Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave felt that he had learned all he could about the time loop itself. The things that he had seen with [Minor Truesight], while lesser than what Anneliese might’ve picked out, still confirmed to him without a shadow of a doubt the truth of this endless repetition. And even more than that, he finally found a path to confirming some hidden things. If Sophia was the cause of the loop, and the Heralds were harnessing her power to kill all those that spoke of the prince, then she, herself, would most likely be untouched by it. In other words, she was his best source of information.

“I have to go now, Sophia.” Argrave took the lens and hid it away in his duster’s inside pocket. “We’ll see each other again. But before I go, can I ask you something?”

“Okay,” she nodded easily.

“You remember Mr. Butler? Bogart?” Argrave put his hands together. “I saved him. He’s the reason why everyone’s panicking, running about everywhere.”

Sophia went through uncountable emotions, and by the end of it all, only watched Argrave with her wide, uncertain red eyes.

“All that’s to say… your father doesn’t have power everywhere. I’m as much a king as he is, and I want to help you. But to do that, I have to understand things. Can you tell me about your brother?”

Sophia blinked her eyes and looked at the ground, then looked up suddenly in what looked like horrified revelation. “Then Sir Ghost… is King Charles? And you… you… came back from the dead to take revenge?”

Argrave smiled at her. “If that’s what you want, Sophia. But most of all… I want to help your brother, if I can—help him as I helped Bogart. And I think you’re the only one who can help me help him. Can you tell me his name? Can you tell me anything at all?”

Sophia played with her hands, and the hem of her red dress for a long time in quiet. Argrave waited patiently. “My big brother’s name is Griffin. He’s one hour older than me. He likes knights, swords, blueberries, and snow. He’s…” After she’d listed the mundane things, Argrave had little doubt that the more emotional memories were surfacing. What they did together, how they lived—their arguments, shared triumphs.

“He stopped daddy and the maids from punishing me when I made a mistake because I’m stupid,” she continued, suppressing her tears with practice a seven-year-old shouldn’t have. “And when daddy took us to the cellar, where those people were…” she started shivering badly. “Griffin did everything daddy wanted me to, because I couldn’t do it, because I’m a baby. Then, to punish me, daddy would leave me in the cells overnight, with all of the…” her eyes went distant, but Argrave got the image. Her father left her among the recently tortured—enduring their resentment, enduring the sight of their misery. To them, she was the daughter of the man that had tortured them. It would’ve been terrifying for anyone, let alone a small girl.

“My brother was going to be the best knight in the whole world, stronger than daddy, and he was going to make sure we never had to do anything we didn’t want to. But then the red knights came, a-a-and…” she trailed off as her shivering became more and more intense.

do my best to bring him back,

to reach for a pillow on the couch to offer her, but she fell onto his arm. He hesitated for a moment, but he felt if anyone deserved it, Sophia did. He held the broken girl carefully, even as his mind danced

power within Sophia. The looping of time, reconstructing herself and all else. And the very thing we came here for—Gerechtigkeit—has some connection to Sophia. I can’t very well ask the Heralds how they’re related to Gerechtigkeit, and I doubt Sophia knows anything. As for the Heralds… I don’t know how I’d find them, and given their power, I don’t know how I could compel

do was get his companions on the other side in their proper place, and they could both be freed without a doubt. He wasn’t quite sure what that freedom entailed for this microcosm, but surely anything

couldn’t deny he’d become somewhat personally attached to the idea. Sophia, though born a princess, never truly had any adult to rely on. To be punished physically for the smallest infractions, to be exposed to the most heinous crimes of humanity, to have her mother killed by her own

spent a good deal of time crying. “I’m sorry, Sir Ghost. I-I—" she began to stammer,

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the world right now, and I’ll figure things out. So…” Argrave

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plans. It bothered him that he’d need to rewrite this every time he returned to the beginning of the loop, but at the same time, he did truly have all the time in the world. Or at the

messages to his companions. And once he

seconds for those he’d left behind, but for Argrave, every loop took three hours. A single minute for them was thirty-six hours for him. An hour was ninety days. Twenty-four hours was nearly six

harmed Sophia—truly harmed her, with the intent to kill—the loop might reset. But Argrave resolved himself never to do that. It was the least that

and execute it perfectly. Five, ten minutes? Twenty? Either way, he’d undoubtedly be trapped in this little bubble for weeks—and not normal weeks, either, but one where he’d be conscious for all twenty-four hours in its seven days. He’d

them all the questions he could muster. But the Heralds gave these cudgels of theirs no identity—they merely gave proof of power. They were crucial to the plan, and Argrave learned a great deal

or how to make them tick, or what drove them to be as they were. Even the king wasn’t immune to Argrave’s scrutiny. And his scrutiny confirmed something obvious—the king wasn’t mentally well. He made Orion look like the most well-adjusted human in the world, and he was

the castle when the loop ended for his companions to deal with, but that one wasn’t as difficult as it sounded. His intimate grasp of the people within the castle made it all too easy for him to walk around like a second king, ordering people about. They took him for a secret

searching for vague answers about the Heralds from each and every ornery citizen… his endless treks through time not only frightened him, but enticed him. He kept his

Why, experience.

had—shortening the casting time of spells. He could create new permutations of spells using segmentation. He had no new spells to learn, but he could simply make