Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 225: The Troupe Departs

Anneliese and Argrave raised up their new golden badges and clinked them together. It let out a pleasant metallic sound. Durran and Galamon watched on from another part of the room, both relatively idle.

“High Wizard Anneliese. Sounds nice. A shame it’s a temporary title,” Argrave’s gaze jumped between the golden owl badges in her hand and Anneliese’s amber eyes.

She tilted her head. “How do you mean?”

Argrave shrugged. “Well, soon enough, you’ll be a Magister.”

Anneliese shook her head with an amused smile, but gradually her expression became serious. “Are you sure of travelling with Vera and Hegazar?”

Argrave stowed away the golden badge. “Bit too late to get out of this gambit now, no?”

“We could just stay in the Tower,” Durran posited.

Argrave looked to him. “If I was going to do that, I would have done it all those months ago. Then Anneliese would be conquering Berendar, you’d probably be dead, and Galamon would be… I’m not sure. He’d be fine, I guess. Meanwhile, everyone else would be dying, and then I’d die, too, once Gerechtigkeit comes.”

“Fortunate thing, then,” Galamon spoke. Argrave knew he hated speculation, and likely wished to change the subject.

“Hegazar makes me uneasy,” Anneliese stated. “His emotions… are not human, I think.”

Argrave pointed to her. “You can’t see his real body. Even I can only see a vague silhouette of his form. You’re not seeing emotions at all—it’s illusion magic.”

“You have said that time and time again,” Anneliese nodded. “Never mind that. Even Vera sees us only as tools, means to an end. Can we not travel with better people?”

Argrave sighed. “If they existed… sure, I could. But Castro is busy keeping his apprentice alive. Beyond that, appeals to empathy won’t work for any Magister willing to meet us—the only ones we can get are the ones that are self-interested. At the very least, Vera and Hegazar are consistent in their morals… or lack thereof. It makes them predictable. This isn’t another Orion, Anneliese—I have some assurances. So long as these two vipers think I’ve got something interesting in this head of mine, they’ll keep me alive.”

“The rest of us? Tough luck, I assume,” Durran quipped.

Argrave vowed, “I’ll die long before any of you.”

Anneliese looked ill at ease regarding that vow, but Durran joked, “Guess I have to keep you alive for a long while then, for my own sake if nothing else.”

#####

Argrave rode the central elevator of mystic stone slabs to a certain floor, then disembarked. All of his companions were present, plus another individual—the ashen-haired Magister, Vera.

“You came early,” she noted politely.

“I was already up. Don’t like waiting around,” Argrave explained, stepping off and making room so as not to crowd things for other people.

Vera crossed her arms. “You will find it is a wasted effort. Hegazar is always late.”

Argrave nodded without committing any words to her claim.

Vera stalked up to him languidly. “But it is a good thing. I get you to myself.” She grabbed his shoulder, standing on the tips of her toes to whisper into his ear, “Hegazar put men out to watch where we head. I caught wind of it this morning. But don’t worry,” she said soothingly. “I have my own people watching his. None will see us leave, as you wanted.”

Argrave pulled away. “That’s good,” he thanked her. If Vera had wanted to talk in private, she might have conjured a ward, but instead she did that. He wasn’t particularly fond of it, but it’d be best to keep that to himself.

It seemed that the game had already begun. Vera and Hegazar would turn him into a battlefield of manipulation. Vera was subtler than the egomaniac that was Hegazar, but no less spiteful or dangerous. She was the aunt of Count Delbraun of Jast, with the gray-haired, orange-eyed look prominent in the House, but her familial ties had little bearing on her position. One didn’t become a Magister without a certain temperament.

Argrave walked to the wall beside Galamon, where he slumped down until he sat on the floor. As he examined his beautiful new golden badge denoting his status as a High Wizard, his Brumesingers came out. Their fur was growing a bit darker, and they were growing a bit bigger. Now, their shade of gray nearly qualified as black. They had been ever-able protectors.

“Anything new?” Argrave inquired of Galamon to pass the time.

“All quiet,” Galamon informed him.

Argrave took a deep, nervous breath. This might be the last time they had of relative safety. They’d have to dance a constant game around these two narcissistic Magisters… but there was still no better security than their presence. One an unparalleled illusionist, the other a master of elemental magic—Argrave could infiltrate anywhere with their aid. It would be a week before Argrave recovered his Blessing of Supersession—not the most ideal situation, but Argrave only had to keep an eye on the two.

In a few minutes, Tower Master Castro came down the elevator. His eyes scanned his party members. Argrave was briefly worried about Galamon’s vampirism being exposed given how omniscient the Tower Master seemed at times, but nothing unusual occurred.

“Hegazar is not here?” Castro questioned.

“He’s late,” Vera informed him.

“No matter,” Castro shook his head. “You two—come forth,” he directed Galamon and Durran. When they did, he quickly pressed something against their chest. An owl of teal light took shape on both their bodies.

“Been a while since I’ve used these. Temporary passes,” Castro explained. “They’ll dissipate the moment you leave the Tower. So, if you need anything…”

“We’re settled,” Argrave informed him. “Left a good chunk of books for you—druidic magic. I’ll get you the rest in time, as I promised,” he nodded towards Castro.

Unlike before, Castro did not seem so perturbed by this fact—perhaps it was because Argrave had shown he wasn’t lying, or maybe Castro acknowledged Argrave might need them most, fighting against Gerechtigkeit as he was.

Regardless, his thoughts could not be explored long. Someone came into view in the elevator—Hegazar, with his illusory and real self overlapping.

Anneliese, without the benefit of Garm’s eyes, could not see past Hegazar’s illusion. She had known something was amiss nonetheless—she said that Hegazar’s body was somehow wrong, that it projected emotions in an inhuman way. The man made her deeply uneasy because of this. It was like a sense that Anneliese had all her life simply vanished when applied to this man.

“Well, if it isn’t the old man. He deigns to come down from his silk-carpeted chambers for little old Kinslayer? Such a rich respect for the newer generation—very admirable. Or maybe you simply have a penchant for stepping on the snake, Master Castro,” Hegazar said smoothly. “Shame about the drapes,” his eyes went to Vera.

“Keep your eyes off me,” she snapped at him.

Hegazar stepped off the elevator. “My eyes are in my head, fortunately. It’s my gaze that’s on you. I can see why someone slow-witted like yourself—”

“Magisters,” Castro cut in, putting power into his voice. “We should not waste time.”

“Sure, sure,” Hegazar nodded.

Argrave said, “Once again, I appreciate this, Castro.”

Castro nodded. “Be sure it has meaning. I hope we have time to discuss what you brought me at a later date.”

Argrave nodded. “You will.”

After a brief scan of his companions, Galamon handed Argrave his backpack, and he hefted it on. They all prepared to leave. One large stone tablet descended to accommodate all of them, and they stood on it, waiting.

“You know, Kinslayer,” Hegazar said as they ascended. “Be careful. Some people, they smile, flutter their eyes, show a little leg… but don’t let it distract you. It’s bad enough that Vera’s forced her way onto this convoy—trusting her would be the last mistake you make.”

“Hegazar sometimes imitates the forms of loved ones to deceive people into sex,” Vera said succinctly. “He’s like an incub—”

“See? All she can say is lies,” he interrupted her. “The last thing I’d need is to imitate another’s form—my own body is good enough.”

The elevator felt dreadfully long, Hegazar and Vera trading insults back and forth indiscriminately. Most of what each said was lies—Anneliese confirmed that they were lying constantly with cues to Argrave, though after a time he got the message and gave her leave to relax.

“Argrave,” Castro said. “My apprentice wanted to speak with you before you left.”

Being called aside without much warning, Argrave furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“The prodigal, faceless apprentice?” Hegazar noted. “Bring him out, won’t you?”

“Go to the balcony, Hegazar. And know I keep inventory,” Castro warned him blatantly. “Are you coming, Argrave?”

Though his question of ‘why’ had not been answered, Argrave nodded and followed along.

“I’ll set up the illusions while you’re away, Kinslayer,” Hegazar called out. “No one will know you’ve left, not for days… the things I do for my friends, why, sometimes I make myself proud…”

Castro led Argrave away as the rest of Argrave’s party made their way to the balcony, ready to move.

“If this Gerechtigkeit proves to be real, I’ll lend you my aid,” Castro promised. “Unconditionally, at that. This isn’t a matter of politics—this is a natural disaster, it would seem.”

“You brought me aside to tell me that?” Argrave questioned. “I already knew you would. I know you well.”

“…no, I didn’t bring you here to tell you that,” Castro said, obviously off-balance from Argrave’s assertion. “Ingo does want to speak to you.

Though surprised, Argrave was led into a secluded place in the top floor before he could ponder too deeply. There, he saw a young man hunched over a desk, studying. Argrave dared to examine his magic supply… but it was rather ordinary.

“Ingo,” Castro called out gently. “I brought him.”

Ingo turned. He had light, almost baby-blue hair and eyes, which greatly enhanced the image of naivete the young man projected.

“Hello,” Ingo greeted. “Are you Argrave of Vasquer?”

“Just Argrave, but yes,” he nodded, curious as to why Ingo wanted to see him.

“Oh… um, sorry. Or… yes, I’m sorry,” Ingo tripped over his words. “And I’m… I heard you had to kill your own brother. I’m sorry. That must have been very hard.”

Argrave couldn’t deny the words caught him off guard. Was it hard? Argrave wondered. He felt his scale of difficulty had gone a little haywire in the past months.

“After all, he was still family,” Ingo continued. “Despite what he might have done, I know that it can… carry weight.”

Oh, Argrave realized. He means emotionally hard.

“I’m fine,” Argrave assured him.

“Are you?” Ingo asked. “Oh—erm, I shouldn’t imply you’re lying. I’m sorry.” Ingo shook his head vigorously. “I’m terrible at… well, I wanted to meet you. Castro says we’re the same age, and… he also said your thesis was genius, so I thought… well, a new disciple might… you might… Castro mentioned something about you and being a disciple… ”

As Argrave looked at the Master pointedly, Castro cleared his throat. “I think you misheard, Ingo.”

“Did I?” Ingo asked disbelievingly. “I’m sorry. I’m getting off the point. I just… I saw something. Something important, and I had to tell you.”

Argrave frowned and stepped closer. “Something related to your Blessing?”

Castro tensed. Few knew of the nature of Ingo’s affliction—his body constantly ate itself, degrading into nothingness, and in return Ingo received visions. He could not see the future, but he saw important things occurring around the world at present. These visions were often delivered to him in vague imagery.

Ingo nodded. “Yes. All I can say… all I can say is this. The Bat cannot hear everything, especially not that hiding in its own fur.”

Argrave’s face tensed. “Was there anything else?”

“No,” Ingo shook his head.

Argrave took a deep breath, then looked behind him. “Thank you, Ingo. That’s very helpful. I’ll be careful.”

#####

When Argrave stepped out onto the balcony, Vera stood atop a gargantuan bird formed of wind. It had saddles on its back, enough to accommodate even sixteen people, let alone the six their party actually was.

“Took you long enough,” Hegazar noted, lounging against the railing. “Everything is prepared for the journey. Are you prepared to step out onto the stage, start this show?”

Argrave nodded confidently. “Very much so.”

“This spell can only travel in one direction, and we’ll need to jump off at the end,” Vera called out. “Perhaps it’s time you disclose where we’re headed.”

“North-northwest,” Argrave said at once.

“But that’s…” Hegazar noted. “Is this some regret and remorse I hear? You planning to turn yourself in to your old dad? That’s almost directly to Dirracha,” Hegazar said incredulously.

“No,” Argrave shook his head. “I told you this would be worth your time. The biggest of the Order of the Rose living fortresses… they were near the capital. So, let’s go. Please, cloak our advance, Magister Hegazar.”