“Alright, everyone!” Jackal called with a grin and satisfied rubbing of the hands. “Here’s how this is going to go.” He looked at the people assembled on the archery field and Tibs had to be impressed as he followed his gaze.

There had only been eight names on the paper Tandy gave him, and Tibs hadn’t realized they were the names of the team leaders and not just the Runners interested in participating. Jackal had scratched two names off, and now nine teams were assembled on the field, Including his, Pyan’s, and the one Mez had suggested.

“This is a fight to the last person,” Jackal continued. “You can make alliances, but there aren’t any teams. Pyan said you’ve all been training as teams already, so there’s no point in doing that now. And what’s more fun than being able to punch the teammate you usually have to watch the back of, right?”

There were a few sideways looks, smiles, and Runners stepping away from said smilers.

“Only a fighter considers a free-for-all fun,” the archer who was now next to Tibs commented. She was tall and lanky. Melody, if Tibs remembered right. He hadn’t done any runs with her, but Mez knew her and had mentioned her a few times. His archer stood with Tandy.

“If you end up on your back, you are out,” Jackal said. “I trust you to honor that. Again, this is for fun. There aren’t going to be any winners or losers unless one of you decides to ruin this for the rest of us.”

“There’s always a winner,” the woman to Tibs’s left said with a roll of the eyes. Anahita was an earth sorceress Tibs had done a run with, but they hadn’t had any interactions after that.

“If you draw blood, you’re out,” Jackal continued over the muttered denials. “I hate to say it again, but this is for the fun of it, not to settle scores. Before you ask; if you break someone’s limbs, I will personally break two of yours. Better be damned sure it’s worth it because you won’t get a cleric to heal you until you go into the dungeon. That’s a lot of time to be in pain, not to say of what the others will do to you after I’m done with you. Remember, us Runners are a vindictive bunch.”

“You know,” the man—boy, really. He was only a few years older than Tibs—said, “I heard Jackal managed to take over anything he’s involved in, but I thought Pyan had enough personality to stand up to him. She’s the one who came up with this idea after all.” He stood close enough to Melody Tibs figured they were on the same team.

He didn’t reply. Probably because she’d been the one to approach most of the other teams, they seemed to think this was happening because of her, when she’d just found all the other teams to add after Mez mentioned another team wanted into the training. If Jackal hadn’t brought up training with Pyan’s team, none of this would have happened, Tibs was sure of that.

Jackal looked them over again. “Does anyone have questions before the fun starts?” hands immediately went up. It looked to Tibs like everyone had a question. Jackal ran a hand over his face. “Anyone have questions I’ll actually be able to answer?” half the hands dropped. Tibs saw people whispering to some with hands still up and those went down too.

“Vol,” Jackal said, pointing to a bulky man with dark skin and long hair, wearing leather armor.

“How did you pull this off?” The man indicated the field. “This is for archery. And any training is supposed to happen under strict supervision. I’m not seeing any trainers here.”

“Like they’d let us bash one another,” A woman replied and laughter erupted around her.

Jackal smiled. “I called in some favors. When that wasn’t enough, I pointed out to the people who matter that since the guild wants us to be strong for when the dungeon eats us. Fighting among us serves them too.”

The people who matter had to be Harry, since as leader of the guard, he was responsible for the peace in the town, to the point he was merciless about enforcing the no-fighting rule. How had Jackal convinced him this was okay?

“One last thing. This is a training exercise, so it needs to remain contained in this field. Hopefully, you noticed the people in black and green on your way here. They will be more than happy to escort anyone caught fighting outside this field to one of the cells. I’m told they are really not comfortable. Hard Knuckles agreed to let this take place on the field, nowhere else.”

“Doesn’t the no bleeding rule render us archers useless?” a man asked as Jackal caught his breath. “Even a blunt tip’s going to rip through someone.”

“Then get used to fighting without arrows,” another man replied. Geoff stepped to the front. “For those of you who haven’t seen the second floor you, you aren’t going to be able to always depend on your arrows. Now’s the time to get used to that instead of when the dungeon has some of his creatures going for your neck. It’s got those—”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Geoff,” Jackal said. “There’s still a rule preventing us from talking about the dungeon out here.” He indicated the two guards closest to the field. “They hear you reveal stuff, and you’ll get to enjoy Hard Knuckles’ hospitality.” He looked the assembled people over again. “Yes, we are Runners. The guild assigned us classes, but you’ve all lived enough before arriving here to know we can’t let the guild limit what we learn. The dungeon and the world are unpredictable. To survive either, we all need to know more than what we’re being taught. This training is a nice and safe—someone snorted—environment for you to discover what your weaknesses are and then seek to learn how to overcome them.”

“When do we start?” a woman called plaintively.

“Now sounds about good,” Jackal replied.

Tibs dropped as surprise coursed through the crowd. He knew Jackal well and had prepared for something like this. His friend couldn’t help trying to do something unexpected. Tibs kicked the legs out of the man behind him and ran off before that fighter realized he was on his back or his friend could react.

No blood meant no knives, so this was about his wits and nimbleness. The arrow in the ground brought him to a stop, and he threw himself sideways just before the ground erupted. That had been lucky. He needed to get used to feeling the essence around him shift. The extra warning could be the difference between going down now or lasting most of the training.

“That was cheating,” the sorceress called as Tibs rolled to his feet. Next to her, the archer was notching another arrow.

“Rogue,” he replied, looking around for the rest of her team. “It’s what we do.”

“Well,” the woman said, and continued under her breath. “This is what I do.” She moved her fingers, leaving essence behind in the air.

Tibs would love to watch what she traced, ask questions about it, like was tracing something sorcerers learned early, or if it was just that her teacher had a similar disregard for the guild’s teaching method his had. But that would mean sticking around to be subject to the effects.

Her yelped of surprise made Tibs pause and turn to watch her land on her back, the tracing disrupted. The archer who had stood next to her grinned as she finished sweeping her bow. He made a wide circle while neither was paying attention to him.

“You were helping me!” she yelled at him in disbelief. “He tricked Ruppert!”

The archer shrugged. “Like he said, he’s a rogue. How could I not take advantage of the distraction while you focused on him?” She wagged her fingers. “You’re out, so no more magic. Put the hands down.”

“That is so unfair,” the sorceress grumbled.

“It’s every woman for herself in—” she yelled as Tibs barreled into the back of her knees.

“Don’t let your win distract you from the ongoing fight,” he said as he rolled away.

“Serves you right.” The sorceress smirked.

Tibs didn’t stick around for the rest. He didn’t expect to win; brawls weren’t his place. Fights weren’t his thing, but the dungeon was training him well. If he wanted to last, he needed to stay on the move, take advantage of every opportunity as it presented itself. Surprise was his asset.

Soon enough, only those able to pay attention to their entire surroundings would still fight.

He ducked as he felt essence shift; air, shaping into a cylinder at head height. Air was too popular as an element for him to guess who that was, or even locate someone in the act of creating it. Everyone moved, breaking line-of-sight, and he wasn’t good enough yet to trace the shifting back to his origin. Yet another thing to add to his exercises.

The click-clack of wood against wood caught Tibs’s attention. He saw Khumdar block a bow strike with his staff, but not be fast enough to avoid the next one in the back of the knee. Tibs changed direction as the cleric fell on his back.

His teammate was out, but that didn’t mean Tibs couldn’t exact retribution. Geoff spun and Tibs barely dropped to avoid the bow swing aimed at where his head had been.

“You aren’t as sneaky as you like to think, Tibs,” the archer said, backing away and spinning his bow the way Khumdar had his staff.

“I’m not sneaking during the day,” Tibs replied. “I counted on you being distracted.”

Geoff smiled. “There’s a lot I can do with Crystal.”

Tibs nodded. It was what Alistair had made him realize. Essence’s only real limit was what you could come up with. Which made it suck even more for him, since anything impressive or particularly useful required a lot more essence than he had access to. Training on the essences he’d gained was difficult since Jackal and Carina didn’t know how to work with barely anything, and the one essence he had a lot of, he only knew how to do one thing, and he didn’t want to risk draining that out of someone. The dungeon creature fell into rubble when they died. People wouldn’t.

“You can't win against me, Tibs,” Geoff said, swinging his bow.

Tibs dodged two of them, then ran in the opposite direction, waving without looking back and smiling at the expletive the archer was yelling. Running away was a valid battle tactic as far as Tibs was concerned.

He picked the legs out of two combatants as he ran by their fight. The crown was thinning enough he was feeling better about his odds to be among the last. It would be nice to stand against—his leg was yanked back and Tibs fell face first in the trampled grass. He rolled on his back, fist raised, ready to take on whoever had gotten the drop on him.

“And you’re out,” a man said as he approached, coiling rope around his arm. Tibs glanced at his leg while trying to place him; the end was wrapped around his ankle.

“Radkliff?” he asked as he remembered the rogue. He searched the ground, trying to figure out where the loop of rope could have been hidden. The man had fire as his element, not something that could hide a trap.

“I hope this isn’t going to make you hate me more.” The rogue crouched and loosed the loop of rope before pulling it odd Tibs’s foot.

“I don’t hate you,” he replied. “I didn’t then either. I was just angry, and you were convenient.”

Radkliff sat next to him, resting the rope on his lap. “I’m glad to hear that. I wish learning not to be such a show-off hadn’t come at that high of a price.”

Tibs shrugged. “Someone would have died. It’s what the dungeon does. Aren’t you going to keep fighting?”

The man shook his head. “I can’t win. It’s going to be a fighter or a sorcerer who wins this. I saw you running around, taking people out before they even realized you were there. I figured that if I could take you down, I’d call it my personal win and be satisfied.”

“What’s that?” Tibs asked, pointing to the rope.

“It’s a lasso. It’s a tool, back home. It’s used to catch animals so we can bring them back and sell them.” He looked at it. “If I hadn’t been greedy and too full of myself, I’d be earning a living using this, instead of catching you.”

“You didn’t have that during the run.”

Radcliff snorted. “The guild wouldn’t give me rope. I’m a rogue. It’s a knife that I have to train with. I also couldn’t afford any. Also, I don’t know if it would have been useful. There isn’t much to catch with this on the first floor. This is the first time I’ve gotten to practice with it since buying it.”

“What were you greedy about?”

The rogue shrugged. “Money, same as most people. I didn’t need it, but I thought it was easier to make it that way. It was, at first. I’m an okay thief, but I got overconfident. Do they chop off your hand for thievery where you’re from?”

Tibs nodded.

“That was going to be the death of me. I can’t wrangle anything using this if I only have one hand.”

“You got the dungeon instead.”

Radkliff smiled. “And fire. Your eyes are still brown.”

“Still too young.” The lie was a natural answer by now.

“You’ve survived this long with barely any essence. I’m not worried about you, Tibs.”

Tibs smiled. “I have a good team; I’m not too worried myself. How is your team?”

“Not here.” The rogue’s expression fell. “The team I was on before this one wasn’t great. We got together out of desperation because of that five people rule. There was a lot of arguing, screaming. I nearly got crushed on the bridge and they were considering leaving me there with my injuries. We broke up once we exited. I found another team but…” he sighed. “At least there’s structure with this one. We know what our jobs are, even if the team leader’s not exactly great.”

“I’m sorry.”

Radkliff shrugged. “Not every team is a good mix of people like yours and Pyan’s teams are. Most of us have to make do with who we found. A lot of the teams who were forced to form because of the new rules are like that.”

Tibs nodded. He hadn’t really noticed. “Why isn’t your team here, if you are?”

The rogue smiled. “I crashed the party. My team leader wouldn’t have anything to do with something like this. I overheard people talking. Decided to check it out. Heard Jackal explain things, and it was easy to mix in with the crowd. Hey Tandy,” Radkliff greeted the person who sat on Tibs’s other side before he turned.

“Rady, Tibs,” the other rogue answered. “How were you taken out?”

Tibs smiled. “He took us both out.”

She looked at Radkliff and chuckled. “I think that if you fall in the act of taking someone down, you’re allowed to get back up.”

“I didn’t see a point to it,” Radkliff answered. He indicated the red mark across her forehead. “How were you taken down?”

She sighed. “Felled my by own teammate.”

“Geoff?” Tibs thought the mark could be from the bow.

“Amid. I had no idea he could make wood grown out of the ground. I tripped on it and hit my head on another branch he had growing.” She touched her forehead. “He was so embarrassed. If I hadn’t been out, it would have been easy to take advantage while he apologized.”

“Who do you think will win?” Radkliff asked.

“One of the fighters,” she answered, just before a thunderclap sounded.

“Do not ignore me!” Carina yelled in the following silence, glaring at a man sprawled on the ground.

Tibs looked around and grinned as he saw no one else standing. “We have a winner,” he told the two with him.

“Not who I expected,” Tandy said in awe.

Carina looked around her and noticed what Tibs had. She seemed embarrassed about it, instead of happy as fighters around her slowly got to their feet. One of them was Jackal.

“Is there going to be a round two?” Radkliff asked, pulling Tibs to his feet.

“Who’s ready for round two?” Jackal yelled.

“That would be a yes,” Tandy said.

As everyone got to their feet, Tibs wondered how long they’d be doing this. There hadn’t been a set time. He eyed the fighter encouraging everyone, then the sun still nowhere near its zenith. If Jackal got his way, this would go on until it was too dark to see, or Harry put an end to it.

* * * * *

Tibs followed the woman.

He’d rather be in bed. The battle had been two days ago, and he was still sore from it. Several people he’d surprised in the first fight took their revenge during the following ones. Harry put an end to it near sunset, although by then half the teams had already left.

He’d still gotten up in the middle of this afternoon for his practice with the letters, his essence, and he’d been on his way to find a house to train on when he’d noticed her and decided that until it was dark enough, he’d practice following without being seen instead. He’d only started and felt it was going well.

She rounded on him. “Can I help you, kid?” The leather tube swung on its strap over her shoulder and nearly hit Tibs in the face. So, maybe he needed a lot more practice at doing this. “Well?” she demanded.

“What are you carrying?” he asked. He’d been caught, so he could satisfy his curiosity. It had been why he’d picked her after all. Although he had planned to surprise her with his question.

“Why do you want to know?” She sounded annoyed more than worried or angry.

He smiled. “I’m a kid. I’m curious.”

She looked him over, took in his armor, and smirked. “You’re a runner, not a kid.”

“You called me that first,” he pointed out.

She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m carrying. If I did know, I couldn’t tell you. It’s in the contract.”

“Contract?”

She looked up, located the sun, and sighed. “If I answer that, will it satisfy you, or are you going to have more questions for me?”

“Probably more questions. I don’t know a lot and asking questions helps me learn.”

“There are more important things for you to learn about than what I do,” he said.

He smiled again. “I’ll get to them later. You’re here now.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “How many people have you driven to distractions with your questions?”

Tibs considered it. He decided to ignore his team. They were used to him. Kroseph and the inn, since answering questions was something they seem to do all the time. He ignored Bardik and Harry because they were adults and it was their job to help him learn. The guards just didn’t count. That only left one person.

“My teacher likes that I’m curious.”

“Teachers do; it’s their jobs.” She sighed. “Come on. I need to sit down for this and you’re paying for the ale.”

She went to the closest tavern; the Broken Tankard. Tibs bought them each an ale, and they found a table.

“Do you know what a contract it is? She asked.

He shook his head. “Only that it’s something the guild and town elders use. The sorceress on my team knows about them.”

“Then why aren’t you asking her?” She sipped the ale, watching him.

“Because she uses every question I ask as a reason to give me lessons on the letters.” He sipped from his tankard. “How hard was it for you to learn your letters?”

“I learned them a lot earlier than you are. Everyone in my family reads and writes, so it came naturally. You need to know them to deal with contracts. The contract is what explains what you have to do. In my case, I have to take this.” She patted the leather tube resting against her leg. “To a specific location. I can’t open it or talk about what’s in it with anyone. Once it’s delivered, I have to bring the receipt token back to the office where I was given this.”

“Where are you taking it?”

She thought about it. “A store called Caravan Garden in—”

“Merchant Row,” Tibs said. “I know it. They sell a lot of different things.”

“And this might be one of them,” she said. “A lot of merchants get their supplies this way.”

“You came from the transport platform. Isn’t that expensive?”

“Haven’t you used it?” she asked. “Or do they force you, Runners, to walk all the way from the town you came from?”

“I used it when they brought us here, and whole the dungeon closed. But I didn’t have to pay.”

“I don’t either. I have a messenger token. I show that to the attendants and they take me where I need to go.”

“Can I see it?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, kid. That’s something else my contract keeps me from talking about.”

Tibs nodded and sensed her essence. Her eyes were a normal brown, so he knew she didn’t have an element, but if something prevented her from talking, that should leave a trace. Instead, it was the leather tube that was woven through with essence. Air and earth, but much more of other essences he couldn’t tell apart.

“What happens if you don’t do what the contract says?”

“I lose my job, to start with. If I do it to steal what’s in it, I’m going to be hunted like the thief I am.” She paused, drank while she thought. “If it’s something small, like divulging information, they might let me pay some form of reparation.”

“How would they know?” Tibs asked. “Is there magic that tells them?” He knew better than to assume that because he didn’t sense something woven through her, it wasn’t there.

She chuckled. “That’s probably a thing, but not in this case. If I talked too much, eventually someone would tell my employer. You can always count on someone being willing to rat you out for a copper or two.

“So the contract isn’t magic?”

She laughed. “Not with essence, if that’s what you mean. It’s just words on paper. The power comes from the people behind my group, and how they can enforce the rules. They’re rich enough to pay guild rates to have adventurers track down someone if they feel like it. Wealth is their power, not magic.”

“Nobles,” Tibs grumbled, then drank to wash the taste of the word away.

“Businesses,” she said. “Some are owned by nobles, but not all of them. The Messengers are owned by a large group of merchants. It’s why most of what we do is get stuff to merchants.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Other people than nobles have wealth?”

“Of course. The merchants in this town are wealthy. I doubt many of them are nobles.”

“But they don’t go around acting like they’re better than me; like they own the town.”

“Not all nobles do that.” She raised a hand to forestall his protest. “I grant you more are, but noble is a title. It usually comes from wealth, but it doesn’t have to. Someone can gain it through hard work. Those kinds of nobles tend to be more sensitive to other people.”

Tibs considered her words. Did that mean he couldn’t go by the house and clothing the new people joining the town had to determine if they were nobles? Everyone who’d come since the dungeon reopened looked like a noble, but now he remembered the archery trainer mentioning some people he taught only having enough money to pay to come here. He rubbed his temple. Answers were supposed to simplify things.

“I take it I’ve satisfied your curiosity?” she asked with a chuckle.

“No,” he answered bitterly. “But I’ve learned enough new things for now. I need time to let his pain go away.”

“That’s the pain of a stretching mind,” she said. She grinned as he glared at her and finished her ale. “Thanks for the drink, kid.”

“My name’s Tibs.”

“Then we are well met. I’m Anjika. Keep stretching your mind, Tibs.” She placed the strap over her shoulder as she stood. “Eventually, once it’s large enough, things will become simpler.”

Tibs snorted as he took a long swallow from his tankard. Not if his mind exploded before that happened.