“The sea feasts most enthusiastically on the land’s most unwanted offerings,” he said. As if quoting an old poet. Alba gazed at him in quiet intrigue, before laughing weakly again. “Never swallowed me up, though, no matter how many times I fell in. Always spit me right back out to be fished with the rest of the day’s catch.” “You must have had someone on land who would have grieved a little too loudly. The sea can always tell.”