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.”

the prize—the golden Fruit of Being. “I’d

through his head. “You’d better

her, pointing at the fruit. “Is that it? Really?! That’s

made a four-sided die, fit it inside, and then let

her elbows as she leaned against the table. Durran simply started

the same numbers,” Argrave told them, adding conviction to his words. “Every roll, it came up with the

him a fiery glare. “Or, the die was badly balanced. Or, it was simply random chance. And even if it did choose, would you

cross my mind?! I tested it!” He looked between them. “Look. Everyone was asking me to choose who to bestow a tremendous gift upon. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life questioning

after who we’ve lost?” Elenore’s voice

can’t be,” he said softly as he

say, but his words made her hold her tongue. She placed her hands on the table, her temper cooling

who won? If you

Elenore was right. Maybe this entire idea had been a mistake from the beginning. What did this fruit really know? Was

out to Durran. “You

is a test—it has to be. You’re checking

tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on

demented,” Argrave chuckled. “Why

Durran tapped his chest. “I got my one piece of good luck—your sister. The chances of getting luckier after that… astronomically

protests had vanished like morning dew now that she knew its recipient. Argrave assumed she had protested so vigorously because she suspected

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

he was trying to pet a flighty bunny, then grasped the fruit gently.

a difference, but

my bed, then. Yeah.” He made for the exit, and he started laughing as he stared at it. “Lottery… the damn lottery,” he laughed.

looked at him. “I hope this isn’t a

to the next…” he sighed. “Good lord… trust the fruit. Trust the fruit. Just trust

#####

clanging of industry in the building ahead of

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

interrupted, and Anneliese giggled before regaining her composure. “Let’s

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

alongside government subsidies. He was a capitalist through-and-through, born in the

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

Order elevators carried everyone everywhere. Offices lined the two side walls in long rows, all of them reachable only by levitation. Argrave was about to transport himself to

things prepared before the research team is fully assembled, our Hall of Enchantment will be an embarrassment in front of all spellcasters of any esteem. The