Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 55: Hibernation

His calm words brought them out of their stupor, and both backed away further down the hall, led by Argrave. The mass of white and pink insects faded into darkness as the light of the spell illuminating them grew further away. The veins of the Amaranthine Heart slowly faded in the hallway behind them as they fizzled away. Once they were a comfortable distance away, Argrave released his grip.

“Hoo…” Argrave let out a breath of relief. “Damn. Forgot that bottle… That’s…” Argrave cast glances towards the darkness where he knew the room still was. “I feel like we still need some distance. Let’s go to the Archives once more.”

Both nodded without protest, and Argrave took the lead this time. He took the party to the stairs without issue, walking up two steps at a time. Once they reached the Archives again, Argrave led them into a room off to the side. He took off his satchel and placed it atop a table, leaning over it. His body was wracked with sweat. The other walked in shortly after, sitting to rest.

“Galamon,” Argrave called, not bothering to turn to look at him. “Were they all alive? Could you tell?”

“They looked dormant,” a low rasp answered. “Barely any heat. Slow moving. Alive, yes—but weakened. Some form of hibernation, probably. They seemed centralized around something. Thought it might be that Amaranthine Heart you spoke of, got worried.”

Argrave patted the satchel bag. “No. I got the Heart,” Argrave said.

“So your task is finished. We can leave,” Anneliese said.

Argrave slowly turned around and leaned on the stone table he’d placed his satchel bag on. “Yeah. I got what I needed. We can leave,” he said quietly.

Those words hung in the air for a bit. Everyone was clearly relieved, barring Argrave, who had a grim look about him.

“A lot more than I expected to see. We had a little bug boulder,” Argrave said. “I guess, in response to danger… or maybe to the end of autumn—the cold, you know… they all gathered around the queen of the colony. Then, come spring, they’ll become active again. By then, the poison will have soaked into the soil or evaporated or…” Argrave trailed off. “Then they’ll be back at the surface. No real damage done.”

Argrave could not help but think back to the time he’d been speaking to Dras regarding Mateth’s fate. The Patriarch offered him an easy out then, and the same thing came before him now—leave the village, claim the job was done, and with everything he needed in his pocket. Another settlement instead of a victory.

“Argrave,” Galamon said firmly. “You saw how many of them there were. We have what we came here for. No need to risk ourselves uselessly for some field of flowers.”

“You said yourself that these creatures would, at most, displace the villagers of White Edge,” Anneliese insisted, trying to persuade Argrave. “Think about this. Anything needed to kill such a large number of the creatures would be absolutely devastating. Widespread fire might warp the stone and cause the place to collapse—dangerous both to the surface and to us. A collapse alone would make all of the ground above come with it. The entire village of White Edge might sink.”

“But the problem exists, and it’ll keep existing. These things will expand, maybe even migrate, in search of food. Perhaps next time, it won’t be such a lightly populated area. We’re here. We have a chance now.” Argrave shook his head.

“Please don’t even consider this,” Anneliese said insistently. “How will you do this? Perhaps the same way you dealt with those druids—Galamon told me tales of that explosive gas you used on them. Or perhaps more poisons? Even if we are in an ancient alchemy lab, ingredients…” Anneliese trailed off. “Why are you smiling?”

Argrave looked over. “Relax. You make it sound like I have a complete extermination in mind.” Argrave kicked off the table he was leaning on. “Cut off a snake’s head, it still dies. It might writhe a bit, but it will. We kill the last member of the Lily Lurker royal family—the queen—and the colony will fall apart.”

Argrave paced about the room, waving his hands as he explained. “We tell the people of White Edge what transpired, teach them how to brew that poison for the next seasons… problem solved.”

“These things might be gathered around the queen—you said so yourself. It will be impossible to do as you say without triggering these creatures,” Galamon rebutted.

“You said you barely felt any heat from them?” Argrave pointed. When Galamon nodded, his grin widened. “It stands to reason their dormant state is only intensified by cold—that’s just the nature of metabolism and hibernation. Anneliese and I use some low-level ice magic on the bugs sparingly to send them deeper into sleep, we locate the queen, and then we dispatch it quickly.”

“Then they all go into a frenzy as we saw on the surface,” Anneliese countered.

Argrave nodded. “Might be. But this state that these creatures are in—if what I know of other animals is true, dormancy isn’t something they can just drop into and out of immediately. They have to regain their faculties, turn their body back on.”

“A lot of speculation,” Anneliese said.

“Hey,” Argrave raised both his hands. “We’ll just test this out. If this doesn’t work, I’ll call it quits.”

“I think this is stupid,” Galamon said simply.

“Worst case scenario, we all die,” Argrave said cheerily as he threw on his satchel once again. “Probably bound to happen eventually, anyway.”

“You’re great at raising morale,” Anneliese shot back.

“One of my myriad talents,” Argrave agreed with the elf’s sarcasm. He walked to the entrance, then stopped and turned on his heel. “Listen… if both of you wish to bravely run away, I’ll concede. This is, unfortunately, a democracy. I bring you with me because I value your opinions.”

“’Bring’ us, like we’re pets,” Galamon commented to Anneliese.

“You are his mule,” she said back after mulling her response over.

Argrave shook his head. “Do you have a better word for me? ‘Lead,’ or ‘guide,’ or ‘escort,’ perhaps?”

“’Lead’ works,” Galamon nodded, and Anneliese shortly after agreed. He gestured with his dagger to the hall beyond. “So lead on, foolish leader. I’ll follow.”

Argrave clicked his tongue a few times, then turned around and proceeded into the halls. All of the veins of the Amaranthine Heart had faded, but the dark halls seemed a little less eerie after their banter.

#####

Argrave confronted a very unpleasant reality when returning to the site where the Lily Lurkers rested dormant.

Walking the walk was much more difficult than talking the talk.

Staring up at the mound of Lily Lurkers, his bravado threatened to die on the vine. At the very least, his presence confirmed they were not actively moving. He heard none of the rattling. Indeed, it was difficult to tell they were even alive. Galamon spoke up from just behind Argrave.

“Tell me again that plan of yours,” the elven vampire whispered. “They’re practically stacked atop each other.”

“Not practically. Literally, I think,” Argrave whispered back. “Maybe you could… go get your bow?” He suggested.

“Foolish. I cannot even see this queen you speak of.”

“Right. Well, first thing…” Argrave walked away from the mass of Lily Lurkers, retrieving the bottle half-full of black liquid in the room the Amaranthine Heart had once been. The black liquid was the pure mana collected by the Amaranthine Heart. The liquid was somewhat dense, but none of it stuck to the glass. Argrave wiped clean the bottle’s neck with a cloth from his satchel, then raised it to his lips. He swallowed only a tiny portion, but it made him grimace terribly. He coughed.

“Eugh. Tastes like acid…” Argrave rubbed his chest as he felt the liquid flow down. He felt a strange refreshing feeling spread across his body, and then some of his diminished magic returned. “Hoo…” he breathed, shaking his head. “That feels nice.”

Anneliese reached forward, silently asking for the bottle. Argrave handed it over. “Don’t drink too much. It’ll kill you in a violent explosion of magic.”

She examined the liquid, holding it up near the magic spell that twirled about her head and lit her surroundings. She took a drink, recoiling at the taste just as Argrave had.

After a few moments, shock registered on her face. “It really is… pure magic.” She stepped towards Argrave, holding the bottle up. “Argrave, this is… this is something the world has never seen before. Nothing the Veidimen have ever achieved in alchemy comes near this single bottle.”

“Don’t get any ideas, now.” Argrave took it back from her. “We’ll be using the Heart to make plenty later.”

“Truly?” she questioned. “I am unsure about you becoming… Black Blooded, as you mentioned some time ago. But this Amaranthine Heart alone makes the trip worth it.”

“Told you to have faith in me.” Argrave walked back out into the hallway, stuffing a cloth into the neck of the bottle as a makeshift cork. He set the bottle down, for it was too large to fit inside of his satchel. “Now, let’s make use of that faith in dealing with the queen.”

He came to stand before the mound of Lily Lurkers. Despite their activities in the other room, the things remained immobile. Argrave rubbed his thumb against his palm. The problem was so massive it was difficult to find a point to begin. Argrave’s companions, even the ever-confident Galamon, seemed to have similar dilemmas.

“…suppose I should do the test run. It is my idea, after all,” Argrave said awkwardly. The two stared at him without response, so he swallowed his saliva and stepped forward. His hand awkwardly hovered above the closest insect’s pinkish eyes. With his gaze fixed on that terrible stinger on its backside, a simple, one-dimensional spell matrix materialized in front of his hands. A mist of cold air began to emanate outward.

There was no immediate reaction to the cold. Argrave’s heart pumped quickly, but he waited as the air before him grew colder and colder. Eventually, even the faintest twitching ceased. Argrave kept up the spell a while yet. When he began to see frost on its body, he stopped.

Argrave bit his lip then reached out, grabbing the Lily Lurker. Its exoskeleton was quite hard. Argrave lifted it, and it showed no response. He took a few steps back, watching its stinger for any movement. Once he was a fair distance away from the rest of them, he set it down gently, scanning the horde beyond it. He saw no movement.

Argrave turned to Anneliese and Galamon, spreading his arms wide. “Would you look at that,” Argrave whispered. “’Stupid,’ you called my plan.”

Galamon shook his head. “That was but one test.”

“Enough for me, I think. Let’s do it, then.” Argrave pointed to the both of them. “Anneliese, help me. I hope you know the E-rank spell [Ice Mist]; it’s best suited for this situation. Galamon, your job is to monitor and move the insects we… chill. You should also make sure the rest of them don’t start moving about.”

Both of them did not seem especially excited about Argrave’s plan, but neither protested all the same. Argrave and Anneliese used the same spell to exacerbate the creature’s dormancy, and then Galamon hauled them away a fair distance, keeping an eye to be sure neither the ones in the chamber or the ones moved aside posed any threat to them.

Their progress was surprising to Argrave. They dug at the great mound of Lily Lurkers like it was a pile of debris and not a mound of dangerous, man-eating insects. Once they made a fair bit of progress in, Argrave’s spell better illuminated the center. After studying it for a time, he pulled aside Anneliese.

Argrave pointed out. “There’s a big, bulbous… abdomen, I think it’s called, there. A lot bigger than any of the other Lily Lurkers we see.” He moved his finger slightly. “And there. A head. A lot larger than any others.”

“Your queen?” Anneliese inquired.

“Yes…” Argrave whispered back, trailing off. “Well, no, not my queen, but the queen. Don’t get it twisted.” He looked at Anneliese, brain working quickly. “Then, I think it’s… my time.”

Argrave stepped into the path they’d carved, walking past the uneasy Anneliese. He held his hand out, taking careful aim at what he recognized now as the queen for certain. He conjured blood magic for the second time in his life, using the same D-rank spell as the first time: [Pierce]. A pencil thin red bolt shot out from the conjured matrix, and with it came a burst of pain from Argrave’s wrist.

The shot narrowly missed what Argrave thought was the queen’s head, instead striking one of the nearby insects. Argrave grit his teeth and raised his hand a second time, using the same spell. It struck home this time, and the insect head exploded into white viscera.

With that death, there was a shift in the room. The largely immobile mound seemed much more alive, stirring as if that noise had triggered a natural instinct. It was like something slowly coming to life—nothing moved quickly, but it was clearly waking up.

The pain in his arm was unbearable and Argrave pulled off his glove, staring at his hand. Cracks leaking blood marred much of his skin. Galamon grabbed Argrave’s shoulder, pulling him from his stupor. “Time to move,” the elf said loudly.