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.”

revealed the prize—the golden Fruit

a hole through his head. “You’d better be joking, Argrave. You did not hold a lottery for the Fruit of

pointing at the

four-sided die, fit it inside, and then let the fruit

with her elbows as she leaned against the table. Durran simply started laughing, and

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

die was badly balanced. Or, it was simply random chance. And even if

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 if

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

mean we can’t be,” he said softly as he met

more to say, but his words made her hold her tongue. She placed her hands on the table, her temper cooling somewhat. Durran placed his hand

If you say Melanie…”

idea had been a mistake from the beginning. What did this fruit really know? Was

the fruit out

to be. You’re checking if… hell, I don’t know. You’re checking if I’m willing to be selfless enough to give up the fruit, because I know there’s someone better it should go to.

has been misappropriated; report any

demented,” Argrave chuckled. “Why can’t

I don’t get lucky.” Durran tapped his chest. “I got my one piece

smile. Her protests had vanished like morning dew now that she knew its recipient. Argrave assumed she

not astronomically low, it’s 1/16 odds. Actually… 16/16. The fruit chose you, Durran.” Argrave held it out further. “Don’t look a gift

out delicately, as if he was trying to pet a flighty bunny, then grasped the fruit gently. He weighed it in his hand, then locked gazes with Argrave. “Did it

notice a difference, but I

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

“I hope this

Durran. “Now… I have to give it to the next…”

#####

the busy clanging of industry in the building ahead of him. He looked to Anneliese just beside

this point. “You told me to let it guide us. And so it has guided. The fruit does

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

Artur’s Hall of Enchantment. Within, countless forges worked diligently to 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

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 merely made it the right era for him. Now, this place had artificers of every stripe. He worked closely with Elenore to fuel Vasquer’s war economy, and

supervisors 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, so he merely walked down the vast

As it had been before, this was a multi-story building without stairs. Instead, levitating stone platforms as seen in Order elevators carried everyone everywhere. Offices lined the two side walls in long

this rate, you cannot meet them. If we can’t have 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 queen herself, Her Highness Anneliese, will be presiding over it. I’m paying you good money, aren’t I? Each and every one of you nitwits is earning ten times you