Sto’s laughter turned maniacal.

“You are doing this on purpose,” Tibs said through clenched teeth. Carina glanced at him as she made notes on the map.

“Me?” Sto snickered. “It’s just a few rats.” More snickering. “Not even upgraded from upstairs.”

“You know how much I hate them.”

“How would I—” Sto stated, sounding innocent, but stopped as Tibs glared at the ceiling.

“You can see and hear everything in here. You know how I feel about those things.”

Sto was quiet, then offered. “I’m just trying to help you get over your fear of rats?” He snickered again.

“I’m not afraid!” Tibs snapped. “I hate them, and that’s your fault.”

“I?”

“Tibs,” Jackal said, cutting off Sto. “We good?”

Tibs nodded and squared his shoulders. He’d show the dungeon he wasn’t afraid of any rats. “I’m dealing with the rats.”

The fighter looked at the room, then Tibs. “That’s a lot of them. Are you sure?” he raised his hands at the glare Tibs gave him. “Okay, you’re dealing with the rats. Mez, Carina, can each of you keep one of them busy?”

“I can destroy one right now,” Mez stated.

“Will you have anything left to work with after that?”

The archer hesitated, then shook his head.

“Then I’d rather you just keep it busy so you have enough essence for the next room. We got lucky last time.” He turned to the cleric, who slowly spun his staff before him. Darkness trailed at each end.

“I will be more useful this time. This staff is attuned to my element.” He looked at Tibs. “It was a fortunate find.”

Sto snorted. “I’m so glad Ganny’s busy elsewhere. I’d never hear the end of it.”

Tibs didn’t ask what that was about. He was angry at the dungeon.

Jackal nodded. “Alright, Mez, Carina. Start us off.”

Tibs ran into the room in time with the first explosion. Flames covered his knife as he sliced the closest rat. It cost him essence, but the shriek of pain that came from it before it dissolved was satisfying. He stabbed the next one, cut a third, then a fourth.

“Tibs, down,” Mez called.

He dropped. There was an explosion not far. Then he was up, skewering the rat who’d thought that had meant Tibs was too distracted to notice it climbing on his leg. He flung it aside, threw the knife at the one heading for Khumdar, and turned, pulling his air knife without watching if he hit. He cut two rats with one swing. One landed on his back—big by the weight—and with a scream, he reached back, grabbed it and slammed it on the ground over and over until another rat was on him and he had to deal with that.

* * * * *

Tibs panted, looking around for that snarling rat, only to realize he was the one snarling. There were no rats left; only copper coins littered across the floor. The golems were rubble, and Carina pulled an amulet from that.

“This is new,” she said, examining it. “First time we get something other than coins from one of them.”

“The others didn’t drop anything,” Jackal replied, disappointed, as he pushed rubble aside with a foot.

“Tibs.” Khumdar offered him his knife back. “Are you well?”

He nodded, taking it. Where were the rats? There had to be more. There were always more rats. Memories of being swarmed by them made him shudder.

“Maybe I went too far,” Sto commented, and Tibs snarled.

“Tibs?” Khumdar asked.

“I’m fine!” he snapped.

“I want you to breathe, Tibs.”

“I’m—” He realized his lungs hurt. He took a shuddering breath, and as he let it out, he found he continued shaking. There had been so many rats. But he killed them. “I’m okay,” he said, and even to him, he sounded better. The cleric smiled.

“Twenty-four coppers,” Carina said, offering them to him. They went into his pouch. He didn’t bother making sure they were all there. What was one or two copper less after all? “And one amulet. If there’s another one in the Ratling village, that’ll be two for this run.”

“There might not be,” Tibs said, adding it to his pouch. “The chests have random stuff in them.” He paused. Ganny was busy elsewhere. Maybe Sto wouldn’t be as strict with the rules? “But I think that if we’d want anything at this point, it would be a bow for Mez. I already have an amulet.”

“Armor’s always nice,” Jackal said. “Tibs, what’s with only one of the golem giving us loot?”

“You’re going to use me to try and get more out of the dungeon, aren’t you?” He glared at the innocent look the fighter gave him.

“Tell him that the Whippers are one unit and that I—” Sto stopped. “Right, this is Jackal. Tell him the amulet is worth much more than the silver each normally drops.”

Tibs groaned. “I’m going to be stuck between you two.” He rubbed his temple. “Jackal’s not going to be happy until he gets more, and you’re not going to give it because of the rules. I really wish you could just argue with him directly.”

“I’m not talking with it,” Jackal said, and Tibs looked at him in disbelief. “I don’t want to piss it off. With you as a buffer, my skill at dealing with other people is so much better.”

“Says the man who seems to get everyone to talk to him,” Carina said.

“That’s because of the power of ale,” Jackal replied. “Enough of it and I become a very likable fellow. Can I get the dungeon drunk, Tibs?”

“There are days I wish I could,” Sto replied. Tibs shook his head. “Okay, let’s give this a try. Feel free to dumb it down for him, Tibs.” He paused. “I’ve put the five Whippers in this room on the randomized loot assignment list, but they are treated as one creature. The list is set up so you’ll get a bunch of minor items or coins more often, but you can get one item of similar value, and also a small chance you’ll get something more valuable than the rest.”

“It’s random,” Tibs said once he was sure Sto was done. “Sometimes it’ll be coins, sometimes small stuff, sometimes bigger stuff.” He wasn’t mentioning the possibility of something valuable. It would just cause Jackal to plan ways of fighting them more often.

“You mentioned there are rules,” Khumdar said. “Are those set by the dungeon?”

Sto snorted. “I wish.”

“No.”

“Moving on!” Jackal said. “If there isn’t going to be more loot here, there are some with the Ratlings.”

The tent encampment was much the same. Tents in small clusters with a campfire at the center. Tibs hadn’t appreciated how large the cavern was the previous time. He could only just make out the other side around some tents. The direct path was also gone.

“I take it we want all the chests,” Mez said, and Jackal stared at the man. “Last time Tibs mentioned the chests change tents. That means we have to kill the Ratlings.”

“That’s why they’re there,” Jackal said.

“Is it?” Tibs asked, and the other looked at him. He waited; there was only one person with the answer.

“It sort of is,” Sto answered. “Why else would they be there?”

“So they can live?”

“They aren’t alive, Tibs,” Sto replied. “They’re just creatures.”

He nodded. “It is,” he told Jackal.

Carina looked at the encampment. “Being able to talk with the dungeon might make this more complicated. What happens when it makes something and it evolves into its own person?”

“They can do that?” Sto and Mez asked at the same time.

Carina shrugged. “If dungeons can evolve into thinking beings, why not their creations?”

“I didn’t—oh, I get what she’s thinking. You can tell her she’s wrong.”

Tibs didn’t. Telling her she was wrong would lead to her asking how that was, and he’d be in the middle of another discussion. “How about we deal with the Ratlings instead? We can sneak around as long as we can, taking them as we find them.”

“Only you do sneaky, Tibs,” Jackal said.

“I think I can manage something,” Carina said.

Tibs looked at the cleric.

“I am afraid that I am better at rooting secrets than I am at hiding myself.”

“Then the three of us head for the center in as straight a line as we can,” Jackal said. “We kill those we find and just make noise to attract the rest while you two do the sneaking to find the chests so we—”

“No,” Tibs said, while Carina glared at the fighter. “We look for the chests after all the Ratlings are dead. Me and Carina will kill those who stay behind to attack at range or are just slow to reach you. I came across a few of them last time. It’s not like the chests are going to vanish while we fight.”

“Hmmmmm,” Sto said.

Tibs sighed. “That might change next time. We keep giving him ideas.”

“If you want an idea, dungeon,” Jackal said. “More rewards for the fights is a great one.”

Sto chuckled. “I’ll take that under advisement. Don’t look so down, Tibs. Everyone gives me ideas. You just know when I get one.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Jackal raised his hand, and Tibs looked into the cavern. When no Ratlings were visible, the fighter motioned them ahead. He, Mez, and Khumdar stepped between the tents in front of them while Carina motioned to herself and then to her left.

Tibs nodded. He didn’t like letting her go alone; she’d remained with the others last time. She knew what she was capable of. Tibs headed to the right.

The first tent was empty, as were the others around this campfire. He planned to clear each small camp along the periphery. When he met up with Carina, they could go help the others. Any Ratling left hiding in the tents could be dealt with afterward.

When the fighting started, he forced himself to continue. They were all Upsilon, and they had already survived this cavern, even not knowing what to expect. The three of them would be fine.

In the fourth camp, he found a Ratling in a tent, working around a cauldron. Like other Ratlings, it had hide for clothing, but no weapons. It also had its back to him. He snuck behind and, just as he was about to slit its throat, it screeched and bucked, getting only a nick before turning on Tibs and raking his armor with its claws. He shouldered it away as two other Ratlings, identical in all ways he could see, entered.

He moved to keep them away, bumping into the cauldron, which tipped over and spilled nothing. He set aside the question of why it had been stirring nothing and focused on getting outside. He needed more space to fight them. Unfortunately, anytime he had them maneuvered away from the opening, one of them hurried to get back there. Even rushing didn’t cause the Ratling to flee. They exchanged a few blows; he gave it some cuts and Tibs had to back away as the others joined in.

He reminded himself they weren’t alive. He shouldn’t expect from them the reaction he would from people. They weren’t afraid of getting hurt. They existed to kill him. The fact they’d been left behind indicated Sto wanted them to deal with rogues. Tibs wasn’t the first one to go around, making sure no one could surprise his team.

How many hadn’t survived their encounters?

He slashed, and as they moved away, he rushed the exit. This time, Tibs stabbed the Ratling that came at him, and it grabbed onto his hand, keeping him from pulling it out and it backed away from the exit. Before he could pull his other knife, another grabbed that hand. Tibs kicked at it, and it let go, but his knife was no longer in its sheath. The third Ratling jumped on his back, claws raking at his chest and neck. Then they caught in a joint. It started pulling, trying to peel the armor off him.

The Ratling came back to grab his free hand, and Tibs shouldered it away. He then focussed on dislodging the Ratling on his back, pulling the claws out of the joint. When it came free, he barely kept it from raking his face. Tibs screamed in fear and frustration. Then the Ratling fell off his back, and the one with a knife on its chest finally turned to rubble, freeing him completely.

He turned, looking to stab another Ratling, but it was a pile of rubble too. He sensed his reserve and knew what had happened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“I know,” Sto replied. “I’m not worried about those two. It’s the third one that concerns me.”

He spun, readying himself for an attack. But that Ratling was also rubble.

“I thought you needed to touch them to drain their essence.”

The pile was five paces away. “I thought so too. I’ve never done this before.” He didn’t know what he’d done. He hadn’t thought about doing it. He’d been terrified of those claws; then the Ratlings were dead.

“Go help your friends, Tibs. I need to talk with Ganny about this, so I won’t be watching the rest.”

Tibs collected his knives and ran out of the tent.

* * * * *

Tibs only got to kill one more Ratling. One that had seemed to sneak around to get behind his friends. Carina had already reached them, and there was enough rubble Tibs wondered how they were going to find the coins among it.

“What kept you?” Jackal asked, grinning. “This was fun.”

“I got jumped,” Tibs replied.

“Are you okay?” the fighter asked, all levity gone. He looked at Tibs armor. “Are you bleeding? Is that something you can heal?”

“I’m not bleeding, and I don’t know. Is everyone okay?” He looked them over, sensing the essence coursing through them, instead of waiting for answers. Mez was the only one with an injury that registered in the essence, and Tibs went to him. The cuts were superficial. “What happened?” The archer favored his left leg.

“One of the Ratling was armed with a club and surprised me. It’s got in one shot before I could hit it with my bow.” He showed him the broken bow. “I don’t think it’s broken, but I can’t put much weight on it.”

Tibs nodded. The essence didn’t have the jagged breaks that echoed a broken bone. This was like a bubble formed in the leg and pushed against the essence. Was that bruising, or another kind of injury he wasn’t familiar with? He pushed his essence in the leg, and wrapped it like he did with broken bones, then as gently as he could, he tightened it back into its proper shape.

Mez hissed, then. “Stop. Tibs, stop. This is hurting worse.”

He relaxed his essence, then hardened it in place. “Sorry. I don’t know how this works. Does this help?”

Mez put weight on his leg, then nodded. “It just feels sore now. So long as I don’t have to run, I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

“The cleric will take care of the rest when we leave.” Tibs stood.

They separated and went over the tents, and as Tibs had hoped, one contained a bow. It was made of dark wood and encrusted with gems. It was imbued with fire essence, earth and others.

Mez held it with awe and reverence. “Jackal, I have to keep this. I’ll repay the team however I can. You can’t imagine how deep the reserve in this bow is. I’ll never have to worry about running out when I’m using it.”

Jackal looked at what was left of the other bow. “Is there anything that we have to keep from this run? If Mez has to use that bow, we’re going to have to pay for it.” The encampment’s loot consisted of several pieces of armor, three of which had essence woven through them. One was made of metal instead of leather. There was a knife sheath like the one Francis had, which fitted a short sword. And a few silvers as well as a pile of coppers.

“We should keep the amulet,” Carina said. “For Tibs.”

“I have an amulet,” he replied, studying the way the essence was woven into the sheath.

“But this lets you store another element’s essence,” she said. “You should see about getting one for each of your elements.”

Tibs nodded.

“Alright,” Jackal called. “Then, if Mez can make it through the rest of the run without using the bow, we’ll see how expensive it is.”

“We could turn around now,” the archer said.

“More loot is waiting,” Jackal replied. “If Tibs gets to keep the amulet that’s great, otherwise, he’ll wait until the next run.” Everyone agreed, and they loaded the pieces of armor they could into the backpacks and had to carry the rest in their arms.

“Maybe the dungeon should give us special packs,” Jackal said, “like those chests, bigger inside than out.” He looked at Tibs expectantly.

“The dungeon’s dealing with something. He only hears us when he’s paying attention.”

“He didn’t see the fight?” Jackal asked, dismayed.

“He had to go partially through it.”

“But it was such a great fight.”

They reached the next room and stopped.

“This can’t be good,” Carina said.

The cavern was similar in size to the one they’d just left, but it was empty. It was a flat, bare floor and walls.

“Do you think it’s a trap room?” Mez asked.

“That’s a big room for traps,” Jackal said.

Tibs crouched at the edge and looked at it. He didn’t think there were traps. It didn’t have the right feel, but he couldn’t explain what that meant. Traps didn’t come with signs, and if essence was used here, it wasn’t any different from the rest of the floor. So why his certainty?

Then he noticed it. He wasn’t actively sensing for his essence, the one that coursed through people and dungeon creatures, but it was there, under the floor. As he focused on what he felt, a section of the floor lifted and a nose poked out, twitching. Then a hand, fingers curling around the edge to push it out of the way.

A head poked out.

“Is that a bunny?” Jackal asked in surprise. It looked like one. Long ears, large eyes, small muzzle, all made of stone, just like everyone creature in the dungeon. This one was much larger than the bunnies on the first floor.

“How many do you think are under the floor?” Mez asked.

“I’d guess this is going to be like the Ratlings,” Jackal said. “I guess you’re keeping the bow after all.”

Mez smiled.

“Do we really want to take them on without knowing how many there are?” Carina said, looking at the map. “We can wait until another team’s tried it.”

Tibs stood and unsheathed his knives. “They’re bunnies. How tough can they be?”