17. Ignatius
seventeen
Ignatius
“You don’t have to do this. If you’d rather wait in your room, I can meet with Erys alone.”
Staring out over the small clearing at Erys’ tower, Iggie swallowed.
He had to admit he found Alistair’s offer tempting.
The too-friendly mage set him on edge. Why would Erys risk standing up for Iggie if he didn’t think he had something to gain?
Not to mention Alistair’s previous suspicions.
While nothing was certain, the runeflame connection was too incriminating to ignore.
His eyes settled on Alistair’s concerned face, and the knot of tension within him eased. “No,” he said, firming his shoulders. “I’ve followed you this far. I intend to see this through to the end. Besides, I owe these people for mooching off their supplies. The least I can do is try to help.”
Their gazes locked, and Iggie’s heart leaped as the paladin gave him a tentative smile. “Thank you,” he said softly. He licked his lips, looking like he wanted to say more…or perhaps do more. One hand tentatively raised as if to reach for Iggie, only to lower a moment later.
When the paladin resumed walking, Iggie shoved down his instant regret. I need to keep my distance, he reminded himself. That was the only way he’d escape this mess with his heart relatively unscathed. Alistair’s hesitation to defend him yesterday offered proof enough of that.
“Come on, then,” Alistair called over his shoulder. “And make sure to stay on your guard. If Erys does have a hand in whatever’s happening here, we might be walking into a trap.”
A fresh wave of unease rippled over Iggie as they stepped into the clearing, packed snow crunching underfoot.
After the lukewarm reception he’d received yesterday, part of him had considered slipping off in the middle of the night.
It would have been easy enough. There were no guards posted at the inn that he could detect, and Alistair had retired to his room early.
Yet, something had held him back. He’d told himself it was simple curiosity—now that he was part of this, he wanted to see how it all played out, and it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.
But he knew that the real reason he’d stayed despite all his instincts screaming at him to flee was walking right in front of him, his golden breastplate gleaming in the morning sun.
Iggie would stick around long enough to help the paladin complete his quest and repay the town for the trouble he’d caused. Then, he’d move on. Navigating the mountain pass would be tricky in the winter, but he’d find a way to survive. He always did.
The mage’s tower appeared much like the one Iggie had occupied for the last several weeks.
The battering mountain winds had worn its stone facade smooth, and the walls shimmered in the morning sun.
At first, Iggie thought that might be the result of enchantments woven into the rock.
As they drew closer, however, he spied the tiles of harmonite set into the tower like scales, each aglow with its own unique pattern.
Unlike the unworked harmonite scattered about Singer’s Rest, these had plainly been created by a master artisan.
Their fluctuating patterns flowed smoothly together in waves of rippling color that stole Iggie’s breath.
The entire work represented a vision of harmonious design fused with artistry on a scale unlike anything he’d ever seen.
“It’s incredible,” Alistair murmured. Iggie glanced over to find him equally awestruck. Iggie could only nod mutely in response.
After a few heartbeats spent admiring the dazzling display, they continued across the clearing to the tower’s entrance. Alistair gave a firm knock on the door while a flicker of doubt coursed down Iggie’s spine. Perhaps he should have taken Alistair’s proffered out after all.
Before he could reconsider, the door flew open to reveal a beaming Erys. “Ah, right on time! Come on in, boys. Make yourselves at home.”
The mage shuffled out of the way, and they followed him inside.
Iggie cautiously shut the door behind them.
He wasn’t sure what to expect from a mage’s house—animated objects running amok amid towering shelves of arcane tomes, perhaps, or glowing runes coating every visible surface.
The reality, however, proved to be far less exciting.
“Please excuse the mess,” Erys said, gesturing at the cluttered but cozy living room. “I always mean to organize it, but if I did, I’d never be able to find anything.”
“Right,” Alistair said, as though that made a single bit of sense.
Iggie stuck close to the paladin’s side while Erys cleaned off some comfortable-looking chairs before a merry fireplace, though his ‘cleaning’ mostly consisted of shoving the books and papers piled there onto the floor. Alistair gingerly sat in the cleared space. Iggie followed suit.
“Thank you for offering to assist me with my investigation,” Alistair began. “Now that it’s clear the situation is more complicated than I first believed, I’d like to learn more about what’s happened thus far and see if we can deduce what manner of creature I might be facing.”
“Of course, of course. Hold that thought.”
Erys bustled over to another door across the room from where they’d entered. Iggie frowned at it. If his estimation of the tower’s interior was correct, that should exit out the other side. Did the mage keep a back entrance? Surely, he wouldn’t leave right after they’d arrived.
Astonishment gripped Iggie when Erys threw open the door to reveal another room beyond, this one reminiscent of a quaint kitchen with a kettle burbling on the stove and three cups set out on the counter beside it. That…that shouldn’t be possible.
Iggie gave the living room another onceover and realized what he’d missed when they’d first arrived—there were no stairs spiraling up to any levels overhead. Had the mage enchanted that doorway to provide access to the tower’s other floors?
He glanced at Alistair, but if the casual display of magic bothered the paladin, it didn’t show on his face. Iggie strove to keep his own nerves similarly in check. If Erys attempted an ambush, he trusted Alistair to protect them.
“Do you take any milk or honey in your tea?” the mage called out.
“Both, thank you,” Alistair replied. He settled back into his chair, seeming perfectly relaxed. Iggie envied him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been around other people without fearing for his life. Besides Alistair, that is.
Shoving the unwelcome thought aside, Iggie blinked and realized that Erys was watching him with a raised brow.
It took him a moment to realize that the mage had been asking him, too.
Of course, he was—there were three cups, weren’t there?
Iggie simply wasn’t used to anyone offering him something of their own volition.
“Just black is fine.” His voice came out a nervous squeak. Alistair’s lips quirked, and Iggie cleared his throat, glaring at the paladin. Given his churning gut, it was a miracle he’d managed to speak at all.
While they waited for Erys to return from the kitchen, Alistair leaned in. “So, what do you think? Is he as harmless as he appears?”
Iggie studied Erys’ back as he prepared their tea. “I honestly can’t tell. He seems eager enough to help, but that creature out there had to come from somewhere.”
“Indeed.” Alistair smiled softly, holding Iggie’s gaze. “Well, if he tries anything, he’ll have me to answer to.”
Iggie’s breath caught. Lost in the bright light of the paladin’s golden eyes, all Iggie’s doubts and admonitions to keep his distance felt irrelevant. He could no sooner block out the sun.
Footsteps clacked off stone, and Alistair looked away, breaking their connection.
Iggie slumped in his chair, his heart hammering in his chest. Shadow and shade, what was he doing?
Hadn’t the town meeting yesterday been enough for him to learn his lesson?
He was better off alone. Allowing anyone else in, especially a paladin, would only lead to disaster.
A small tray hovered through the air past Erys, settling on a little table with their respective teacups while the mage took a seat opposite them. He looked at them expectantly. “Now that we are properly equipped for serious discussion, shall we get down to business?”
“Very well.” Alistair’s countenance shifted, his back straightening while his face adopted an authoritative edge. Within moments, he’d assumed the imposing guise of a Knight as if tugging on a familiar second skin. “What can you tell us about this creature we saw?”
Erys took a long sip of his tea. “To be honest, not much. Your description leaves several possibilities.”
Iggie’s stomach sank. So much for getting answers. Was the mage being genuine, or was he attempting to intentionally obfuscate their investigation?
A furrow creased Alistair’s brow, and Iggie wondered if he’d thought the same. “Such as?”
“Well for starters, it could be a magical beast.”
“But I thought you said you’d never seen anything like it around Singer’s Rest before?” Iggie asked, momentarily forgetting himself.
The other two glanced at him, and he shrank back in his chair, their sudden attention sending a jolt of alarm buzzing across his skin.
For a moment, he could’ve sworn he felt an answering buzz from his spirit links despite his undeads’ distance.
Sending a silent command to hold just in case, he focused back on the room in time to see Erys nod.
“I haven’t. But much of these mountains remains unexplored, and Singer’s Rest has yet to reach its fifth decade. For all we know, this creature might migrate through the area every so many years. Or perhaps something disturbed its usual hunting ground and drove it out from deeper in the mountains.”
“And the other possibilities?” Alistair asked with a contemplative frown.