Liston raised the lantern to illuminate the ceiling above. He found no waterlogged, discolored wood, and no water was dripping down.
The air was saturated with moisture, evenly and thoroughly, so dense that it made him feel as if he were by the sea at dusk. The sea breeze carried vapor rising from the boundless waters, enveloping everything around them. It was not especially cold, yet it bore an inescapable sense of grandeur.
And this was only a small room, utterly out of place in Wenden Port after several consecutive days of clear weather.
"You're telling me that the person who supposedly 'stayed in his room all day' just vanished into thin air?" Liston pulled the innkeeper into the room, bringing the lantern almost up to the window. "What is this supposed to mean?"
His tone carried anger meant to mask his panic. The door and windows had been locked from the inside, and the room was unnaturally damp. The circumstances stirred a fear that boiled up from his subconscious: a revulsion toward the incomprehensible, an inability to accept a supernatural turn of events that defied logic.
His instinct was to leave this strange room and escape the whole affair, so he could return to his calm, uneventful life. But this turn of events answered his question precisely: Clear Clarity had to be connected to something more sinister, something deeper. He couldn't accept that the one person who could connect the dots had gone missing.
Besides, he was already in too deep. Not knowing the truth would keep him from sleeping or eating in peace.
"This can't be..." the innkeeper murmured. It was hard to tell whether he was frightened by the eerie disappearance or pressured by Liston.
Liston walked across the floor, testing the planks. They were sturdy and