Page 210 of Salt Between the Wolves

Garrick shifted slightly, and the movement drew Soren's attention.

The captain said nothing and offered no advice, rescue, or judgment, yet somehow Soren remembered every warning from the previous days and every one he had ignored.

The silence stretched long enough for discomfort to settle around the room.

Finally, Soren spoke.

"We wait."

Several wolves blinked, clearly expecting something else—a plan, an order, a threat, or anything at all.

Instead, he repeated himself.

"We wait."

Kael frowned.

"Waiting is exactly what Vargan wants."

"Perhaps."

The answer came quietly.

"But I'm finished giving him what he wants."

The room fell silent once more, though this time for a different reason.

For the first time since Eira disappeared, Soren was no longer reacting, and nobody in the room seemed entirely certain whether that was a good sign or a bad one.

The council dispersed slowly, and no one seemed entirely satisfied, though no one appeared entirely dissatisfied either. The uncertainty hanging over Ironfang simply followed them out of the room, lingering in every departing conversation and every thoughtful glance exchanged between the wolves.

Before long, only three people remained.

Soren, Garrick, and Kael.

The map still covered most of the table, crowded with roads, borders, villages, and problems, and there seemed to be far too many of all four. Soren stared at it without really seeing any of it.

When footsteps approached, he didn't need to look up.

"You've been talking about me."

The words left his mouth before either man had a chance to speak.

The silence that followed was answer enough.

Soren almost smiled.

"At least have the decency to deny it."

Kael pulled out a chair and sat down.

"I considered it."

"And?"

"You would've known I was lying."

It was a fair point, unfortunately.