Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave and Anneliese both stared at the number that had come up on the die. The first winner of the lottery had been acceptable, but the second…

“…I didn’t think that…” Argrave babbled, searching for justification for his choice. “I mean, the people I put on the lottery were the ones that evoked a strong impression during our journey. I thought that the fruit would filter out the outliers.”

Anneliese looked at him. “Evidently not.”

Argrave stared at the inscribed number one. “What do I do? I mean, this can’t be right, can it?”

Anneliese chewed on her lower lip. “Reroll it,” she encouraged him.

“Reroll it?” He repeated incredulously. “That defeats the whole integrity of the lottery! How can anything be sacred if—”

“The whole reason you did this was to let the fruit choose, right?” Anneliese looked at him. “If that’s true, it’ll repeat the result.”

Argrave was hesitant to follow through with the reroll for the principle of the thing, but her words made sense. With his eyes closed, he dropped the die to the floor once more. After it settled, they looked at the number. Four. They shared a glance, and their faces hardened. Anneliese knelt down and picked up the die, then dropped it again.

One. Put four and one together, there’s forty-one—the same as last time.

“…good lord,” Argrave muttered, hand held up to his mouth. “I don’t know what to say.”

Anneliese looked at him pointedly. “Respect the fruit,” she repeated his earlier words. “Let it guide you.”

Argrave twisted the top of the pyramidal die, and it split open. He extracted the fruit from within, then looked around. “I, uhh… I think I’ll deliver the first one. I need to think about what I’m going to say to the second. I need to think about what I’m going to do.”

#####

Argrave knocked on the door, and a female’s voice answered, “Come in.”

He entered, looking upon where Elenore and Durran had their dinner. It seemed a rather soothing atmosphere, and both looked upon him as if he had disturbed something. He held the fruit behind his back as a world-bending surprise. Hopefully, it might be a pleasant dessert after their meal.

“I’m sorry to interrupt the two of you,” he said, looking between them. “Hopefully, the news that I bring will make you a little more able to suffer my presence.”

“Pull up a chair,” Elenore offered. “We were discussing the strange shenanigans you pulled today. That little box.” She shook her head. “I don’t think you intend to conscript me for the draft, so it must be something else. I think it’s a task of some kind—something unpleasant, but something that doesn’t require physicality.”

“I’m the optimist. I imagine it’s something nice,” Durran countered. “Honestly I agree with her, but I’m taking the opposing side because it’s more interesting.”

prize—the golden Fruit

stared at it, then her gaze turned to Argrave with eyes sharp enough to bore a hole through his head. “You’d better be joking, Argrave. You did not hold a lottery for the Fruit of

at the fruit.

it inside, and then let the fruit

dinner with her elbows as she leaned against the table.

many times we redid it, it chose the same numbers,” Argrave told them, adding conviction to his words.

balanced. Or, it was simply random chance. And even if it did choose, would you consider yourself less intelligent

rest of my life questioning if

about fair, after who we’ve lost?” Elenore’s voice cracked. “Forget fair. The

he said softly

tongue. She placed her hands on the table, her temper cooling somewhat. Durran placed his hand over

you say

at the last moment. Maybe Elenore was right. Maybe this entire idea had been

held the fruit out to Durran. “You

then nodded his head with a grin on his face. “Oh, I get it. This is a test—it has to be. You’re checking if… hell, I don’t know. You’re checking if I’m willing

has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on

chuckled.

Durran tapped his chest. “I got my one piece of good luck—your sister. The chances

hiding a slight smile. Her protests had vanished like morning dew now that she knew its recipient. Argrave assumed she had protested so vigorously

The fruit chose you, Durran.” Argrave held it out further. “Don’t look a gift fruit in the mouth. Just put it in

a flighty bunny, then grasped the fruit gently. He weighed it in his hand, then locked

even notice a

go… I’ll go eat this on my bed, then. Yeah.” He made for the exit, and he started

looked at him. “I hope this

after Durran. “Now… I have to give it to the next…” he sighed. “Good lord… trust the fruit. Trust the fruit.

#####

the building ahead of

to let it guide us. And so it has guided. The fruit does not err. It is we

interrupted, and Anneliese giggled before regaining her

process metal, enchanters overseeing the whole process like hawks looking for prey. Their prey, however, was any mistake in the production process. Here, Artur, formerly a Magister of the Gray Owl, had carved this hall in the mountain of Blackgard, converting it into a workshop that elevated Blackgard into a bastion of wealth. Enchanted items left this place by the thousands weekly, while research and development brought forth new small discoveries every day in search of

Order of the Gray Owl, there had been a huge vacuum. Artur had filled that vacuum alongside government subsidies. He was a capitalist through-and-through, born in the wrong era. Argrave had

didn’t actually do any work, so it was strange. There wasn’t even someone waiting to greet him. Argrave knew where Artur’s office was, however,

carried everyone everywhere. Offices lined the

embarrassment in front of all spellcasters of any esteem. The queen herself, Her Highness Anneliese, will be presiding over it. I’m paying you good money, aren’t I? Each and every