/n/jackal-among-snakes-1520/c-92
chapter-91

Argrave awoke feeling refreshed. Sleep had come easier than he expected it to. At the very least, his body could sleep when he needed to.

All of that changed when he tried to move.

At once, his legs and back groaned, sore and achy from the intense yesterday. His shoulders felt bruised from the backpack, his feet still vaguely protested, and his thighs and calves were both taxed beyond compare. He tried to sit up, but even his core was sore.

“Jesus,” he huffed while leaning up. He felt something stuck in his throat and coughed. His cough was wet and unpleasant, and after he’d finished hacking, he spent some time clearing his throat. He was only able to breathe normally again after he pounded his chest.

“You okay?” Anneliese asked.

Argrave looked up at her. She had a book in her lap as she leaned up against the wall. She looked a mess, just as Argrave felt—her long white hair was braided tightly, yet still dirtied and matted.

“I’m fine,” Argrave waved his hand. “Just my throat, I think. Probably slept with my mouth open.”

Anneliese nodded. “Rare for me to wake before you.”

“Wish it would happen more often, frankly,” Argrave said, rubbing his eyes. “Any notable occurrences, Galamon?” he raised his head, looking towards the doorway.

“Nothing I could hear. Gave up on the smelling. Useless here—the debased blood of the Guardians consumes that sense,” he answered, returning to his usual brevity.

“Alright.” Argrave raised himself to his feet, and a piece of a broken shelf that had stuck to his clothes fell off him, clattering against the stone. “Part of me wishes someone would just break down the door. Kill off some of the uncertainty, at the very least.”

“It’s tempting to think like that,” Galamon stood. “Spent two days in a glacial cave, once, hiding out from enemies after things… went awry. Wanted nothing more than to do something stupid, force something to happen. You can’t, though.”

“I know,” Argrave sighed. “Alright. We have quite a conundrum on our hands, the way I see it. Kept me up a long while, thinking about how I was going to pull my head free of this vice before it slammed shut.”

“Given the circumstances… perhaps the aforementioned diplomacy with the vampires would be our best option,” Anneliese posited. “I am not sure they know three of their own died at our hands.”

Galamon looked ready to protest, but Argrave interjected himself before he could do so.

“I don’t really care to find out what the vampires know,” Argrave shook his head. “My overconfidence landed us in this situation in the first place. We left ourselves in the hands of a greater power, and this greater power proved to be unreasonable. The same might happen again, and I doubt we’d have an easy go escaping from vampires.”

Galamon nodded contentedly, and Anneliese looked to have no rebuttal. Argrave stepped away, placing his hand on the shelf blocking the door. He drummed his fingers on it, lost in thought. With a sudden realization, he frowned and turned around.

“I’m doing it again,” he said in annoyance. “Planning on my own. Seeking no advice.”

The two said nothing but did not meet Argrave’s gaze. That, alone, told him that he was right in what he said.

“Alright. Let me lay down some things we might be able to use to force either side’s hands…”