Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave opened the door to the bottom floor of the inn, expecting to find it empty. Instead, Magister Vasilisa sat in an otherwise empty dining area, a great many tankards before her. Argrave was taken aback for a bit, and doubly so when he saw the blonde woman staring at him with clear and focused eyes. She certainly wasn’t drunk.

Anneliese and Galamon entered behind Argrave, the two of them taking in the sight much the same as he had. There were few other sources of dread so intense as being caught returning after sneaking out. Nonetheless, Argrave remained calm and kept his facial expressions under lock and key.

“Have a seat, take a drink,” Vasilisa commanded. She snapped her fingers, and a ward surrounded the room so that no noise would escape. As ever, her magic needed no matrix to cast—a peculiarity unique to her, he knew.

Argrave stepped within. “Vasilisa, I—”

“Have a seat,” she picked up a tankard and set it down loudly. “And take a drink.”

Argrave shifted his balance on his feet a few times as he thought about his options. Then, he pulled back the chair and sat. He sized up the liquid on the table, grabbed the tankard, and tipped it back. It was a potent, sharp brew—he’d been expecting something earthy like a beer or ale, but it tasted more like alcohol designed for nothing more than to make one drunk. He might as well drink paint thinner if he wanted a similar experience.

“That…” Argrave set down the empty bottle, mouth contorting involuntarily into a grimace. “…is very foul.”

Across, Vasilisa sipped at her own drink leisurely. She showed no such displeasure. Argrave wondered if she’d chosen a different drink.

“Have another,” she prompted, pushing a new tankard over by his hands.

Argrave sighed. He wish he had a cherry or something nearby to mitigate some of the discomfort, yet he obediently took the drink and drained it as quickly as he could. Once it was done, he set it down.

“We found Magisters Vera and Hegazar,” Argrave began. “You were rather asleep, so we took the courtesy of confirming their presence.”

“Took you three hours,” Vasilisa nodded, her eyes seeming especially sharp at present.

Argrave furrowed his brows. He was about to play innocent, yet then Anneliese interjected, “You met with the man who is hunting Vulras.”

Argrave cast a glance to her as she pulled a seat up beside him, completely perplexed how she had come to that conclusion. Having a near-supernatural empathy was one thing, but that claim—if indeed it was true—was far beyond. It was virtually mind reading.

hardened in not a few moments. “My niece has allied with him. They thought to inform me I was keeping a vampire in my company. If you should put that forward as accusation, you cannot say I am being dishonest. I question if you

she had made it. Yet the Magister’s words did strike a chord with him. Their journey, brief though it was, had lent Vasilisa a newfound respectability in Argrave’s eyes. He didn’t enjoy lying

still… you can’t forget the lessons

“If you want honesty,

to him. “Are you sure that’s

Vasilisa. I’m tired of keeping things hidden from her. This whole time, she’s been risking things time and time again. She showed us to her city, her sister. She exposed her house’s debt. She trusted us in all our endeavors here in First Hope. She

stirred in her seat. “…it’s not my city. Quadreign belongs to

Anneliese, what

To her, and only her, I believe

then turned to a still-perplexed Vasilisa. “Alright. You two—give

#####

slowly tear away with an uncomfortable noise. Soon enough, it was rather obvious that the long

recently cut black hair of a particular dark shade revealed itself… and distinctly human ears just beneath them. For a moment, she didn’t know what to

was ridiculous. What was she missing? Still, no matter how she tried to dismiss the thought, more and more evidence came creeping in. The moment before she left Relize, the king had allegedly returned to the city and gone into hiding. He

abandoned his army on the edge of war to head to the north? Why? For what purpose? Moreover, her thoughts wandered back to the things she had said on the journey. She’d thought Silvaden neutral in the conflict in Vasquer, and

she said them about him? What had she said while

“Is your liquor that strong? Do I look that much handsomer with black hair? Or… and this

do need to explain yourself. I

at all times. We didn’t really know what he wanted. On top of that, there was the north—largely neutral, extremely valuable in terms of magic potential, and with the flame of your House

you were doing, travelling with a Magister under the guise of a snow elf, and coming here?” Vasilisa placed both her arms on the

utterly ignorant I am of the matter.” Argrave leaned in. “But the matter with your house’s flame? A cure for Galamon’s vampirism? That’s his name, by the way…” Argrave glanced off to the side where the hulking elf stood. “Those two

said under her breath, still

laughed. “No, no,” he shook his head. “He’s… a

man called Galamon, and he gave her

is swimming,”

Argrave said. “But from the beginning, I never bore you or your house any ill-will. I just wanted