Page 113 of Salt Between the Wolves

By the time he reached the lower courtyard, darkness had settled fully over Ironfang, and the torches along the walls burned brighter against the growing night.

Most of the fortress had retreated indoors, leaving only a handful of guards outside.

Soren crossed the yard without any real destination and realized, for the first time in years, that there was nowhere he actually wanted to go.

The council chamber felt unbearable, his office felt pointless, and even his own rooms felt wrong.

A familiar voice interrupted the thought.

"You look terrible."

Soren glanced up.

Kael stood near the covered passage leading toward the barracks, his arms folded against the cold.

Under different circumstances, the remark might have earned a response, but tonight neither of them seemed interested in maintaining old habits.

They stood in silence for several moments while snow drifted between them, until Kael finally spoke.

"The search parties will leave again at dawn."

Soren nodded.

"I know."

Another silence followed, and neither man seemed eager to fill it.

At length, Kael looked toward the dark training yard.

"You know what everyone keeps asking me?"

Soren already disliked the question.

"No."

"They want to know where she went."

The answer wasn't surprising.

"What do you tell them?"

Kael kept his gaze fixed on the yard.

"The truth."

Soren waited.

"I don't know."

The words disappeared into the cold air, and for some reason they hurt more than they should have, perhaps because Kael usually knew something—if not the answer itself, then at least the direction they should take or the next move they should make.

Not this time.

Eventually Soren exhaled.

"Neither do I."

Kael nodded once, as though he had expected that answer.