Jackal Among Snakes

Elenore sat in her study, working hard in silence… or near silence, as she discovered. Her eyes slowly raised up and her gaze fixed on a clock on the wall. Its pendulum waved back and forth, ticking as it reached certain points. It seemed the only active thing in this room frozen in time. As it waved, the second hand moved ever onward—tick, tock, she listened to the clock.

Yet in her study, alone, the connections that she’d formed made the world around her move right along with the clock.

She felt Durran soaring through the sky, leading his men against gods with the blessings of Stout Heart Swan at his beck and call. Through wind and rain he tracked those who would claim the land of Berendar as their own. And through fire and storm he rode, cleaving through their meager claims to the lands of Vasquer and the Burnt Desert. Their spirits fed the dwarven instruments they bore, empowering Argrave’s forces day by day. Each day he endured as fiercely as the last, as constant as time.

But was it days, or seconds? Tick, tock, she listened to the clock.

Argrave walked through Blackgard, officiating the things that Elenore deemed necessary to happen. His tongue weaved in and out of conversation, bending egos like he could grasp them. Magisters and nobles walked up to him with a gut full of spite and grievance, but left with smiles and empty pockets. The places he walked upon seemed to sprout buildings—the Church of Law, the Bank of Blackgard, the House of Public Appeals…

Yet his other side, like a face beneath a mask of flesh, delighted in the joys of magic and power. With the Domain of Law strengthening his activities at every turn, he weaved incomprehensible script to his end, perfecting spells one after another. And on his mind was a looming figure he sought to surpass—though whether it was Mozzahr or Erlebnis, Elenore could not tell. On and on he worked, passing the days by.

As for Elenore? Tick, tock, she listened to the clock.

Galamon stood at the head of the three Veidimen officers, Grimalt, Bastel, and Rasten, following their lead into the army that had been made for him to command. He called upon the power of his goddess, Veid, granting those honorable souls beneath him strength equal to what he possessed. He walked like a commander and soldier both, learning names as he made one for himself. Galamon’s prowess as a leader, now with his god at his back, was undeniable. A sorely needed thing, too—it wasn’t long until they pressed into the underground, where the Ebon Cult would await.

But when had the time grown so short? Tick, tock, she listened to the clock.

Anneliese worked with Argrave in the day, giving wisdom by the handful when it was needed. In time, during their party’s search for a champion for Almazora and Rook, she naturally came to advise a large retinue of spellcasters. Teaching came naturally to her, and in only a few days, even Magisters deferred to her insight.

At night, Anneliese went to the Alchemist. No two meetings between them were the same, and she came to marvel at the power her Truesight offered. He role in the heist came to light, taking precedence over even her looming teacher. She accepted this role, bolstered by her curiosity. And as time passed, she grew into her position.

say that a week passed?

did not let time slip him by. In the day, he guarded Argrave, following the king around as he worked miracles with Law. In the night, he met with Melanie, paying little regard to her newfound noble title of Countess of the Low Way of the Rose as he beat her relentlessly. Elenore figured out it was meant to

from places that Orion could not see or react to. And he was utterly unable to catch her as she danced through reality, swinging chain and blade in an adept show of maneuverability. Her time as

Tick, tock, she

tools for dwarven metalworking Melanie had retrieved to the city and set their forges ablaze again. The spirits that Durran collected were poured into the forges, setting them ablaze with wondrous purple fire. Clang, clang, came the hammers, every bit as constant as the clock. The first batch of dwarven steel came free, taking the shape of

listened

was drawn from

as he entered.

quietly as she rose

alone no longer. Orion was the first to follow, being bodyguard to the king. Galamon and Anneliese followed right behind. Melanie and Durran were the last to join

end,” Argrave said, tapping her desk.

We’re prepared to confront the Ebon Cult,” Elenore answered, not believing these words came from her mouth. “What about the Alchemist’s end

and how each god we allied has decided to play their role. We will have no trouble breaching Erlebnis’ realm, I’m certain. The uncertainty lies primarily in the before and after—namely, in Mozzahr, and in what Erlebnis has

all of you will confront

was, I came before Erlebnis begging for power. But nobody ever asked him to do what he did in the Bloodwoods. And so, let’s see the mettle

######

voice muffled behind her lifelike purple owl mask. “King

been posted randomly throughout the underground, but by consequence came into the hands of the cult rather quickly. Though some in the Ebon Cult thought this communication was a sign of weakness on both sides, Mozzahr allowed Mial to persist in this strategy. And though it had taken an inordinately

her own, now, hiding her

on what he does,” Mial said. “My father merely sought an opportunity to gain an advantage in the inevitable war. If Argrave comes and fights, he wins. If Argrave comes and genuinely parleys, father will give