Jackal Among Snakes

“What does it actually mean, for Sandelabara—or whatever the hell this energy is—to be below Vysenn?” Argrave asked the Alchemist. They had once again returned to Therapont’s residence, but rather than remain within the cramped room that they had slept, they instead occupied one of the open mushroom gardens in the estate. No sound escaped the ward surrounding them.

The Alchemist gazed out across organized plots of luminous shrooms as a mouth on the back of his head explained, “I can vaguely map what exists beneath the earth with elemental earth magic. With it, I deduced that this energy persists in a chamber deep within a huge sea of magma. It is a giant pocket of superheated metals, of which thin tendrils push against the crust of the earth, rising upward toward Vysenn. In time I suspect it will breach the surface, bathing it in lava.”

Argrave considered this in silence, and Melanie stared at him as though she expected an answer. Vysenn in Heroes of Berendar erupted the very day the calamity set foot on the earth. This was a geological event—even if there were suspicions that Gerechtigkeit had caused it, there was nothing that could be done. The tribes of Vysenn that didn’t perish outright were forcibly expelled out of the hilly region. And Gerechtigkeit’s ‘Sandelabara’ was there.

It was some small mercy that their only lead was so close. But the planet’s heat and pressure was something the dwarves had taken decades to tame—and this was with the coordinated effort of their entire nation. Interference beneath the crust of the earth was not something to be taken lightly. The only option that Argrave saw to reach it without intensive digging was heading through the top—namely, through the sacrificial pit that the tribals used to appease their god the volcano. And it was a sacrificial pit for a reason. A thick layer of molten rock greeted anyone unlucky or foolish enough to head inside.

“You said there’s a chamber there.” Argrave started pacing around the garden as he talked. “That means that something managed to persist there. The question is—what can we do to reach it?”

The Alchemist turned away from the mushrooms. “Send word to your sister. Occupy the volcano. Then, convince the dwarves, one way or another, to mobilize all of their artificers to craft something that can either persist in magma, extract it from the earth, or cool and mine it.”

Melanie whistled. “Given how hard it was to get them to agree to an alliance to fight against the guy that wants to kill us all, I can’t imagine you can coax them from their holes all the way to a nearly-active volcano very easily.”

“Thank you for the encouragement,” Argrave glanced at her harshly, and she laughed. “You’re not wrong though. Good lord… talk about a nightmare.”

“I can help.” The Alchemist stepped up to Argrave. “I’ll capture a dwarf alive, disassemble him, and create chimeras using that knowledge. We can use these chimeras to infiltrate their society in vital places, and when the time comes, they’ll be ready. Invasion or diplomacy, they’ll be ready.”

“What?” Argrave felt extreme whiplash, and even though he knew it was pointless he couldn’t help but look around to be sure that none heard. “Invasion? That’s not even on the table.”

Gerechtigkeit perishes before more cycles, the number of lives saved is uncountable. A few along the way matters very little

to… one, kill and enslave a lot of people, then extract skilled labor from them, or two, convince them peaceably

in a foreign land of dubious trustworthiness. On top of that, you ask to employ the secret technology that has allowed them to defend from all invaders for

He doubted he was capable of doing that, either, but he didn’t like to

idea came, Argrave looked up. “How

hands. “As well as

might not be feasible to get the dwarves to help us with Vysenn… but if we have one of your chimeras infiltrate

just going to let any dwarf work on it. They’ve got a detailed bureaucracy with records of people, names of every citizen, and now more than ever they’ll be on-edge about their secrets. If this mystery dwarf stitched together with string

they abandoned? There are hundreds of thousands of people in this city, Mundi, but its founder Alexander built it to accommodate millions. They do not lack for space, for food, for water… they want

his lip, lost in thought. “Maybe I can’t persuade five hundred senators… but I think I can persuade

these dwarves will

you’ve been locked up for centuries. Wouldn’t you like to outside, go exploring? All I need to do is give them a little push, give that wanderlust the one spark it needs to become a flame. Fuel’s been building up for years down here.” He smiled, standing up off the rail. “I won’t need to be doing any agitation. These people are elected, Melanie. They have to worry about what people say, what people hear. And there’s a convenient little gallery sitting

above at the marble dome, where lava surged from pipes down into facilities throughout the city. “Your confidence borders on

Melanie hefted her

so confident I’m planning on calling in some cavalry. We’ve

excited. Argrave got the impression she liked

undid his ward to allow a messenger to pass by. A servant bid them to join

Therapont waved him in. “I have some very important news. As it turns out, Dario has absolutely coincidentally completed his forging specifications for dwarven metal. He intends to present it to the dwarven senate. In return, he’ll be named our people’s friend, and given the title of Munificent.” He pointed one of his thick fingers at Argrave. “Some people might get cold