Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 66

Argrave’s hand came alive with a spell matrix and a small ball of flame jumped up into the air above his head, illuminating the stone passage ahead. Thorngorge Citadel was distinct from the previous places they had explored. The tomb of metal guardians had been wide and spacious, the ruins hidden within the Cavern of the Lily’s Death had been meticulously carved, but the Citadel was surpassingly simple in design.

A straight cube-shaped hallway stretched ahead. Every so often, iron bars blocked the path. They had been broken, seemingly ripped apart, and the years had rusted them to uselessness. Some of the breaks left sharp points exposed. Argrave could see dried blood on the floor on and near the sharp parts—evidently the creatures roaming the citadel had cut themselves on the exposed metal.

Galamon stepped forward past Argrave, advancing first as he had been directed. Argrave could see his head moving about, scanning each bit of the hallway before proceeding. When they came to the first set of iron bars, Anneliese paused and peered at where they met the walls.

“These bars… they can’t open, nor can they slide out of the way,” she noted. “You called this place a citadel? Why are these bars like this?”

Argrave had been expecting that she would ask some questions and had an answer prepared. “It’s a mage’s citadel. The Order of the Rose had mastery in earth elemental magic. This entire place was built with magic alone. Supposedly, they could build one of these citadels in a day provided they had enough capable spellcasters. Their mastery was great enough to manipulate even metal.”

“I see,” she muttered, her curiosity sated somewhat.

Galamon took his bow off his back and took an arrow from his quiver. Argrave and Anneliese paused, and in the silence, the faint sound of choked breathing could be heard.

“Be sure it’s not just a head,” Argrave cautioned. “Like I said, we don’t want to get the attention of the Dire Eyes.”

Galamon’s white eyes fixed on Argrave briefly, and he nocked an arrow. “I am capable of remembering things you say. You seem to forget this often.”

“I just don’t want any—"

The bow twanged, and a black blur vanished into darkness. A rather unpleasant noise sounded out ahead, and Galamon walked forth. Argrave could only shake his head and follow along. When they finally reached what the arrow had hit, Argrave saw one of the eight-armed head creatures with an arrow sticking right out of its black eye. Its arms spasmed a few times, fingers clenching, and then it grew still.

Galamon put his foot on its forehead and pulled the arrow out. Argrave stepped back so that none of its viscera would land on his shoes. Galamon cleaned the arrow and then proceeded onwards. The hallway began to slope down ahead of them, but Argrave’s steps were confident. Galamon glanced back at him, brows furrowed.

“What?” asked Argrave.

Galamon shook his head, and then proceeded. The hallway levelled out again, and ahead of them finally opened up into a room. Galamon stopped Argrave with his arm, staring into the darkness beyond.

“I see one of those… heads… that you mentioned,” he said.

and replied,

bedframes. The mattresses within had rotted away to nothing. When the light of the spell fell upon a head on a spike, sound filled the room, and both

stone walls, filling the place with sound.

blanket and draped it over the head, and the sound faded somewhat. He turned back to his two

on the blanket. “This first level has the soldiers' dormitories. The non-mages would sleep here. Rather kind of the

on

perplexed.

Anneliese said. “These things…” she trailed

Berendar,’ abandoned citadels constructed by the Order of the Rose were likely the most common. They were largely uniform in design, and the biggest risks were the traps, not

comes from uncertainty… the unknown,” Argrave said slowly, speaking only as the answer came to him. He knew Thorngorge Citadel like the back of his hand. After all, [Electric Eel] was one of his favorite attack spells, and this was one of the easiest places to get it. He had seen these creatures a thousand times before; their unusual appearances did not bother him even if they were far more realistic than he

know what lurks in here. We’re more than capable of confronting anything within. What’s there to be fearful of?” Argrave concluded, thumping the screaming creature’s forehead. Anneliese stared at it as it growled beneath the canvas. She blinked a

envy

snorted, and then made to proceed. Opposite the hallway they had entered from, another identical one sloped gently downward. It proceeded onward for a short bit, and then opened up into

whisper. On the inner wall of the hallway, there was an empty space acting as a window into the portion beyond.

citadel, each with an opening identical to the one they looked out of. The source of the whispers dominated most of their vision,

black-and-gold eyes were beautiful and decidedly feminine, and each blink was exaggerated by large lashes.

was shaking. He grabbed her shoulder, and she flinched slightly. “Take it easy. Those things can’t move. They’re one of the least dangerous

trying to reassure herself. Argrave turned her away forcibly, leading her away from the inner

this place might have, Argrave reflected. He bit his lips, thinking, and

than it had been before, but Galamon still maintained a cautious pace, pausing only to dispatch some of the eight-armed creatures lurking on the walls or ceilings.

descended all the way to the bottom, spiraling down steadily. Anneliese was quite reticent during this time, focused more on the path ahead of her than the things around her. Argrave

of the bone and flesh plant in the central room pierced the stone of this floor, some rose-faces exposed in the hallway. It was difficult to avoid their voices. Argrave made sure to proceed past them quickly, but sometimes they were directly above or beside the hallway, peering down and

to a room that had a wooden door—an oddity, considering most

legs, it should be largely immobilized and easily dispatched. Each leg is about

bow aside for the rest of my life,” Galamon said, weighing his weapon in his

not very observant, so you can expect the first shot to

pulled his hand away. “I go first, as

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