Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave shut the door to their room, taking a breath before turning around. The rolled-up piece of paper that had been delivered to them sat in the center of a table, each of them hovering about it as though it was something dangerous that needed to be watched.

After glancing between his two companions, who remained silent, he stepped up to the paper. He removed the purple sash, unrolling the paper gingerly with his gloves. He read through it.

“Huh.” He lowered it. “It really is just an invitation. Thought there’d be more, maybe. Secret message, a death threat, something…”

“Do you know the sender?” Anneliese asked.

“Sure,” Argrave nodded. He placed one hand to his chin as he recounted, “This Mistress Tatia is a mage, relatively stable and pacific, yet quite… detached and inhuman.” Argrave looked up and added, “Just like most of the Vessels, come to think of it.”

“And her rank?” Anneliese pressed further.

“Not applicable,” Argrave shook his head. “Their source of power isn’t magic. They’re associated with Fellhorn. ‘Vessel’ isn’t a metaphor—they’re conduits for Fellhorn’s aspects. They’re capable of taking and expunging waters in oceanic proportions, and with far more freedom than most magic offers. Each Vessel is an oasis in and of themselves, each with variable capacities.”

“Then perhaps mage is not the best term,” Anneliese posited.

Galamon held out a hand. “All that matters—we can refuse this without consequence?”

“I mean… reasonably, yes,” Argrave said, holding his hands out. “But we wouldn’t earn any friends. If I learned anything from Jast, having Elaine as an ally was helpful in ways I hadn’t even predicted. And with the sandstorm, traveling is impossible anyway.”

Galamon crossed his arms, looking completely neutral at the prospect. Anneliese, though, shook her head.

“Provided there are no ulterior motives, no other forces at work…” Anneliese looked to Argrave, who confirmed this with a relatively confident nod. “If there are no others involved, we were clearly invited as a spectacle—a passing amusement, just as we were for most of the people in this… Delphasium.”

“Is that really problematic?” Argrave questioned. “I can trust that they won’t force us to do anything: Mistress Tatia won’t do anything to threaten her peace. A few laughs, a few jeers… and it isn’t as though we can’t embarrass them in turn.”

Anneliese crossed her arms. “I know what I saw. And those that this Mistress Tatia thinks less of are sitting outside the walls, no food or drink.”

Argrave nodded. “I see your point. But… harsh as it is to say, those people refuse to bend… and so they break.” Argrave held his hands out as though it were a pity and shook his head. “I’m willing to be flexible to get what I need—I’ll work in the system instead of struggling to exist without it. So, unless either of you two disagree, I think we have no reason to refuse.”

Both stood around, considering his words without making any final decisions.

“Come now,” Argrave encouraged. “We have little else to do besides wait out the storm, reading books. We’ll have plenty of that to do in the times leading up to the feast, and plenty more to do after.”

Galamon soon joined

“Then it’s settled. Let’s—"

Garm asked. “You don’t

him. “That’s

about

think that you would be

it so I can see outside, at least?” he looked up at Argrave. “I do not wish to endure the monotony of staring at a wall,

seemed pitiable in that moment, and

#####

black leather gear as best he could, and the three of them walked to the palatial estate of Mistress Tatia. The rest of the city was quite decadent and grand, like a pearl amidst the desert, yet her estate was doubly so—giant, made of marble, and with a grand tower looming behind it, standing as a beacon for travelers. Its fence and gate were made

giving one the impression they were

all of this rock?”

it’s imported, if I remember

an ordeal, to haul rocks across

I guess,”

arms. “I worry for Garm,

someone will break in? That… could be a problem,

not in that way.” She waved her hand at him. “He acts like he has come to terms

it pretty well, then,” Argrave

was crying,”

turned to look at him.

“When you

but widen his eyes in surprise, while Anneliese nodded,

That is pretty

winning allies…” Anneliese looked at Argrave, shrugging. “Garm would

his position on this matter very clear—if

things personally like that,” Anneliese refuted. “And I cannot think that, alone, is why you dislike him. It takes much for you to dislike someone. The

him?” Argrave repeated. “Why would you…” he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. “Well, fine. Sure. I don’t exactly trust that he has my back.

to the gate of

you think I dislike him, then?” he asked

One—you have told us you know absolutely nothing about him, and that disquiets you. Two—you see yourself reflected in

should be a body?” Argrave questioned. “What do you mean by that, exactly? What do the two of us have in common? He and Galamon have more in common—they both watch other people eat, unable to do