The first thing Sam wanted to do when he got back to the dungeon was sleep. Unfortunately, there were still a few loose ends to tie up.

Because of course there were.

The first point was, naturally, the kidnappers/adventurers. For a second, Sam was afraid he’d have to spend an hour creating prison facilities in the dungeon and assigning guards. Fortunately, Arde Shi took that responsibility from him.

“Melloram has a perfectly functional jail,” the captain of the guard said after using the Hunters Shackles on their former owners. “And my men are trained to deal with adventurers.”

Sam nodded slowly, tired eyes taking in details he’d missed the first time around. Like the the mail shirt that was on backwards, or the shoes that were only partway laced up. He glanced over his shoulder and likewise examined Kereshe, who had relieved the human adventurer of his shirt and now wore it to cover herself.

“And,” the guardsman was still saying, “as it happened within the city limits, technically that makes it my jurisdiction. We’ll take them off your hands.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Kind of surprised to see you all the way out here at this time of night, captain. It’s kind of far removed from your usual patrol routes, isn’t it?”

The older man met Sam’s querying gaze with a bemused look. “Is this where I’m supposed to pretend Kereshe and I were not looking for an out of the way spot to bed down together? Those are young men’s concerns, son.”

“And we hadn’t even gotten to the good part yet,” Kereshe said, scowling at Eyebrows, who gulped noiselessly.

Sam felt his cheeks coloring. “Sorry. Not my place to—“

“You’re showing concern for those under you, and making sure a potential enemy isn’t taking advantage of them.” The guardsman smiled quietly. “It’s alright son. I’m glad we were here to help.”

“Hey Sam?” Pearl fluttered up to him from where she’d been checking out the damaged skiff. “Why didn’t you just teleport everyone to safety?”

“Teleport?” The elf, the only one they’d been unable to find shackles for, jerked in surprise. “He can teleport?”

The elf’s companions stared at Sam, then at each other, and Sam fancied he could see the mental gears cranking away. They had not been prepared for this at all, had they?

But then he had to sheepishly admit his mistake with the anti-teleport fields, and that became item number 2 he had to take care of before he could get to bed. And, because nothing could ever be easy, fixing that particular mistake demanded he have physical access to each teleport blocker he’d installed.

An hour later the moon was high overhead, and Samuel Tolliver was well and truly exhausted.

He was trudging back through the empty streets of Melloram towards the dungeon—Not alone this time, Kereshe had assigned two of her orcs and a goblin to shadow him, and they were exactly as conspicuous as she wanted them to be—when a shadow detached itself from a doorway and drifted quietly towards him. He was so tired he didn’t even see it. Fortunately his guards did not share his condition, and before Sam knew what was happening a snarling green wall had interposed itself between himself and the unknown figure.

“Tolliver.” The voice was quiet and tired and feminine… And he jerked in surprise as his tired brain coughed up a recognition.

“Councilwoman Milthorne,” he said, pitching his voice as neutral as he could.

Sam: Watch her.

Korgan: Oh yeah.

Grubb: Want we should carver her up, chief?

Sam: Not yet. But keep your weapons ready. I don’t know what this is.

“What do you want?” he finished, looking her cloaked form up and down.

“To talk,” the woman said, and the lack of vitriol and venom in her voice, so different from when he’d first met her, was a most staggering change. “May I have a few minutes of your time?”

“No, Councilwoman, you may not. I’m exhausted, and I’m going to bed.”

“Tomorrow then?” She stepped forward, and her hood shifted aside just enough for the moonlight to give Sam a look at her face. Her features were drawn and weary-looking, as if she’d aged ten years in as many hours. “Please?”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. By all the gods, he wanted nothing more than to tell the woman to pound sand. He didn’t have time to listen to more diatribes about how he was evil and a terrorist and possibly a demon hell-bent on consuming human flesh for nourishment.

But that ‘please’…

“Alright,” he said finally. “You have my secrefairy’s information?”

The woman shifted uncertainly. “Is that the fairy who is always hovering about, speaking a thousand words a minute?”

“That’s her.”

“Then yes. Much as I sometimes wish I did not.”

“Good. Get in contact with her and have her get a meeting together. She’ll let you know when. And where?”

“My office, perhaps?” she asked tentatively. “I would that it were behind closed doors, where we will not be seen or overheard.”

Afraid of being seen as sleeping with the enemy, Councilwoman? He was tired enough that the thought was enormously funny.

“Sure,” he said finally. “But know that I’ll be bringing a guard with me. And if that’s a deal breaker, then tough. After tonight, I’m not going anywhere without backup.”

She hesitated for a long moment, then her entire form seemed to slump, and her hooded head twitched in a nod.

“Very well. I will contact your… Secrefairy? Truly?”

Sam gave a tired grin. “Truly. She came up with it herself.”

The councilwoman shuddered once, then turned without another word and stalked off down the street. Sam watched her go until she turned out of sight.

“What was all that about,” the orc Korgan asked.

“I guess I’m going to find out tomorrow,” Sam said with a shrug. “Let’s get home.”

* * *

But sleep was still not to be found once they returned to the dungeon. Mari—Dianna was there waiting for him in Cora’s chamber, and his parents behind her. His guards tactfully peeled away and headed down a side tunnel.

“Hey,” Sam said in greeting as he walked up to them. “I really hope there isn’t a long speech coming, because I’m gonna be asleep before it’s halfway over.”

“You’ve had a long day,” Ma agreed, smiling quietly. “No, we just wanted to let you know.”

“Let me know…?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve agreed to your solution,” Pop said gently, glancing aside at Ma—Dianna. “It’s… Not the one we had hoped for, but given everything we know—“

“—And don’t know,” Ma added grumpily.

“—It seems like it’s the best way forward for everyone involved.”

“I told them everything I could,” M—Dianna said, fidgeting. “And, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay here for a while. The lich might come back, and you’ll need my help if he does. And… Other things.”

Like if a trickster god decides we’re all better off dead? The thought slid through Sam’s mind like a shark. Dianna was still an unknown, despite the talk, despite everything. Could he trust her? Should he trust her?

Maybe if he were able to talk frankly, it would be easier. But that wasn’t exactly an option, was it? Yes, Apollyon might have been lying when he warned Sam about speaking where the System could hear… But he might not have been, too. And that was a chance Sam just couldn’t take right now. Not with everything else in the world trying to kill him at the moment.

“Sure,” he said finally, sighing the word out. “There are spare rooms on the second level. Pick one.”

“Thank you Sam,” she said quietly. Her hand came up, as if to touch his or to pat his arm or something similar, but he shied back. No. No, he couldn’t stand her touch right now. Not now. Later maybe, after he’d had a chance to process things further.

She winced at his movement and let her hand fall back to her side. “Sorry.”

“It’s…” the word okay died on his lips. Was it? Was it really? Was any of this ‘okay’?

Not really.

“It’ll take some time,” he said instead, backtracking. “Sorry.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, not meeting his eyes again. “Um. The second floor, you said?”

“Yeah. Any room that doesn’t have a name on the door is free for the taking. Pick whichever one you like.” He paused, for a second tempted to add ‘and not any that are next to my room, please’ onto the end of that. But… No. No, he could manage, if she picked one that close. It would simply be petty to do otherwise.

Next on his list; changing all the dungeon teleport-denial devices to allow him to use his power inside the tunnels. And again, it took him almost a half-hour to get them all. By the end of it, his feet were dragging and his eyelids drooping so much he was walking around with his eyes closed half the time, going by feel and memory than by sight.

This couldn’t go on.

He drug himself up the stairs, having to hold onto the railing just to keep himself upright. He took a right turn and trudged up the tunnel, nodding to the kobolds who drifted past him, and at the mobs who saluted or waved as they went past on the way to their own beds, or to their shifts. He couldn’t even conjure up the names of most of them, they were just blurry faces against a blurry background.

I can’t keep doing this. He was running himself ragged. And much as he admitted that there were things only he could do—Like working on any part of the damn dungeon, who’s bright idea had that been?—he needed to start delegating other tasks to the people who could handle them.

He could have sent Ma and Pop out to meet with the dragon the first time. He could have had Char and Sheshek meet with the councilman and the townsfolk and report back to him while he took care of other things. Hell, he could have had Bugruk and Thrash come up with the strategies, and filled him in on it later.

His door loomed in front of him suddenly, and it took him three tries before remembering he had to pull to get it open instead of pushing. Inside, the simple bed against the wall looked like the most beautiful thing in the world.

The problem, the thought sparkled in his fizzy brain as he shucked off his clothes and headed for the mattress, is that there are some things I can’t delegate. And they’re all the really important things.

He flopped his butt down onto the bed, levered his feet up off the floor, and sank gratefully down onto the pillow with a heavy sigh. Gods, he was going to sleep for years.

If there was only some way I could give some of these abilities to others, he thought muzzily as he waited for sleep to claim him. That would make things so much easier.

If only.