Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 26

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 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.”

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

one conclusion; getting an audience with Patriarch Dras is going to be extremely difficult. I need a little something to turn his

said, waving his

and 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

of it. But it’s only

I got it right. I also don’t know how to make the signal.

frowned. “What exactly is in

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

hair back. “I am

but it broke recently—some stupid miners, you’ll find them

want me to fight against a

won’t fight unless you take something,” Argrave assured. “Just be sure

send your illusionist friend? The yellow-haired, short woman. Surely she, with proven

senses. They sense one's magic. Besides, it’s dark in

mute, gaze growing

of 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 your weapons out front, barring that axe you've got. Hard to kill them

chair and sat down.

me. You were fighting against the world-ending calamity. It is my duty to help, I thought.” He pointed

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

expression on the big man’s face. He stood,

are monumental tasks beyond my ambition. I was proud to serve under Dras; let us see if things are as you

shoulder. “I’m more worried about myself. I have to hold

harmonious for a

the archers. Those… well, I’m sure

over Galamon’s

#####

humble carriage drove down a poorly made road. It was wooden, and though it looked well-crafted, it was unadorned with fanciful 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

in the road. It looked like a heap of black cloth, but it was large enough

dismounted and reached over to the heap of cloth to pick it up and throw it aside, but he paused. His

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 his knees. His eyes were gray and his

atop a horse. “There is a

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