Jackal Among Snakes

Galamon had his hands on the handles of a turn wheel. As he turned it, a heavy iron gate rose upwards, the sound of chains echoing out into the spacious central lobby. Argrave kneeled low, trying to peer into the opening that appeared to little effect—the place beyond was dark. Argrave gave up and turned around, peering out down to the first floor of the headquarters of the Order of the Rose. He felt exposed in the open place, having grown used to the constancy of the stone walls in the room they’d slept.

“There,” Galamon finished with a grunt, looking up at the iron gate which hung suspended.

Argrave turned around. “Nothing… lurking out there, right?”

Galamon took his hands off the wheel and moved to look around. After ten or so seconds, he nodded. “Nothing near. But still… be cautious. Don’t want you freezing up as you did last time if I missed something.”

“Nor do I,” Argrave agreed, stepping forth. The magic light he’d conjured to light the way followed with him, illuminating some beyond. Anneliese evidently felt the light was insufficient, for she conjured a spell of much grander light. A ball travelled forth from her hand, dispelling the darkness.

The Menagerie of Morbidity lived up to the ‘morbid’ part of its name at once. Compared to the lobby, where one might see the occasional body of a Guardian or the ivory stalks left behind by the destroyed flesh plants that illuminated the area, this place was quite intense.

Despite being a bit ominous, the entrance was quite a stunning sight. The skeletal remains of a dragon hung down from the railings of the second floor of the Menagerie, cracked and decayed but nonetheless glorious. A tree with red, oak-like leaves grew out from its left eye socket. Dozens of other skeletons surrounded the dragon’s corpse. Some bore rotten crimson robes and were decidedly humanoid. Others consisted only of a skull and two arms protruding from where the ears might’ve been—the remains of some Guardians of the Low Way.

The place was wrecked far more so than the other areas of the Low Way. The tile was cracked, both from battle and from growth. Moss covered most of the floor beyond the entrance, ranging in color from purple to blue to red. Trees with red leaves filled up much of the place, at times so dense it was difficult to tell they were inside a building. Their roots disturbed the stone, making the path uneven and awkward. Some of them had white berries growing from their branches. The fruits had rings on the bottom, making them look a bit like eyes from a distance.

“This is why I didn’t eat,” Argrave said, stepping up slowly and pulling a berry from a tree. He put it in his mouth and chewed. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it actually tasted quite pleasant. Then again, after the day he’d had yesterday, anything would likely taste pleasant.

“Are you sure that…?” Anneliese trailed off when Argrave swallowed.

“Pretty good, actually. Kind of like… grapefruit, I guess, but less tangy.” Argrave pulled a few more off.

Anneliese watched with obvious concern. “I do not know what grapefruit is.” When Argrave swallowed another, she quickly said, “Maybe you should not eat so many.”

“It’s safe, don’t worry,” Argrave assured. Argrave held his hands out, the white fruits balanced atop his bony palm. “Try some. Every bit helps. Besides, we don’t want to cut into our rations too deeply.”

said hesitantly, staring at the berries. “I think I will stick to our preserved

be frivolous, Argrave,” Galamon said. “The gate. I think it would be best to leave it open, even if it might attract

discovers it, which is unlikely, who says they’re to assume it’s us? Better to leave the possibility of speedy

assessment of the situation, then spent their time examining the

a straightforward

crimson forest beyond. “It

an idea why there are so many of the Guardians of the Low Way dead here?”

Guardians and the things within the Menagerie aren’t exactly allies.” Argrave pushed one with his toe. “This place… uncomfortably crowded, a lot of

traverse than even Nodremaid. The growth of moss and plants made the strain of walking less on the back and feet, but the uneven terrain made watching one’s step paramount—twisting an ankle would be less terrible than on Earth because of the presence of healing magic, but Argrave still

in single file. Though the berries had only vaguely resembled eyes from the entrance, inside the forest, Argrave got the chilly feeling that a thousand gazes were on him at once. Argrave tried eating more of the berries to dispel that feeling, but the taste was ruined when he perceived them as eyeballs and he found them

their creation, they slowly morphed back into the shape they had been molded from. They would see the body of a tiger, for instance, yet the head had been morphed back into an arm or leg. Even as bone, it was

great black bull huffed at them as they passed by, the horns on its head morphed into two skeletal arms that moved with an apparent will of their own. The creature approached the steel bars that held it, and the two arms reached out, bony fingers grasping the bars as any human prisoner might. It unsettled Argrave more than he cared to admit, and he did not feel at ease walking by it. He checked behind him at times to be sure

enough that each and every step was ever more uncertain. The smell of rot made Argrave nauseous. The hallway they had been travelling on opened, and the forest of red trees thinned, opening into a large room. Cages were placed equidistantly throughout

where it might’ve had scales, veiny skin covered instead. Uneven patches of hair grew at random portions, with varying colors and lengths. Cuts

about the room to be sure nothing was amiss. A dog-like animal of

shoulder. “Maybe we don’t need to

hard to hear. Hard to

“Then…?” Argrave pressed.

up at him, white eyes shining within his helmet. “Where do we

follow it until the end. Whether we weave through the cages or

nodded, rising to his

human arms, which made their movements awkward and jerky. They screeched horribly as the three of them passed. The sight that made Argrave most uneasy, though, was an empty cage. Its bars

This place was much more open than the entryway and largely free of obscuring vegetation, which assuaged some of Argrave’s fears. This place was the personnel’s branch of the Menagerie,

the left,” Argrave

sigh of relief. They proceeded upwards, and Argrave stopped them at the door. It was made