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.”

Fruit of Being. “I’d say it’s

sharp enough to bore a hole through his head. “You’d better

her, pointing at the fruit. “Is that it?

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

elbows as she

told them, adding conviction to his words. “Every roll, it

the die was badly balanced. Or, it was simply random chance.

want to spend the rest of my life questioning if I

want to talk about fair, after who we’ve lost?” Elenore’s voice

can’t be,” he said softly as

to have more to say, but his words made her hold her tongue. She placed her hands on the

won? If you say Melanie…”

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

fruit out to Durran. “You

fell over. He stared for a few moments, 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

been misappropriated; report any instances of this story

sound demented,” Argrave chuckled. “Why

get lucky.” Durran tapped his chest. “I got my one piece of

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

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

fruit gently. He weighed it in his hand, then locked gazes with Argrave. “Did it

even notice a difference, but I did pass

this on my bed, then. Yeah.” He made for the exit, and he started laughing as he stared at it. “Lottery… the damn lottery,” he laughed. “Smell that air! Couldn’t you just drink it like booze?

at him. “I hope

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

#####

industry in the building ahead of him.

to let it guide us. And so it has guided. The

before regaining her composure. “Let’s

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

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 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 a few other economies

were working. Argrave knew that 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

Order elevators carried everyone everywhere. Offices lined

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