Page 61 of The Necromancer's Prisoner

“She as good as admitted it. She came here to see an undead, then freaked out and attacked.”

“Iknow, Iggie.”

“Julian didn’t even realize what he was doing. He acted on instinct to defend himself. Unless I explicitly order them not to, all of my skeletons will fight back if they feel threatened.”

A pause.

Alistair glanced at the undead standing near the blood-speckled snow and sighed, his stern mask cracking as he rubbed his eyes. “I never should have agreed to this.”

Iggie’s heart lodged in his throat. “What do you mean?”

The paladin turned to gaze out over the expanse of snow beyond town. “I’m sorry, Iggie, but I think it’d be best if you and your undead laid low for a bit. They can shelter in the warehouse while you return to the inn until tomorrow morning when we fight the harmonite golem.”

“That’s not fair!” Iggie protested. “You can’t possibly tell me you’re takingherside?”

“I’m not takinganyone’sside. But as a Knight of the Order, I’m responsible for keeping every villager here safe…even from their own stupidity.” Alistair puffed out another sigh as he shook his head. “This sort of thing is precisely what I worried would happen when you proposed your plan. Regular people and skeletons just aren’t meant to mix.”

The paladin’s words hit Iggie like a slap to the face. “You mean regular people andmejust aren’t meant to mix.”

Alistair frowned. “That’s not what I said.”

“No, but it’s what you meant.” Iggie shuffled back from the paladin so that Marlon and Cynthia stood between them like a protective barrier. Not that their presence did much to shelter Iggie from his whirlwind of emotions. “I saw the way that woman looked at me. It’s the same wayeveryonein Singer’s Rest does. You said it yourself last night—they don’t actually want my help. To them, I’m as much a monster as that golem coming to slaughter them tomorrow.”

Alistair smiled sadly. “Maybe so. But that doesn’t mean you can’t help them anyway.”

“No. But perhaps it means Ishouldn’t.”

Alistair’s smile faded. “You don’t mean that.”

“If my undead aren’t good enough to help evacuate the town, then it seems to me they aren’t good enough to defend it tomorrow either.”

Alistair tightened his jaw, his golden gaze narrowing. “What happened to trying to see the good in everyone? To honoring the oath you made to defend Singer’s Rest? You can’t just abandon all these people without a second thought!”

An image of that woman’s scorn flashed before Iggie’s eyes. More images followed it—the dozens if nothundredsof people who’d looked at him with that exact same hatred over the years.

“Why not? It’s what they’d do to me.”

Alistair bowed his head. “If that’s how you really feel, then you’re not the man I thought you were.”

The paladin’s condemnation sliced through Iggie like a dawnflame-infused blade, hacking and burning him from the inside out until nothing remained but ash.

“No,” he replied. “I suppose I’m not.”

Without another word, he turned and strode out into the snow, his undead following in his wake.

twenty-four

Alistair

Alistairbarelyrememberedfinishingup at the warehouse, nor the remaining preparations he attended to afterward. His mind felt trapped in a haze, like there was a blizzard within his brain blinding him with icy sleet while it pounded away at his consciousness.

Part of him yearned to abandon his duties, abandon everything, and rush into the snowy wastes after Iggie. Whether to convince him to return to Singer’s Rest or to flee with him to parts unknown, he wasn’t certain.

The greater part of him, though, remained furious at the necromancer. How could he turn his back so easily on everything they’d worked to achieve here? All Alistair had done was attempt to preserve the peace. If Iggie couldn’t accept that, then so be it. Alistair would do what he’d been sent out here to do in the first place—identify the threat to Singer’s Rest and eliminate it. Alone.

Night had fallen in earnest by the time the caravan was ready to depart. Their supplies were tied together on sleds fashioned for hauling, and the townspeople stood assembled with whatever else they could carry, bundled up against the frigid night air.

“About time,” Liliana grunted. She scowled as she surveyed the chaotic procession. “We were supposed to be out of here hours ago. The trek will be twice as dangerous in the dark.”