Page 178 of Salt Between the Wolves

By the time Eira returned to the estate, night had settled over Silverwake, and lights shimmered across the harbor below her windows in their hundreds, perhaps even thousands.

Some belonged to ships anchored in the bay, while others marked taverns, warehouses, homes, and distant streets she had not yet explored.

The city seemed unwilling to sleep, and even from here she could hear it through the faint voices carried by the wind, the distant ringing of harbor bells, the low groan of ships shifting against their moorings, and beneath it all, constant and patient, the sea.

She crossed the room slowly and removed her cloak, and the shell slipped from her pocket to land softly upon the desk.

For a moment Eira simply stared at it.

It was a small thing, ordinary and perhaps even worthless, yet she found herself reaching for it immediately.

The smooth surface felt cool against her palm.

This morning she had never seen the sea, and the thought still felt absurd.

Today she had stood at what once would have seemed the edge of the world, though now she knew better.

The world did not end at the mountains, nor at Frostvein, Ironfang, or even here.

Somewhere beyond the fog and beyond the horizon, ships were already sailing toward places she could not name, and although the realization should have made her feel small, it felt strangely freeing instead.

A quiet knock sounded at the door, and a servant entered carrying a fresh lamp before departing moments later, leaving the room bathed in warm golden light.

Silence returned as Eira looked toward the writing desk.

The paper still waited there, fresh and unused, while the ink bottle sat beside it exactly where she had left it.

For several moments she stood motionless before crossing the room and sitting down.

The chair creaked softly beneath her, and somewhere beyond the window a gull cried out, its voice seeming impossibly distant.

Eira turned the shell between her fingers before setting it carefully beside the paper.

Her gaze lingered on the blank page, which seemed to wait the way maps waited before they were drawn and stories waited before they were told.

Slowly, she picked up the pen.

The first line came easier than expected.

Today I saw the sea for the first time.

She paused, and a smile touched her lips before she continued.

I had always imagined it as water.

The scratching of ink filled the room.

No one told me it was a sound.

For a long moment she looked at the words, which seemed simple and unimportant, yet somehow she could not bring herself to cross them out.

Outside, the city continued breathing beneath the night, while inside Eira dipped her pen into the ink once more and wrote another line.

Chapter 22: The First Fracture

Eira

The following morning, Eira expected another tour of the city, but instead Leander arrived carrying a stack of documents tucked beneath one arm, which by itself felt vaguely threatening.