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.

to inform me I was keeping a vampire in my company. If you should put that forward as accusation, you cannot say

brief though it was, had lent Vasilisa a newfound respectability in Argrave’s eyes. He didn’t enjoy lying to her. It had a necessity to it, though. And revealing

lessons you’ve

want honesty, I’m prepared to give

him. “Are you sure

“I like 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

seat. “…it’s not my city.

what do you

To her, and only her, I

Vasilisa. “Alright. You two—give me a hand, would

#####

pulled at it gingerly, and she saw the white slowly tear away with an uncomfortable noise. Soon enough, it was rather obvious that the long mane of white hair was a wig. She had seen their like before in the distant past, though mostly

For a moment, she didn’t know what to think. The more she stared, though, the more another face came to mind. If she removed the eyes… elongated the hair a

in. The moment before she left Relize, the king had allegedly returned to the city and gone into hiding. He was rumored to have wed

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 so she’d spoken freely… what

to mind—craven, coward, opportunist. Had she said them about him? What had

that much handsomer with black hair? Or… and this is probably the most

do need to explain yourself. I think

time matted beneath the wig. “Magister Traugott was an unpredictable element. We don’t really have the long-term support needed to defend against him 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

under the guise of a snow

an army into battle, considering how 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 coming to grips

shook his head. “He’s… a very good friend, and

at the man called Galamon, and he gave her a slight dip

swimming,” Vasilisa

bore you or your house any ill-will. I just