Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave planted his foot down and crested over the top of a hill he’d travelled once before. The snow had melted a little more on their return, and the pine trees seemed a little more robust. Another detail was far more striking—namely, the moving hands of the clocktower overlooking the palace in Quadreign.

Vasilisa caught up with Argrave. The moment her eyes fell where his did, her brain worked to compute the implications. To cement her realization, Argrave commented, “Seems the flame is already doing its work. The people must be pleased.”

The Magister muttered something incomprehensible, words mashed together in her excitement, and then she took off towards the city isolated in the valley.

As Anneliese crested the hill next, she called out to Vasilisa in concern, “Watch your footing.”

Svetlana was the next to come, then Ganbaatar. Svetlana, another member of House Quadreign, had much the same reaction as her aunt, and set off back towards the city with the same disbelieving haste. They were both like treasure hunters that had finally found what they’d been hunting for all these years.

Galamon was the last to come—not because he was the slowest, but because he generally held the back of the line. Argrave stared at him as he came to stand. He was no expert on emotions as Anneliese was, but the man seemed to be in a strange state. Forget jubilation, relief—Galamon appeared to be in a state of frozen grief, of emptiness. It deeply worried Argrave.

“Anne,” Argrave called out, turning his head back to the city. “Diana of Quadreign is going to be cured. Unlike her sister… I think she’ll want more concrete terms of vassalage. We ought to talk about that, among other important things. I learned a lot from the Magister… I hope you did, too. We ought to discuss our findings.”

Anneliese glanced at Argrave as he looked over the valley city, then gave a knowing nod. “That is prudent.”

“Good. Let’s head down, get settled.” Argrave looked at Ganbaatar and inquired, “What’s your plan?”

“To remain with the…” Ganbaatar trailed off, realizing he couldn’t call him a vampire anymore. “To observe Galamon a while longer. I think Svetlana will accommodate me.”

“I hope so,” Argrave nodded, then set off down into the valley. “Even if she doesn’t… sleeping on the streets might not be so bad anymore. The heat’s back on.”

#####

Vasilisa tossed open the poorly maintained iron gates of the palace of Quadreign and stormed inside. The steward Ferrel stood in the courtyard as he did last time, but stepped towards the returning Magister with an urgency to him.

“The flame,” Vasilisa called out. “Is it there?”

The old Ferrel nodded intently to his words as he said, “Yes it is, lady Vasilisa. It reappeared one morning, like a trail of fire across the sky… I thought it was some sort of rift in the world itself, yet it flowed back into the old fire basin! Does this mean…?” he looked nervous and excited in equal measure. “I… everyone was cheering, but I feared to act… I feared…” his words faltered as though he had so many fears he did not know where to begin.

Vasilisa took a deep breath of exuberant triumph and exhaled. “Fear no longer. Get Diana at once, lead her down. I will go ahead and confirm things… and then… Ferrel…” she closed her eyes. “And then, House Quadreign can repay everyone’s steadfastness.”

The old steward’s eyes lit up with a fire of his own, and he gave a steady, certain nod. “I will speak to the baroness.”

within. As he walked into the confines of the tunnel heading deep within the earth, she slowed her pace slightly to breathe through her nose. And she smelled the sour-sweet tang of vinegar just as

was empty no longer. The flame, more vibrant than she could ever remember it being, persisted defiantly deep in this chamber. All of the runes inscribed in the stone

forward, holding her hand out to the flame. Her heart was beating quickly as she recognized it remained exactly as it had. Something scraped behind her, and she

flame, her blue eyes lit up like the midday sky and

what this looked like,” Diana

stumbled—by then, Vasilisa was nearby to catch her. “Easy,” the Magister cautioned her, holding her by her arms. “Ferrel…

me… at a bad time. I’m just…

the last bad time,” Vasilisa said, helping her older sister walk forward. “Come. We must burn

and Vasilisa walked into the flame, the younger supporting the older. Though the flame seemed to do nothing… after a time, it was as though the black flame had found both kindling and fuel within their bodies. The flame within burned brightly,

her rose ever higher. Her fingers clenched tightly around Vasilisa’s arms as she put more and more of her weight upon her. She seemed to become a bright

on her face. Though the flame was said to burn through stress and anxiety, Vasilisa questioned if that could truly be

of footsteps resounded throughout the old fire basin. Vasilisa looked up for a new

mage called out, short

carry your mother alone. I think it will be some hours

#####

most like to return to the baroness,” the steward,

so at once. We

further encouragement to leave. Once he did, Argrave looked around at the familiar guest house they’d

the room. “Let’s take the chance to talk. I imagine it’ll be some hours before things

a ward. While staring at the

him steadily. “You say that like he

him.” Argrave rubbed his chin. “I wanted to help him while keeping his edge over our foes, but did I… make a mistake, pursuing this line

jolt, when the time comes—and it will, considering we

are often brittle,” Argrave pointed out. “And they

Her snide comment broke the tension and Argrave chuckled. As he did,

he admitted, taking a moment to recompose himself. “But on

the vassalage?” Anneliese

so,” Argrave nodded. “Diana… she doesn’t know us as Vasilisa does, and she’ll be able to think

we still healed her,” Anneliese

for the people of the north. She’ll know that Vasilisa helped us as much as we helped Quadreign.” Argrave rolled his shoulders and