18. Alistair #3
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—and only there—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?”
Iggie chuckled dryly. “Quite the charmer. I can tell she adored me.”
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.”