Page 46 of The Necromancer's Prisoner

Iggie chuckled dryly. “Quite the charmer. I can tell sheadoredme.”

Alistair’s smile broadened. “I’m sure she would if she stopped glaring at you long enough to give you half a chance.”

Their gazes locked, and Iggie’s frozen eyes thawed into welcoming pools. Heat flooded Alistair that had nothing to do with his dawnflame. Iggie licked his lips, something in his gaze darkening, and Alistair suddenly became far too conscious of how close they were standing, their bodies nearly pressed together in the small workshop.

He took a few steps back, forcing himself to survey the space. “Not much here.”

“Nope,” Iggie agreed after a moment’s hesitation. “Either Julian is the most organized artist in the history of existence or…”

“Or he made a conscious effort to tidy up his room so he didn’t leave behind any incriminating evidence,” Alistair finished. “We’d better take a closer look around, just in case.”

It didn’t take long to confirm their suspicions correct. They couldn’t find any signs of personal effects, nor even anything to mark that someone had ever actually worked there. The tools had all been fastidiously cleaned, the various musical instruments polished and set carefully in their precise spots. The entire space had been rendered lifeless and sterile, right down to the bare desk and its empty glass case.

“I think a visit to Julian’s house is in order,” Iggie said. “If Matrim’s involved in whatever’s going on, it seems a safe bet that Julian is, too.”

“Agreed. This is the work of someone with something to hide. Still, let’s at least check on Matrim’s workspace before we leave.” Alistair glanced down the empty corridor, lowering his voice. “I’m not certain we’ll get another chance at a repeat viewing.”

They found Matrim’s workshop easily enough thanks to Liliana’s directions. Alistair didn’t have high hopes after seeing Julian’s, but to his surprise, the space within was almost its exact opposite. Where Julian’s had been overly cleaned, almost artificially so, Matrim’s was a mess. Broken pieces of song crystal littered the area, along with all manner of instruments and devices seemingly left lying wherever he’d found space to toss them.

Amid the clutter, a sealed glass case sat in the center of the desk. Unlike Julian’s, however, this one held a raw song crystal, its unpolished exterior ablaze with scintillating colors. Like all harmonite, it possessed an inherent beauty. Yet, something about its shifting lights looked vaguely familiar. Had he encountered its like elsewhere around town?

“I’ve seen this pattern before,” Iggie said. He stared at the crystal for a long moment before sucking in a breath, his eyes widening as he stumbled away from it toward the door.

Alistair tensed, scanning the room for signs of danger. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“That light…” Iggie’s gaze remained locked on the shifting crystal, its varied hues playing out over his pale face. “I recognize it. It’s the same as the one I saw in the blizzard while searching for you. T-the same as…”

Iggie hesitated, and Alistair’s heart hammered in his chest. “The same as the one on the creature that attacked your tower,” Alistair finished, his skin prickling.

Closing his eyes, he pictured the shimmering illumination during their brief battle in the blizzard. Now that Iggie had drawn the connection, he could see it clear as day. The colors weren’t the same, this crystal’s mix of red and green differing from the creature’s deep azure glow. But the underlying pattern was close enough to be unmistakable.

Something Erys had told him when he’d first arrived in Singer’s Rest returned to him then, echoing through his mind.Each crystal is unique, shaped by a combination of specific sounds…and the artist’s individual touch.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that it’s time we paid this friend of Matrim’s a visit.”

nineteen

Ignatius

Iggiewaitedinhisroom at the inn while Alistair did a little digging around town to figure out where Julian lived. It galled him, sitting here accomplishing nothing while the paladin did all the work, but he hadn’t been able to dispute Alistair’s logic. If the other villagers’ disdain wasn’t enough to dissuade him from tagging along, Liliana’s reaction certainly had been. His presence would’ve only made the paladin’s task more difficult.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his crimson hair and snuck another peek out the window at the townsfolk going about their business. When they couldn’t see him, they seemed perfectly nice. Friendly, even.

For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to consider Erys’ impossible offer. What would it be like to live in a village like this? To be part of a community? To have friends and people who cared about you?

Alistair’s face wavered before his vision, his golden eyes crinkled with compassion while his lips parted into a welcoming grin, and Iggie’s heart raced. What would it be like to have even more—to share his heart with someone after all these years alone?

Heavy footsteps snapped him from his daydream, and he whirled to find Alistair striding into his room as if summoned by his thoughts. A faint blush colored Iggie’s cheeks as he tamped down his traitorous emotions.That future is a fantasy—nothing more.

“Any luck?” he asked.

Alistair leaned against the stone wall by the door, his armor creaking. “Indeed. It was easy enough to learn where Julian lived, along with Matrim and the other missing villagers.”

When the paladin volunteered nothing else, Iggie frowned and moved to don his cloak. “Well…good. We can start with Julian, then proceed to the others if he’s less than forthcoming. It can’t hurt to perform our own investigation now that we have some sense of what we’re looking for.”

Alistair only nodded, his face troubled.

Iggie paused by the bed with his winter cloak in his hands. “What is it?”