Something was off with Kragle Rock, but Tibs couldn’t figure out what.

There had been no reports of unusual crimes from the Runners patrolling Merchant Row and the surrounding neighborhood Tibs handled. Jackal continued to have a difficult time finding training partners, since him deciding he would do all he could to survive the dungeon had turned into fighting harder during training. Even in the fighting pit, he had problems finding opponents.

The tension between him and Harry’s guards was the same as it always was. Each side glaring at one another, daring the other to start something. The townsfolk had finally stopped getting involved. Tibs didn’t know what Don had said to either side, but he was grateful. He’d even delighted the sorcerer by telling him that to his face.

The one detail he had noted that seemed out of place was the nobles walking about the town. They weren’t causing more problem than the usual demand for everyone to bow to their likes. But having so many of them out of their neighborhood was unusual. The only times any of them left it was to go on their runs or to Merchant Row for one of the few there who catered to their needs.

And the Bazaar. The bazaar always drew everyone outside.

Tibs’s wandering led him to the edge of the town opposite the dungeon, where the caravan’s trampled path was becoming a full dirt path since it was now used as the main route out of town for those who went to the far woods to hunt, or to simply leave. There were few of those, but once in a while a family set out on the path looking for something closer to what they’d hoped to find in Kragle Rock.

Tibs found Cross standing there, looking into the distance.

“One of your men gone and didn’t come back?” He asked. Cross had a lot of men in the town she spent them time with, even if none of them were her special man. Quigly had mopped around for a while after realizing that Cross didn’t want a special guy. She just wanted guys to have them time with.

She glanced at him, and the worry there wasn’t that of some guy leaving.

“The caravan should have been here by now,” she said.

Tibs frowned, looking in the distance. “I thought they came when they could. That it was never the same from one visit to the other.”

“It isn’t,” she replied and fell silent.

“Cross, I don’t know what question to ask here. I don’t know much about caravans. Why don’t you act like I asked the right one and answer it?”

Her lips quirked up before returning to a tight line. “To you, it’s like they come whenever they feel like it, but that isn’t how it works. They have to make plans, schedule what they will need for their next trip. Merchants know how long those will take to acquire, so once they know what they will bring the next time, they can work out when they should be back. There’s a lot of merchants on a caravan, so it’s not precise, but they’ve been doing this for a long time. Even on a new route like this one, they won’t be off by more than a few weeks.”

“And?” Tibs finally prodded.

“And I talked with them. I go around during each bazaar, and I learn when they expect to be back. It tells me how long I have until I get a new puzzle, or when a caravan guard who likes me is likely to bring me gifts.”

“And?” he asked again when she didn’t continue.

“The longest one of them expected it to take before they were back had them here almost a month ago.”

Tibs looked out again, noticing the people gathering around them and also searching the distance. One looked at him as if expecting Tibs to explain what they were watching for.

“But stuff happens when they travel,” he told Cross instead. The townsfolk could work out what they were talking about on their own, or grow bored and head back to their other duties. “There are monsters out there, bandits. Bards are always singing about those.”

“There aren’t as many monsters as they’d want you to think,” she said with a chuckle. “Bandits are the usual problems caravan face, and yes, they can’t know if they’ll encounter some, especially on a new route like this one. That’s why they have so many guards with them. Once a route is established, the bandits know better than to waste time trying to rob them. But if they realize they’ll be later than expected, they’ll send a rider to let the town know. It’s not to a caravan’s advantage to surprise a town with their arrival, since time will be wasted making space for them.”

“Okay, but stuff can still happen.”

She nodded. “But the level of bad luck needed to delay a caravan this much is only found in the songs from bad bards.”

“Luck’s not a thing,” Tibs said reflexively. He felt the runner step up next to him and nodded to Tandy. “Can one caravan cause another problems? Can that be why they’re late?”

Cross shook her head. “Not here. This kingdom’s caravans are organized. They have to agree on how they will proceed before they’ll be allowed on a route or to join an existing caravan. Only the smaller kingdoms will have those kinds of problems, unless the town in question has a dungeon. Then the guild makes sure everything runs properly.”

“So the way the guild does things here isn’t normal?” Tibs asked, surprised.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe all new dungeon towns are left to survive on their own. I wasn’t born when the last one happened. I haven’t even heard songs about one. It doesn’t seem like it should be normal to me, but who knows how the guild thinks.” She paused. “How anyone thinks, really. That’s one thing you’ll learn once you travel the world. People don’t always think in a way you feel makes sense.”

He snorted. “I already know that one.” He looked into the distance again. “Is it worth trying to get one of Harry’s guards to go out and see if they’re in trouble? I can’t send my Runners outside the town.”

“There’s no point. If they were close enough to be reached, they’d have sent a rider. Maybe I misunderstood what they’d said,” she added unconvincingly.

Tibs didn’t think Cross misunderstood anything, and if the townsfolk had a sense of when the caravan should arrive, it could explain the general uneasiness he’d felt. Nobles would know, wouldn’t they?

He felt the essence weave form, and glanced at Tandy, who was squinting through a tube of what would be void essence.

“Someone’s coming,” she said. And excitement spread through the crowd, while Tibs readied himself for a fight.

“How many?” he asked, trying to make out what she saw.

“Just one.” The weave changed. “Yes, only one. I think they’re injured, and they’re on horseback.”

“How can you see them?” Cross asked, hands over her eyes and scanning the distance.

“My element is void. I’ve learned how to use it to make the distance between me and what I’m looking at shorter.”

Cross gave a concerned glance in Tandy’s direction before going back to peering ahead.

“Can you tell how far they are?” Tibs asked.

She shook her head. “As far as ground lasts. I can’t see beyond that. Don’t ask. My teacher tried to explain it to me, but once she started talking about how flat ground wasn’t actually flat, I figured it was too advanced for me.”

“That puts them around ten minutes away at horse’s gallop,” Cross said.

“They’re not galloping,” Tandy replied.

“Tandy, I need you to gather Runners. If they’re injured, there might be someone chasing them. Let’s be ready to defend them if it comes to that.”

“It should be the guard’s job,” she replied, still looking ahead.

So much should be. “Just in case they’re too busy with everything else they have to do, we should prepare to help.”

Tandy smirked, nodded, then ran off.

“I don’t know how much good you’ll be able to do if they’re being chased.”

“However much we can, but at least we’ll be ready to help.” Tibs looked around, hoping to see guards. The crowd kept him from seeing more than two people deep with how much taller everyone was.

“If it’s bandits,” she said, “there won’t be much anyone can…” she glanced at him. “Right, magic. Okay, you can probably take on an entire band by yourself.”

“Not me,” he replied. “But Jackal could. You too.”

“That is not a fight I’d be looking forward to,” she said.

Tibs stared at her. “I thought you were a better liar than that.”

She grinned, and they waited.

* * * * *

A few minutes later, the rider’s dust cloud became visible. If they hadn’t been galloping when Tandy saw them, they seem to be now. Tibs had seven Runners with him, and a dozen guards were present. They’d dispersed the crowd and taken position on each side of the Runners.

Tibs had ignored them, while Don had quietly talked with the guard who led them.

Tandy had returned with two Earth Runners, two Metal, all four fighters. A Crystal Sorcerer, and Don.

“Who’s dealing with him?” Tibs asked Don.

The sorcerer eyed Tibs, and for a second, it looked like his response would be snarky, but he straightened. “I convinced Hamed I should be the one to greet them so you wouldn’t make a mess of things and still feel like they’re respecting your position.”

Tibs didn’t react to the implied insults in there. If it was what it took for Don to keep the guards from forcing him away to watch at a distance, as they probably did nothing, it was fine.

“I need to know who hurt him, and if they’re a threat to the town,” he told the sorcerer.

“I know what to do,” Don snapped.

Tibs bit back his own snarky reply. “I just want to make sure I can prepare the town’s defense if it comes to that. Tandy can get a healer here if we need to, but unless he looks like he’s dying, I have to know what he’s running from before the guards take him away.” He fixed his gaze on the sorcerer. “Can you tell me we can depend on Harry to protect the town this time?”

Don broke the staring contest to look at the approaching rider. “Only if it’s a monster after him.”

“So if it’s bandits, it’s up to us.”

“That isn’t how he wants to do things, Tibs,” Don said.

“But it’s how he’ll do them, anyway.”

“The guild is—”

“Don, do you care who is forcing him to let us die? Don’t you think making sure we don’t is more important than making it seem like the guild is on the side of the townsfolk? Once we’ve dealt with that, you’re welcome to tell the story in a way that makes them the heroes, for all I care.”

Don snorted, but the rider was now close enough the sorcerer headed in his direction.

The man fell off as soon as the horse came to a stop next to Don, and the sorcerer barely caught him.

Tibs saw the blood covering his clothing, and he sensed the way his faint essence was cut where the gash he couldn’t see was. All he could tell from the essence was that the man wasn’t dying, but he looked like he’d been riding for days. What he could see of his skin under the dirt was gaunt and pale.

“Tandy, see if any of the clerics can come. Clara would be best if you can arrange it.”

Don yelled for a cleric, and one of the guards took off at the same time as Tandy and Tibs silently cursed. Clara would listen to him and she’d ask questions as she worked. Whoever the guard brought wouldn’t speak with Tibs.

“What happened?” Don asked, helping the man walk toward the town, angling them so they would be between Tibs and the guards. Don making sure neither side could claim he favored one over the other.

The man’s response was too soft for Tibs to hear, but the look of fear on Don’s face meant Tibs had to know.

“Who did?” the sorcerer asked, and Tibs closed his eyes and channel air. He hurried to form a tunnel of essence, pulling the air toward him. The weave was rough and if he stopped thinking about it, it unraveled; and it did, when the man’s answer reached Tibs.

“Green and black.”