Page 245 of Salt Between the Wolves

A faint smile appeared as Leander replied, "I've always been interested in things that make sensible people uncomfortable," and for the first time in several minutes, the corner of Soren's mouth twitched.

Then Leander's expression became serious again as he said, "The point isn't the mark, the point is that neither of you knows what it is becoming," while the wind pressed against them, and after a brief pause he added, "and that should concern you far more than it currently does."

Silence followed, not agreement but not dismissal either, and despite himself, Soren found himself considering a possibility he had spent months refusing to entertain: not that the mark was dangerous or even that it was changing, but that it might mean something, and that someone, somewhere, had once known what.

The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable or easy, but simply full, the sort of silence that existed only between people who had known each other long enough to stop fearing it.

Far below, another wave shattered itself against the rocks as Soren looked toward the sea.

"If answers exist, then someone should find them."

Leander's laugh was quiet as he said, "There he is."

Soren frowned and asked, "What?"

"The man who believes every problem comes with a task."

The irritation returned immediately as Soren replied, "Most do."

"Do they?" Leander tilted his head slightly before continuing, "For years I've watched you respond to every difficulty in exactly the same way."

The wind tugged at his cloak as he went on, "A threat appears and you confront it, a problem emerges and you solve it, a burden falls and you carry it."

Soren folded his arms and asked, "And?"

Leander's gaze held his as he answered, "And perhaps that worked because those things actually belonged to you."

The words settled heavily between them, and for a moment neither man spoke before Soren asked quietly, "And the mark doesn't?"

"No," Leander replied without hesitation as he looked toward the horizon. "I don't think it belongs to you."

Soren frowned again and asked, "Then who does it belong to?"

A faint smile touched Leander's face as he said, "That's the first intelligent question you've asked all morning."

Soren glared at him, but Leander ignored it and continued, "The Old Law existed before you, before Eira, and before Ironfang."

The sea rolled endlessly below them as he added, "Yet somehow both of you have spent months treating the mark as though it revolves around your lives, but what if it doesn't?"

For a moment Soren had no answer, and the possibility felt strangely unsettling as Leander continued more quietly, "You keep asking what the mark wants from you."

His gaze remained fixed on the distant water as he added, "Perhaps you've been asking the wrong question."

Soren watched him and asked, "What question should I be asking?"

For the first time since the conversation began, Leander hesitated, not because he knew the answer, but because he didn't, and finally he said, "What was it created to do?"

Silence filled the space again, accompanied only by the sea, the wind, and the distant cry of a gull, and yet something about the question refused to leave because it was different from every question Soren had asked himself since the bond began.

It was not how to control it, how to survive it, or how to get rid of it, but rather why it existed at all, and the thought settled somewhere deep and uncomfortable.

Leander studied him for a moment, and then, unexpectedly, his expression softened as he said, "You're looking for Eira."

Soren's eyes lifted as he replied, "Of course I am."

"No," Leander said, shaking his head, "you're looking for the version of events that allows you to fix everything."

The words landed harder than they should have as he added, "Those aren't the same thing."