Tibs did his best to ignore the Them following as he followed the guard.
He didn’t know why he’d been summoned. He’d just finished tabulating the rings in his ledger and working out how they would be distributed when he sensed the woman with too much essence to be a Runner step up to his table. That meant she came at the guild’s request, and not Irdian. She’d asked that he come with her, and he had no way to refuse. The Them had followed him out of the inn, its tendrils of secrets spreading about the crowd. It was like it was instilling secrets into everything around it.
A few blocks from the guild, Don, accompanied by a guard of his own, joined them. He gave a shrug at Tibs’s raised eyebrow. The most either was willing to do with others around. Tibs’s main concern was if this would get in the way of his and Don’s planned training.
The Them didn’t follow into the guild, and Tibs realized that the sense of secret that had been in the town, which he now understood was the Them, had never come inside before either. Did they not feel anything important happened here, or were the protections on the building keeping it out? How could he find out which one it was? And if was the latter, would Sto be able to make use of them? Or rather, how would Tibs find out what those weaves were so Sto could use them?
Instead of the back of the building, the guards took them to one of the large room past the training ones. Clerks sometimes gathered there to discuss things that affected many of them. Tibs had stayed by an open door once, while they’d talked, until he understood they were discussing how they should change the recording of how much papers they used in the course of a day.
He had enough to do with his own ledger. He had no interested in listening in on how others did theirs. So he hadn’t bothered with them after that.
Like the one time he looked in, the room had a long table in its center, with pages and pages stacked on them. In the far corner, a desk had yet more stacks of them.
A man dressed in what could almost be a guard’s armor, but just by the design, instead of the material used, looked at a page from the table, then searched for a pile and added it to that. He noticed them in the process, paused, then dismissed them to get back to his work. His expression had the severity Don and Alistair got when they were looking for a way to make Tibs understand they didn’t approve of what he did. Although he didn’t get the sense from this man that he’d accept the types of excuses Tibs might give.
There was something unforgiving in those eyes.
“There they are,” Tirania said, her dour expression turning proud on seeing them.
“There who are?” the man asked, not looking up from the new page he was reading. The exasperation had an undercurrent of anger.
“The Heroes of Kragle Rock,” she said, beaming.
The man looked at them again, in surprised this time. He straightened, his expression becoming a lesser version of the severe one he’d worn while working. “So, these are you who you had leading the fight against the Wells criminal?” he asked, unimpressed.
The anger at her taking the credit was so unexpected. Tibs needed many breaths before it would settle and he trusted himself to look in her direction. Of course she had. Why was he surprised? It was what she did. Turn the things she let happen into her triumph when they ended up being resolved.
“And how many Runners did letting them handle the situation cost you?” the man asked casually. Tibs was surprised again, but this time it was because never before had anyone from the guild asked that. Tibs didn’t have the number, but he could give one that would be high, while still not high enough. He was certain of it.
“Only those who were too weak to survive,” she replied in the same casualness, although from her, with what Tibs knew of the woman, it came across as dismissiveness. “They would have perished throughout the runs if the dungeon wasn’t progressing at the time.”
“And it would have been fed.” The words were sharp, and he glared at her. Tibs’s hopes someone cared about them were doused faster than fire encased in ice. Of course, the man didn’t care about the Runners as people. Just as food for the dungeon. He was from the guild after all.
The man motioned to the papers on the table. “Do you have any idea how behind you letting so many of them die outside the dungeon put us? What I’ve had to do so your utter lack of judgment wouldn’t cause my schedules to be completely disrupted?”
“I have explained my—”
“This?” he grabbed a page, toppling the stack next to it in the motion. “You call this an explanation?” he looked at it, search. “There. ‘Due to the unexpected nature of the criminal’s arrival, and his ability to hide his intentions, I—’ Hide his intentions? Unexpected arrival? Tir, the man was in your district for months before he did anything! He bought a house! How did you not look into that after your chief guard at the time, his brother, told you the man needed to be kept under supervision?” he was nearly yelling now, and Tirania looked taken about.
“I never saw a—” the words and the glow on them were cut.
“Really? Because Irdian found a stack of copies of the reports Harry wrote, all addressed to you directly! Are you telling me that on top of being negligent about a known criminal establishing himself within your district, you are so lax, your subordinates think they can decide for you which reports you get to see?”
“No, of course—” she stammered, and closed her mouth at the slamming of the paper on the table, causing more stacks to fall over, some spilling off the side.
“What you should have done,” he said through gritted teeth, “was have Harry take all his guards, the non-adventurer guards he had specifically for situations like this, and had them fall on the man like it was the Day of Urthur, and Kermial had showed up to teach that king a lesson!” He looked at the mess on the table, and set about putting papers back in order. “At least then, I wouldn’t have cared if they died.”
Tibs stared, realization setting in. This was Marger. This was the man behind all the problems his town had. And by how dismissive he was about Harry’s guards dying, it didn’t sound like he had much more care for the people of Kragle Rock than Tirania herself had.
He breathed to keep from acting. From acting rashly. He forced himself to consider the man. The green of his eyes meant wood. Which surprised Tibs until he sensed the reserve. It was denser than any he’d sensed before. Alistair had told him there were no Alpha adventurers, but without that information, Tibs would have thought the man was at that level.
That, combined with the fact that with the right knowledge any element could do a version of what other elements did, meant Tibs needed something that acted fast and he would have to pour all the essence he had—all the will he could—into that, because for the man to have grown powerful enough to lead the guild, he had to have a lot of willpower.
How full was his reserve? Somewhere near half, but his was vast, so that would be more than Marger’s, right? Wood was susceptible to fire, so he could channel that, unleash it all and… The man’s clothing was enchanted.
That wasn’t surprising. Everyone within the guild wore some thing with a weave. Like Tirania, most of what the man wore was enchanted, and like with her, Tibs had no idea what any of it did. There could easily be something that would counteract fire.
Corruption, then. It ate through even the densest weaves. If Tibs put everything he had in it, the man would be a puddle before anyone could react. Tirania too.
As well as the guards. Maybe Don. He’d been amazed at how much will the sorcerer had, but without warning? Would he be able to do anything as the corruption spread? How about the clerks and the Runners in the building? Once unleashed, how likely was it Tibs would be able to control all of it? He’d be focused on making sure Marger died, so whatever escaped would be free to do as it willed.
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He breathed.
This was still acting rashly. It was still lashing out without much thoughts. And others paid for it when he did that.
He never wanted to be that petty child again. He would take down the entire building and everyone working for the guild, if he had to. They had all played their part in letting Kragle Rock suffer. If he had to do that, he’d see to it none of the innocent were here.
But he didn’t have to do that.
He could bring this building down, the entire guild, simply by killing this man. All he needed to do was plan, be careful, and not get caught. If no one knew he had been the one doing it, there could be no reprisals directed against him or his town. After all, a man as powerful as the leader of the guild had to have enemies with their reasons to want him dead.
“Well?” Marger demanded, the tone and glare directed at them making Tibs realize he’d missed a question.
“The guild leader,” Don said smoothly, “laid out her instructions for what we were to do clearly.” The man snorted, but Don continued unperturbed. “And we were able to handle both incursions, while she could ensure the dungeon was protected.”
Marger studied the sorcerer. “You’re the kid who brought down the criminal’s house? You’re the reason we were able to get our hands on those stones.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Gotta say that’s impressive,” the man said in a pensive tone, which shifted to harsh as he looked at Tirania. “From the reports I received, the enchantments on that house were significant.”
“They were, sir. But corruption is particularly well suited to eroding essence weaves. It’s why Tibs came up with the plan. The sorcerers who put them in place were sloppy, and once the weave started collapsing, the corruption I had sent against it spread to the building, and nothing could stop it coming down.”
Marger shifted his green eyes to Tibs. “You’re a rogue, right?”
“Yes.” Remembering who he was speaking to, he added. “Sir.”
“Yeah, one of you would come up with something like that.” He grabbed a page and looked at Tirania. “But that doesn’t excuse what was wasted because you had kids dealing with the situation. Then, there’s that pool of corruption those sorcerers are building over. How is it they bought it from some random merchant?”
“With everything else going on,” Tirania replied, her tone confident again, “dealing with the fallout of the attack on the dungeon, it wasn’t at the top of the priority—”
“Then how is it you let that merchant keep the abyss thing when you were done dealing with those priorities?” he yelled. “Places like that are too valuable to let slip through your fingers!”
No, of course, how could Tirania let someone other than the guild get all the coins from selling the pool. Tibs was glad everyone’s attention was on Marger and Tirania, because he couldn’t stop the eye roll.
And unlike him, they would have kept the coins for themselves, instead of using them to help the town and the Omega Runners. Tibs had surprisingly few of those coins left. He’d expected to be able to fix all the problems with how many he’d had. But doing things discretely came with added cost and those had made his coins vanish as if they’d been dropped in the pool of corruption.
“Then, there’s the lake.” The man with a sigh.
“There is nothing I could have—” She stopped at his glare.
“Have you at least investigate how it is this city has four such places ready for an audience?”
Don glanced at Tibs, who shrugged. If they were referring to places where the connection to the elements were closer, Tibs hadn’t known there were four of them. There was the Pool, the lake, the area behind the archery field. Those were the only places he’d had an audience, so—
That alley where he’d been stabbed.
That first time he’d been stabbed in an alley with a metal sword. He’d had an audience because of that. But there had also been his audience with Light, so shouldn’t Marger have said five?
Only, that one had been on the roofs, so maybe they weren’t looking there? Maybe, however they went about detecting places like that needed them to be close? Tibs certainly couldn’t sense them at a distance.
“How would I know?” she demanded, annoyed. And Tibs realized he’d missed more of the conversation.
“If I may?” Don asked, and the guild leader raised an eyebrow. “I’m to be a scholar, not an adventurer. So I’ve done a lot of ready about everything that has to do with the elements.” The man motioned for him to continue. “While I haven’t read everything there is, I’ve yet to come across any research that support theories claiming the creation of thin places can be influenced by us, people. The evidence we have shows they are usually linked to places where the element is present in abundance, but beyond that, the whim of those elements seems to be what governs where they appear. No matter how much we might wish it was ours.”
“And in all this reading you somehow remember doing,” the man said with some derision. “Has there been anything about so many of them in one location?”
“No, sir. But again, there are far more books I haven’t read than those I have.”
Marger chuckled. “You’re going to lose this one the instant he passes his test for Epsilon. Mark my words, the universities will fight to get a mind like his. Which is too bad.” He locked eyes with her gain. “Because we could use smart people managing guild houses.” He raised a finger to silence them without looking away. “Don’t defend her.”
Don closed his mouth.
“You have cost us people, Tirania. Runners, that should have died in the dungeon, died in the streets. I don’t think there’s ever been someone before you that has cost us so much, with your habit of putting children in charge of thing people with the right training should have handled. People you had under your command, Tir. The guild has had bad managers before, but I can’t think of one who matched your level of incompetence. You even lost us one of our best guardsman. Or are you going to claim Harry Wells is off on some mission I haven’t been told about?”
Her shake of the head was small, and Tibs thought it was more out of fear than her telling him no.
This man really had all the power.
“What about you?” the guild leader asked Tibs. “Do you know where he vanished to? The reports I was sent say you two had some sort of arrangement.”
“No, sir. I found out he was gone the first time I was taken to his office, and Irdian was there instead of Harry.”
“Irdian?” The man laughed. “Oh, you using his name like that must piss him off to no end, considering the length he went to, to shut you down. Don’t worry. I don’t care about this racket of yours, so long as you make sure it keeps not interfering with guild business.”
“Tibs only has the best interest of the guild in mind,” Don said, while Tibs focused on breathing.
The man smiled. “Irdian doesn’t think that. But then again, he dislikes rogues more than Harry ever did. Comes with the job, I guess.” He focused on the papers, restacking them. “Unless you have more tricks for them to perform, hoping to impress me, Tir. You can dismiss them.”
The glare she gave her leader was hateful. The dismissive wave sharp, and the guards escorted Tibs and Don out of the room, then out of the building.
Tibs didn’t sense the Them as they walked out. He sensed as far as he could but that secret was not there. It didn’t matter. Even if they heard what he and Don talked about, it had nothing to do with Sto.
“That was interesting,” Don said. “I don’t think Tirania is going to be in charge for long.”
Tibs nodded.
It wasn’t like whoever replaced her would do better by his town. Marger’s comments made it clear he care nothing for Tibs’s town and the people who lived here, other than how they advanced his goals.
“How long until that happens?” How long until Marger left and Tibs lost his chance to fix things?
“That will depend on how much evidence he needs to go through before a decision can be rendered. He’s clearly made up his mind, but replacing someone assigned to manage a guild house can’t be done just on one man’s opinion.”
“So, days? Weeks? Is he going to stay here while doing that?” In the night, while he slept. Getting through whatever enchantment protected his house would take work, but was doable, and under that protection, he wouldn’t wear many of his woven items.
“I doubt it.” Don thought. “I don’t see a man like him staying in a place like this. It isn’t like he’ll have to wait in line to step on the platform. He’ll sleep in his home and come back each morning.”
No killing him in his sleep. And the only place Tibs knew where to find Marger would be within the guild building. With enough time, he could learn the places he liked going to when he wasn’t working and have better a place to remove him.
Probably a back alley. There had to be a reason so many attempts on Tibs’s life had taken place among them.
Unfortunately, without knowing how long Marger would be in Kragle Rock, he couldn’t risk it. It would have to be inside the guild building. Probably within that same room.
The method had to be precise. Tibs only wanted that man to die, so he needed to come up with a way to concentrate all the essences he’d need into one focused attack.
A killer’s knife, Tibs thought, smiling. With an edge of corruption to cut through the weaves protecting Marger and…something else. For once it was inside to help in case the man could do something about it with his element. He’d also need a way to get in unnoticed, and then—
“What are you thinking about?” Don asked, tone casual.
And he couldn’t go to Don for assistance. His friend couldn’t even know that Tibs was planning. He was the only person in Kragle Rock with corruption as his element, so they were going to question him. Tibs didn’t think anything less than Light was going to be used during that, so Don wouldn’t be able to lie.
None of his friends could know for the same reason.
Tibs didn’t plan on getting caught, and he even had thoughts on how he might be able to defeat light when it was used on him, but he was okay with his involvement being discovered, so long as none of his friends were caught in that.
Except one.
As much as he didn’t want to involve him, he needed Khumdar’s help in using darkness to combat light, the way the door had done. He’d have to be careful not to reveal anything, but the cleric would respect his secrets.
And if it came down to it, Khumdar had no attachment to Kragle Rock, and the guild didn’t own him. He could easily vanish and never return.
“Tibs?” Don asked with insistence.
“Sorry, just thinking.”
“And about what?” Don’s tone turned suspicious.
“Nothing important.”