Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave turned his head to Onychinusa, placing both of his hands upon his hips. She looked up at him, perhaps already knowing what it was he was going to ask.

“Would you be willing to help them?”

The unwrinkled hag looked bitter, and her hands fidgeted as she grappled with the idea. Eventually, Onychinusa’s voice came with resignation, “The Lord sent me to help you.”

Argrave wasn’t fully pleased with that answer, but it was acceptable. He looked back up to the dryads. Instead of just their faces peeking beyond the roots, some of them had emerged fully, sitting on roots and playing childish games with each other. They wore dresses and tiaras of interlocked leaves. The green-skinned creatures seemed to be princesses of the woods. Seeing them conjured memories of Drezki the Coward, Silvic’s servant in the wetlands.

“My friend here can help you if you want her help,” Argrave declared.

The dryads stopped playing, and some of them cheered upon hearing that. The voices came so quickly it was difficult to distinguish them.

“However, if you want her help... she wants you to give some, not all, of your mist to these little guys.” Argrave picked up one of the Brumesingers by the scruff of its neck and raised it up into the air. “Can that be done?”

The place grew still, and the dryads whispered between each other. Finally, one of them descended to the ground, while others came to stand beside Onychinusa, trying to hold her hand.

“Not our choice. Mommy has the mist. We borrow it. But mommy likes us. We can try and persuade!” the dryad promised innocently.

“If it helps, you can tell your mother that we’re going to get rid of the mandragora.” He paused. “Actually, I’d like to tell her myself, once the task is done.”

“The mandragora? It’ll die? But what about its friends? The big squirmy things that eat everything are trying to get married to it!”

Argrave narrowed his eyes, thinking. Squirmy things... she must be talking about the Yateveos. I was wondering why I’d seen none of them. Perhaps they came here after the disturbance of the roots.

“I can get rid of them. But you have to be extra positive when you talk to your mommy,” he said, pointing his finger.

“Okay!” the dryad answered, then looked back. “Old lady, come outside! Big bastard gave you to us.”

Argrave chuckled after being called as such, then looked at where Onychinusa avoided the touch of the dryads. Anneliese caught onto Argrave’s thoughts, for she raised her hand and volunteered, “I’ll go with her, Argrave. The mandragora, will it pose any problems...?”

"No," Argrave said dismissively, casting a spell to make his Brumesingers follow her. They bounded into her arms eagerly, docile and obedient before her. “I’ve got Orion, you forget,” Argrave said, patting his brother’s worn golden armor. The man jumped, as he was lost observing the dryads. “And Myriarch Batbayar will come, too. But the books... best give them here.”

them from her pack and handed them off as the Brumesingers turned into butter in

let the kids trick you,” Argrave

after placing the books in his pack, but Batbayar was staring at him. “Perhaps you ought to explain this ‘sister’ of your queen’s.

pack over his shoulder, then nodded. “Sure, but...

Batbayar repeated

hands out. “Of course.

#####

did not explain things

their journey deeper into the underground ruins, all the myriarch came to know was that Onychinusa was the last of the ancient elves. Argrave was especially conscious of the fact he deliberately deceived an ally for convenience after Dimocles called him out for it. Still, just because he was aware of it didn’t mean he was going to stop. He didn’t have a problem,

endured the chatter of the dryads. In time their mocking and teasing faded away, taking all of the warmth from these cold stone ruins. All outside light dimmed, and the only thing that illuminated their path was Argrave’s spell. The building wound downward in a long, prolonged spiral. There were branching rooms at points, and

encountered the first Yettle fairly deep in. When it fell upon the light, it looked like a goblin who’d had a losing argument with a thorn bush. Its giant eyes widened terribly wide and it scurried away. Orion chased

when next they saw them,

upon them, they scrambled back like monkeys, swinging vine whips or crude implements of wood that looked like pickaxes. Orion merely raised his foot up and slammed it upon the ground, calling upon one of his myriad blessings still with him to send out

to crush an opponent. Orion ended

was done, Argrave cautiously

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

slam them against

gave a

his shoulders. “I behaved

to use. The weapon proved to be quite effective, speedily clearing a path as the winding spiral descent leveled off. The end was a large room functioning as an entryway that mirrored the courtyard they’d seen outside—four pillars, four monuments. At the end,

it wasn’t. Indeed, this area was illuminated well enough that Argrave could see into the room somewhat. What he saw

to see a wide-open cavern, two waterfalls on each corner that fed a converging stream supported by abundant and beautiful plant life. This stream then wrapped around a serene building, its serenity disturbed by a mandragora taking root just at its entrance. This place had been the

a stump, the top of which had a dozen heads that resembled venus fly traps. They were clearly intelligent, moving quickly and at will. It was here, just as he remembered

rest was not

way into the cavern. At the back, the two waterfalls fed only an endless abyss. The mandragora stood atop the only remaining solid land, supporting a lone

crawled up the base of these roots, eating away with their disgusting mouths. The mandragora bit at it, but its were of

whispered, “Given how white you’ve

head. “Not a

into the abyss... and looking down into the hole, Argrave