Page 243 of Salt Between the Wolves

"For years everyone knew where Ironfang stood," he said quietly and with measured precision. "Three months ago, they stopped knowing."

The sea seemed louder suddenly, not because it had changed, but because neither man was listening to it anymore.

For several moments neither man spoke as the sea stretched endlessly beyond the cliffs, grey beneath a sky that seemed unable to decide between storm and sunlight.

Finally Soren shook his head and said, "You dragged me across the North to tell me I'm tired."

Leander's expression remained unchanged as he replied, "No."

"Then what?"

For the first time since the conversation began, something shifted behind Leander's eyes, not irritation or amusement, but genuine concern.

"When did the mark last change?"

The question landed so unexpectedly that Soren stared at him while the wind seemed to sharpen around them, and for a moment neither of them moved before Soren's expression hardened.

"What?"

"The mark," Leander said, holding his gaze. "When did it last change?"

A warning settled into Soren's voice as he asked, "Why are you asking?"

Instead of answering immediately, Leander looked out toward the sea and said, "The healer examined Eira."

Every muscle in Soren's body seemed to tighten, and although Leander noticed, he continued anyway.

"She was concerned, not because Eira was injured or dying, but simply concerned, and the distinction mattered."

Soren's jaw clenched as he asked, "About what?"

"She doesn't know," Leander answered immediately, his honesty uncomfortable but real, and for the first time since the conversation had begun, uncertainty entered the space between them.

Soren frowned and asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what I said," Leander replied as he folded his arms. "The mark has changed, and the healer believes something is happening, though she doesn't know what."

The sea crashed below as Soren looked away first, not because he accepted the answer, but because he hated it, since unknown dangers could not be fought, unknown enemies could not be tracked, and unknown problems could not be solved.

"What kind of change?" he asked.

Leander studied him before answering, "A change significant enough that she spent two days searching through records."

Something cold settled in Soren's stomach as he repeated, "Records?"

"The oldest we possess."

"And?"

Leander's mouth tightened slightly as he said, "And she found very little."

That answer was somehow worse as the wind swept across the cliffs, and for a long moment only the sea spoke before Soren finally asked quietly, "Why didn't you put that in the letter?"

A faint smile touched Leander's face as he replied, "Because if I had, you would have ridden here in half the time."

Despite himself, Soren almost smiled, though the expression vanished before it fully formed as his hand moved unconsciously toward the mark beneath his sleeve, something Leander noticed immediately.

"What has it been doing?" he asked.