Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 673: To Kill and Be Killed

“You should know, beforehand…” Raven began to caution Argrave. “I’m intimately familiar with this process.”

“A battle of souls?” Argrave stared up at him as he laid down on the table, waiting for the stamp to land on his passport and send him to the dream world.

“Indeed.” Raven looked at the implement in his hand. “When I was the Smiling Raven, every time I subsumed a living thing, I had a battle.” He turned his inhuman gray eyes toward Argrave. “And still I stand before you. Lorena has clarified that it is because I have an undying soul that I was able to potentiate so many living beings. She is… knowledgeable. Despite how she acts.” He could sense a vague hint of annoyance on Raven’s noseless face—then again, annoyance was his default state of being.

“Is that so?” Argrave took a deep breath. “That’s neat. I’m glad she can help you.”

“Indeed. Her kind can potentiate just as I can, but never before was a dragon of her kind born with an undying soul. Their souls would die, or fracture, when they bit off more than they could chew. Mine, however, would not perish so easily. It could bear the burden of being Smiling Raven.”

Argrave felt it was some revelation, but didn’t know if the information would help him. He started jokingly, “Well, you’ve never gone up against an undying—”

“On the contrary,” Raven interrupted. “I have gone up against one like you. The result stands before you.”

“Okay…” Argrave closed his eyes, digesting that. “I’m starting to see why you think this is a fitting test, then. Let’s—”

Raven slammed the implement against Argrave’s chest, and Argrave’s vision blurred as he drifted away.

Argrave opened his eyes with a gasp, and felt familiar ground touching against his face. He rose, quickly, coming to terms with this process of leaving the body. At the beginning of departing his body, Argrave always appeared in the same location—a reflection of his inner self. Durran had said that he appeared in the Burnt Desert in his battle against Garm, while the High Wizard himself had appeared in a field of black roses.

Argrave’s inner mind was Blackgard, but not as it was at present—rather, it was how he hoped it could be many years in the future. A blend of both the fantastic world that he found himself within, and the modern world he’d come from. His Blackgard of the mind had both elves and supermarkets, both electricity and magic, and both wyverns and planes. It tended to go off the rails pretty quick as the world fought against him, twisting his imagination to its own ends.

Standing in opposition, however, was a nightmarish scene vaguely familiar to Argrave. A black bird as large as the skyscrapers on Argrave’s city stood opposed to him. On its chest was a face—Raven’s face when he had been human, wreathed in the black feathers of the bird. The Smiling Raven didn’t have that haunting smile Argrave remembered, nor did it hold the orb that contained Hause. Countless stakes had been driven into its body, chains attached to the end of each. Statues embedded in the abyssal landscape around held the chains tightly. These statues were brilliant, golden, heroic—almost angelic. Argrave recognized most of the statues—he was one of them. His statue held the largest chain, its gargantuan stake embedded directly into the bird’s face.

Argrave stared the face down, until…

gawk as I have. I am nothing if not generous.

it, then. In Raven’s mind, he was still the Smiling Raven. This was how he viewed himself. He believed he had merely been chained down by Argrave and others,

we begin.” Argrave held out his hand. “Here, the Heralds won’t

That is why I waited.” Raven’s chains rattled as

“Anneliese and I are in

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thing. There is no harm in going along with the Heralds and seeing what

a brow. “I honestly thought you

rightfully on Amazon; if you

being—a parasite. They benefit from our suffering and misery. In what way, I cannot begin to guess. The only way to deal with something of that nature is not to strike a deal; it is to purge them with every fiber we possess.” The chains rattled as Raven’s colossal form shifted. They strained,

not fit him in his vision. “You will know me very well, Argrave. I will leave who I am emblazoned in your very soul, for better or

back, trying not to smile. “I haven’t been just talking, you

that he’d spent so much time creating in his mind came out of the alleys, pouring into the streets while brandishing their weapons. No longer did Argrave command an army of sword-wielding, spell-flinging soldiers. Instead, he had a well-drilled platoon of commandos, each carrying weapons that could deliver a fully-automatic load of S-rank enchanted bullets

a very heavily—and very badly—modded game of Heroes of Berendar. But he couldn’t deny that he also loved it

as he looked upon the soldiers. “I think you’ll find this time goes a little differently

command to his soldiers to fire. He heard gunfire, then felt a wave of tremendous energy as something stirred, something harsh enough

a reminder that Argrave’s imagination could not conjure true

of nightmares that were of such intensity his mind warped to forget them as soon as he saw them. More attacks flew toward this modern Blackgard than there were bullets flying to combat them, and each of them

that he was woefully unprepared to face hell itself. Then, everything ended all at once, leaving only blackness. Argrave thought death was

“Return.”

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grasping at his neck