Tibs crouched on the roof, looking at the others, and only seeing shapes in the faint light Claria provided. Getting up there had been an adventure, with the constant worry the corruption in his essence would make a hand, arm, or leg seize up and cause him to fall to his death. The last time he’d had to take climbing a wall this slow was so long ago that he only remembered he had felt that same worry he experienced on this climb.

And the same wonder, once he stood on the roof, looking at the expanse of other roofs stretching further than he could see. That had been why he’d done it again and again, until going up a wall was as natural for him as walking along the shadows in an alley.

The wonder was diminished now; Kragle Rock wasn’t a city, so the roofs ended, instead of vanishing in the distance, and he’d seen more wondrous things, like Water herself and the other elements. A mountain stretching so high he lost sight of it in the clouds, or could hardly see the streets and buildings as he looked down from it onto MountainSea.

The sea…

Bardik had mentioned his wonder at watching it, wanting to find out how far it went, what might be hidden there. Tibs understood that feeling. There was so much of it…

There was so much of the world.

Motion in the darkness.

Tibs focused on it, two roofs over. It was gone, lost in the deeper darkness, but he could sense the essence in the Runner, along with the golden tint to it: Tandy.

Except for Muller, the rogues Tibs had talked with had agreed to help him catch this thief that seemed determined to disrupt their quiet town. They’d taken turns watching the nobles’ neighborhoods from the roofs.

The first thing they noticed were the guards the nobles had walking the streets. Mean-looking men and women in armor meant for combat, not for appearing respectable. Tibs had put on his best clothing and walked through the neighborhood to get a sense of them. Only one had an element, metal, and he thought she was Epsilon or Delta.

In the time they had been watching, the thief struck twice, and Blazer nearly caught them before being tripped and sent off the roof. He wasn’t dead but hadn’t woken since, and because of the abyss-cursed rules, no cleric would touch him until it was his team’s time in the dungeon, and then only if the team brought his unconscious form.

Of course, they could pay for one of them to break the rules, even the clerics knew greed, but it wasn’t like Tibs or the other rogues had the kind of gold a cleric would demand, so none of them had wasted time asking.

What the sightings, along with the information Tibs received from Harry on the previous theft, told them was that the thief struck every fourth night. So tonight, one of the houses would be broken into, so five of them were spread throughout the roofs, waiting.

* * * * *

Maybe the thief knew they were there and wouldn’t strike. It was what Tibs would do, once he found out people were after him. Break the pattern, let them exhaust themselves searching while he planned. It wasn’t like he’d be in a hurry if he only stole to hurt and disrupt the town.

He’d finally convinced Darran this thief wasn’t someone deserving of being protected, and the merchant had asked around to the others like him, who weren’t overly particular as to where an item had been obtained and told him that no one had bought anything that could come from a noble’s home.

There was the possibility the thief took what he stole away through the platform to sell in a city. But with how expensive traveling that way was, it would take away a lot of the coins that could be made selling valuables.

And in Kragle Rock, if coins were the goal, there were better items to steal, especially from the nobles. Just one book would get him more coins than any painting done to have a way to look at their family.

No, this was about causing his town problems, so the thief wouldn’t strike now that—

The flash of fire was brief. The signal Radkliff had said he’d give if he saw the thief. He was too far for Tibs to hope to be there on time, with how he needed to be careful, but as with the other two he could see, he moved toward the roof the other rogue was on.

* * * * *

Tibs was halfway there when he heard the commotion. He’d wanted to be further along, but after nearly falling when a twinge in his leg had caused him to panic, he’d forced himself to slow down even more. It hadn’t been the corruption, just the normal not landing quite right, but because corruption was always at the back of his mind that was what he’d thought, and because of that, he had nearly killed himself.

There was a cry of ‘fire’, where he saw a form run away, then the fire was flaying about as Radkliff lost his balance. Tibs hoped he was okay and only hesitated a second before taking off after the fleeing shadow.

The end of the roof approached and Tibs’s steps staggered, but he forced himself to continue and jumped. He wouldn’t make it. The hesitation had cost him the speed he needed. He pushed the panic down and thought through his options. He only had one. He sent the essence ahead of him.

Water formed at the edge of the roof, extending it, then solidified as his foot touched it. He grinned at the solid footing it gave him. He needed to stop limiting what he did with his water, it could do more than simply keep traps from activating, or make water surfaces into ice. In fact…

He sent more essence ahead of him, as he pulled what was behind back into his reserve, and evened out the slope of the roof, allowing him to run faster. When the next roof was in sight, he already knew he couldn’t make the jump, but he kept running and took the leap. At the highest point, he sent water at an angle to the roof, and ran down it, picking up more speed.

He saw the thief, and sensed them at the edge of his range. No element.

Without having to worry about being able to make the jumps, Tibs took a more direct approach toward the thief, closing the too-long gaps between roofs with water.

They were out of the nobles’ neighborhood when the thief noticed him. The roofs were lower, but also closer, making it easier for Tibs to close the distance. Only a few roofs and he would be—

He bit back the cry, as pain lanced up his leg and he fell. He threw water down, made it into ice as slippery as he could, like it was before he learned to take that aspect away, and adjusted its shape so he kept moving toward the thief as he fought against the corruption.

He was never talking with it for this, he promised.

He cursed as he lost speed despite how slippery the ice was, then realized he didn’t have to, shouldn’t let himself, be limited by what his body could do. So what if he couldn’t run at the moment? He could alter the surface he was on.

The water rose behind him, and Tibs was sliding down the newly made slope faster. He forced himself to his feet, favoring the weakened leg.

He was catching up to the thief now. He would have them in a few—

They jumped down the roof and Tibs overshot them.

He maneuvered the water around and tested his leg. The corruption was becoming more manageable. Good. He didn’t want to see what the mix of water and ice he was using over the roofs would do to the building’s walls if he had to keep sliding between them.

He didn’t see the thief as he set foot on the ground and turned the water he didn’t reabsorb into mist. He didn’t need to see them, there were few people out at this time of the night and Tibs still sensed their essence, as flimsy as it was.

They were moving cautiously away from where Tibs was. He followed, choosing silence over speed. They were well inside his range and he could now tell they had nothing on them with essence.

He controlled his glee. He’d seen Cross take on fighters with essence and win. Thinking he was assured a win just because he had an element—multiple —would make him overconfident. That thief had gotten away from Radkliff and Muller. Essence or not, they were good.

When they stopped moving, Tibs continued, but more cautiously. They were inside a house.

This part of the town was newly built, and most houses were unoccupied. They had two floors, so they would be more expensive. There were all sorts of rules about the houses, Carina and Jackal told him, but he’d stopped them the instant the headache started. He didn’t need to know why some larger houses in part of the town cost less than smaller ones in others.

He had his team’s room and that was more than enough for him.

The thief was the only person within Tibs’s range.

He circled the house, studying it. No essence, so no magical defenses, but that left plenty of normal ones.

He tested his leg—the corruption was back to the usual throb—then slowly climbed to the second-story window. He used essence to sense on the inside, and felt the string he couldn’t see. It stretched through the room and connected to something too complex for Tibs to identify, but it had a point, and was pointed at the window.

The window opened inward, so he iced the string in place, then made a shim to undo the latch. He slipped in and closed the window.

The door to exit had another string attached to it, this one leading to a small bag suspended in the air. Opening it would cause the bag to dump out its content. Tibs didn’t think that would be good. He carefully took it down and used the string to tie it securely before putting it in his own pouch.

He cracked the door open, and a candle provided only enough light to cast too many shadows from the wooden boxes that were scattered in the hall. If Tibs couldn’t sense people, he would think the thief had half a dozen of them hiding in there.

He opened the door fully and looked at the item pointed at the window. There were parts of a bow attached to a wooden beam and the arrow was much thicker. A latch held the bowstring taut and connected to a lever.

It was an odd contraption.

He looked at the corridor and the barely visible floor. Interlocking wooden planks. So many ways a trigger could be hidden. Tibs smiled. At least he had ample experience with trapped floors.

He spread a thin coating of water over the floor and hardened it. He didn’t bother sensing for triggers under the floor, this wasn’t about allowing others to follow him. He stepped into the corridor and listened. The only sound was someone moving below him.

He ignored his curiosity as to what was in the boxes and spread air essence to feel tripwires in the shadows. All at floor level. Tibs smiled. This was easy. Even the first triggers on Sto’s second floor were at varying heights.

He stepped over them and reached the stairs. The ground floor had more lights, but also more shadows, from yet more wooden boxes. What was this thief doing with so many boxes? They couldn’t all be to hide traps. They would get in the thief’s way as much as anyone sneaking in.

By the sounds, the thief was eating. So they wouldn’t expect anyone. Even if they knew about essence and adventurers, as far as Tibs knew, he was the only one able to sense people.

He smiled and decided to teach this thief a lesson.

Don’t get in the way, he warned the corruption, then leaped over the stairs and landed on the ground floor. He straightened, opened his mouth, then was throwing himself to the side as a knife flew through where he’d been.

So much for taking them unaware.

“You’re a kid?” The thief asked, surprised. “What are they doing sending a kid after me?”

Tibs looked around the box he’d landed behind, taking out his air knife. “I’m a rogue.” The man was standing behind the table, a knife in each hand. He didn’t have a sword. Maybe they were right and thieves mostly used knives?

“Are you the one with the water that was chasing me?”

“Maybe.”

The man chuckled. “A kid. I thought dungeons ate anyone not strong enough.”

Tibs kept himself from replying. The conclusion seemed obvious to him, but if the thief didn’t reach it, Tibs would enlighten him with more than words. He stood and threw the knife at the man, who moved aside even if the aim was off. At least, with this knife, Tibs didn’t have to worry about how bad his aim was.

With a flick of the hand and a bit of will, the knife changed direction mid-air and sunk into the man’s shoulder.

“Maybe you shouldn’t underestimate me just because I’m younger than you.”

The man looked to be Bardik’s age, with long dark red hair held at his back. His face was long and his eyes were brown. His clothing was light black fabric, for ease of movement and difficulty of being seen on the roofs.

With a snarl, the man threw a knife at Tibs, who used water to intercept it, then stepped forward, absorbing the water. The knife fell.

“You’ve been stealing in my town. You’ve been making the nobles angry on purpose. Why?”

The man threw his other knife and Tibs caught it using water again.

“Because I was paid to do it.” He pulled the knife out of his shoulder and threw it at Tibs. It stopped within arm’s reach. “Fucking magic.”

Tibs plucked the knife out of the air. “Why would someone pay you to cause trouble in my town?”

The man shrugged. “That’s not my business.”

Tibs was almost within striking distance with a knife, and the man didn’t move. Tibs stopped, trying to work out what he was up to.

“I want you to leave.”

The man laughed. “Kid, you can’t afford my rates.”

“Then I’m going to have the guards throw you out.”

“Like they can do anything. I’ve been acting under their nose and not one of them even knows I’m here.”

“They will, when I hand you over to them.”

“So you work for the guard? I thought thieves were better than that.”

“I’m a rogue.”

“What you are is dead.” The man flung something, and Tibs had water splashing forward to catch it, only it wasn’t a knife, but a small bag that broke open under the impact, then splashed in the man’s face with the water.

The man sputtered and wiped at his face, angry. Then saw what his hands were covered with and looked scared. With a scream, he lunged at Tibs, who side-stepped. Then the man was on the floor, between boxes, writhing in pain. His skin bubbled where the wet dust ran on it, and Tibs moved away, then forward, pushing his essence into the man, trying to stop what was happening, but it was eating away at the little essence there, and Tibs couldn’t figure out how to stop it. It didn’t attack his essence, but wrapping the man’s in it also did nothing to slow it.

When the last of the man’s essence was eaten away, he became still. His face was pock-marked and blistered, his eyes ran with blood, and his expression made Tibs fight against throwing up.

He couldn’t be certain it was the same thing in the bag he’d taken, but he wasn’t taking a chance. He’d stop by the pool of corruption as quickly as he could and throw it in. He didn’t want anyone, not even himself, to have something that could cause the terror he was looking at on the man’s face.