Page 291 of Salt Between the Wolves
"What about it?"
"The next incident happens here."
Kael straightened slightly.
Soren frowned.
"Why?"
"Because both sides think it belongs to them."
The answer came immediately, too immediately, as she had already been thinking about it.
Soren looked back at the map, then at her.
"You're certain."
"No," Eira said, her gaze remaining on the markers, "but if I wanted two patrols to find each other by accident, that's where I would send them."
Silence settled across the tent, not disagreement but consideration.
Eventually Kael spoke.
"That's unpleasantly convincing."
"It usually is," Soren said.
Eira glanced up, and the corner of Kael's mouth twitched as, for a brief moment, something almost normal passed between them—a familiar rhythm that had existed before White Pass, before Silverwake, before armies.
Then it disappeared again.
Soren turned back toward the map.
"What would he do?"
The question arrived so naturally that it took Eira a second to realize what he had asked—not what would your father do, not an explanation or a defense, but simply what would he do.
It was as though her answer mattered, as though she belonged at the table.
The realization caught her unexpectedly.
Soren appeared unaware of it, already studying the map again and waiting for her answer.
The discussion continued longer than either of them intended, as reports arrived, messengers came and went, and the light outside gradually faded until, by the time the last officer finally left, the tent felt noticeably quieter.
For several moments neither of them moved, while the map still lay open between them with markers scattered across mountains, roads, and valleys, presenting the same impossible problem, only now with fewer hours remaining.
Soren straightened slowly and said, "Enough."
Eira looked up and asked, "You've solved White Pass already?"
"No."
"That's disappointing."
A faint shadow of amusement crossed his face, brief enough that she might have imagined it.
"You haven't slept properly in days."
