Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 91

Argrave awoke feeling refreshed. Sleep had come easier than he expected it to. At the very least, his body could sleep when he needed to.

All of that changed when he tried to move.

At once, his legs and back groaned, sore and achy from the intense yesterday. His shoulders felt bruised from the backpack, his feet still vaguely protested, and his thighs and calves were both taxed beyond compare. He tried to sit up, but even his core was sore.

“Jesus,” he huffed while leaning up. He felt something stuck in his throat and coughed. His cough was wet and unpleasant, and after he’d finished hacking, he spent some time clearing his throat. He was only able to breathe normally again after he pounded his chest.

“You okay?” Anneliese asked.

Argrave looked up at her. She had a book in her lap as she leaned up against the wall. She looked a mess, just as Argrave felt—her long white hair was braided tightly, yet still dirtied and matted.

“I’m fine,” Argrave waved his hand. “Just my throat, I think. Probably slept with my mouth open.”

Anneliese nodded. “Rare for me to wake before you.”

“Wish it would happen more often, frankly,” Argrave said, rubbing his eyes. “Any notable occurrences, Galamon?” he raised his head, looking towards the doorway.

“Nothing I could hear. Gave up on the smelling. Useless here—the debased blood of the Guardians consumes that sense,” he answered, returning to his usual brevity.

“Alright.” Argrave raised himself to his feet, and a piece of a broken shelf that had stuck to his clothes fell off him, clattering against the stone. “Part of me wishes someone would just break down the door. Kill off some of the uncertainty, at the very least.”

“It’s tempting to think like that,” Galamon stood. “Spent two days in a glacial cave, once, hiding out from enemies after things… went awry. Wanted nothing more than to do something stupid, force something to happen. You can’t, though.”

“I know,” Argrave sighed. “Alright. We have quite a conundrum on our hands, the way I see it. Kept me up a long while, thinking about how I was going to pull my head free of this vice before it slammed shut.”

“Given the circumstances… perhaps the aforementioned diplomacy with the vampires would be our best option,” Anneliese posited. “I am not sure they know three of their own died at our hands.”

Galamon looked ready to protest, but Argrave interjected himself before he could do so.

“I don’t really care to find out what the vampires know,” Argrave shook his head. “My overconfidence landed us in this situation in the first place. We left ourselves in the hands of a greater power, and this greater power proved to be unreasonable. The same might happen again, and I doubt we’d have an easy go escaping from vampires.”

Galamon nodded contentedly, and Anneliese looked to have no rebuttal. Argrave stepped away, placing his hand on the shelf blocking the door. He drummed his fingers on it, lost in thought. With a sudden realization, he frowned and turned around.

in annoyance. “Planning on my own. Seeking no

but did not meet Argrave’s gaze. That, alone, told him that

me lay down some things we might be

#####

face looked locked in a permanent scowl, and when coupled with his bald head, he strongly resembled a vulture. His eyes were cold and hazed, resembling

stood before were each as thick as the man himself, and the metal shone with dancing light—enchantments. They were wide enough to accommodate entry. Though the area the man resided in was filthy, stained with blood and battered by debris, the area beyond the bars was pristine. It shone with golden light from chandeliers dangling from the rafters even now, illuminating a

invisible wall. He kept pushing his hand forward until his fingers formed a fist, and then he pulled his hand back, punching. His skin shook, impacting against

at his hand. He raised a nail up, scratching at the barrier between the metal bars.

and the man quickly turned his head towards it. A necklace of stone roses dangled from

the man called out, voice

slowly walked into the room, taking his place just behind Namara. He had a shrew-like

turning his head back to the bars

have encamped out

Namara uttered, voice a low

his head. “Unknown. They’re watching the entrance. Their leader

repeated. “The

noise,” Vizer said, walking up beside the bars. “Thunder, they said. Only a

“Where?” Namara questioned.

hands together. “Within. And

from the metal bars, some vigor returned to his eyes. “Something’s in here with us.

Vizer.

We need no complications. Send one of our own out, rouse the blood of some of the Guardians. Lure the creatures

emerge from hiding in a timely fashion,” Vizer countered, wringing his hands tightly. “If we lure Guardians, those

our numbers dwindling more and more as the years pass by. It’s intolerable.” Namara glanced at Vizer. “See it done. Use someone reliable—someone used to trekking in the Low Way. The Sentinel, the intruders… let them

then walked away. Namara turned back towards the metal bars, staring

#####

crate, speaking to Anneliese and Galamon. “We’re headed into the

“But I dislike this

spin. “Won’t exactly be easy to get inside.” Argrave reached into his back pocket and pulled free a

“I do. It is a badge signifying membership to the Order of the Gray Owl. It allows one inside the Tower of the Gray Owl or its subsidiary

your magic fingerprint. This tradition of using one’s

mused, placing a finger on her chin. “…the lower levels require a badge

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255