MountainSea was bright.

That was the first thing Tibs thought of as where they were changed. He saw that instead of being close to the horizon; the sun was high, in a blue and cloudless sky. He forgot the brightness as someone pulled him off the platform, the attendant by the gold he could see through the spots in his vision.

“Why is it so bright?” Carina asked, blinking tears out of her eyes.

“It’s only past noon here,” the attendant replied.

“How is that possible?” Kroseph asked, “it was close to sunset when we left.”

“You’ll have to find someone else to answer that,” the attendant said. “I have duties. Stay here until you’ve adjusted.”

“Are we earlier?” Carina asked. “Or later? I thought the transport platform only moved us to other places.”

“I hope you’re not hoping I’ll have the answer,” Jackal replied. “You’re the smart one of the team, and Kroseph is the local. If neither of you knows....”

“Did you know this would happen?” she asked Tibs.

He stared at her, the spots clearing. “I went inside a cavern when my teacher took me to the platform. Wasn’t yours outside, Jackal?” He noticed the brightness wasn’t caused only by the high sun, but the buildings were built from a pale stone that reflected the light.

“I don’t remember the sun having moved. Are you guys okay to move? I feel exposed like this.”

“Just don’t ask me to run,” Carina said. “Why are the buildings like this? They should make them darker so we could see where we’re going.”

“It’s to keep them cool,” Kroseph answered. “It’s not too bad this early in the hot season, but even with the wind coming from the sea, buildings are going to get unbearably hot; dark stones make the buildings hotter for some reason.” He grinned. “So it’s a good thing the stones cut from the mountain are pale. Come on, I know a place we can rest and eat. All that waiting in line made me hungry.” The man started walking, and they followed him.

“Shouldn’t this be the cold season?” Tibs asked. He’d sort of lost track of the seasons, with his town not getting cold, but he’d been taken from the city not long before the harvest festival, and he didn’t think so much time had passed they’d gone through the cold and then rain season.

“Cold? That was months ago.”

“No, I’m with Tibs,” Jackal said, “this should be the start of the cold times.”

Carina stared at them. “No, it’s the planting season.” She looked around. “The platform moved us in time.”

“No,” Kroseph indicated a grid carved on the side of a column by the exit to the area the platform was in. “This is the fourteenth day, of Breathwell. It’s the right day.”

“I have no idea what that even means,” Jackal said.

“Different kingdoms, different calendars,” Carina answered. “But how can the day be right for you, but the season wrong for us?”

Tibs didn’t know and found he didn’t care; the people he saw as they walked through the large street captured his attention. What they wore was in bright colors, with sparkling jewels that made his fingers itch. The tents with merchants yelling over one another to the point what they said became indistinguishable and the way people moved from one to the other made what this place was clear to Tibs.

This was a marketplace.

And the way people spoke. He understood some, but not most.

“What’s wrong with the way they speak?” He asked indicating a group close enough to hear the sing-song that came out of their mouth. He got surprised expression from the others.

“That’s Corelien,” Kroseph said. “They’re probably traders from one of the boats.”

“So… what’s wrong with them?” Tibs asked.

“Nothing,” Carina answered with a chuckle. “Corelien is a different language.” She motioned to another group, dressed in darker clothes. “Those are Ithirians, if you get close enough to listen, their language is deeper, more guttural. Most kingdoms speak their own languages.”

“And we’re speaking Jaraless,” Kroseph said.

“We’re not,” Carina replied as Jackal stared at the man.

“I’m pretty sure I know my own tongue,” the server stated.

“You’re speaking Filenian,” Jackal said.

“He isn’t,” Carina replied.

Now they were all looking at her. Tibs because she seemed to understand what this was, and he wanted to know.

“The transport platforms are magic,” she said, and they nodded. That was obvious. “And part of that magic does something to our mind that lets us understand one another. Didn’t you think it was odd everyone in town seems to speak your own language?”

“You expected me to think?” Jackal asked.

“I just figured the guild had pulled everyone from places that spoke the same language,” Kroseph said.

“I’m Street,” Tibs added, figuring that by now, it was enough for his friends to understand.

“Didn’t anyone speak differently?” Jackal asked.

“Sure, old man crooked teeth’s speech is so slurred it’s impossible to understand him, but I thought it was the ale.”

“Probably was,” Carina said with a chuckle. “But the odds are even on your street, some came from elsewhere and had to learn the language there. You can recognize those because they speak it with an accent, sort of a mix of their language and the new one they learned.”

Tibs listened as they walked, trying to tease out the differences, but it quickly turned into a cacophony of sounds, and then he was distracted by noticing the pockets. So many pockets, so many purses, each one of them seeming to be full of coins. And he wasn’t in his town, so he could slip a finger in one if he felt like it.

He caught the flash of metal at the periphery, armor, guards. Big guards. Mean looking, where the ones from his street had looked like they were having a good time. Tibs wondered what the punishment for stealing was here and put his hands in his pockets. Those at least were safe for his fingers.

“You know Jackal,” Carina said, “if you want a shirt in different colors, I don’t think it’s going to be hard to find that here.” She indicated a tent with fabrics hanging off a table, bright reds, blues, even the green was bright and pale.

“I’d attract just as much attention wearing those colors,” the fighter replied.

“What’s wrong with your shirt?” Kroseph asked. “I like it, makes you look like you’re part of the new guards.”

“That’s the problem,” Tibs said, and Kroseph stared at him.

“None of the Runners like the guards,” Jackals said. “Each one of us is there because a guard caught us.”

“Oh. Then why do you keep it?”

Jackal grinned. “I didn’t know they were going to pick these colors. I can’t help that they have great taste too.”

Tibs exchanged a look with Carina. Jackal was lucky Kroseph didn’t have any Street in him, because the fighter was horrible at lying.

“Where’s that mountain you mentioned,” Jackal asked. And almost walked into Kroseph as he stopped and turned to face him.

The server placed both hands on Jackal’s shoulders before he could speak and spun him. Then Kroseph placed a finger under the fighter’s chin and raised his head.

Tibs turned to follow where he was having Jackal look up, and found himself looking up and up, and still up.

“Okay,” Carina said, awe in her voice. “I think that was a stupid question.”

The cliff side of the mountain went up so high that Tibs lost sight of it in the clouds. It looked to him like the city had been carved into the mountain.

“Kro,” Carina said, “Tell me there are stairs going up to the peak.”

“Tell me there’s a platform to take us there,” Jackal said, and Kroseph chuckled.

“There’s a path.” He indicated ahead of them, beyond the platform. Wherever it was, Tibs couldn’t see it for all the buildings in the way. “Just follow Path Way to the cliff and you won’t be able to miss it.” He held Jackal in place. “But later. You promised you’d let me show you the city before you did whatever you need to do there.”

Tibs wrenched his gaze from the cliff-side. He was reconsidering walking up there.

“Yeah,” Jackal said, sounding cowed. “We should make sure to enjoy this as a vacation before we turn it into a training session.” He swallowed. “A long training session.”

* * * * *

The inn was loud and joyful. Kroseph’s mother had been overjoyed to see him, as were his sisters and brothers. Tibs was amazed at how many of them there were. The server had three brothers who were at the inn with their father. Tibs counted four brothers and six sisters, maybe. They moved about so much he had trouble keeping track of them.

Here he discovered what Carina had meant about the magic of the platform. When he listened to a conversation between Kroseph and his family, he understood the server, but not the other person. When one of them spoke with him, he had to speak first, then some of them would speak so he understood, but with the accent Carina spoke of. And not all of them were able to speak with him.

He found out he spoke a language called Pursatian, and that Kroseph’s family had made sure every member learned a multitude of languages so they could serve any customers that came to them. The welcome became a sea of joyous sounds Tibs didn’t understand, but enjoyed.

Once the greeting was over, Tibs noticed Jackal and Kroseph talking in a corner, it was agitated enough Tibs gave into his curiosity and moved until he could overhear the low voices

“…never said I didn’t like my family,” Kroseph said, it sounded like he was answering an accusation. “I said I couldn’t wait for the chance to get away from them.” He motioned around them. “Wouldn’t you?”

Jackal studied his face intently, then nodded. Tibs turned back to the bustle of the room as the two moved closer. A minute later Tibs saw them move about, laughing and talking with a woman.

The ale was good, and a lot of it flowed; enough, Jackal stood, declared his love for Kroseph’s mother, and danced with her. Tibs went easy on the ale, he wanted to stay in control of his head, giving in to the temptation of the pockets around him wouldn’t be good, not in Kroseph’s family’s inn.

He asked about the Cliffside General Gatherer, and the Low Rock District. He only got, “That’s toward the sea,” as an answer from one of Kroseph’s sisters. He figured it was enough to start his search for the store, but before he could slip out of the inn, a different sister caught him and got him to recount stories about his adventures in the dungeon.

Then, despite the sun still being bright, Tibs found he couldn’t stay awake anymore.

* * * * *

“And that’s the bath,” Kroseph said, pointing to a building. “They pipe the water from a spring in the mountain, and it’s hot.”

“How are you so energetic,” Jackal complained.

“You weren’t complaining last night,” the server replied, grinning.

“Last night was last night. This is different. It’s too bright, and too…I don’t know. It feels like I’m still half sleeping.”

“You drank too much,” Carina said.

Jackal stared at her. “There is no such thing as too much ale. Ale is how you relax.”

“It’s also how you end up proposing to my mother,” Kroseph said.

“What? I did no such thing.”

“You did,” Tibs said, looking at the buildings. They were made of large stone slabs, so finding cracks to take hold as he climbed would be tougher, but he thought the view from atop one of them would be amazing, looking down the sloping city to whatever this sea was, or back to see more of the cliff. “But I think you thought she was Kroseph, you kept referring to things I don’t think a woman’s equipped to do.”

“You let me say those kinds of things to your mother?” Jackal demanded, his voice a mix of horrified and awed.

Kroseph laughed. “She runs an inn. Drunks saying far too much is a nightly occurrence.” He blushed a little. “It’s that my brothers now know what we get up to that’s embarrassing. You’d think they’d have enough with their own wives not to bother me about what I get up to in bed.” He pulled Jackal along. “Come on, you have to experience the bath. I can’t wait for someone to open one in the town.”

“I’m going to go—”

Carina caught Tibs’s arm. “You’re staying with us.” She followed Jackal and Kroseph.

“I’m not going to do anything,” Tibs protested.

“I can see how hard you push your hands in your pockets. Getting caught by a guard isn’t going to help you with your plans.”

“I’m not going to get caught.” Then he hurried to add. “I’m not going to do anything.”

“It’s still best if we stay together.”

* * * * *

“This was a bad idea,” Tibs grumbled, having trouble keeping his eyes open. The bath had been nice. Far too nice. The water had been hot, and he’d relaxed more than he thought possible. Now all he wanted to do was find a soft bed to lie on.

“That was a great idea,” Jackal replied, arm around Kroseph’s waist.

“It was pretty good,” Carina agreed.

“That towel boy seemed to be interested in you,” the server said, and Carina blushed.

“He’s a little old to be called boy.”

“It’s a title,” Kroseph said, then pointed to a building. “That’s my aunt’s sleeping house. She and her husband have had nobility sleep there. Oh, that’s Filigan’s wares. You said you wanted a shirt, that’s the place to get it.”

“I want a bed,” Tibs complained as Carina pulled him along and they entered the shop.

* * * * *

He’d been right. The view was beautiful from the roofs; even at night. Claria was full. Her light shone and glimmered in the distance over what had to be the sea, since that was where he’d been told it was. The city was lit by torches and lanterns along the streets, and a few of the shops that remained open once the sun set. To his left, closer to that side’s cliff, an area was lit with something other than lanterns. The light coming from there was too white. Essence, Tibs figured. Which made him wonder if everyone who graduated from the dungeons became adventurers.

Jackal plopped next to him. “I have no idea where he gets the energy from.” He wore pants and nothing more.

“You’re still awake,” Tibs pointed out.

Jackal snorted. “I’m not the one who—”

“I don’t want to know,” Tibs interrupted.

Jackal laughed. “One day, Tibs, you’ll be curious about it, and you will not regret it.”

Tibs shrugged. “Aren’t you worried?”

Jackal raised an eyebrow. “This is me, Tibs. I don’t do worried.”

Tibs snorted. “No one’s around, it’s just me. You don’t have to pretend.” He fell silent. “We’re going to die. The dungeon’s going to eat us. Kroseph’s going to lose you. Isn’t that cruel?”

Jackal looked in the distance. “He knows I’m a Runner. He knows the danger I face. He chose to be with me.”

“But it’s going to hurt.”

“Tibs, you can’t let the pain of something that might happen keep you from living. I grew up fighting. First my siblings, then in the pits. I was always going to die in those. So I did everything I could to enjoy life in the meantime.” He motioned around. “This isn’t any different. You’re right, I’ll probably die in the dungeon. But until then, I intend to live.”

“I just don’t want to hurt someone the way it hurts me.” Tibs pulled his knees to himself.

“That’s fair. I didn’t lose my mother like you did. I got to know her. She was a good woman. I had others to help me through her death, although their methods left something to be desired,” he said bitterly. “But if there’s someone you want to spend time with, just be honest with them about the dangers. Let them decide if the risk is worth it.” The fighter smiled. “Then enjoy the fun you have—”

Tibs made a gagging sound and Jackal laughed. They were silent for a few minutes.

“Are you going to walk the roofs?” Jackal asked, standing.

“Probably. The sun’s going to be up soon.”

“That is so strange. It feels like morning came hours ago, but it’s still dark. Don’t go too far, okay? Kro wants to take us to one of the market places, then there’s the arena.”

“Are you going to fight?”

“No. The dungeon is something I have to do, the arena would be my choice, my decision to put myself at risk. I’m not doing that to him.”

Tibs stood. “I’ll be back before the sun’s over the horizon.” He ran along the roof and jumped to the next one. He couldn’t get to the shop in the dark, but he could at least locate the Low Rock District, then if he could give his friends the slip while Kroseph showed them the city, he’d deal with the task Bardik gave him and not have to worry about it while he accomplished his own task.

* * * * *

The arena had been strange to Tibs. He was used to people fighting. On the Street, it was the main way disputes were settled, but in the arena, there had been rules imposed. Some fights had only allowed unarmed fighting, others required the use of a shield, while some had them fight against animals. Those disturbed Tibs the most. It felt unfair to force animals to fight. It wasn’t like those were dungeon made monsters. They were ordinary animals, even if the roar one of them let out had made him shake in his seat.

In the chaos of erupting cheers at something Tibs couldn’t see because everyone stood, he found he’d lost the battle of will with his fingers. He pulled a copper coin from a pocket and immediately felt like he should put it back. He wasn’t on the Street anymore. He had more coins than he’d ever had. He didn’t need to pick a pocket to survive.

It wasn’t like the person he’d taken it from would miss it either, he told himself as he pocketed the coin. It was just copper; and, off the Street, copper was sort of meaningless, wasn’t it? And he was a Rogue. He needed to practice. There was only so much he could do with a training dummy. So a copper wouldn’t be too bad, he decided. It would be enough to show he’d done it without ruining the person whose pocket he picked. And it forced him to discern who had copper and who had more valuable coins.

He wondered what gold coins looked like, felt like.

Then the cheering was done and everyone sat back down and Tibs forced himself to look at the fighting.

* * * * *

“I wish I could stay longer,” Kroseph said at the bottom of the stairs to the transport platform. “I could go up the mountain with you. Help out.”

Jackal smiled. “It’s not exactly something you can help with. It’s an essence thing. But I’ll be back soon. It’s just a walk up and down.”

Kroseph chuckled. “Enjoy the walk, then.” They kissed and Kroseph stepped to the platform, handing the multicolored coin to the attendant. They stepped to the center and Kroseph waved to them as they vanished in a golden glitter of light.