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.”

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of being a politician—avoiding answering questions without seeming like someone

that required actual managerial talent to Elenore. This, then, was the arena he shined in: foreign relations. These interviewers were quite ferocious, seeing as a great many of them had been doing

was the urgency of the situation, and the lack of a unified front of questioning. The gods couldn't ask specific enough

having fought Gerechtigkeit so 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

to another line of questioning—Sophia, and her role in things. It was a very uncomfortable line of questioning, because somehow, they’d all caught on that Argrave cared for the girl

Law himself joined the 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

one of the last. A god in mortal image, wearing a hefty coat and brandishing a pipe billowing a sweet-smelling smoke, walked up

know that it has been stolen. Report the

asked, ignorant of

spoke, smoke billowed from his mouth and nose. “God of politics. You’ve met a great deal of

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 from his posture to his somewhat gritty, deep voice commanded

for what he was certain would be a kill shot of some kind, looking at Anneliese to steel himself. She gave him an encouraging

a fundamental question—a question of character. What do you intend to

question for tricks, for traps, then answered cautiously, “The means to end the cycle of judgment. The means to protect people from

Jaray held his arms out. “You’ll give up? You’ll step down,

nodded, watching as Jaray inhaled his pipe

well…” He blew smoke from his nose, and it wreathed about his face. “It’s

silence for some time as he stared down Jaray.

Jaray, instead of facing Argrave, turned around. “There’s been a huge problem

eyes in confusion, watching this man as

day one, Argrave has been sacrificing. Let me ask you this, Argrave—is it true you sold your own heart to a monstrosity so that you could cure a man of his sickly body? A monster that

gaped for a moment, saying nothing, before he

the countless number of times that he has, I mention that to demonstrate there still remains boundless compassion

true, Argrave, that you

how the hell this deity knew all of this information.

on the stage, asking commandingly, “Is it true, Argrave, that you secured the means

still fearing there was a trap at the