jackal-among-snakes-16091326
chapter-173

Elaine watched Argrave as he ate his breakfast. It was more than a bit disconcerting, considering she deliberately chose him out of all his party members to stare at. Anneliese was feeding her Starsparrow, Durran was examining all of the food curiously, and Galamon sat in silence. Of the three, he certainly didn’t picture himself being the most interesting to look at.

Elaine had long ago finished her meal, but Argrave still had much and more to eat. Ever since becoming Black Blooded, he found his appetite much greater than it was before. Maybe that was just because he exerted himself more.

Argrave finally stared back at her, chewing through a soft slice of meat. He examined the black gaseous magic within her, considering it a good exercise to help him distinguish between the different ranks of magic by sight alone.

“I think you could become A-rank anytime you want, now,” Argrave guessed, hoping to break some of the silence.

She shifted in her chair and crossed her arms. “And how would you know?”

Argrave tapped his temple, indicating his eyes. “You think I got these lamps because I like the way they look? No—I can see your magic. Very impressive.” He lowered his hand and shook his head. He deliberately mentioned this ability, hoping vaguely she might report it to princess Elenore. “I got what I wanted from the Low Way… and from the Burnt Desert beyond it.” One of his Brumesingers jumped up on his lap, gazing at the green-eyed woman across from him.

Some of the iciness was dispelled by his conversation, and Elaine looked down at the gray fox on his lap. “I hope those creatures of yours made no mess.”

“They never do… unless I want that to happen,” Argrave pointed his fork. “So—let’s get to brass tacks. How is business?” he took another bite as he waited for her answer.

“Good. You mentioned that I could become an A-rank mage—the issue is, I’m too busy to head to the Tower of the Gray Owl to study the process,” she nodded with the faintest of smiles. “The Veidimen are a bit stingy. They’re only distributing the lowest-ranked druidic spells. Even still, they sell like nothing else, and I dare not cripple this business in infancy. Rowe is a hostile prick, but I very rarely have to see him. At this point, I very nearly make as much gold as my brother.”

“Do they trade any Ebonice?” Argrave got to the matter he cared about most.

Elaine shook her head. “Don’t know what that is. We’ve only traded spellbooks and books about enchantment.”

“Do they carry black weaponry?” Galamon butted in. “Crystalline.”

Elaine looked at him. “Maybe. I seldom go personally anymore.”

Argrave tapped the table, thinking. “Alright. If you can make it happen, I’d like to see some of the Veidimen smugglers.”

“What for?” she frowned.

“Come on. I set you up with this killer business and asked for nothing in return,” Argrave held his hands out.

Elaine tapped her finger against her elbow as she sat there with arms crossed. “You’re right,” she agreed after a time. “I’ll see what I can do, but if you’re here a week and no longer… you’ll just have to get lucky if you want to meet them. Voyages to Veiden take a while. Might be they stop by. Might be they don’t.”

Argrave nodded. It was the best he’d be able to get. “Alright. The enchanted jewelry that I left with you—I certainly hope they’re all appraised by now.”

Elaine nodded. “About two weeks ago, the last of them came back in. Very valuable stuff—I’ve got them in our vault. A lot of the appraisers made offers to buy them. I refused, naturally, per our arrangement.”

“Very nice. After I finish up here, I’d like to see them,” Argrave tapped his food with his fork. “I’ll pick out what I plan on using. Everything else, I’d like to leave to you to sell. 75-25 split, my favor.”

She bit her lip, then bartered, “60-40.”

Argrave placed his hands on the table. “You’re shaking me down.”

“It’ll be hard to sell them to anyone that doesn’t know what they do. I’m in contact with the appraisers,” Elaine pointed out.

“Forget that,” Argrave placed his elbows against the table loudly and leaned in. “Who did you use as the appraiser—that old man Mucullen on the edge of town? Or maybe that tower master Quint in the southwestern center of Jast? I know who you might’ve brought this to. I can sell them fine—don’t cheat me. 80-20. My favor,” he raised it.

Elaine stared, biting her lip harder as she deliberated. “75-25,” she brought that figure back.

“I don’t need you for this, and I already paid my service fee for the appraisal a long time ago. Those items are mine. I’m trying to do you a favor, yet you keep slapping my hand away. 85-15,” he raised his share once again, voice stern.

Elaine tensed up, staring down Argrave. Durran’s gaze jumped between the two of them, waiting to see what would happen.

Eventually, her tension dissipated and Elaine shook her head. “Dealing with you the last time was definitely different. Fine… 85-15, gods be damned,” she said defeatedly.

Argrave smiled as though his sternness never was, then resumed eating contentedly.