Tibs grumbles his congratulations reluctantly once everyone else, even Mez, congratulated Don on guiding them to victory. Don had, again, controlled the board, even if it looked for a while like Ganny was maneuvering them into a trap. Don had turned it against her, putting her on the defensive for the next five moves, which ended with Don defeating her Lord. Who else but him was good enough to beat the dungeon’s most important piece, after all.

He ignored the sorcerer’s looks and checked the chest for traps. He opened it and almost closed it on seeing the content. Was Ganny joking? She wasn’t saying anything, but why else would there be a purple sorcerer’s robe in there? It had the usual enchantments to let it absorb more damage, not break as easily, but the weave felt denser. A stronger version?

“Let me guess,” Don said, standing over Tibs and looking in the chest. “I’m too good for this, too.”

Tibs shoved the robe in the sorcerer’s arms before walking away. “I’m going to check the way to the next crest,” He told the others. “If you’re going to leave this room, watch where you step. You lock me out and I can’t help whatever trouble you get yourselves into.”

Three paces out of the room and someone followed him. Tibs spun around, ready to tell Jackal he wasn’t in the mood for company; he’d know why he wanted to be alone, but it was Don hurrying after him as he put the robe into his pack.

“I’m part of this team,” Don said. “You aren’t leaving me behind.”

“I don’t need your help,” Tib’s growled. “Leave me—”

“You think this is about helping you?” The disdain was thick. “This is about helping myself.” The words glowed. “I need you to survive if we’re going to get through all the rooms.” Those didn’t.

Tibs didn’t bother wondering why or what-about Don was lying as he glared at him. He didn’t care. The sorcerer was always lying.

“It may be best if we all remain together,” Khumdar said, joining them. “To ensure nothing happens to one of us.”

Tibs rolled his eyes at the look the cleric pointed at him. He wasn’t going to stab Don. Unlike him, Tibs knew what it meant to be part of a team.

The Gnolls they encountered next had elements, making the fight harder, and, because of Don’s presence, they had to use up more of the precious healing potions. He couldn’t wait for Don to convince Tirania he deserved to lead his own team, so Tibs could find someone he’d trust to replace him with. Someone he could tell about Sto, and his multiple elements, so Tibs could go back to talking with the dungeon during the runs.

There was that new Upsilon sorcerer Tibs had noticed on the training grounds. Her eyes were a color Tibs had never seen before, gray, but with a sheen to them. He wanted to call the color silver, but as with a lot of words used around the elements, it didn’t feel correct.

Whatever element she had, she had to be more trustworthy than Don.

Don didn’t question Tibs’s instructions as they navigated the shifting floor room, but Tibs felt the suspicious looks. The sorcerer also studied the room when Tibs was instructing someone else on the team, probably looking for a better path than Tibs had worked out.

The chest had a bandoleer Tibs could see attaching knives to. Mez pointed out it could instead hold potion bottles.

There were no attacks on the way to the dragon crest room, which worried Tibs. If Ganny hadn’t set up attacks getting there, she was planning something else.

The dragon crest took longer than the others to solve, as usual, because of the complexity of the movements needed to reform it, and Don’s eyes on him didn’t help. He was tempted to let the sorcerer try it and see how easy it was for him, but that would be playing into Don’s game, and it would cost them more time already spent relearning the trigger sequence leading here.

“Don’t touch anything,” he told Don as he stepped into the room.

“When have I ever been the one to touch something and trigger traps?” He didn’t look at Jackal, but Tibs knew who the sorcerer implied. It was a weak attempt at making the others think he was the better leader. He was probably holding in anger that Jackal hadn’t gotten himself killed when he’d tried to open what he thought was a cache, and triggered an attack by golem people. Tibs had seen the trap and ignored it, not expecting anyone else, especially Jackal, to notice it.

Tibs wondered how often Don had hoped Jackal would get himself killed in such a manner back when they believed he was trying to be a better person. They might have made him team leader then, and they would have regretted it. At least now, no matter what happened, there was no way any of them would let him take charge.

The way to the first chest room, then the second, was the same. They dealt with the ‘surprise’ golem people attack efficiently. Then Tibs had them past the first switch, then the second, again without any changes to the path. Maybe it had all been ploy from Ganny to make him doubt everything on this floor.

“Are we really continuing?” Don asked.

“You can leave,” Tibs replied, testing the walls, “if you’re scared.”

“I am not scared,” the sorcerer replied. “But the time shield was close to a quarter left when we entered. Can we risk the delay?”

“We know the way back,” Jackal replied, while Tibs systematically tested each wall, moving them along, his team on the same tile he was. “And we can easily defeat whatever creatures the dungeon puts in our path.”

“Your overconfidence will result in—”

The rest was cut as the wall moved in place and Gnolls dropped on them.

They won quickly and with a minimum of injuries. Then Tibs opened two chest rooms in a row. After that, there was another attack, which nearly killed Mez. Don stepped between the golem and archer, taking the killing strike in his side.

Mez’s gratefulness made Tibs sick. It wasn’t like Don had put himself at that much risk. His robe had taken the blunt of the damage because the sorcerer had stolen Tibs’s trick of adding his element to his armor, so the sword had melted as it struck, making it even less deadly.

And Don had probably planned it to happen, anyway.

Tibs tested the wall, finding the one that moved, and four sections later it opened a room with a larger chest than the others, a dragon crest over it, and a switch next to that.

“We made it?” Jackal asked. “Yes! We made it!” He ran into the room, and Tibs wondered if he should let him open this one and be reminded of why Tibs needed to check them, but the fighter stopped halfway to it and looked at Tibs sheepishly. “Letting my enthusiasm get the better of me again.” He grinned. “Been trying to work on that.”

Don snorted.

Tibs ground his teeth. The sorcerer was getting on his nerves; which had to be why he kept on doing that.

The chest was trapped. A simple trigger that activated when the lip opened. He neutralized it and revealed the contents.

One and five healing potions.

“Do you think this one’s random?” Mez asked, “or is this the dungeon subtly warning us about the next room?”

“The boss room.” Jackal rubbed his hands together. “Big loot!”

“And a harder fight,” Khumdar stated.

When Don didn’t comment, Tibs glanced in his direction. The expression on the sorcerer’s face was quickly replaced with a glare directed at Tibs. Had that been worry? Probably at how he was going to ensure he survived, even if it ended up costing them their lives.

Three potions each. Then Tibs checked the switch for traps before pulling it.

The floor rumbled and shook.

“That feels close,” Mez said.

“That isn’t a reason to be careless,” Jackal said, and the four of them stared at him. “What? I’m never careless.”

Don wasn’t the only one to snort this time.

They exited the room, and Tibs examined the floor as they traced back their steps. There were no surprise attacks, no blocked passages, and no new ones until they were back near the entrance, with the time shield having about a sixth left.

Was it slowing? Or did it not take as long as Tibs had felt to reach the crest in the shifting walls room?

“I do not recall a passage being here,” Khumdar commented, and Tibs looked in that direction. They were a good way from the exit, or the three crests. The new opening was two and zero paces ahead of them.

“One of the many shifts we triggered but weren’t there to see must have caused it,” Don replied with an edge to his voice.

“Should we go in?” Mez asked. “The crests are somewhere in that direction, aren’t they?”

“This feels too simple,” Don stated.

Tibs stopped himself from commenting. For once, Don was right. Ganny should have put something on the way. There were always attacks when they headed to the exit from the shifting walls room.

“Maybe the dungeon knows that we’re low on time by now?” Mez said.

“Dungeons aren’t that smart,” Don stated.

“Really?” Ganny replied. “And what do all the traps and fights and oh, the three caches you missed, Tibs, say about how smart I am? What about making you work for that Conquest victory, Don? What happened to him since the last run Tibs? Know-it-all used to have a sense of what he was dealing with here.”

How had he missed three caches? Should he go back? If Jackal found out, he—

“We won’t know if we don’t look.” The fighter headed for the new passage, watching where he stepped and sticking to the sequence that shouldn’t trigger anything. Tibs hurried to join him and check for tricks from Ganny.

Much faster than Tibs felt they should. They stood before the three crests. They were gray.

“That means they’re unlocked, right?” Jackal asked. “I am not dealing with more corridors after everything we went through to get here.”

“You’ll deal with what I decide you deal with,” Ganny said as Tibs did a visual inspection of each crest. There were no obvious traps, but he coated his hand in water before touching the lion crest.

“Ice would be more effective,” Don said, and Tibs made a fist as he stopped moving. Was he really suggesting he iced himself? Did the sorcerer have a death wish?

“I believe Don means that as it will be more solid than water, applying pressure on the crest will be easier if you make it ice around your hand,” Khumdar said.

“I know that,” Tibs snapped.

“That’s what I said,” Don said in an annoyed tone.

It was just his hand; and the water around it, not himself. He’d made his sword and shield easily enough, so this would… ice crystals formed in the water and Tibs let go of the essence.

“Don’t.” He glared at Don, who raised his hands placatingly, smiling. No, it was a smirk. Don didn’t smile.

Jackal stepped next to Tibs. “I’ll press it if you—”

“I can do it.”

“Maybe we can have the others step back,” Jackal said. “It’s a lot easier to perform without an audience?”

“Do I even want to know how you know that?” Mez asked while Tibs looked at the fighter in disbelief. Was he really equating making ice with what he and Kroseph got up to?

“You should have known me before I ended up here,” Jackal said.

Don snorted. “You were still doing that here. What?” the sorcerer asked as he was stared at. “Didn’t any of you hear guys talk about how the great Jackal made them feel in and out of bed? How did your man ever think that was appealing?”

Jackal snorted. “Do you think Kro saved himself for me? Don, how about you don’t put your nose in mine and my man’s business?”

“Might be easier to do,” Tibs grumbled, “if both of you stopped mentioning that business all the time.”

“I’m loathed to agree with Tibs,” Don said. “But you two are very free with your…performing.”

“Jealous?” Jackal said with a smirk.

“Of you?” Don replied, his tone hardening. “I will have you know that the women I have spent time with have only praises for how I perform for them. I can bring them to—”

“Oh, shut up!” Tibs snapped. Ice over his hand and slamming it on the crest. “I don’t want to hear about anyone’s performing.”

The click silenced the replies, then with a loud grinding, the wall parted.

The room on the other side was larger than any they’d come across; larger than the pool room on the second floor. The walls were decorated with etchings that were too far for Tibs to make out the details.

“That,” Don said, sounding worried, “is a dragon.”

He had to mean the only creature in the room with them, at the other end of it. It didn’t look that imposing, like a sitting scalled dog, but with a longer and narrower muzzle. Then he looked at how large the room was, how far the back of it seemed to be, and he had to reconsider how big it was.

“Look at the size of that chest between his legs,” Jackal said, awed. “Come on!” He ran into the room, turning to stone.

“Don’t,” Don yelled.

Tibs smirked and followed his leader. If the sorcerer thought now was the time to assert his leadership, he was wrong. The others were right behind him as he reached Jackal, then skidded to a stop as a ball of fire flew in their direction. Tibs made a wall of ice, and it exploded on impact, filling the room with steam.

Hidden from Don’s sight, Tibs channeled fire and wrenched the essence away from Ganny and absorb the second fireball before its heat even registered.

“Right,” Ganis said, “you’ve been sticking to water for long enough I stopped thinking of what you can do when you channel another element. Still,” she continued smugly. “It’s not going to save you.”

Tibs channeled water and absorbed the steam.

Between them and the dragon were over two and zero creatures. Other than the rats and bunnies from the first floor, every other creature they’d fought was represented.

With a whoop, Jackal ran at the closest Whipper, catching the whip and yanking hard enough to pull it off its feet. Tibs made a sword and shield and approached the Ratling group. By the time he engages them, flaming arrows peppers creatures, and he saw Khumdar fight a golem person before he had to focus on his opponents.

The Ratlings were better than Tibs remembered, but there weren’t on his level. One sweep of his sword and three were cut in half. His shield caught maces and claws, and he barely felt the impact. When they tried numbers to challenge him, he iced a few and easily dispatched the rest.

Then his sword shattered on a Gnoll, whose sheen through the fur should have warned him of what element it had, since he’d been too distracted to pay attention. Tibs reacted quickly and was out of range of the Gnoll’s swipe, but the front of his armor was cut, and Tibs felt the tip of the blade move through his chest.

If he hadn’t had metal as an element, he would have been cut in half without the sword even touching him.

When the Gnoll attacked again, Tibs sensed the essence around the sword extend forward and he jumped out of the way. He rolled and reformed his sword. He used his own version with this attack, stretch the ice blade until he reached his opponent. Something happened, metal essence moved, and the tip was shredded.

So the Gnoll was clever with its use of essence. Tibs smiled. He could be too. He rushed, sensing ahead. When the Gnoll used its essence. It was doing the thing it had around its body, but Tibs took control of the essence, pulled and coated his ice sword with it, so that when the tip impacted the Gnoll’s chest, it went through the metal coating it too. His opponent’s eyes widened in surprise, then ice exploded within it.

Tibs didn’t have time to celebrate the victory. He sensed a golem person nearly on him, and he swung, only to have her jump over him, land and jump againt. Slices after slices cut his armor while he missed her each time. She moved too easily not to be using an element, but he didn’t sense anything. Was it one he couldn’t sense, or was she doing the golem person equivalent of suffusing herself with it? Could Sto get them to—

Pain shattered his thinking; far too much of it. The sword was in his side. How could he feel pain from it? Metal couldn’t hurt him anymore. With an angry snarl, he filled her with water and turned her into an ice statue.

The answer was easy. It only looked like metal. If he’d bothered sensing it, he would have known it was something else. He pulled it out and suffused himself with purity. He was still healing as another golem approached.

He visualized the lines, the spiral and Dhu in the appropriate places, and water impacted the golem, exploding into watery shards that left rubble behind.

He stood and channeled water again. He dispatched a Whipper, then a Bunnyling; and quiet fell on the room, except for his team’s panting.

Don was by the door, but there was enough corruption on crumbling bodies Tibs couldn’t accuse the sorcerer of leaving them to die.

Khumdar, Mez, and Jackal downed potions and their injuries went away.

“Let’s get the loot,” Jackal said, turning to the dragon.

“Down!” Tibs yelled as the light essence formed into a line crossing the room in their direction.

Darkness washed over them, and when it met the now visible line of light, they struggled against each other as if they were solid. Darkness lost, sliced apart, but it had weakened the light enough Tibs didn’t think it would have done serious damaged if anyone had stood in its way.

Khumdar was on a knee, pale and panting. He pulled a bottle of blue liquid and drank. His color returned, and he stood, giving Tibs a nod.

“Alright,” Jackal said, “Now we—”

“Don’t move!” Don ordered.

Jackal stropped his turn and faced the sorcerer. “I’m the team leader, Don.”

“And you intend on leading everyone into that?” the sorcerer demanded, pointing.

They all turned, and more, a lot more creatures shimmered between them and the dragon.

“We can…” Jackal lost some of his bravado. “Tibs? Mez, Khumdar?” He paused. “Don? Opinions?”

“They have the numbers on us, no contest,” Mez said, worried.

“Do dungeon not always challenge us with what we can overcome?” Khumdar asked, equally worried.

“But it doesn’t alway do it the way you expect,” Don snapped. “This is clearly meant to look like a battle of strength.”

“Which we can’t win,” Mez added.

“Therefore, it must be something else.”

“Tibs?” Jackal asked.

He looked around for a clue as to what this was about.

“Tibs?” the fighter asked again.

“I don’t know!” he snapped, then glared at the sorcerer. Tibs should have been the one to catch on. He knew Ganny. He knew she didn’t go for the obvious. “You—” he closed his mouth on the accusation and breathed. “We rushed in without thinking. We got overconfident.”

He looked at the… horde of creatures. “I don’t think we can fight through them. And I think that any movement in that direction will cause an attack.”

Jackal nodded. “So we retreat and come back to fight another day?” They nodded. “You win, dungeon,” he said as they headed for the corridor. “But we’re coming back, and that chest is mine.”