Page 6

This time, Haera wouldn’t get stuck under the dock.

She waited several lengths away from it.

Only her eyes appeared above the surface as she watched for Sister Madeleine’s return.

She’d been here all day.

There was no way to tell how long Sister Madeleine would need to follow her instruction to come back, especially since she’d been injured.

It had taken a lot of care to stay out of sight of the fishing boats as they’d departed that morning and returned later in the day, as well as the beachcombers.

She’d only swum away long enough to hunt out two brown crabs for a snack, their shells popping between her incisors before she picked out the savory meat beneath.

Then she’d returned to the surface as soon as possible, but nobody was there.

Now, hours later, she was starting to worry she’d missed Sister Madeleine in those few precious moments.

It had been over a full day’s cycle since their encounter, and the moon had risen high while the tide rose likewise to meet it.

Haera was exhausted, and the longer she stayed here, the greater the risk that someone in the herd would notice her absence.

She must have faith.

What else had last night been about but that?

Now the life debt between herself and Sister Madeleine had been paid, and they could start fresh with Haera’s original intention.

She’d consume Sister Madeleine (and must remember to leave the liver), go to the Sire, and say what she’d done.

Nobody could fail to see how much Sister Madeleine would surely strengthen her, as the other Stormhorses were strengthened by their humans.

Haera must at least be allowed to prove her worth, even if the herd required more trials of her than they did of the males.

She’d get her wings before Asgall’s and Beathag’s disbelieving eyes.

And Sister Madeleine would be with her, inside her, the entire time.

Keeping her eyes on the seawall, dock, and shore, Haera remembered their mouths touching.

She remembered all of it.

Sister Madeleine had tried to embrace her.

It had been too much, and Haera had had to hold her down.

If Sister Madeleine had touched her, something would have happened.

Haera didn’t know what, but it would have made it much harder to change back out of that human form.

Now, in her true form, Haera could remember it with bemusement.

At the time, her human body had been consumed by Sister Madeleine, much as she now wanted the reverse.

Her blood had tasted divine, but Haera could never have dreamed that her mouth would taste even better.

And why had all that soggy cloth been bunched up between them?

She knew humans wore clothes, but surely it would have felt more natural for Sister Madeleine to have been equally bare beneath Haera’s own body.

But again, that might have brought complications.

Might have made Haera feel…

reluctant to change back.

This was a little worrisome.

Haera’s job was not to touch Sister Madeleine with her mouth—or at least not to stop there.

But how strangely disturbing it was to know that after Haera ate her, Sister Madeleine would be no more: she’d walk along no more beaches, never again speak with that husky voice.

And never again would her perfect scent carry along the wind.

They’d never get a chance to talk .

Haera shook her head irritably, snorting up bubbles.

What useless thoughts.

She didn’t need a conversation with Sister Madeleine.

She already had something of her: the string of wooden beads that ended with the cross-shaped thing.

Even Haera recognized that cross.

It had been part of human culture around here for so long that the herd had all sorts of theories about what it meant.

The beads now lay in the ancient chest she kept secreted away at the base of one of the cliffs.

She and Asgall had found the chest when he was a colt and she still a foal.

He’d made so much fun of the object that she’d realized he wanted it.

Even at that age she’dknown to be wary when Asgall wanted things.

He usually found a way to hurt her with them.

That night, she’d slipped away and returned to the chest, pulling it by one of its handles.

Her mouth had been sore afterward, tasting of the handle’s metal.

She’d hidden the chest by the cliff.

The next day, Asgall had been in a terrible mood.

He never admitted why, but she knew he’d returned to the chest he’d supposedly disdained, only to find it missing.

He couldn’t accuse Haera of stealing it, for that would have meant he’d gone back to it.

He’d lashed out at her, biting her neck and drawing blood before their mother Beathag separated them, sending Haera away in the care of another mare while she fussed over her son.

The chest was full of things humans seemed to find valuable but which meant nothing to Haera.

There were loads of gold coins, so old their markings had faded, plus other items in gold and silver: cups and bowls, ornaments that humans put on their bodies, a jeweled dagger with a rusted blade.

All items that had been around long enough that Each-uisge knew what they were and what functions they served.

Her father had told her that cups and bowls were vessels humans used to feed themselves, since they didn’t eat live prey.

That had been interesting, if revolting.

Now the chest held a real treasure.

Haera had placed Sister Madeleine’s string of beads on top of all the junk.

There, the beads would serve as a permanent reminder of what it had been like for Haera to lie atop her smaller body, something to keep after this business was done.

That is, assuming the business would ever be done.

Where was her woman?

Maybe Sister Madeleine would have returned sooner if Haera had told her that she’d bring a gift, something to replace what she’d stolen.

Beneath her tongue sat one of the gold coins from the chest. Humans liked these so much; surely Sister Madeleine would come within reach to get one.

After the half moon passed its midpoint, her patience was finally rewarded.

Haera barely managed not to stick her whole head above the water as a human form appeared on the seawall in silhouette, lurching toward the little dock and dinghy.

Then the human got close enough for her to see properly, and Haera’s heart fell.

Curse it to the depths and back!

That was a man, not Sister Madeleine.

He was no good to her.

Or was he?

It was the man from last night.

The one who’d noticed them on the beach and helped Sister Madeleine away afterward.

He’d taken her from Haera’s side, but perhaps he had helped care for the wound on her head.

Haera’s tail swished beneath the water in sudden agitation.

The wound hadn’t seemed deep, and Sister Madeleine had regained consciousness, but what did Haera know about human health?

Sister Madeleine might have been hurt worse than it seemed.

Maybe that was why she hadn’t come back.

Great Mare, Haera prayed as she swam closer to the dock, let her be well.

Let the blood stop flowing .

When the Last Current takes her, it shouldn’t be like this .

The man didn’t walk out on the dock.

Instead, he went to the rocky stretch of shore where Haera had dragged Sister Madeleine.

He didn’t seem steady on his feet.

Perplexed, Haera watched as he stood at the edge of the water, looking over the sea.

Then he called out, his voice reaching her through the rumble of the waves.

“Show yourself, you bastard beast!” he yelled.

Haera was so startled she nearly did show herself, sticking her head halfway out of the water before she pulled back down.

“She told me you were here. A bloody horse, she said! I knew you’d be back. Well, you fucked it last time, and you will this time too. You won’t get her. You didn’t get me.”

Impossible.

It couldn’t be.

Haera’s head whirled.

The man was older, as humans went.

Forty turns ago, Asgall had failed with his chosen human.

This man would have been a young adult then.

Could he be Asgall’s human?

The idea beggared belief.

But she couldn’t imagine who else this could be.

The man seemed to know who—or at least what—Haera was.

The man had referred to a past failure.

In hundreds of turns, Asgall was the only one who’d failed the Stormhorse trial.

The timing matched up.

By the depths, it must be true.

This pitiful, shambling creature was Asgall’s human!

That had to be why her brother had failed.

Their chosen human prey was supposed to be noble, strong, and brave.

Talk about an unworthy choice.

Asgall must have been truly desperate.

It wasn’t the time to feel a pang of sympathy.

Her brother didn’t deserve it.

“That nun thought you were an angel,” the man rambled.

“Seemed likelier to her than what you are. And now I find you can change into a woman as well as a man? It bloody figures.”

That settled it.

This was definitely Asgall’s human.

“Show yourself!” The man was screaming now.

Good thing nobody was out this late and that human hearing was so poor.

“I’m not afraid of you!”

He was alone.

He was weak. And he knew—he must know—where Sister Madeleine was.

Yes, it was an enormous risk.

But Haera was being handed another opportunity, as precious to her as gold was to humans.

If she appeared to the man alone, his fellows would never believe him, and she could show him that she wasn’t Asgall.

That she meant no harm.

That it would be perfectly safe for Sister Madeleine to come back, since she was clearly alive and talking.

Haera’s marine tail pushed her forward.

Compared to the sea, the world had so little land, but the tiny stretch of rocky shore suddenly seemed as formidable as the greatest underwater crevasses.

She approached, splitting her tail when she was close enough to emerge on four legs.

Gleaming strands of kelp hung handsomely from her mane.

She’d polished the shells on her front hooves by rubbing them against some rocks.

Altogether, it was an elegant effect.

Haera had come in her best to meet Sister Madeleine.

This sea louse of a human probably wouldn’t appreciate it, but what could you do?

He was looking the wrong way.

If Haera were here to eat him, he’d be done for already.

She stamped and snorted in contempt.

The man whirled on his feet, stumbled, and promptly fell on his behind.

Then he sat on the ground, staring at Haera with his mouth open.

This close, she could see his grizzled beard in patches of brown and white.

His face was weather-worn.

His clothes were too baggy to show his shape, but he seemed neither malnourished nor covered with a large layer of insulating fat.

More than that she couldn’t tell.

A wet patch was also rapidly spreading over the cloth between his legs as he stared at her.

He’d urinated on himself.

Pathetic.

“You’re different,” he choked.

An understatement. Haera and Asgall looked nothing alike, thank the Great Mare.

She considered what he’d said before—what he’d called Sister Madeleine—and voiced the first question that came to her mind, although it sounded a little muddled with the coin under her tongue.

“What is a nun?” she asked, staying several lengths from him.

The human stared at her some more before gasping, “You’re not him. Oh fuck. There are more of you?”

So Asgall hadn’t betrayed the existence of the herd.

“‘Him,’” Haera said. “I assume you mean my brother. Asgall is his name.”

“God. Right enough. Asgall is his name.” The man seemed as shocked as if he’d just swum through an entire sea full of electric eels.

“Your brother. He’s got a sister. Christ.”

“My name is not Christ. I’m Haera. What are you called?”

“Jonathan,” the man whispered.

“Jonathan Rendall.”

“Well met, Jonathan Rendall.”

“Erm…just Jonathan, I…” Jonathan suddenly appeared to realize he was still sitting down.

He looked between his legs at the wet patch and groaned, “You knob.”

Luckily, he seemed to be talking to himself.

Haera would not be insulted or called names.

“I mean you no harm. If I did, you’d already be finished.”

“I reckon I would be, yeah.” Jonathan lumbered to his feet with another groan.

He bent and placed his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

“Christ, last night did my back in.”

“I told you, my name isn’t Christ,” Haera said irritably.

“No, Christ is—ah, never mind. That woman could tell you, and probably would for a long time.”

Haera’s land tail flicked, sending drops of water flying through the air.

Finally, something about Sister Madeleine.

“Why would she do that? Is it important?”

“It is to her.”

Then it was important to Haera too, at least until this business was done.

“I’ll have to ask her about it when next we meet. I saved her life, you know.”

Jonathan ground his jaw—a human gesture of agitation, she believed.

“That’s what she told me.”

“So you see? I’m not like my brother at all.” A dreadful thought suddenly occurred to Haera.

“Did you tell Sister Madeleine about him? About what he did to you?”

The last thing she needed was this dirty human pissing in the riptide, driving Sister Madeleine away because of Asgall’s incompetence.

How fitting it would be if her brother ruined Haera’s dream without even knowing it.

“Did I tell a nun I was nearly drowned by an ocean horse that had a fish tail and talked? I haven’t told anyone. Bad enough to be the town drunk without folk saying I’m off my trolley too.”

“I’m glad. I don’t want her to think of me as a monster like Asgall.”

“A monster, aye. He told me a lot of things about himself, but fuck knows it was probably all lies.”

“Probably,” Haera agreed.

“Now, Sister Mad ? —”

“He said he…well, I reckon both of you have some special tie to humans. You can take our shape but no other.”

Asgall had betrayed so much?

That was far worse than Haera standing on the shore having a little chat.

The Sire would tear him to pieces if he knew.

“He told you many things.”

“How much of it was bollocks?” Jonathan’s voice was rough, pleading.

His face seemed to soften, to grow open.

“Not a day goes by I don’t think about how mental the whole thing was. Even after all this time. Now here you are, chasing after that woman.”

She must be careful now.

Haera said calmly, “I chase no one. Did I drown her, or did I save her? That creates a bond between us, and I have no wish to break it. That’s why I want to see her again.”

All true, as far as it went.

She’d learned from Beathag and Asgall that the most convincing lies came from the same sea as the truth.

“Hard luck, then. She’s gone.”

Haera blinked, sure she’d misheard.

“Yeah. Gone,” he repeated.

She must bite back the scream of frustration.

She must not lose control.

Information was absolutely necessary.

“Gone where? And when will she return?”

“Off the islands. Her group wasn’t in a hurry to hang about after she cracked her head and nearly drowned. I don’t think they fell in love with Orkney anyway.” Jonathan tilted his head to the side, looking far too canny for a man who’d urinated on himself a few minutes ago.

Haera could smell it from here, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“They’re from the other side of the pond—the Atlantic bloody Ocean. I doubt they’re coming back at all.”

No.

That couldn’t be true.

“Not sure even you could swim that far,” Jonathan added, a gloating note in his voice, as if he didn’t stand before a creature who could rend him into pieces.

“Or that fast.”

“Are you mocking me?”

The words came out too coldly, as if they’d risen from the darkest depths inside her.

Be calm . Haera must keep her head, and she couldn’t castigate herself for not eating Sister Madeleine when she’d had the chance.

That wouldn’t have been a fair contest, it would never have earned Haera her wings, and it wouldn’t have been right to repay a life debt by devouring her rescuer.

Haera had done the right thing.

She had to remember that.

The Great Mare had willed all of this to happen—that seemed plain enough.

If that were true, then Haera and Sister Madeleine weren’t finished.

She’d told Sister Madeleine to return to her, and she must have faith it would happen.

“Mocking you ? Do I want to die?” Jonathan looked down at the wet patch on his trousers.

“If I did, you think the sight of you would make me piss myself? Mind you, that could be the drink…”

“I don’t care what it was. ” Oh, depths, she had to modulate her tone.

Jonathan’s role had just officially changed.

He was Haera’s only link to Sister Madeleine, wherever she had gone, and she couldn’t afford to drive him away.

If she managed this properly, he’d become her ally and never suspect a thing.

Perhaps some sort of gesture was appropriate.

“I mean the human race no harm,” she said gently.

“I abhor what Asgall did. Let me prove it.”

This would be a gamble.

But to gain the sky, she had to brave the winds.

Haera opened her mouth and bent her head.

The gold coin beneath her tongue hit the pebbles with a clink.

“What’s that?” Jonathan asked.

“A gift I’d meant to offer her. Now I offer it to you—with my own hands.”

“You haven’t got hands.”

“Not like this. Observe.”

She closed her eyes, concentrated, and it happened again.

Her body shrank. Its muscles compacted, its bones realigned.

So did her eyes, and her lateral vision disappeared so she could only look straight ahead.

Her hind legs slimmed, her front legs shortened, and her hooves changed to strange, soft things with wiggling fingers and toes.

Her hide grew softer too, losing its coat of short, coarse hair.

The black hair on her head made up for that, falling down in a wet slap to the small of her back and still attractively accented with kelp.

She hadn’t had a real chance to examine her human body last night.

Everything had happened too quickly.

Now, Haera looked down at herself.

Her shoulders seemed broad, her arms long, and her waist narrow.

Her legs were long too, for a human.

More dark hair lay between her thighs, covering her human genitals.

She had breasts as well, although they didn’t look very big.

Perhaps that was because of her musculature, which seemed well developed.

Pleased, she sensed instinctively that this body was well suited to swimming.

That was fitting.

She raised her head to see that Jonathan was staring at her with his mouth open again.

“Bloody fuck,” he said.

“My head’s mince.”

There seemed no answer to that other than, “It’s all right.”

Her human voice was so strange!

Softer, quieter, and without an echo.

It lacked the crash of the water on the rocks.

It was thus less impressive, but at the sound of it, Jonathan visibly relaxed.

She could see that easily.

Her vision seemed to have lost none of its sharpness, even if it only pointed forward.

Her hearing remained excellent too, as did her sense of smell—which might be unfortunate, given what the human had done to himself.

Haera bent down—odd to do it from the waist, not the shoulders—and reached for the dropped coin.

Her fingers seemed to know what to do: they closed around the coin and cupped it securely in her palm.

Then she walked slowly to Jonathan.

The distance between them presented much more of a challenge than the short dash she’d made from Sister Madeleine back to the sea.

Her arms wanted to move when her legs did, and she had to fight to keep them at her sides as she’d seen humans do.

Her weight distribution was all wrong, and she still felt heavy out of the water.

Her legs might’ve been strong in human terms, but they were nothing to her true form.

The pebbles and rocks didn’t help, creating an uneven surface beneath her soft feet.

Given all this, it was no surprise she stumbled and fell.

Her gasp became a cry when she hit the rocks.

This skin was so much more fragile—had it torn?

It must be abraded at least. No wonder humans wore protective coverings.

It was a miracle the species had survived at all.

“Oh—er—hold on a bit?—”

Jonathan hurried toward her, looking none too steady on his own feet.

As he moved, he took off one of his coverings, pulling it down over his arms. That seemed like an impressive maneuver, compared to what Haera was able to manage.

She hadn’t even been able to keep hold of the coin.

“Take my jacket,” he said, holding it out to her.

Haera looked at it dubiously.

The garment would provide no protection or comfort for her lower half, which seemed to be the chancy part.

And no other humans were here to see her, so she didn’t have to blend in.

“I don’t feel the cold. I don’t need that.”

“Yes, you do. The cold’s not why.” He looked away with a grimace.

He wanted her to follow human custom, even knowing she wasn’t human?

Well, needs must. Haera sighed, picked the coin back up, and rose gingerly to her feet.

It took her a moment to figure the “jacket” out.

When she had it on, the weight felt unnatural and the fabric rubbed unpleasantly against her skin.

Nevertheless, it covered most of her front, although she wasn’t going to bother with the silly fastener that looked like a line of metal teeth.

“All right.”

Jonathan looked back at her.

Up at her. Then he stepped back and gave a soft whistle.

“Jesus. You’re six feet if you’re an inch. Or more.”

“I only have two feet.”

“No, that’s—it’s a unit of measurement. Dunno if you have those. I’m just saying you’re tall, especially for a woman.”

Haera liked the sound of that, but she didn’t have a human’s standards.

Maybe her height wouldn’t appeal to Sister Madeleine.

“Is that good?”

“Dunno,” he repeated.

“Depends who you ask. It just is what it is.”

How helpful.

“Are you more comfortable with me now that I’ve taken on this form?”

He laughed roughly.

“Comfortable’s not how I’d put it. He could look human too.”

Asgall, too, had attempted the trick their father disdained.

So much for being nobler than Haera was.

“A kelpie, I thought he was,” Jonathan said.

“Naturally.”

Haera recoiled.

Kelpies were also unseen water creatures who looked like horses and could take human shape, but as far as she was concerned, there the similarities ended.

Denizens of freshwater rivers and lochs, they were smaller, weaker, less intelligent, and less circumspect in preying on people—which was probably why humans knew more about them than they did about Each-uisge .

They dwelled alone, not in herds, and so had little protection.

There were almost none left.

“Asgall’s no prize, but he’s no kelpie either,” she snapped.

“No more am I.”

“So he said. Looked as disgusted as you, and I knew that was true, even if nothing else turned out to be.”

Silence.

She was at something of a loss after that.

“I thought it was over,” Jonathan whispered.

He was looking at Haera, but at the same time, he still seemed to be looking at something else.

His face had lost color.

“And now it’s not.”

“It is,” Haera said firmly.

“Asgall will never come for you again.”

Jonathan blinked.

Then he looked down at his shoes, so Haera did too.

They were worn and scratched.

Sand crusted their edges.

After a moment, Jonathan said, “Oh.” The word sounded thick, as if an anemone had just unfurled in his throat.

“You can believe me,” Haera reassured him.

“I know my brother. He won’t revisit a failure.”

“Failure. Aye, I suppose it was.” Jonathan rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

When he looked back up at Haera, his face had some color back, and he was looking at her, not at some phantom of the past. Something else had changed, too.

“Your eyes are wet,” Haera said in alarm.

“What?” Jonathan dashed the back of his hand across his face, rubbing at his eyes.

He sniffed. That sounded wet too.

“Sorry. I’m a silly sod, is all.”

She hadn’t known human eyes could leak.

Jonathan wasn’t treating it as a serious condition, though.

He only seemed embarrassed.

“Silly, useless,” Jonathan muttered.

“Failure. And here I am, forty years later with piss on my trousers and naught else. Wasted time. Wasted life.”

He certainly seemed determined to waste Haera’s time.

She fought not to stamp her foot, not least because it would hurt.

Her side still ached from her stumble.

“Then let it be different this time. Help me.”

The words seemed to jolt Jonathan back into the moment.

He blinked, droplets still on his eyelashes.

“How’s that?”

“I don’t want from Sister Madeleine what Asgall wanted from you.” Also the truth.

Asgall saw everything and everyone as a means to an end.

He wouldn’t have thought twice about honoring this man.

“Aren’t my actions proof enough of that?”

“I reckon they must be.” Jonathan took in a deep breath.

It sounded unsteady.

“And you don’t sound like him. He always…laughed. Came off as if nothing mattered much.”

Sister Madeleine’s green eyes.

Sister Madeleine’s soft mouth.

Sister Madeleine’s response to Haera’s call.

“This matters to me. It matters very much.”

“Yes. I can tell. That’s…different.”

“Help me correct his mistake,” Haera whispered.

The full force of her longing was in her voice, but that didn’t have to be a bad thing, if it convinced Jonathan she was telling the truth.

“Help me do what he couldn’t.”

“I still can’t believe it happened. I can’t believe he’s real. The things he told me—” For the first time, sorrow and fear left Jonathan’s eyes, and curiosity took their place; she could imagine the young man he must have been forty turns…

“years”…ago. Maybe he’d been worthy prey for Asgall after all.

“I asked him how he could talk to me. I mean—in all the stories, I know magical creatures can talk to human folk, but I asked anyway. He said he’s tied to the people of this place, these islands, and sure as I could understand him, he could understand me. Same for you?”

“Same for me, yes. But speaking isn’t the same thing as understanding.”

“No shite.” Jonathan laughed a little.

Something about it reminded Haera of the rust on the chest’s ancient dagger, eating away at what had once been sharp enough to cut.

“Can you read, too?”

Haera thought again of the ruined books she’d seen in shipwrecks.

“No. Can you?”

He looked insulted.

“I might not be much, but yeah, I can read .”

If Jonathan could read, then no doubt Sister Madeleine could too.

He made it sound like a basic skill humans were expected to have.

And it was one of their primary means of communication.

She heard herself say, “I want to learn.”

Jonathan’s look changed to one of astonishment.

“You do? Why?”

Why, indeed?

The words had come to her impulsively.

Why should Haera want to acquire a silly human skill she’d never need after her goal was accomplished?

Because it wasn’t accomplished.

Because it would be something to share with Sister Madeleine, to…

talk about.

“Because Sister Madeleine will come back,” she said.

“If she knows how, I want to know too. Besides, it’s not that hard, is it?”

“I’ve got no clue how hard it’d be for you. Maybe you’re a bloody genius of an ocean horse.” Jonathan glanced toward the sea.

Haera was forced to turn her head to follow his gaze, which was aimed at the little dock that had started this whole farce.

“She said she cut you free from there.”

Haera’s face suddenly felt warmer than the rest of her.

Her head and shoulders seemed heavier, as if they wanted to slump down and make her appear smaller.

Perhaps she shouldn’t mock this man after all—he’d probably never done anything as embarrassing as getting caught in a dock.

She lifted her chin and stood up straighter.

“Yes, she did. So you see, there’s a bond between us. I mean her no harm.”

It would be a great honor for Sister Madeleine to be devoured, to become part of a Stormhorse that would unleash the lightning and the wind.

The first female Stormhorse, no less.

Sister Madeleine would become legendary, spoken of with reverence.

She’d become part of the herd’s lore for thousands of turns.

Haera would ensure it.

That wasn’t harming anybody.

The opposite, in fact.

“Why are you so certain she’ll come back?” Jonathan asked.

“She lives far off. She was just here on a tour. She’s got no friends or family here.”

Haera looked him dead in the eye so he would feel the force of her sincerity.

He had to. If she said it with enough faith, it’d come true.

“She has me,” she said.

After a moment, Jonathan said softly, “Ah.”

“Yes. And she will return to me. What lies between us is unfinished. Now…” Haera held out her human hand and opened her palm to reveal the gold coin.

“This is for you.”

Jonathan took the coin and squinted at it with a frown.

Then he lifted his chin with a sharp gasp.

That seemed promising.

“I believe this is precious to your kind. Would you have a use for it?”

“Yeah, it is.” Jonathan’s eyes were extremely wide.

“And yeah, I would.”

“I have many more. They come from a shipwreck. I can bring them to you, if…”

Jonathan turned his wide-eyed gaze from the coin to Haera.

“If what?”

If you teach me to read.

If you give me more clothes.

If you show me your ways.

If you make me ready for her.

She pulled herself up to her full height and, for the first time, stretched her human mouth into a smile.

“I’m glad to have met you, Jonathan,” she said.

“Let’s make a bargain. But first, you never answered my question: what is a nun?”