Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 666: Smoked and Hazed

“…long story short, he’s cutting a very persuasive figure on the stage.” A man quietly pinched small flakes of green leaves into a pipe, compressing it down with his thumb.

“You can’t worm any doubt in?” asked a female’s voice from nowhere in particular.

“I could try,” responded the man, brushing off a few flakes of green with his hand. He conjured flame from his hand, then set his pipe aflame. After inhaling deeply and blowing outward, he continued, “But he’s arranged things in such a way that anyone trying to sow doubt might get isolated from the rest, even killed, on suspicion of being an agent of Gerechtigkeit’s. I like you well enough, but I’m not willing to risk that much.”

“This is Gerechtigkeit’s fault,” said the woman’s voice with conviction. “People wouldn’t cling to Argrave so readily if he hadn’t been so overtly destructive. Things are weakened, brittle. I guess it’s been more than enough time for rot to take hold.”

“But he was overtly destructive, and the gods are clinging to Argrave.” The man blew an O from his mouth, and it drifted upward toward the night sky. “Only a matter of time before they start searching. And I can almost guarantee you they’ll start finding. All this reminds me of the old days… only worse. Or better, depending on the perspective you’re taking.”

“They’ve been talking to me about him,” the voice continued. “They’re all but saying they want me to do something.”

“Oh yeah?” The man laughed. “I guess everyone’s a bit spooked. Only question is—what do you want to do?”

There was a long silence as the man sat beneath the night sky, casually puffing on his pipe and blowing O’s and wisping trails of smoke up into the air. No answer came for the longest time.

“Go back in,” the voice answered, a trace of defeat on her tone. “Help him. Ingratiate yourself with his inner circle. Arrange an in-person meeting, far outside Law’s Court.”

“Gerechtigkeit’s always paying attention,” he reminded her, balancing the pipe on his finger. “You’re a bit of a homebody, these days. You could get jumped.”

“I’m still who I was,” she disagreed. “And he’s not half-bad himself.”

The man laughed, smoke puffing out from his nose in wispy bursts. “He’s no dragon.”

“I am,” she reminded him. “However this shakes out, I want our first encounter to be on my terms.”

“Seems to me the boy-king will want much the same.” The man emptied his pipe onto the ground, then pulled out a case. He briefly cleaned it out with a cloth, then put it into a form-fitting mold inside the case. He stuffed it back into his pocket. “But I’m good at what I do.”

“I know,” she said, though there was a trace of bitterness in her kind tone. “Take care.”

#####

grandiose speech came the more difficult part of being a politician—avoiding answering questions without seeming like someone without

the public-facing figure, leaving the more complex issues that required actual managerial talent to Elenore. This, then, was the arena he shined in:

The gods couldn't ask specific enough questions to extract an answer before someone else came along and changed the

many times, asking for precise details. He was relieved when the interrogator spent his allotted time, and another rose up to take their place—yet already, a coalition of some sort had formed. The questions carried over from one

uncomfortable line of questioning, because somehow, they’d all caught on that Argrave cared for the girl rather deeply, and wondered about the precise measures that he was taking regarding putting an end to Gerechtigkeit once and for all. He couldn’t outright tell them, ‘I’m just going to wing it when the big man shows up!’ even if

queue to ask questions. That fact deeply unsettled Argrave, considering what he’d preempted from the god before this whole fiasco began. Argrave leaned heavily on the fact that Sophia was being targeted by Gerechtigkeit to avoid answering questions, but he could tell that his answers were getting tired, and people were beginning to smell blood

a pipe billowing a sweet-smelling smoke, walked up before Argrave at the dais. He had unruly hair, but there was a certain suaveness in

story on Amazon, know

asked, ignorant of this

When next he spoke, smoke billowed from his mouth and nose. “God of politics.

the hard-hitting questions that’d come his way—if this man was the god of politics, it stood to reason that they’d been unified by this fellow. Argrave had to admit, the man had an undeniable charisma. Everything

kill shot of some kind, looking at Anneliese to steel himself. She gave

ask you a fundamental question—a question of character. What do

that question for tricks, for traps, then answered cautiously, “The means to end

arms out. “You’ll give up? You’ll

inhaled

smoke from his nose, and it wreathed about his face. “It’s not so easy to give up power. What have you

some time as he stared

Argrave, turned around. “There’s been a huge problem with this interrogation

eyes in confusion, watching this man

you sold your own heart to a monstrosity so that you could cure a man of his sickly body? A monster that

for a moment, saying nothing, before he

pipe again, then looked back to the crowd. “After having experienced this world the countless number of times that he has, I mention that to demonstrate there still remains boundless compassion in Argrave’s heart. I could tell you more tales of his, but my time

“Is it true, Argrave, that you went into

inhaled, wondering how the hell this deity knew all of this information. “It is,”

on the stage, asking commandingly, “Is it true, Argrave, that you secured the means to prevent the Shadowlanders from attacking

there was a trap at the