Page 218 of Salt Between the Wolves

The woman adjusted the stack in her arms before adding, "Far fewer come looking for me."

For the first time, amusement flickered across Eira's expression.

The woman noticed immediately.

"That's better."

"Better?"

"You looked entirely too serious when you walked in."

Before Eira could answer, the woman continued.

"I am Ilva Hart."

The name meant nothing to Eira, though the confidence with which it was spoken suggested it should.

"I oversee the archives."

"Then you're exactly who I was looking for."

"Possibly."

Ilva tilted her head.

"What are you searching for?"

Eira opened her mouth and then stopped.

The answer suddenly felt far more complicated than she had expected. Old laws, the marks, Frostvein, herself, and the world all crowded together in her thoughts, leaving her uncertain where one was supposed to begin.

Ilva watched her struggle, not impatiently but curiously.

Finally Eira said, "I think I'm looking for answers."

The older woman studied her for several seconds before nodding slowly.

"Ah."

The sound carried a strange note of understanding.

"That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"The expression."

Eira frowned.

"What expression?"

"The one worn by people who arrive believing answers are stored neatly on shelves."

A brief silence followed.

Then Ilva smiled, not mockingly but knowingly.

"Unfortunately, those are usually the hardest visitors to help."