Jackal Among Snakes

“You want to give us a ride?” Argrave questioned Durran.

“I do,” Durran nodded, spinning his wyvern scale helmet about in his hands. Up close, the armor was quite impressive—a coat of gray lamellar wyvern scales stretching down to the knees, held together with studs of what looked to be brass. His glaive was made of wyvern bone. It was done in the style of the southron elves. All-in-all, impressively armed.

Argrave crossed his arms. “Why?”

“You probably saved me from Titus,” Durran answered at once. “I owe you a debt.”

“I’d expect you to default on the first payment of any debt you got,” Argrave shook his head. “And it’s not ‘probably.’ I did save you from Titus.”

Durran laughed. “You act like you know so much about me. It’s a bit perplexing.”

Argrave stared at Durran. The man was obviously in better spirits—he couldn’t help but spare a glance at Garm.

“I know an uncomfortable amount about you,” Argrave nodded. “Your favorite color is gray… particularly when supported with burgundy.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m coming,” Durran suggested.

“Because your favorite color—”

“No, because you know so much about me,” Durran interrupted.

“There is something I don’t know,” Argrave confessed. “Your father. You said he was dying?”

“Well… he improved in time to dish out some spiteful, life-ruining nonsense, but yeah,” Durran nodded.

Argrave looked to Anneliese, and she nodded, confirming he was being honest. Argrave turned away. Did he just catch an illness randomly? It’s certainly possible… but it could be foul play, too. Argrave juggled the idea, but then realized, Does it really matter, now?

“How in the world do you know so much about me while being ignorant of common knowledge within the tribe?” Durran stepped forth back into Argrave’s sight.

“For reasons you couldn’t comprehend or codify,” Argrave snapped back to attention. “Listen… the place we’re going is very out-of-the-way.”

“That’s fine. It’ll be nice to have a last long voyage with my girl,” Durran looked to where his wyvern was. Some of the southron elf children played with the creature cautiously. “She isn’t mine. She’s the tribe’s. She’ll go back to the tribe when I set her loose. She’s still young, and she needs to have children. Not many females left living after the battle.”

“Finders, keepers, maybe?” Argrave suggested.

Durran was confused for a second, but he placed the meaning after a time and laughed lightly. “She’s a social one. She won’t last long away from the others.”

Argrave sighed. “Maybe you can get another, then, bring it too. I’ll take it.”

watching you try and fly,” Durran turned his head back. “But you still never

over to Garm. “Ought to have him talk to people more,” he noted. “Happy to accept free transportation. I’ll need to get things together, secure them on the

#####

above endless blackness. They were only a few hours past sunrise, and the suns had not yet come over some distant mountains,

seen in any direction, even from their significant height. To be lost in this place was a death sentence, it seemed—nothing lived here. Even the

secluded to do me

you now, I don’t think seclusion would

great wyvern continued to glide onwards, Argrave confidently directing Durran where he knew to go. He used the mountains and the compass as his guide. Beside him, he saw Anneliese struggling

should cut it. Given how much

stated. “It looks too good to cut.

nothing in response. Argrave turned his

goal, he finally felt the nervousness set in. He had been obsessively checking everything to be sure that nothing was amiss—the Wraith’s Heart was fine, the Amaranthine Heart still functioned, the

becoming Black Blooded as Argrave had a thousand times more weight than it had in ‘Heroes of Berendar.’ Failure and success both promised

The Alchemist might be temperamental… but he would be as eager to perform this surgery as Argrave would be to receive it. Such was his nature. Argrave was

shift in the constant sand dunes and tapped Durran’s shoulder. “There!” he pointed.

shades of black?” Durran questioned, and Argrave nodded. “No, those are just quicksand pits.

spot, Durran,” Argrave

his head back, staring Argrave down, but then eventually swallowed and nodded. As they neared the pits of quicksand, the wyvern started to slowly descended, spurred downwards by its rider. They circled around, and Durran eventually landed atop a dune of sand

breathed out, then stepped off the wyverns. His legs, weak from the ride, collapsed beneath him, and he slid down the dune a bit in a sitting position. His Brumesingers abandoned him immediately, jumping to safety. Once Argrave came to a stop, he overlooked a vast plain of

the center of one of

Apparently, they had much to eat here—plenty of souls drifting about, ready for feasting. Anneliese stepped up to Argrave, her own fox held in her hands. It quickly jumped down from her arms and watched the pits ahead, eating souls in silence

“Desolate,” Anneliese noted.

“Depressing,” Galamon confirmed.

word, then sighed. “Now I’m

path you mentioned?” Durran walked up, too, still holding his wyvern’s

pointed one out. “I’ve taken this path too many times to

jump

thought you wanted to give a

still want answers,” Durran shook his head. “If I have to tag along until I get them, so

what Garm had said to the man—it had to be something related to that. Argrave wished to simply ask, but he feared

not when he was at the cusp of becoming Black Blooded. Argrave liked Durran. He wouldn’t mind having him

measure of guilt. He felt paranoid. He wasn’t about to let guilt

follow.” Argrave rose to his feet with a grunt. “But maybe I’m just a madman about to jump into quicksand.

insanity are two sides of the same coin,” Garm commented. “Fortunately, you’re

Garm has volunteered to enter first,” Argrave said with a bitter smile as he walked back

it from the wyvern’s back, Durran walked

cautiously. “You’re just going to… jump in? I mean, the thing probably isn’t deep enough to even take you. You’ll just get stuck. What is it you’re expecting to

path below,”