Page 244 of Salt Between the Wolves

Soren's eyes lifted as the question felt harmless, though it was anything but, and for several moments he considered refusing to answer before finally admitting, "It burns."

"When?"

Soren hesitated, and that hesitation told Leander more than the answer itself.

"Whenever I think about her?"

"No," Soren said as his gaze drifted toward the sea. "Not always."

The wind moved through the silence while Leander remained very still before saying, "And that concerns me."

Soren frowned and asked, "Why?"

Leander looked toward the distant horizon, seeming to weigh his words carefully for a long moment before answering, "Because I think both of you have spent months assuming the mark is something happening to you."

His gaze returned to Soren as he added, "What if it's trying to do something instead?"

Soren let out a quiet breath before asking, "What exactly are you suggesting?"

"Nothing," Leander replied immediately, and that alone was irritating enough to make Soren frown.

"You brought me here to discuss a mark neither of us understands, a healer who has no answers, and records that tell us nothing," he said, his tone sharpening.

Leander inclined his head slightly and answered with calm seriousness, "When you put it that way, it does sound less impressive."

Soren stared at him, and although the absurdity of the situation nearly broke through the tension for a moment, it never quite did, especially as the wind shifted again and the sea darkened beneath passing clouds.

Finally, Soren shook his head and said, "I don't have time for mysteries."

"No," Leander replied, his gaze settling on him with quiet certainty, "that's precisely the problem."

Soren's jaw tightened as he continued, "There are people waiting for me in Ironfang, there are decisions that need to be made, and there are threats I can actually do something about," and the words came harder now, more honest than before, "there are things I can fix."

Silence followed as Leander studied him for several moments before asking quietly, "And how has that been working for you?"

The question struck harder than it should have, not because it was cruel, but because it wasn't, and Soren found himself looking away as the sea crashed below.

Leander followed his gaze toward the horizon before saying, "I don't think the mark is the danger," which immediately drew Soren's attention.

"No?" Soren asked, frowning.

"No," Leander repeated as the wind caught the edge of his cloak, "I think ignorance is."

For a long moment neither man spoke, and then Leander continued, "The healer found references to similar bonds."

Soren's expression sharpened as he asked, "Similar?"

"Not identical," Leander clarified carefully, adding, "and as far as she can tell, no one bothered recording what happened afterward."

Soren frowned again and asked, "Why?"

Leander laughed softly before answering, "Because people are remarkably consistent," while the sea rolled endlessly below them.

"If something survives one generation, they call it tradition, if it survives three, they call it law, and if it survives ten, they stop asking why it exists at all," he continued, and something in that settled heavily between them, not because it sounded impossible, but because it sounded true.

Leander's gaze drifted toward the distant sea as he went on, "The Old Law is older than either of our clans, older than Silverwake, and older than Ironfang," and his expression grew thoughtful as he added, "and yet no one seems particularly interested in understanding it."

Soren folded his arms and said, "You're interested."