Page 173 of Salt Between the Wolves

Eventually another trader intercepted him near the docks and launched into a discussion involving tariffs, cargo manifests, and several words Eira had never heard before.

Leander sighed, the man continued speaking, and Eira quietly stepped away.

Neither seemed to notice, though it felt more likely that Leander had noticed and simply chosen not to stop her.

She followed a narrow path descending between weathered rocks as the sounds of the harbor slowly faded behind her.

The cries of gulls remained overhead while the wind strengthened, carrying with it the scent of salt, something unlike anything she had known before. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, merely unfamiliar.

When the path ended abruptly, Eira stopped.

For several moments she forgot to breathe.

The sea stretched endlessly before her, grey and silver beneath the mist, seeming almost infinite.

Mist drifted above the water, blurring the line between ocean and sky until one appeared to dissolve into the other.

There were no mountains, no walls, and no boundaries—nothing to stop the world from continuing forever.

The sight unsettled her even as it fascinated her.

The waves rolled steadily toward shore, each one collapsing against the sand with a soft rushing sound before retreating back into the mist, only to be followed by another.

Eira stepped forward, then again, until her boots touched the wet sand.

The ground shifted beneath her weight as she looked down and watched the sea reach for her almost immediately.

Cold water swept across the shore and washed over the tips of her boots.

She laughed softly, surprised by the sound.

The next wave reached a little farther, and the water felt colder than she had expected, sharp and strangely alive.

Eira crouched near the edge of the shore and reached toward it, letting the sea slip between her fingers.

For a moment she simply watched it—the endless motion, the endless sound, and the endless horizon.

It was easy to understand why sailors became obsessed with it.

A flash of white caught her attention.

Half-buried in the wet sand lay a small shell, which she picked up and examined.

Its surface was smooth and pale, marked by delicate spirals carved by time and water, and something about it felt both impossibly fragile and impossibly old.

Eira turned it in her hands before slipping it into her pocket as a keepsake, proof that she had stood at the edge of a world she had once believed impossible.

The wind pulled loose strands of hair from her braid while gulls wheeled through the mist overhead.

Behind her, the city continued its endless motion, but for a little while longer Eira remained where she was, watching the sea and listening as though it were trying to tell her something.

"You disappeared."

Eira continued watching the sea before replying, "You were busy."

"The merchant was attempting robbery."

"You seemed familiar with the process."