Jackal Among Snakes

“Things were as you claimed,” Elenore told Argrave, her hands entwined as they laid across the table before her. In the past few days, she had integrated the bronze jewelry into her movements, and now already had a practiced grace even with the ungainly objects on her fingers and wrists.

“I see,” Argrave said nonchalantly, smiling at Anneliese as she filled his cup with tea.

“Rancor is heavily involved in human trafficking. Captured victims never left the city, though, so it was difficult to monitor. On top of that, they were the primary exporters of a vicious alchemical drug. These were both matters I was looking into already… they were attracting undue attention from authorities, disrupting things.” Elenore tapped her fingers against the table. “Yet you gave me their source directly. Rancor is being dealt with as we speak, with Ruleo heading things per your recommendation. I appreciate you placing him in debt to me. Now, I’d like to know why you asked me to clear my schedule today.”

Argrave sipped the tea at once, savoring the warmth in the cold winter morning. He never liked fruity teas like this one, but the warmth itself was nice. “I think Durran told you,” he said as he set the cup down, staring Elenore in the face.

“I will speak to someone old,” Elenore nodded. “As though that explains anything at all.”

“Not just that,” Durran chimed in. “Someone only you two can communicate with,” his fingers waved between the two of them.

Argrave placed his elbows on the table as he leaned in. “Vasquer. What do you actually know about her?”

Elenore frowned. “Don’t launch into a story to defle—”

“The snake, not the kingdom,” Argrave held his hand out to interrupt. “She fought alongside Felipe I. Why? For what purpose? What happened afterwards? It’s just a hole in the histories.”

Elenore’s brows rose, and she took a deep breath. “You mean to say with these allusions… Rancor houses Vasquer itself?”

“Yes,” Argrave nodded. “The majority of its upper-echelon members captured her, once. They’re vampires. A very old coven. Once your men deal with them, we’re going to talk to her. You’re going to get some answers. I’m going to confirm what I already know to be true.”

Elenore looked greatly disturbed. She turned her head to the side, then faced him again with conviction. “What happened to you?”

“Me?” Argrave placed his hands to his chest.

“Livia. Does that name mean anything to you?”

Caught off-guard by the non-sequitur, Argrave ran the name through his memory.

Elenore laughed as Argrave stayed silent. “That’s your mother’s name you’re struggling to remember. Or Argrave’s mother’s name, at least.”

Argrave frowned. He did recognize the name now, but it was too late—the milk had been spilled. Trying to salvage it, he said calmly, “She died when I was young.”

“Eight. She died when you were eight. You’re twenty, perhaps twenty-one now,” Elenore told him. “I’ve been looking into you, Argrave. People knew you here in Dirracha. But no one knows the person I speak to now,” she shook her head. “The profile is entirely different. Your character does not match.”

Argrave remained steadfast. “People change,” he suggested. “I was at the Order of the Gray Owl for two years.”

“Your heart is unnatural. Your eyes… I’ve observed Ruleo’s necromantic creations last he was here. Their eyes have the same color,” Elenore listed out. “Now you come to me with these unnatural knowings… you slip into the heart of this place without being challenged and tell me the secrets of Rancor as though you are a part of it.”

Argrave shook his head. “These are far-fetched conclusions, Elenore.”

is sound,” she disagreed. “What is your game? What do you want from

told you from the beginning. Argrave wants you as

to curry favor… reveal secrets to establish usefulness and reliability… I cannot afford to

just need you to follow along a little longer. After, I can divulge everything. I fear you won’t believe

this jewelry and of Rancor’s activities. However, I think this will be

felt battered by the volatile shift. “What?” he asked, though she

stood aside to let her pass. Argrave stared at the doorway in shock, trying to piece

the chair. “I wonder if she realizes she

Anneliese for guidance. “She was scared. Terrified,”

He feared chasing after her might exacerbate the issue—perhaps when she discovered Vasquer in Rancor’s base,

“Hey. This time, destroy

Durran had already left. “That...! Anneliese? Starsparrow,” he

Let him go,” Galamon

Galamon. “Why in the world would I do

stared at Argrave without any words to offer in answer. Flabbergasted, Argrave looked

Anneliese said

picked up the fallen chair

#####

Hey!” Durran shouted, rushing after

tightly clenched

stepping slower and breathing heavily as

her head and turned, resuming walking down the path. Her prostheses clicked out in angry haste against

and you know it,” Durran insisted,

stopped fully now that she was blocked. “What would you know

scared you’ll get hurt—well, not physically. You’re afraid of accepting anyone in, allowing yourself to be vulnerable,” Durran pointed

speak to a person who was blind not days ago,” she said, temper flaring. “Have you any idea what that is like? Every person

attack coming. They could set your hair aflame, or hurl boiling water at you, or any number of terrible things you might concoct. I sat alone in the unending sightlessness, waiting for the world to do as it pleased to me. ‘Allowing myself

shifted on his feet. “Did people do those things to you, set your hair aflame, the

hand, bronze bracelets clattering against each other. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. I got

through?” Durran questioned. “Other than yourself, I’m betting the answer

correct,” she said with a droll anger. “So step aside, and let

snapped back. “I’m afraid it’s too late. You can’t go back. Like you

her fingers, prying free the bronze claw rings. She collected them in her hand, then removed the bracelets, the necklace, the earrings… each and

“I think that

Perhaps he’d stepped aside, or perhaps she’d guessed wrong. She proceeded forth with unduly confident steps in blackness, trying her best to roughly maintain a straight line. Suddenly, a branch bumped her head and she ducked. Her prosthetic feet offered poor maneuverability, and she slid and fell. Her body turned in a manner she could not place, and before she knew

get up, but her position was quite awkward. After a time of struggle, a voice

and once she had a decent feel for them, approached the task smartly. She grabbed a low-hanging branch and started to pull herself up… yet

some help?” Durran asked