bedside table.

Haera considered it and then crept out of bed, reaching for her underwear.

Moments later, she sat in the overstuffed armchair, phone in hand, with her music app open.

Her fingertip hovered over the track she wanted to play: the humpback whale songs that used to get her in the mood, or make her feel as if she were back in the sea.

As an Each-uisge , she’d understood whale sounds perfectly.

It had assisted in hunting them when the herd had good numbers and enough strength to take on a whale.

Humans couldn’t hear that way; they measured whale sounds in terms of frequencies and found patterns to say that this was a mating song, that was a challenge, and so on.

The sounds weren’t science.

They were speech. As a human, Haera might no longer understand them.

The thought tore the inside of her lungs.

Maybe it’d be better not to know.

No. She had to know.

Madeleine would be brave enough to listen.

Haera must be too.

She pressed “play.” No sound at all came at first, only ambient water noise.

What was taking so long?

Could she no longer hear whale voices, period?

If so…if she had lost what had given her such comfort…

“I’m here,” a male humpback announced.

“I’ve been seeking you for so long.”

Haera covered her mouth to stop the cry that crowded into her throat.

“I’ve waited for you,” a female replied.

“Let me prove my worthiness.”

Tears pricked Haera’s eyes.

No reason to hold them back; nobody was here to see.

Thank the depths and the Great Mare, not everything was lost to her.

She still had the whales, and she still had their song.

She looked up at the ceiling and exhaled so hard it hurt, and she spent the next few minutes listening to the whales court one another.

Their songs were jubilant.

She hadn’t heard anyone expressing joy since Jonathan’s death.

But joy was still out there, somewhere.

Perhaps someday she’d know it again too.

She’d remember Jonathan, she’d remember how to listen to whales, and she’d hold on to everything she’d been.

She’d do all this while discovering who she would be.

“You okay?”

Haera turned.

Madeleine stood behind the sofa, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m all right.” It felt true for the first time in a while.

Madeleine didn’t seem convinced.

Her smile had a slant of worry to it.

“You’re crying. That doesn’t have to be a bad thing, but I wanted to check.”

Not a bad thing.

Madeleine was right.

Yes, Haera was crying, but these tears didn’t make her chest feel cold and heavy.

“Are you listening to whale sounds?” Madeleine asked.

“I remember when you tried to play them in bed.”

“And you didn’t appreciate it one bit.” Haera lowered the volume on her phone, but she could still hear the song.

“Can I ask why you’re listening to whale sounds?”

Haera took a deep, shuddering breath, one she exhaled into a smile.

“I wanted to know if I’d still be able to understand them. And I can.”

Madeleine’s eyes widened.

She rounded the sofa and perched on the chair’s arm.

The chair rocked forward; Haera braced her feet against the floor to keep Madeleine steady.

“Really?” Madeleine said.

“Yes. They’re mating.” Haera listened, grinned, and hit pause.

“This part’s actually a bit filthy. Let’s give them some privacy.”

Madeleine’s smile lit up the room until there was no more space for shadow.

“Is ‘congratulations’ the right thing to say? I wonder what else you’re still able to do.”

“Perhaps nothing. This is enough.” Haera placed her hand on Madeleine’s thigh.

“It’s the only music I knew when I was growing up. I’d have hated to lose it.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t.” Madeleine, still smiling, combed her fingers through Haera’s hair.

The pleasant, gentle tug brought more tears to Haera’s eyes, and she sniffled.

“When we were out with Jonathan’s ashes and you said you hated the sea, I worried. I know you were unhappy in your herd, but…well, hating the entire ocean didn’t seem good for you. I’m glad there’s something you want to keep.”

Haera tilted her head back for more caresses.

Madeleine’s fingers caught on tangles here and there, but the small tugs were fine, they made this more real.

“Is there anything you’re keeping too? From what you were before?”

Madeleine’s fingers stopped stroking.

She frowned. “That’s a good question.”

“That’s the only sort of question I ask.” Haera bumped her head against Madeleine’s hand pointedly.

Madeleine chuckled. “Did you like having your mane petted before? Maybe you kept that too.”

“Nobody ever petted my mane. I might have liked it. Well?”

“I don’t know,” Madeleine said slowly.

“I’ll have to think about that.”

“If I should keep something, you should too.” What was good for the mare was good for the stallion.

Or in this case, another mare.

“You might be right.” Madeleine began stroking Haera’s hair again.

“Am I petting you all night while you listen to dirty music, or can we go back to bed?”

If they went to bed, they’d go to sleep, and tomorrow would come.

Tomorrow, when Madeleine would make her decision about what to keep and what to throw away.

“Let’s stay up,” Haera whispered.

“Just a little bit longer.”