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 your game? What do you want from me?” she asked,

firmly, “We’ve told you from

vague warnings to build my trust… treat me kindly to curry favor… reveal secrets to establish usefulness and reliability… I cannot afford to

putting all the obfuscation to bed. I just need you to follow along a little longer. After,

was wearing her prosthetic feet. “I appreciate your gift, Argrave, both of this jewelry

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

the doorway in shock, trying to

realizes she left her own bedroom,” he mused. “Wonder

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

forehead in confusion. He feared chasing after her might exacerbate the issue—perhaps when she discovered Vasquer

to his feet and grabbed Argrave’s shoulder. “Hey. This time, destroy a smaller tower,” he

“That...! Anneliese? Starsparrow,” he said, scrambling to

Let him go,” Galamon

at Galamon. “Why in the world would

to

would agree,” Anneliese

of them, completely lost. Galamon picked up the fallen chair and corrected

#####

Durran shouted, rushing

from right to left with tightly clenched teeth. She stopped and

slower and breathing heavily as he stopped

and turned, resuming walking down the path. Her prostheses clicked out in angry haste against the stone pathway. Durran rushed

you’re going, and you know it,” Durran

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

scared you’ll get hurt—well, not physically. You’re afraid

angrily. “Don’t speak such shallow, rehearsed lines intended to enchant some feisty barmaid with father issues. You speak to a person who was blind not days ago,” she said, temper flaring. “Have you any idea what that is like? Every person that comes

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 to be vulnerable?’ My existence was vulnerability itself. I have courted it for over a decade now,” she finished, voice a tight

on his feet. “Did people do those things to you,

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

Durran questioned.

she said with a droll anger. “So step aside,

You can’t go back. Like you said, gifts can be the most expensive

her fingers, prying free the bronze claw rings. She collected them in her hand, then removed

“I think that puts an

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

struggled vainly to get up, but her position was quite awkward. After a time of

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 with a snap, all her effort was undone, and

want some help?” Durran