Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 259

“What, precisely, do you experience when you use the bronze jewelry? I have heard you use the word ‘see.’ Is it similar to sight, or wholly different?” Anneliese asked Elenore.

Elenore observed the simply dressed snow elf across from her. Anneliese, just as Argrave, wore exotic, hardy gray leathers with protective enchantments along all its length—duster, pants, and shirt all. They had another black set of lighter make designed for travel in the Burnt Desert. Allegedly, the fact they matched was coincidental—Elenore wasn’t so sure.

The woman was rather like an unending river of questions. Upon examining the ostentatious, puffy way in which the people of Relize dressed, she had questioned Elenore of how such a thing came to be. She inquired about construction, ship craftsmanship in Vasquer, the size of the sea Relize neighbored, and now it had come to Elenore. Anneliese asked her questions with an open-minded curiosity that came without judgement, so it was difficult to brush them off.

“You may understand it as a sphere of perception around me,” Elenore described briefly.

She was not averse to answering questions—there was some time before the meeting with the Dandalan would come. They waited within the warehouse a fair distance from the meeting place in a private area so as to talk without fear of distraction. They had been amply cautious in setting this up, and now they merely needed to wait. Elenore wished to be able to receive firsthand reports from Anneliese as she observed things… among some other motives.

“I recall you mentioning being able to observe something hidden within a box without opening it,” Anneliese continued, amber eyes veritably glowing.

Elenore nodded.

The elven woman leaned a bit closer. “Does this extend past protective enchantments? Safes, vault, et cetera? Could you view inside those chests you brought to the warehouse, for instance?”

“Magic interferes, but does not block entirely,” Elenore shook her head.

“Can you perceive my insides? What I have in my pockets?”

Elenore crossed her arms. “Yes, I can. Why did you not try these things out when Argrave had possession of them?”

Anneliese leaned back against the warehouse’s wall, bringing one hand to her long white hair. Elenore observed her fingers move very adroitly, forming a braid. “I wish I had.”

Much of Elenore’s focus was devoted to Anneliese’s fingers as she braided. It was so practiced as to be habitual—Anneliese seemed capable of doing it in her sleep.

“You watch me braid, no?” Anneliese cut in.

Elenore, surprised, cocked her head back. “I… I was, yes.”

“I knew it,” she smiled, pleased with herself. “Even despite your unusual manner of sight—if it can even be called so—the face retains certain habits.”

Elenore didn’t know what to make of that, but she found herself smiling back. After a time, she found her own curiosity rising. “Why do you keep your hair long? It must be a hindrance.”

“Argrave likes it,” she responded simply. “I do, too. But it’s impractical, I agree.”

“He asked you to keep it like that?” Elenore tilted her head.

I merely know,” Anneliese shook

trust Argrave more than she thought herself capable, yet the fact

tried to kill Argrave the

to attention, feeling like her mind

battlefield. I could tell at once something was amiss—he felt no hostility towards me. He recognized who I was. He wished desperately for peace. Nevertheless, I fired a spell at him with the intent to kill.

her finger atop the braid she’d made—it was two feet long, by this point—and unwound it all with a whisk of her

it? Does it haunt

I brought it up with him. He had

was the last conclusion to things she thought

“Has he ever… been betrayed, or at least felt

Durran’s presence was… not without its issues. I would like to tell

“Why? Is there something I should know? I received reports of Veiden military strength

it is difficult at times to be

Elenore gave a slow and

am glad of it,” Anneliese clapped her

the reason we came here in the first place,” Elenore waved her hand to caution Anneliese. “This meeting with the Dandalans

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an open door, passing by a servant who gave her a light curtsy. Anneliese thought the mercenary looked a lot smaller without the gargantuan sword she carried around. Anneliese viewed the

match. The brim of his blue hat was remarkably even wider than Melanie’s. He wore flamboyant clothes that puffed up on the sleeves and pants, varied red and blue stripes

to stand opposite the Dandalan man, who himself stood just before a table. Chairs

the man began, “Though I cannot speak

to lightly peck Melanie’s head,

trap awaits?” the mercenary

he said with an indignant

Melanie continue once

do you have a name?” Melanie

am the twenty-seventh son of my father, Ansgar,” the man flourished his

one hand on the table, leaning back into the cushioned seat casually. “Whole thing is a bit long. I’ll call

one fluent motion. He stared Melanie

is to say, myself and my siblings.” Ansgar inhaled and let a silence hang. “Though

hands. She pulled out a piece of paper and slid it

us for more,” Melanie said

him, then looked back up to Melanie. A smile slowly

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