Dungeon Runner
The Tiger Writes
sciencefiction
sciencefiction
31K5
Tibs survived by picking pockets; until he's caught.
Instead of losing a hand, he's sent away and told he must now survive a dungeon.
How is a kid who knew nothing more than his ...Bottom Rung, Chapter 34
Tibs squinted, he'd gone from the light of lanterns to daytime. He located the sun through the gray clouds; midmorning.
"Bracelet," a woman said before he could run off.
He raised his left arm and pulled the sleeve down to show it.
"Name?" She wore the green and black of the new guards, but her eyes were the gray of metal essence wielders. He tried to determine what her class was, but she had no armor on, no sword at her belt, no bow, and he didn't think she was a sorceress.
"Tibs."
She took a book out of a pocket and flipped through it. It was smaller than her palm, the cover was black leather. She smiled. "Ah, Mister Light-Fingers."
"I haven't stolen anything here," he said. The slight whine in his voice was because he was tired, he told himself. If the new guards knew the name Bardik had given him, he'd never escape it.
She raised an eyebrow. "Meaning you stole elsewhere." She made a note in the book.
"Before here," he hurried to say. "I've been good."
"You're a thief," she said casually, putting the book away. "You aren't kept around to be good." She cupped the bracelet in both her hands and her eyes became unfocused.
I'm a rogue, Tibs mentally corrected her as he paid attention to what she did. He felt essence move; not his, and other than knowing gray eyes meant metal, he couldn't tell the kind of essence she was manipulating, or how she manipulated it. Unlike when he'd felt Walter manipulate water, here he couldn't sense any of the details of what she did. The bracelet loosened, opened, and when she moved her hands away, she kept it.
Tibs purposely didn't rub his wrist. Alistair gained the reflex from when he broke the rules and was branded. Bardik said the brand he wore itched. Tibs wouldn't give in to the discomfort he felt now. He wouldn't act as if he'd been marked.
She placed the bracelet in a crate and seemed surprised to see him there. "You can go," she said, making a shooing motion.
Tibs ran past those waiting for their turn on the platform, and he wondered how they'd known not to have someone there when he arrived, or what would happen if there had been someone there. He could ask Alistair later, right now he needed to make it to his room.
He skidded to a stop. Did they have one? Where would they go if they didn't? Someone bumped into him and Tibs reflexively checked he still had his pouch. Then he realized the crowd wasn't only larger than he'd expected, but the quality of the clothing much higher. Right, they'd been called back because the dungeon was reopening, and others could now run it too. He looked at the people. People with coins, he decided.
Tibs headed for the inn. He decided that even if they had a room, that was the more reliable place to find his team. He had to push through people which elicited curses; and having to use his hands to make space before him made resisting the urge to dip his fingers into those full pockets difficult to resist. He needed to ask Alistair what the punishment for picking pockets was in the town. It couldn't be the loss of a hand, not if they wanted him to be an efficient rogue.
The inn was busy, but not full. A harried Kroseph noticed him and motioned to a corner. Every table was occupied, but most had free seats. He recognized Runners, but there were a lot of strangers too, looking around with a mix of nervousness and eagerness.
The fighter stood before Tibs reached them. "There you are, Tibs," Jackal greeted him. "How was the sea?"
"It was nice," he replied.
"Just nice? You seemed so excited to run to see it, and it was just nice?"
"Let him be, Jackal," Carina admonished. "We were worried, Tibs."