“Alistair,” Tibs began as they exited the room. “If I want to get better with other Rogue skills than fighting, and you won’t be here to help me, How do I improve?”

“That’s a good question,” his teacher said, then called. “Harry! Your timing’s impeccable, as always.”

Tibs’s looked in the direction and down the hall, Harry stood, glaring at Alistair, hand on a door as he closed it. He kept glaring as Tibs followed his teacher, stopping when they reached the fighter who settled his face into something less reprimanding.

“Alistair,” Harry greeted his teacher. “Mister Light-Finger.”

“I hate him,” Tibs grumbled under his breath. No matter how well-behaved he was here, that nickname Bardik gave him so long ago just wouldn’t leave him. The man gave nicknames to everyone then, why was his the only everyone still used.

Harry’s gaze lingered on Tibs after the comment, as if he expected more, then looked at Alistair. “What can I do for you?”

“Tibs has a concern that I think you are better placed than I to answer.”

The fighter narrowed his eyes at his teacher. “What concern could a Rogue have that I can answer better than you?”

Alistair smiled and looked at Tibs, which caused Harry to look at him again, this time with something of a scowl. Tibs swallowed.

“He can’t help you if you don’t explain the issue,” Alistair encouraged.

Tibs wanted to glare at his teacher. Harry was the law. Rogues didn’t talk with guards. He immediately thought of Bardik, who had been a guard before Harry arrived, but Tibs didn’t count him. Bardik had been different even then.

But Harry was also part of the guild, just like Tibs kept being told he was.

“I was wondering how I can continue improving my skills if there’s no one who will teach me now that I’m Upsilon.”

“And you don’t mean with essence, do you?” Harry asked. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why do you Rogues have to make everything so difficult? Do what the others do, go on a field, bash one another, leave me out of all of it. But no, you just have to go and make me work for the peace I have.” He glared at Alistair.

“Well?” his teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shifted the glare from Alistair to Tibs, who had trouble not just turning and running under it. “Do not get caught,” the fighter said through gritted teeth. “If I don’t know what you’re up to, I can’t stop you, can I?” His glare lightened as a smile formed. “If I do catch you, I will throw you in a cell so fast your entire team will feel it.” He looked Tibs over. “And you want to be extra careful, I’m already fighting the urge to throw you in one on account you know that Jackie-boy.”

“Harry, if you have a problem with someone, do not take—”

“I’m fighting it,” the fighter replied, glowing eyes fixed on Alistair. “I keep my personal problems personal. But a little fear in a Rogue is never a bad thing, is it, Alistair?”

His teacher snorted. “You are confusing me with someone who is afraid of you, Harry.”

“So I can steal?” Tibs asked, surprised at how much the news excited him, in spite of the threat.

Harry glared at him, and the excitement burned away under the glow in those eyes. He closed them, let out a breath, and when he opened them again, they were only bright, but not glowing, and seemed kinder.

“You’re a Rogue, can you even stop yourself from doing it?”

“I haven’t stolen anything here,” Tibs stated, chest puffed.

Harry began scoffing and stopped, looking at Tibs, surprised. “You haven’t. I didn’t think you had that kind of self-control.”

“If he didn’t Harry, he’d be a thief, not a Rogue.”

The fighter rolled his eyes. “Will there be anything else? I have order to maintain in this town.”

Alistair motioned for Tibs to walk again, and Tibs looked around at all the people in the hall, all those pockets. What did they contain? In the guild’s hall, they had to have more than copper and even silver. Maybe they had things that weren’t coins; things to do the work they did here. He wondered how those would feel against his fingers; if he could figure out what they were before pulling them out.

“You’re going to want to wait until you’re outside the guild building,” Alistair warned, chuckling. “Anyone can see what you’re planning right now.”

“I so want to pick a pocket,” Tibs admitted. “It’s what I’m best at after climbing. I did it in MountainSea, and I didn’t realize how much I missed it until then.”

“Practice all the sides of the craft, you need to be good at all of them to be successful. I’d wondered why everyone referred to you as Light-Finger. Now I don’t. If you had even a fraction of your current excitement when looking at people’s pockets before, anyone skilled would notice it.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything? And I wasn’t planning on doing anything then. It was against the rules and I saw what they did if they caught us. At least Harry is just going to throw me in a cell, not break my hand off.”

“I wasn’t looking for it. As I mentioned before, I didn’t have much interest in what took place here.” He knocked on a door and entered.

Tirania’s office hadn’t changed; same desk behind which she sat, same shelves with simple things on them. Same scowl as she looked at Alistair.

“You took your time.”

Tibs couldn’t imagine her stealing. He had trouble imagining her ever leaving her desk.

“We ran into Hard Knuckles and used the opportunity to address one of Tibs’s many questions.” Alistair’s tone was unconcerned, but the smile was amused.

Tirania rubbed her face. “I expect he’s properly annoyed now. I can’t tell how it is you two haven’t just killed one another. You do know he’s going to make someone else’s life difficult now.”

Alistair shrugged. “Not yours, I expect.”

“Not directly,” she replied.

His teacher smiled. “And what did you want to see us about?”

“How is Tibs doing?” she asked. “I see he’s still alive.”

Alistair sighed. “So you were right. This is because of how I taught him, isn’t it? You just can’t help rubbing it in that you were right about me being the right man to teach him. And since you now want details, Tir, here they are. Tibs is surprisingly adept at working around and within the constraints his age imposed on him. He also has a sharp mind that I am certain plays a large part in how he has survived. Tibs will go far within the Guild, Tir and if treated with care and respect, he will be a great asset to anyone he calls an ally.”

The edge in his teacher’s voice made Tibs nervous, even if it wasn’t directed at him. What was the warning about? Tibs already knew the guild didn’t have his best interest in mind beyond what they could extract from him. Was Alistair warning her about it? Or was this about something more Tibs didn’t know about?

He missed his Street, everything had been so simple there. No, he realized, he didn’t miss it, and things hadn’t been simple. He’d just been too busy surviving to notice anything else. If complications came with going from a street to a town, Tibs could live with them and the headaches they caused him.

“Noted,” Tirania said, studying the two of them. “I saw where you took him. Don’t you think it’s early to test him? Or has something changed with those constraints you mentioned.”

“His constraints are why I showed him the test,” Alistair replied. “He can’t work out how to do something if he doesn’t know about it. Now he can ensure he graduates as he should.”

“You talk as if you expect him to graduate in line with the others now that you’ve given him this advanced warning.”

His teacher smiled. “I have all the confidence my student will surprise everyone here.”

The smile Tirania responded with wasn’t as pleasant. “Confidence in your student is all well and good, but how do you feel about it, Tibs? How do you feel about this test and graduation?”

“Scared,” he said before he could think better of it. He didn’t know if Tirania cared or not. He suspected she didn’t. This was about her and Alistair. But hiding how he felt wouldn’t help him either. She’d picked his teacher. She might help with other things if she knew how he felt. “I’m scared of what it’ll mean for my team if I don’t graduate with the others; if the dungeon becomes much stronger than I am. Will I pull my team down? Will I be the reason they get hurt?”

She raised an eyebrow. “This is all about them. I’d have expected you to worry about what will happen to you.”

Tibs shrugged. “If I die, I’m not the one who’ll feel the pain. I don’t want them to feel it, I don’t want to die. But I also don’t want to be the reason one of them gets hurt or dies.” He didn’t add the rest; about how many he’d already lost. “I just don’t want anyone I know to die anymore,” he whispered.

“I wish,” Tirania said, and stopped. She looked conflicted. “I wish I could tell you that’s possible, Tibs, but the world is harsh. Much harsher than you can imagine, harsher than this dungeon.”

“I didn’t know that,” he said. He couldn’t imagine something harsher than what the dungeon had put him through. Even losing Mama didn’t feel as bad. He’d only lost her once. He kept losing people to the dungeon.

“I know. It’s a truth we all have to confront at some point. Earlier is usually better than later.” She nodded and Alistair placed a hand on his shoulder, leading him to the door.

Tibs stopped and turned. “Can I ask you something?”

“Tibs,” Alistair warned, “we shouldn’t bother Tirania.”

You mean I shouldn’t bother her, Tibs thought. For as much as his teacher respected his abilities, Tibs still felt the man considered him more a child than a Runner.

“It’s alright, Alistair. You did say he has a sharp mind. I’m curious as to what question he has.”

Now Tibs wondered if he should bother with it. Was it going to seem stupid compared to whatever she expected? But he wouldn’t find out by staying quiet. “How did you send your voice to the room we were in?”

“Isn’t it enough that I can do it?” she asked and had that expression Alistair gained when he was challenging Tibs.

“Your element is crystal,” Tibs said. “I don’t see how it would let you do it.” he thought about what he knew. “Maybe if you had air, I could see how you used that to send your voice to another room, and maybe there are other elements that can do it, I just don’t see how crystal does it.”

She chuckled. “You were not wrong about his mind, Alistair. You’re right about my element and that it can’t send my voice to another location.” She reached into a drawer and pulled an amulet from it. Unlike the one in Tibs’s pouch, it was an intricate design of filaments that seemed to be gold and silver around a blue stone.

“You know about tracing now.” She held it up between them. “This is a far more advanced application of it. Think of it as similar to some of the things the dungeon makes, but we made it.”

He bit back the realization; that was an enchanted stone. “And it sent your voice to the room?” Now he regretted knowing about it. He wanted to hold it, try to understand how the essences were interwoven.

“No, this sends my voice to your mind. I didn’t have to know where you were. You could be anywhere in town—”

“Or so much further,” Alistair whispered, not masking his annoyance.

“And you would have heard it.”

“Oh.”

She chuckled and put it away. “That is an appropriate response. You’ll come across much more impressive items in your life, Tibs. Dungeons make things far more complex.”

He nodded. He had no reason to doubt her. Like him, the dungeon here was young. Only months old, maybe? Even before it graduated, it gave him his shoes and pouch. What else would it make as it grew more powerful?

“Is it true some noble had the town called Kraggle Rock?”

This time her chuckle sounded mocking. “It is.”

“Why didn’t you name it yourself? You made it after all.”

She considered him. “I will simply tell you it is political, and you will have to work out what that means on your own.” She smiled. “Give that sharp mind of yours something other to consider than how to steal my gem.”

He smiled back. “I can think of more than one thing at once.”

She laughed. “Oh Tibs, that is one thing you don’t want to try to steal. Especially now that I know your interest in it.”

He shrugged. “I won’t then.” She only laughed harder as Alistair escorted him out of her office.

“I can’t tell if you are playing a dangerous game, Tibs, or have managed to impress her.”

Tibs shrugged. It wasn’t like he could control how she reacted to what he said.

“Still, don’t make the mistake of thinking Tirania is your ally. Her only interest is the guild. Every decision she makes is to make the guild stronger.”

Tibs considered that as they walked through the town. Did he consider anyone allies here? His team, Alistair, and Bardik, although he suspected that the Darkness Rogue would only be an ally while they had similar goals, or at least not opposing ones.

“I wish you luck, Tibs,” Alistair said, at the foot of the steps. “Tirania will call for me when you’re ready for your test. You can go there and practice, but remember that being able to shatter the sphere on your own doesn’t count. You need to be able to do it while I and other instructors watch.”

Tibs nodded, moving out of the way of a group stepping down. “So I have to be able to do it only with my reserve.”

“Yes. But I trust that you will master what I taught you and impress them all.” He placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know I wished you luck, Tibs, but don’t count on it. Luck isn’t real, no matter what those scholars claim. Be safe, be smart, and make sure your team is as strong as you are.”

Tibs watched his teacher step onto the platform, wondering if he’d just given him permission to teach his team what Alistair had taught him? If he did, it would give each of them an advantage over the other Runners, but Alistair had previously forbidden him to teach it.

He rubbed his temple. Why couldn’t they just say what they meant? Now he was going to need ale to make the headache go away.