Tirania glanced at Tibs as they walked and pursed her lips. “I should let you take the time to clean up.”

Tibs pushed essence to the surface of his skin, through his armor, and made it water, which coated him. He moved the water to his hand, and it brought with it the blood, dirt and anything else that had been on him. He absorbed most of the water back, leaving only enough to keep the foreign matter suspended in the now darkish liquid. He could absorb all the essence, leaving the rest to drift to the floor, but he suspected Tirania would be displeased.

She raised an eyebrow at the display. “That is a rather…pedestrian use of your element.”

“It’s faster than getting a bath ready,” he replied with a shrug. “Even if you have someone heat all the water at once. Where do you want me to put this?”

“There’s a latrine on the way to my office.”

Unlike the bucket in Tibs’s room, here the latrine was its own room, with stalls for people to do their business over holes that had complex weaves of essence inside them. The dirty water vanished as soon as it passed into the hole, with the essences that made everything in it breaking down, then moving deeper within the building until Tibs lost track of them.

Not for the first time, Tibs wished such a system was in place in his housing building, so he wouldn’t have to take the bucket to the outhouse to empty it.

He followed Tirania inside her office and immediately stopped, glaring at the back of the seated sorcerer in deep purple robes with the hood up and shoulders slumped forward. She sat behind her desk and motioned for Tibs to take the other seat.

“As I told Commander Irdian, the runs will soon start again.”

Tibs forced himself to look away from Don, who hadn’t acknowledged his presence, as he sat.

“I’ve sent for the new batch of Omegas and they should be here within days, but there are enough Runners to form teams and have runs until then. With the training defending the town provided, I expect everyone will find their floors easier, and it’ll be years before the dungeon has a fourth floor.”

She steepled her fingers on the desk. “Since teams have to be complete, Don will join your team, Tibs.”

He stared at her, so surprised it was a few seconds before the ice cracked and he said a disgusted, “No.”

“You’ve had ample time to—”

“I’m not letting that abyss kissing, selfish asshole on my team. I don’t care what you want. You can’t make me take him.”

Don didn’t react to the insults.

She leaned back and studied Tibs. “I understand that while you protected the town, there were difficulties working together. But you overcame them, and—”

“He got his team killed,” Tibs said through gritted teeth, filling the cracks. “All he cares about is looking important. Put him on a team that can deal with not trusting him.”

Tibs paused to let Don rant. Retort with all the ways what had happened hadn’t been his fault. Tibs was ready to counter with how Don had also left him to die at the hand of Sebastian’s thugs. But the sorcerer remained silent; he didn’t even move. If not for sensing the essence coursing through the man, Tibs might have wondered if he’d died while waiting for them to arrive.

“You don’t have a sorcerer,” she pointed out.

“I’ll find one.”

“You had ample time. You’re the only team with a role that isn’t filled, and Don is the only sorcerer who isn’t assigned to a team.”

“Then we’ll do our runs without a sorcerer until more arrive or gain their elements.”

“Teams must have five—”

“We’re get someone else,” Tibs snapped, then fought against showing the strain of keeping the cracks in the ice from widening.

She shook her head. “While I’m allowing repeats for most teams who can’t fill every role, much like before the clerics arrived, you’re a special case. I need your team to be complete for your run.”

“Then we’ll pass on the runs until there are other sorcerers.”

“No. You saved this town, both of you, so it’s only just that you go first. You are a symbol of what can be done by working together.”

Tibs snorted derisively, but he also wondered why Don wasn’t reacting to the praise. The man lived to drink in people saying how important he was.

“You can’t make me take him,” Tibs snarled.

She leveled her gaze at him. “Do you prefer I assign your friends to different teams so I can make one for you that won’t include Don?”

“You can’t do that,” Tibs said in stunned surprised.

She smiled. “I’m the guild leader, Tibs. I can do whatever needs to be done to ensure the guild prospers. Right now, we need the boost to morale having the two of you on the same team will bring; show that even in adversity, the guild succeeds. But if Don’s mistakes are such that you can’t work with him now that the danger is past, I am certain I can use how each of you chose to lead a team to greatness as a motivator.”

“You can't do everything you want,” Tibs said before he could stop himself; and ignored the lack of light on her words as he continued. “You don’t lead the guild; there’s someone giving you orders. That’s why there’s a new guard leader.” Just because she hadn’t lied didn’t mean what she said had to be true.

“Of course, someone gives me orders,” she replied with a chuckle. “The guild is much too large for me to be in charge of it all. And yes, they assigned Irdian when Harry vanished. They found out before I’d realized it. I was too busy making the arrangements for the new Omegas to be sent here. But this dungeon is my responsibility. Here, I have the authority to do what I see fit to strengthen the guild.” She steepled her fingers again. “What will it be, Tibs? Will your team be the Team of Heroes? Or will I have five teams led by heroes?”

Tibs forced aside her acknowledgment she wasn’t in charge of everything and focussed on the ice so he could think.

His plans weren’t formed, so having to change his target could be accommodated, and was for a future time. Don was what he needed to deal with now, and she wasn’t giving him any choice. He filled the cracks as they formed so his voice would remain steady.

“Fine.”

He stood and headed for the door. Glaring at the clerk on the other side hard enough, she stepped back and held the papers to her chest. He walk by her and froze when he realized Don was at his side. Tibs opened his mouth to make sure he knew what he thought of this arrangement, but the distant, hollow gaze gave him pause enough he noticed the pale skin within the hood’s shadow, how prominent the bones were.

Then he heard the clerk speak.

“Guild leader, I have an important missive from Marger for you, with instruction to return your responses immediately.”

“I have already sent him my report,” Tirania snapped. “What more does he want of me?”

“I’m sorry,” the clerks aid sheepishly, “I’m not—”

“Close the door. This is not something for any passerby to listen in on.”

Tibs cursed the enchantment within the walls. No sounds made it out once the door closed. Then remembered Don, who hadn’t moved. He wouldn’t have been able to listen in and confirm if this Marger was the person in charge of the entire guild. The sorcerer was bound to report everything Tibs did to Tirania.

He headed for the exit and made fists as Don fell into step with him. He didn’t care what game the man was playing at. Tibs wasn’t going to—the ice cracked and Tibs turned. “Why are you letting her do this?”

Don looked away.

“What? You think that because she forced you onto my team, we’re going to let you become leader? Is that it? You think that we’re going to let you cower behind us until you get someone killed?” Tibs yelled. “Well? Say something!”

He ignored the clerks hugging the walls as he waited.

“Why did you save me?”

The question was so soft, Tibs wasn’t sure he heard it over the pounding of his blood in his ears. “Because even someone like you didn’t deserve to be one of Sebastian’s victims.” One of the clerks against the wall glared at them and Tibs glared back, causing the man to hurry away.

Don’s snort was feeble. “You’re wrong,” he whispered. “I didn’t deserve to be saved.” He raised his head and tears fell. “You’re right. I got them killed. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want them to die. But it’s my fault we walked in the ambush.” He started looking away, then stopped. “I did hide behind them.” The shame was loud, but Tibs ignored it and kept on glaring at him. “I’d used up my reserve, so I needed time, but some of them had those fucking green stones, and I got scared. I hid behind the others while I tried to think of something that would make us win. Then the arrow hit me and I realized I was the only one left. I wish they’d killed me, instead of using me to draw you out. I wish you’d never heard me scream. That you’d let me die. Why didn’t you let me die, Tibs?” he pleaded.

The ice broke under the anger, and Tibs immediately filled it with water, muting it. He kept himself from screaming, from exploding at the sorcerer about his own wish that Don had been the one to die instead of Carina. The temptation to let the ice shatter was there, but as the anger cooled, so was the realization that he wouldn’t stop at screaming. If he exploded, it would be literal.

And then, Tibs would be a prisoner of the guild for the rest of his life.

“Too many people had died already,” he said after letting a breath out. Too many had kept on dying.

“You should have saved someone else. I ran away from that fight and left you to die. You should have done the same to me.”

Tibs snorted. “I survived it.”

“Not because of me,” Don whispered.

“That doesn’t matter.” He’d still have survived with Don there, with his help. It simply wouldn’t have been as fun, as satisfying to have to use only water.

The sorcerer dried his eyes. “That’s why I didn’t say anything. I want to learn how to do that. Not care about how someone wronged me so I can do the right thing.”

“I care,” Tibs growled, the ice cracking.

Don looked at him in surprise. “Then I want to know how you do that. The right thing, even when you hate me.”

* * * * *

“Is this a joke?” Jackal demanded as Tibs reach their table at the inn accompanied by Don. Mez watched in dismay.

“It’s that,” Tibs answered, dropping in a chair, “or Tirania splits us up so we’ll lead different teams.”

“This was her idea?” Jackal looked at Don suspiciously.

“Said it’s to show people how well the guild works. Help with morale.” He motioned to a server. “A new batch of Omegas is on the way.”

Jackal nodded, not looking away from Don. “Figured as much, with the tents and everything they put up in front of the dungeon. Are you sure you want him?”

“I don’t,” Tibs snorted. “But I’m not letting the team be broken anymore.”

“Sit down.” Jackal pointed to a free chair. “I’m not craning my neck while telling you I’m not taking any of your bullshit. You try to order us during a run and I’m going to throw you at a monster hard enough you’ll both break. Is that clear?”

Don nodded and sat.

The server placed a plate before Tibs and Don, to both their surprise, then she placed the tankards before moving on to other customers. Mez looked after her for a moment, then back at them, his expression concern.

“You’re going to have to tell Kroseph,” he said. “If he finds out Don’s sitting with us by having to serve him, things are going to get ugly.”

Jackal looked at Tibs hopefully. “How about you handle that?”

Tibs shook his head and started eating as the fighter sagged.

* * * * *

The argument wasn’t pretty.

While Tibs didn’t hear them, as the two stood on the other side of the nearly empty inn, the gesticulations were sharp, with a lot of finger stabbing at Jackal’s chest and Kroseph pointing to Don, sitting alone at their table now that Tibs was done eating and Mez had left halfway through that. Kroseph hadn’t forgiven Don for leaving Tibs to die.

When Jackal joined him by the door, Tibs couldn’t tell if the argument was resolved. Kroseph had walked away, throwing his hands in the air.

“Are you sleeping in our room?” Tibs asked as they exited.

“I don’t know.” Jackal looked inside the inn before closing the door. “Once he calms down, I’ll explain again how we don’t have a choice. If I’m lucky, he won’t punish me for someone else’s decisions.” They walked past damaged buildings. “You know that having Don on the team’s going to cause nothing but trouble, right? How are you going to practice with elements during our runs?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about talking with Sto? How is that going to—”

“I don’t know!” Tibs snapped, the ice cracking. “I argued against it, but she doesn’t care what we want, as usual. It’s all about making the guild seem like a good place, or something like that.” He breathed and hardened the ice. “Maybe Don will get himself killed during our first run, and that’ll be the end of it.”

They passed a few more building in silence, only one of which someone was working on, a woman Tibs thought lived in the destroyed house.

“So,” Jackal said. “About Don getting killed during the run. How much help should we give the dungeon in making that happen?”

Tibs closed his eyes and focused on holding the ice together. “None.” With how much he and Don hated each other, Tibs didn’t think there would be anything he could tell Tirania that would convince her it had simply been Don failing one of Sto’s tests.

He was going to have a hard enough time working out if this Marger was the real guild leader and if not, who they were, without her also angry at him. As much as he hated the idea, Tibs was going to have to ingratiate himself within her good graces until he had all the information he needed, and had a plan to bring them here so he could administer one deadly blow to the guild.