“Let me see if I got this right.” Don looked from Tibs to the merchant suspiciously. “You, Tibs, found out there was something special about the pool when you tried to hire an adventurer to remove it.”
“One of the adventurers the guild brought in to clean up what was left of Sebastian’s house after we attacked it.”
“They brought in a number of corruption adventurers because what I did to bring it down left so much behind,” he said, not sounding entirely certain, but there was no light on the words, so he did believe he’d been responsible. “And you came to this merchant for that.”
“Darran,” Darran said, smiling.
“Right. So you bought the pool for Tibs.”
“After finding out who the official owner of the land the Garden Palace had stood on was since the owner and family died in that incident. It was the guild, by the way.”
Tibs shrugged, while Don stared at the merchant.
“Why?” he asked in an exasperated tone.
Darran started back, not looking certain. “Because if Tibs had gone to the guild directly, he, rightfully, worried they would have questioned his motives and realized the profits they could make from it.”
“Not that.” Don pointed to Tibs. “Why buy it for him and not for yourself?”
“Tibs asked me to buy it for him.” The merchant sounded perplexed.
“He’s a Runner. You’re a merchant. Money drives you, and it isn’t like he’d have any recourses to take it away.”
“Tibs isn’t a Runner,” Darran stated. “He’s a customer, and I happen to think of him as a friend.”
“Of Course,” Don scoffed, “since he made sure you and the other merchants were protected from that criminal.”
“I considered Tibs a friend well before then. And while money is indeed something I chase; too hard at times. I also value relationships. Any serious merchant will value them.”
“Really?” Don mocked, and motioned to the rest of the row. “Then why the fuck am I not entitled to the same treatment everyone here seems to give Tibs?”
Darran studied the sorcerer before answering. “Because of that word.”
Don looked at the merchant confused, then at Tibs, who shrugged.
“Entitled,” Darran said with a sigh. “You stepped into our shops and demand that we treat you ‘right’. That we give you the best we have to offer.”
“I pay for what I ask for,” Don replied, offended.
“Indeed. That, and your well-known taste for getting back at those you feel have wronged you, is why I expect no one has attempted to swindle you. You may be disagreeable, but you are honest.”
“I’m not dis—” he closed his mouth on the faintly glowing retort. “I just—” there was no light this time as he closed his mouth and deflated. “I’m not like—” He whispered, “Fuck,” as he ran a hand over his face. “Why is it so fucking hard to be treated like a person in this place?”
“Act like one,” Tibs said, and Don glared at him. “Instead of a noble.” The sorcerer’s expression darkened, but he stayed silent.
“It can be difficult not to start acting like those you hate,” Darran said, and Tibs raised an eyebrow. He hated nobles much more than Don ever would, and he’d never acted like them.
“What… do you know?” Don asked uncertainly.
“Nothing of you and your history, other than what I saw when you all arrived.”
Suspicions crossed the sorcerer’s face. Then he shrugged. “Okay, fine.” He turned his attention to Tibs. “And you want to sell me the pool. Why?”
“It’s not doing me any good. Corruption isn’t my element. Darran bought it for me because I didn’t want the guild to have it. By selling it to you, I get coins I can use to help the Omega Runners.”
“I don’t have anything like the money you need to do that.”
“But you can get that from the sorcerer and the people she talks for.”
“So can you.”
Tibs shook his head. “She thinks you own the pool. She’ll wonder why I didn’t stop you. She might question why I bought it to start with. I don’t know how friendly she is with the guild.”
Don snorted. “So, I’m nothing more than your agent, just like him.”
“I just want the coins I need to buy the equipment and make sure we can pay for the repairs. Darran knows how much I need. Anything else you get from her is yours.”
“Minus my commission in assisting you with the contract and negotiations,” Darran said. “Unless you can outmaneuver a sorcerer without help?”
Don shook his head. “You can handle those, but she’ll use magic to get you to agree to her terms.”
“I am counting on you to keep her from succeeding,” Darran said with a smile.
The nod from the sorcerer same with an uncertain expression. “And you’ll make sure nothing keeps Tibs from getting his fair cut in the process.”
“I trust you,” Tibs said as Darran opened his mouth to lie.
“Why?” Don asked in surprise.
“You’re my teammate.”
“And that’s enough?”
Tibs shrugged. “If nothing else, I’ll find out if you’re honest about wanting to be better.” Tibs knew Don meant it, but he also knew how easy it was to slip into old habits. All he needed was to look at all he’d done with fire after promising to never channel it.
Don studied for a long time before nodding. “Alright. You get your coins, I get my money and whatever else I can get out of them. The first thing we have to make sure is that I don’t end up indentured to the academy past my apprentice stage.”
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“You’re letting them own you even for that?” Tibs asked.
“It’s how things are done,” the sorcerer replied. “Even if I’d joined an academy as a scholar, I’d have spent close to a decade being nothing more than a servant to a master of the craft while I learned enough about how to do my own research and associated studies. I don’t know how long it’ll be as a sorcerer, the ones who have noted that in their writings make it sound like it is more about my capability than an established process. However long it takes, it will be shorter than what I’d take repaying the guild. So, yes, I’m okay with it.”
“Good, good.” Darran smiled. “Are you willing to open the negotiations demanding the entirety of the abyss?”
Don’s confusion was quickly replaced with determinations. “You know how to handle negotiations. So I have no choice but—” he took a breath. “I am trusting you to get me the best that can be gotten out of them.”
The merchant clapped a hand on Don’s shoulder. “I do like this new you. We are going to have fun skimming absolutely everything we can off those academicians.”
“But you aren’t scamming Don on my behalf,” Tibs stated, knowing Darran would see this as a challenge to get Tibs everything he could.
The merchant looked hurt. “Would I ever do such a thing?”
“Yes,” Tibs and Don said in unison. Him completely serious, while the sorcerer sounded amused.
“Well,” Darran replied, sounding far more offended than Tibs knew him to be. “I have never—”
“Yes, you have.” Tibs cut him off, and the merchant chuckled, then grinned.
* * * * *
“What’s your plan?” Don asked as they walked.
“Go along with what Tirania wants.” Tibs wore a dark blue sleeveless doublet over a pale blue tunic, with leather pants and hard boots in the same dark blue. The one thing he wore that didn’t match were his bracers; the clothier had tried to talk him into leaving them behind. They were under the tunic’s laced sleeve. That had been her compromise to Tibs’ refusal.
“That could make things worse.” Don’s robe was the usual dark purple. It had been the detail he and the clothier had argued about. She wanted him in something not so dark. She’d gotten him to relent slightly so that the robe was trimmed in gold and silver.
“What do you think it’s about?” Tibs asked.
“I don’t know.” Don wasn’t happy to admit that. “I wasn’t able to find you who the invitations were for. She dealt with those personally, so the people I know within the administration couldn’t help me.”
“So everyone will be important? Like other guild leaders? Or the person giving her orders?”
“They’ll definitely be important. But I don’t see why she’d want us there for a meeting with other guild leaders.”
“What do you know about the enchantments protecting the building?” the building was becoming visible at the end of the road.
Don glanced at Tibs. “Nothing. The guild doesn’t let that kind of information be talked about.”
“Isn’t that kind of enchantment hard?”
The sorcerer chuckled. “It’s the kind of thing that kings can’t afford. I expect the guilds makes sure their best sorcerers stay with them just so they can make those.”
Tibs studied as more details of the crate-like building became visible. The roof was lined by a battlement, the windows narrow enough only the thinnest of rogues could slip through them, if they could undo the enchantment that covered them, same as every surface. Again he focused on what he sensed, trying to at least make out which elements were part of the weave, but it was so tight he couldn’t make out the usual difference between them.
Adventurers in regalia of gold and black, just like the one who had showed up at his room’s door, stood on each side of the entrance. One had metal as her essence, the other’s eyes were a dark red Tibs had never seen before. Both were Epsilon, and they nodded as Tibs and Don entered.
The attendant inside, his clothing also in gold and black, looked them over. His eyes were the multiple shifting colors of crystal. Tibs didn’t sensed essence being sent at them. This was only a visual evaluation. He nodded and motioned to one of the clerks, also in gold and black, this one with the green eyes of wood, and she led them deeper into the building.
As with every time he stepped into the guild building, Tibs counted his steps, matching them to the doors they passed. After six, the numbers no longer match his memory, then he realized he’d miscounted, and there was no point in continuing.
The previous times he attributed that to inattention on his part, but now he figured it was part of the building’s enchantments. It would make it difficult for anyone to case the place and plan a break-in.
Their escort opened a door to a room—after Tibs didn’t know how many turns—onto a room that seemed too large to fit into the building. People, dressed fancier than Tibs and Don, looked in their direction, then went back to their conversations.
In that glance, Tibs recognized the dismissiveness of nobles, the evaluation of merchants, amused looks from those who recognized what Tibs and Don represented, and other expressions he couldn’t decipher.
There were more people than Tibs expected. And he could count the number of them who had an element, other than the guards that lined the walls, on one hand.
On the left wall, which Tibs was certain was further away than the last turn in that direction had been, a long table had raised trays filled with plates of food, as well as crystal decanters and goblets filled with colorful liquids. Fancy alcohols, he expected.
Tirania was in front them, before Tibs could move. “I am so pleased you could make it.” She wore a green vest of heavy fabric with crystals randomly sewed into it. None of them had essence. Her pants were black, and the buckle of her belt was an amulet with a reserve so deep Tibs wasn’t sure he could tell a difference between it and his own.
“I wouldn’t have missed this,” Don answered in polite neutrality and Tibs nodded.
“Come.” She led them to the center of the room as essence gathered there. She climbed the three forming crystal steps and stopped in the center of the transparent dais. She cleared her throat, and the room quieted.
“Thank you for coming,” she said. “I know that the events of the previous months have not made the town of Kragle Rock an attractive prospect as a place for you to send those who need training. I know that some of the decisions that had to be taken to ensure the protection of the dungeon did not cast the guild, and me specifically, in the best light. So again. Thank you for accepting my invitation.” She let the murmurs quiet on their own.
“The reason for this gathering is so I can explain why I was able to make the decisions I did. Why I put the guild on the task of keeping the dungeon safe at, what it might have appeared to be, the town’s expense.” She placed a hand on Tibs and Don’s shoulders. “This is Tibs Light Fingers, water rogue, and Don Arabis, corruption sorcerer. You may have heard the names already. They are the Heroes of Kragle Rock. Each is responsible not for one act of heroism, but two. Tibs took on attackers intent of destroying the dungeon by himself. He slowed their progress enough the guild was able to stop them altogether before they could succeed. Don chased away the man who tried to take the town. Who was able to infiltrate the guards and use them to sew distrust and discord. Then, together, they protected the town when that same man returned to wipe it from the world.”
The response from the attendees was a mix of scoffs and appreciation.
“They are the reason I was able to focus on keeping the dungeon safe. They allowed the guild to not fall for the distraction the attacks on the town were meant to be.” Her words were so bright Tibs saw it without having to look in her direction. “Yes, the town suffered. We lost runners. We lost people. But I knew I could rely on these two fine examples of what it means to be Runners to act and keep as many as possible safe. They looked after the town so that the guild could look after the dungeon.”
She looked the people over. “These are the kinds of people we train here. Not simply those who run the dungeon and gain strength from it, but who can make hard decisions. The kinds of decisions you will need when your enemies come calling. I do not promise easy training the way other guild leader do, strength with little else. Our dungeon is hungry and it will take its toll. You know what I’ve had to do to bring in new Runners. Because of that, you have questioned why you should send your sons and daughters. Why send retainers to die here?”
She pushed Tibs and Don a step forward. “These are why. A hard dungeon produces more than strong Runners. It molds hard Runners. The types to walk into enemy camp and remove the threat to those they protect. The kinds of Runners who become adventurers capable of doing whatever is needed to keep you safe.”
The silence that followed was long and filled with looks directed at Tibs. This time, they weren’t dismissing him.
She’d used him. Tibs knew that. She’d used him and Don to excuse her actions and make it seem like they would gain more than they would lose. That if the town was attacked again, they would be safe still.
She’d used him and Don to get them to feed more people to Sto. And he still stood straighter under those gazes.
They were seeing someone worthy of their attention. Someone to be watched and treated with care. They weren’t seeing the boy from the Street.
They were seeing Tibs Light fingers. Some of the ice melted, and he smiled as he saw the concern in their eyes.