Page 45 of The Necromancer's Prisoner

For a moment, her face softened, her expression almost sympathetic. Then, she scowled. “Not that his personal troubles have any right impacting our work. We have a reputation to uphold after all—a duty to our customers to give them the value and quality they expect.”

Duty. Reputation. The words set Alistair on edge, conjuring memories of his father barking orders in their estate’s training yard. Weren’t those the same amorphous concepts he’d allowed to drive him all his life? Perhaps he was just as bad as Liliana, always sacrificing his own needs and those of others in pursuit of some supposed greater good.

It took him a while to notice Iggie subtly nudging him in the side. When he did, he shook himself back to the present. “Right. Well, did either Matrim or Julian have a dedicated workspace we could examine?”

He glanced about the room, eying the scattered crystals and tools. Merciful Light, how could anyone accomplish anything in this mess?

Catching the look on his face, Liliana smirked. “This room is little more than a glorified tourist trap. We use it to put on a show for visitors during the summer, as well as to give our less experienced artisans a place to practice. The harmonite here is nothing but scrap. Therealwork takes place in the Catacombs below.” Her eyes narrowed. “Though, that area is usually restricted. What do you want with their workspaces?”

Alistair fought to keep his tone neutral. He could already tell this was going to be a long day. “I’m not certain. But after speaking with Master Erys, we suspect that Matrim may be involved with that creature out there. This seemed as good a place as any to begin searching for answers.”

“Sounds to me like you’d be better off cornering Julian at his home.”

Dawn Aspects grant me patience.“We’ll certainly follow up with Julian as well. First, however, it might help to examine the place where Matrim spent most of his time. If he didn’t leave any clues about what he was up to at home, then perhaps he left some here.”

Liliana grimaced as if she’d tasted something sour. “Fine, I’ll show you where they work. Follow me.” She fixed Iggie with a hard look, and he shifted to stand behind Alistair. “But if your pet necromancer sets one toe out of line…”

“I trust Iggie to handle himself,” Alistair replied, his voice cold.

Liliana gave him another considering look, then shrugged and moved to the stairs without another word. Alistair followed, Iggie a few steps behind. That suited Alistair just fine. While he doubted they’d encounter any danger here, he’d rather be between Iggie and potential threats.

The staircase descended about twenty paces before letting out into a well-lit hallway. Despite its moniker, there was nothing decrepit or tomb-like about the space—like the workshop above, the stone appeared well-maintained, enchanted lanterns illuminating the passage in a steady glow. Doors perched along the sides at regular intervals, each affixed with a detachable nameplate.

Private workshops, Alistair figured, studying the closed doors as they passed. It made sense that the artisans would have their own spaces in which to work rather than a shared communal space like the showroom above, especially while handling something as delicate as harmonite that reacted to any audible sound.

Several minutes passed, and Alistair was just starting to wonder how massive this underground complex was when Liliana paused before a door, jerking it open.

“Julian’s workspace. Should be the same as he left it. He…”

She trailed off, her eyes narrowing as she studied the room. Alistair peeked past her to see an orderly space. Tools neatly lined a tray atop a desk big enough to fill the far wall. Shelves covered with musical instruments and random items capable of emitting sounds coated the rest. A strange glass case sat in the middle of the desk with a metal frame inside that looked like it was meant to hold something in place, though the case currently stood open, the frame empty.

“Howdarehe take his project home with him,” Liliana growled.

“His song crystal?” Alistair asked.

“Hisharmonite. And yes, he’s supposed to keep it safely in that case until it’s complete.”

“Ask her why the case matters,” Iggie murmured.

Alistair opened his mouth, but Liliana snarled, “Don’t bother. I can hear him well enough, even if I’d rather not. These cases are enchanted by Master Erys to completely muffle outside sound. That way, a work in progress can be preserved until the artisan is ready to continue. Each workspace possesses a similar enchantment—with the door shut, you can’t hear a peep from outside and vice versa. Otherwise, the aural pollution down here would be horrendous.”

Alistair nodded slowly. He thought he followed well enough. “Any idea why Julian might have taken his current project with him?”

Liliana scowled, her gaze still fixed on the open case. “No clue, especially if he didn’t know he’d be out. I swear, if he’s faking illness to get out of work…” Her face brightened. “Unless, of course, he brought his project home with him preciselybecausehe knew he wouldn’t be here to complete it. I suppose I’d be willing to overlook the infraction if it meant he completed his crystal on schedule despite his time off.”

Unease whispered through Alistair’s gut. First, Matrim disappeared along with three other harmonite artisans. Now, a fifth artisan and a known associate of Matrim’s had vanished as well, leaving behind evidence that the decision had been premeditated.

Just what will we find when we visit Julian’s home?

“Guildmaster Liliana!”

Liliana turned to regard another artisan rushing down the corridor toward them. “Tour’s over. I’ve wasted enough time I don’t have as it is.”

Alistair planted his feet and crossed his arms over his golden breastplate. “Very well. Iggie and I will take it from here, then. Thank you for all your help.”

Liliana pursed her lips and seemed to consider arguing before thinking better of it. Letting out a low growl, she spun and stalked down the hall toward the approaching artisan. “Matrim’s room is a few doors down on the right,” she shouted back at them. “I trust you will check there—andonlythere—before seeing yourselves out. Good luck, Sir Knight.”

Then, she was gone, barking orders at the unfortunate artisan as they ducked around a corner. Alistair waited until blessed silence fell before releasing a pent-up breath and offering Iggie a tired smile. “Pleasant, isn’t she?”