Page 172 of Salt Between the Wolves

She blinked.

"What?"

A faint smile appeared.

"The sailors disagree with the merchants."

"The merchants disagree with the navigators."

"The navigators disagree with the weather."

"The weather ignores everyone."

Despite herself, Eira laughed.

Leander looked pleased by that, perhaps even dangerously pleased.

"The point," he continued, "is that no one sees the whole picture alone."

His hand rested lightly against the edge of the map.

"So we keep collecting pieces."

Silence settled between them, thoughtful rather than uncomfortable.

Eira looked down again at the world spread across the table, at places she had never imagined, people she would never meet, and lives unfolding beyond mountains, beyond kingdoms, and beyond the narrow boundaries she had once accepted without question.

For years Frostvein had taught her that order came from certainty, from rules, and from knowing one's place.

Standing here, she suddenly wondered whether certainty and ignorance were sometimes the same thing.

As though sensing the direction of her thoughts, Leander spoke quietly.

"Rulers become dangerous when they believe their valley is the whole world."

Eira's eyes lifted.

The words settled heavily between them. They were not aimed at anyone in particular, and yet somehow seemed aimed at everyone.

Vargan. The White Law. Perhaps even Ironfang. Perhaps even herself.

For a long moment neither spoke.

The harbor bells rang faintly below while fog drifted beyond the windows, and somewhere beyond the sea, beyond the maps, and beyond everything she had ever known, the world continued waiting.

Chapter 21: The Harbour City

Eira

They left the estate shortly after midday.

The fog had begun to lift by then, though strands of silver mist still drifted between the piers and rooftops.

Leander guided her through the harbor district, pointing out warehouses, shipyards, and trading houses whose names meant little to her, at least for now.

Every few minutes someone stopped him—a captain with questions, a merchant with complaints, or a clerk carrying documents that required his attention.

Leander answered each with remarkable patience, or what passed for patience in his case.