Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave opened the door to the abandoned house. He was greeted by a harsh smell. Galamon stood at the table, a fire heating up a large glass bottle that had been turned black by the flames.

“Jesus,” Argrave said, coughing. “I forgot how bad that stuff smells. You get used to it when you live next to it, but…”

“You’re back,” Galamon said. “Sleep well?”

“Better than usual.” Galamon nodded at Argrave’s answer, then picked up the glass bottle. He smothered the flames with a blanket.

“This was the last potion. Eight bottles of the calming brew, four stamina-restoring potions. I fixed the Ebonice arrow. It was bent.”

“I presume your leeching session went well?” He strode in, waving in front of his face to dispel the smell.

Galamon looked at Argrave coldly.

“Come on,” Argrave urged, tapping Galamon’s elbow. “Laughing at something is how you learn to live with it.”

The snow elf set the potion down and picked up a cloth to wipe his hands. “It is a curse. An affliction. An illness is no laughing matter.”

Argrave pursed his lips. “You don’t have to sleep, you don’t age, and the only price is a strange diet and heliophobia.”

“I will not rest with Veid when I die. Instead, I will be lost in the abyss.”

“So, don’t die,” Argrave said, then laughed. His laughter trailed to a stop as Galamon’s pure white eyes stared at him like he was a bug. “Well, whatever. If it’s so terrible, once we’ve killed the world-ending ancient calamity, we can cure you. Until then, keep those fangs sharp.”

“Vampirism cannot be cured,” Galamon said quickly.

“Not by you alone. Me? I have my ways.”

Galamon shook his head. “Erlebnis’ method would be costly.”

“Pfft, where'd that come from?” Argrave waved his hand dismissively, then looked around for his satchel. “Why involve an ancient god? There are plenty of ways.”

Galamon stared. “Supposing that is true… you assume I will not die in your fool’s quest.”

Argrave looked at him, pausing. “You won’t.”

you now… that possibility had never entered your head before I

held his hand up. “I’ll die centuries before you do. Stop with the morbidity. We’ve got to pack. You’ve got to pack. We’re heading to Barden.” Argrave grabbed the satchel and threw it over

but eventually moved and grabbed his bag, putting stoppers in the bottles and loading them in. “It’s the eve of war,

me to one conclusion; getting an audience with Patriarch Dras is going to be extremely difficult. I need

his hands as

of some ancient traditions the Veidimen have that I might be able to take advantage of. I

of it. But it’s only accepted if there are

you confirmed, because frankly, I wasn’t quite sure I got it right. I also don’t know how to make the signal. Simply put, you need to head to the ruins to create the

exactly is

Argrave said excitedly. He’d finished packing all of the potions and came to stand before Galamon. “It holds some ancient race of elves that—well, I could talk about that place for hours, but I’ll skip the details. When their warriors grew old, they’d cover their bodies in melted metal and

his hair back. “I am not sure that I

There’s a seal on the door, but it broke recently—some stupid miners, you’ll find them dead just about everywhere. From the entryway,

want me to fight against a tomb

you take something,” Argrave assured. “Just be sure not to kick anything around, you’ll be fine—I

short woman. Surely she, with proven stealth

the normal five senses. They sense one's magic. Besides, it’s dark in there. You have

went mute, gaze

end of the tomb. It’s on top of their dead king’s head. You’ll have to take it and run. All of them will wake up, but they’re pretty slow-moving. As long as you’re quick, it should be

sat down. He turned his head up

considered returning the 3000 gold that you paid me. You were fighting against the world-ending calamity. It is my duty to

Once the fighting breaks out, you’ll be off to fetch them in short order. It’s my duty to hold out until then. We’ll parley with the Veidimen, kill the tomb guardians, and then I’ll use this silver tongue of mine to get

sighed. Argrave had rarely seen such an expression on the big man’s face. He

You possess the same sort of boldness Dras did, I think. He united all of Veiden; you challenge He Who Would Judge the Gods. Both are monumental

you’ll be fine,” Argrave hesitantly reached out and touched his shoulder. “I’m more worried about myself. I have to hold out against a tide of

harmonious for a moment. Argrave remembered

archers. Those… well, I’m

over Galamon’s face once

#####

things. Its most notable feature was a set of statues atop it. It depicted various human figures in saint-like poses. Each seemed to represent something. The modest carriage was contrasted fiercely by an array of gold-armored

something ahead in the road. It looked like a heap of black cloth, but it was large enough that the carriage would not be able to drive over it unimpeded. The royal knights

and throw it aside, but he paused. His back straightened, and then

robes, and they concealed a set of black plate armor. His black hair was bound into one

one of the royal knights greeted, bowing from atop a horse. “There is a block ahead in the road. This will be only a