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.”

had never

got to pack. You’ve got to pack. We’re heading to Barden.” Argrave grabbed the satchel and threw it over his

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

an audience with Patriarch Dras is going to be extremely difficult. I need a little something to turn his head. In the chaos of battle, no one is going to listen to me if I shout that an ancient calamity is waking up and I

point,” Galamon said, waving his hands as

stared at him. “No, I won’t get to the point. I refuse. Anyway, I was thinking of some ancient traditions the Veidimen have that I might be able to take advantage of. I remember that in case of a snowstorm,

But it’s only accepted if there are extremely pressing circumstances that require cooperation or prevent

put them in his satchel. “I’m glad you confirmed, because frankly, I wasn’t quite sure I got it right. I also don’t know

frowned. “What exactly is

that place for hours, but I’ll skip the details. When their warriors grew old, they’d cover their bodies in melted metal and trap their souls inside. They’d bury their possessions beside them. Therefore, they’d carry their wealth for

brushed his hair back. “I am

in there. 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, you’ll need to head to the

want me to fight against a tomb of

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

friend? The yellow-haired, short woman. Surely she, with proven stealth capabilities,

five senses. They sense one's

went mute, gaze growing

them will wake up, but they’re pretty slow-moving. As long as you’re quick, it should be fine. They hit pretty hard, though. Don’t get hit,” Argrave emphasized, pointing. “Might as well leave

to the chair and sat down. He turned his head

You were fighting against the world-ending calamity. It is my duty to help, I thought.” He pointed to Argrave. “That’s changed. I’m sending it to my family in Veiden, like normal. It’s

heavy is their only virtue. 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

shook his head and sighed. Argrave had rarely seen such an expression on the big man’s face. He stood,

Veiden; you challenge He Who Would Judge the Gods. Both are monumental tasks beyond my ambition. I was proud to serve

reached out and touched his shoulder. “I’m more worried about

became harmonious for a

only dangerous guardians are the archers.

washed back over Galamon’s face once

#####

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 knights on horseback. They were royal

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

it aside, but he paused. His back straightened, and then he kicked the cloth. It rolled

man dismounted. He wore a set of white robes, and they concealed a set of black plate armor. His black hair was bound into one large braid, dropping behind him to

atop a horse. “There is a block ahead in the