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

We’ve got to pack. You’ve got to pack. We’re heading to Barden.” Argrave grabbed the satchel and threw it over his shoulders. “Amendment; I am going to Barden. You

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

these stormy tides, these past few days of reviewing my plans mentally have led me to one conclusion; getting an audience with Patriarch Dras is going to be extremely

his

traditions the Veidimen have that I might be able to take advantage of. I remember that in case of a snowstorm, the Veidimen would signal each other, even if

but nodded. “The Veelstron sign, yes. I am surprised you know of it. But it’s only accepted if

right. I also don’t know how to make the signal. Simply put, you need to head to the ruins to create the circumstances for the… Veelstron sign,” Argrave pronounced each syllable, ensuring

exactly is in these

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

brushed his hair back. “I am not sure

a seal on the door, but it broke recently—some stupid miners, you’ll find them

against a tomb of

you take something,” Argrave assured. “Just be sure not to

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

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

went mute, gaze

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

moved to the chair and sat down. He turned

you paid me. 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 the last bit of gold

know your capabilities. These guys are slow and clumsy. Being 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

expression on the big man’s

did, I think. He united all of Veiden; you challenge He Who Would Judge the Gods. Both are monumental tasks beyond

shoulder. “I’m more worried about myself. I have to hold out against a tide of Veidimen

harmonious for a moment. Argrave remembered

dangerous guardians are the archers. Those…

washed back over Galamon’s

#####

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

the carriage continued along the road, the carriage driver brought the horses to a slow, seeing 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

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

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 his knees. His eyes were gray and his

horse. “There is a block ahead in the road. This will