“Over there!” someone yelled.

Tibs looked up from the woman he dispatched in time to see green and black vanish around the corner.

“After them,” he yelled, and ran.

“But my guy’s not dead,” one of the fighters with him replied.

“Who cares,” said another, falling into steps with Tibs.

He’d wanted to have his team at his back as they went after the people Sebastian sent in the town, to sewing destruction and chaos, but Quigly had pointed out that, as some of the few original Runners left, along with the notoriety Jackal, he, and his team had, it was more efficient to have each lead a different group. It was the same with any Runner that had even a little renown. The one person who avoided this was Khumdar, who disappeared as assignments were given.

The two fighters with Tibs were Upsilon and had Metal as their element, but they had little training. He did his best to remember he’d been where they were once. Not even a year ago, or was it slightly over that now? So much had happened he had trouble keeping track. On top of that, by the time he’d had to take on his first real fight outside the dungeon, he’d already gone through a lot of hardening within it. One of the fighters, Ernest, had arrived days before the Attendants vanished.

They ran through empty streets, barely keeping the group in sight. The houses became more luxurious as they proceeded, and in the distance, he made out the noble’s neighborhood. He wondered if that was their destination and why.

Jackal had told him Sebastian wouldn’t rest after his defeat, and that he’d seek to hurt Tibs personally, so they agreed the town was the target, but even Sebastian had to know how much Tibs hated nobles. He couldn’t think he had anything to gain by attacking that part of the town.

Tibs stopped as the group ahead flew back. He raised his arms, channeled Earth, and blocked his companions path with them. The only way that had happened was through the use of essence, and Tibs didn’t want to seem like another group of attackers to the adventurers the nobles had bought.

The thugs in green and black were getting to their feet by the time Tibs was close enough to see the lone adventurer standing in the middle of the road in the intersection where the nobles neighborhood started.

She had golden eyes, and her chain-mail armor glowed from all the essence woven through it. The sword was still sheathed, but she looked ready to draw it as she noticed them.

“This area is off limits,” she announced. “If you try to get any closer, I’ll take you down.”

“We’re on the same side,” Ernest called back. “We’re here to help you deal with them.”

She focused on them and Tibs formed his sword and shield as he sensed essence shift between them. He had no way of knowing what an adventurer working for the nobles would do, but forming essence couldn’t be—it dissipated.

“Good, you deal with them in that case.” She relaxed.

“Isn’t she going to help us?” Ernest asked. “We were going to help her.”

“You have a lot to learn about adventurers,” the other fighter said.

Especially those who took nobles’ coins, Tibs thought darkly.

“That’s okay,” the fighter said. “We don’t need her.”

The group between Tibs and the adventurer was composed of three women and two men in light green and black leathers and armed with swords. They turned their back on the adventurer and smirked as they look Tibs and his group over.

That was fine by Tibs. He liked being underestimated.

He ran before they made their moves. He had the overall advantage, having essence when they didn’t, but they would be more experienced in combat. He made a patch of ice and slid to the center of the group. He got in a few minor slices before they got over the surprise. Then he was fighting two, while his companions kept the other three busy.

The adventurer stepped back and relaxed.

Tibs didn’t have time to think the dark thoughts as he leaped aside the strike meant for his neck, then blocked the other sword. He had the spikes on the shield grow, but the man jumped away before they struck him. They also avoided the patches of ice he put down. He wanted to ice the entire street, but his allies didn’t have his ability to move on ice.

While these thugs might not have been told of his dislike for the nobles, they had been informed of how he liked to use ice, and about some of his more recent tactics, too. He surprised one when he blocked with his sword and used his spiked shield to slash her stomach open, but it allowed the other thug to cut his sword arm.

He lost hold of his sword and let the essence go. Tibs filled the wound with ice as he dodge and backed away from the mad strikes. The man grinned at him until he noticed the knife in Tibs’s hand. Instead of confusion as to where it had come from, the man backed away as Tibs threw it.

He didn’t hit him, not that surprised him, but all he’d wanted was to put distance between them. With a thought, the man was covered with water, which iced and thickened as he fought to break free. His effort became more frantic as Tibs approached, reforming his sword. It went through the ice without resistance, then through the man’s chest.

His allies were also done with their opponents, Ernest keeping the other fighter from falling, and they were staring at him. So was the adventurer, who again looked ready to fight.

The two’s reaction didn’t surprise him. They might have heard stories of what Tibs had done, but how likely were they to believe them? Her reaction, on the other hand, perplexed him. He expected she knew of him. His interactions with the nobles were indirect, but there had been enough altercations between his Runners and the noble’s guards; they all knew who he was. Not to say of his habit of training by breaking into the nobles’ homes.

Maybe she too hadn’t believed the stories.

He did an inventory of his reserve. It was imprecise, he wasn’t sure how much he’d had when the fight started, and how much went into forming the sword, one of which he’d just let go, instead of pulling essence back. He frowned as he had more essence than he thought he should, but put that out of his mind as something for later.

The injured fighter yelled. “You could have helped!”

“Don’t bother,” Tibs said, crouching to examine the injury. “The nobles own her, and she’s guild.” He filled the deep cut with ice to explain why the flow stopped, then added a wrap of his essence to ensure it didn’t get worse as they returned to the inn.

“You’re guild too,” she called.

He stood and faced her. “I’m not.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, kid.”

“I’m a Runner,” he told her, glaring. “I’m here helping the townsfolk, not hiding in the hall, or letting the nobles think nothing’s happening just because you took their coins. I’m doing what the guild should.”

“You think you’re the only one who got into this wanting to help everyone?” she replies with a sneer. “Don’t worry, that’s going to get beaten out of you, too.”

“I will never let the guild turn me into someone like you,” he snarled.

She snorted. “You’re not the only one who thought that, either. You’ll see they’re right, eventually.”

Tibs turned his back to her instead of replying. He had more pressing things to deal with. Like getting the fighter to Clara so she could heal him and he could go out and remove more of Sebastian’s people from his town.

* * * * *

Carina dropped into the chair next to Tibs and rested her head on her arms. “I hate Jackal’s father,” she muttered.

“You aren’t alone,” he said, forcing himself to eat. Kroseph hadn’t taken no for an answer this time. So even if he wasn’t hungry, Tibs had to eat. The server looked meaningfully at the bowl of stew before Tibs as he placed a tankard and bowl by Carina.

“Did you lose anyone?” she asked, thanking Kroseph with a nod.

He shook his head. “But we’re losing too many overall.”

She sighed, stirring the stew with her spoon. “The guild’s going to have to empty more cells if they want to continue having runs.”

“That’s what I don’t get,” Mez said, taking his seat, and putting the plate down. “I don’t like that they aren’t defending the town, but I can understand why. It’s about resource management,” he said when Tibs glared at him. “For whatever reason, they don’t have the resource to defend it.”

Tibs snorted. “They have it, they just aren’t using it.”

“They’ll still have a reason for doing it,” the archer said, cutting the steak. “But leaving us out here to basically die doesn’t make any sense considering how much they kept saying we’re important once we became Upsilon.”

“They lied,” Carina said before Tibs could give an equivalent, but angrier, answer.

“They wish for us to become stronger,” Khumdar said, sitting. “This will be nothing more different from the fights in the dungeon.”

“I don’t agree,” Carina said. “Maybe for the Omegas and Upsilons it feels like what they’ve gone through on their runs, but the fights I’ve been in barely push what I can do. How about you?” she looked at them before finally starting eating.

“Now that you mention it,” Mez said. “The fights have been hard, but definitely not third floor hard.”

Tibs shrugged, chewing without tasting the food. If the fights were easier than they expected, then it had to mean more would survive over all, and he’d take that. “Anyone seen Jackal?” he asked, trying to decide if his bowl still half full would be enough for Kroseph to let him go back out.

“Out there, fighting, I expect,” Mez answered.

“I know that, but has anyone seen him?”

“You’d have to ask Kroseph,” the archer said.

Tibs wasn’t worried, yet. But he would like to know that his friend was okay.

* * * * *

Tibs stood on the roof as the sun vanished over the horizon, watching the wall the caravans had been turned into while Tibs and his people had been busy rounding up Sebastian’s people throughout the day.

Had been kept busy doing that, Tibs was thinking, since without all of them attacking the caravan, it had allowed Sebastian to have them turned on their sides and moved, so he now had a barricade fortifying his position. But it wouldn’t have been the only reason for the incursion, as Quigly called what had happened.

Tibs thought Sebastian always had multiple reasons for everything he did.

No one from Sebastian’s camp was running into the town anymore. They’d stopped as soon as the sun touched the top of the distant trees. Quigly was confused, since it gave the town the time to rest and heal. The tactical thing to do, as far as the warrior was concerned, was to push until the town broke, or Sebastian ran out of people. There was too much motion behind the barricade for them to be out of people.

Which meant Sebastian had a different reason for what he was doing. One Tibs didn’t understand yet.

Outside of his team, and Darran, who didn’t believe Don could do anything worthwhile, no one knew Tibs was responsible for the destruction of Sebastian’s house, or that the man held Tibs responsible for what had happened. So the attack was just general revenge as far as everyone else was concerned, instead of a way to hurt Tibs as deeply as possible. Among the orders the spies Khumdar had captured had, there was one about finding out everything and everyone in the town Tibs cared for.

He had no way of knowing how many had reported their findings, or what those had said. He loved the town as a whole, but as with anyone else, he had places he preferred over others. The inn, Darran’s shop and the merchant. His team’s room, the candy shop. He had no idea what someone spying on him would make of the places he visited when he wanted to relax.

On the other side of the barricade, torches and lanterns lit.

He considered sneaking into the camp in the darkness. If he could find Sebastian, maybe he could simply end the man instead of dropping him at Harry’s feet to be dealt with. Or maybe, and more likely, as Jackal had warned him, the lull was to lure Tibs into acting and falling into the trap his father had set.

Tibs idly considered mustering all the fire essence he had and incinerating the camp along with everyone in it. Part of him thought it would be worth the problems doing that would cause him with the guild to ensure Sebastian was ash. But on top of the questions he would have to answer, he couldn’t be certain such an attack would kill the man. Sebastian had all the enchanted protection he could pay for, and he’d seen the fire that nearly killed him, even if Tibs didn’t expect the man knew it was him who’d done it.

And then, there were the prisoners Sebastian had. He didn’t put it past the man to have killed everyone not working for him, but he couldn’t be certain, and if his fire was large enough, hot enough to kill the man, it would kill everyone else in the camp without care for if they were prisoners or not.

If he wasn’t going to go running into the trap, or burn the whole thing down, Tibs was left with making sure he was ready if Sebastian tried something in the night.