Page 65 of Salt Between the Wolves

The answer emerged quietly.

Varda nodded.

"I know."

The simplicity of those words nearly hurt more than sympathy would have.

No one else spoke about Riven anymore, at least not directly and never with her. The fortress had moved on in the way living things always did, while only Eira seemed unable to follow.

The healer slid the satchel across the table.

"There."

Eira looked down at it and immediately realized there were more supplies than she had asked for. She recognized several items at once: extra bandages, additional herbs, and a second jar of salve, enough for a journey considerably longer than the one she had described.

Slowly, she lifted her eyes.

Varda was already returning to her work.

Neither woman mentioned the excess supplies because neither needed to.

After a moment, Eira picked up the satchel.

"Thank you."

The old woman smiled faintly.

"Take care of yourself."

The words sounded ordinary, yet something in the way she said them made Eira suspect they meant far more than that.

As she left the infirmary, the satchel felt unexpectedly heavy in her hands, not because of its contents but because it had been a long time since anyone had looked at her and seen a person instead of a problem.

Chapter 10: The Leaving

Eira

By the time Eira left the storage halls, the sun had already begun its slow descent toward the western peaks. Pale light spilled across the stone passageways and open courtyards, painting long shadows across the fortress.

The satchel rested against her hip, heavier than it should have been. A few supplies had found their way inside during the afternoon—nothing that would attract attention on its own, but enough to slowly build the provisions she kept hidden in her rooms.

She told herself it was simply preparation. Nothing more.

Yet she had spent the better part of the week returning to the storerooms whenever she could, collecting small necessities one item at a time. The routine occupied her hands and gave structure to thoughts she preferred not to examine too closely.

The effort had helped, at least for a while.

Perhaps that was why she failed to notice the voices at first.

The conversation drifted from a storage alcove beneath one of the galleries. It was not hidden or secret, merely private enough that its owners assumed no one else was nearby.

Eira would have walked past without paying attention if she had not caught a familiar word.

"...her."

Her steps slowed slightly, though not enough to draw attention.

A man sighed.