The rooming house had been finished for a few weeks now, and while Tibs had looked into it as an alternative to the cots, he hadn’t selected it. He didn’t need much to sleep, something to keep the weather out was the only thing he’d considered important, so with the cots being free, the rooming house wasn’t appealing, but one thing it had in its favor was privacy. That was what he wanted for him and Jackal right now.
Only, now that he was here, he had to think about what he wanted beyond right now. If he and Jackal were a team, and if he wanted to keep his team alive, he needed to think past the now and into tomorrow. So did he want the room only for the discussion, or did he invest in his team, even if it meant the risk of losing people he cared about?
He placed a silver on the counter and absently noted the animal head on it. A boar, one of the other runners had told him it was; the other side had the face of a woman. “How long will a silver give my team a room for?”
The woman on the other side, tall and rotund, with brown hair that shone red in the sunlight streaming through the open door, took it, made a face at the design, and put it back down. “A silver gives you two weeks. You don’t pay up at the end of that, and everything in it gets thrown out for anyone to take. No negotiations on that.” Tibs thought her voice could be pleasant, when she wasn’t bored and brusque.
“Tibs,” Jackal asked. “What are you doing?”
He took the coin and faced the fighter. “We need a place we call our own. We can’t be a team with sleeping on the cots or where you’ve been sleeping and where the others have…” he trailed off and swallowed the lump.
“Tibs, I’m not sure if—”
“We are a team,” Tibs stated, putting all the conviction he could muster behind the words. “Maybe it’s only two right now, and some of us will die. But I’ve decided I can’t be a runner and think like that. Can you?” When Jackal didn’t immediately reply, Tibs pointed to the counter. “That’s how we become a team.”
Jackal’s lips curled up and trembled with the effort needed in trying not to. “Shouldn’t she get a say in that?” he asked before snorting a laugh.
Tibs looked and realized he was pointing at the woman, he lowered his finger to point at the coin on the counter, only to remember he’d taken it—Street reflex to never leave something precious out of sight—and put it back, pointing to it.
“She might be too old for you,” Jackal said between laughter, and she chuckled.
Tibs tried to glower at the fighter, but he chuckled too.
“How many keys? The woman asked, still chuckling lightly. Tibs had been right, she had a nice voice.
He looked at Jackal.
The man took a breath to calm his laughter and nodded to Tibs. “Two for now. We’ll get more as we find teammates.”
The key was brass, like most keys Tibs had seen in his life, and every key in the town, but unlike the others, the end had no teeth to move the tumblers with. It was flat.
“Magic,” the woman said when she noticed Tibs studying it. “The guild doesn’t let us use anything else. Too many rogues around who can pick any locks, they say.” She shrugged. “Security’s always a good thing, so I don’t argue. The door number’s written on the bow. You lose a key and I’m not responsible for your stuff going missing, got that?”
“You have more keys,” Jackal said, “what if you decide to go into our room?” the accusation was slight, but there.
“If I go in, it’s because you missed a payment and your stuff is headed for the street. There’s five beds in there,” she continued before Jackal could add anything, “with partitions you can put between them if you want. What you get up to in there ain’t my business, unless it gets out of your room; that means noises too. There’s two taverns out there if you want to get loud. More on the way, I hear.”
“It’s safe,” Tibs told Jackal. He’d worked out that much as part of figuring out what he could do to the guild. “The guild won’t let anyone steal from them, and that's what we are to them. Theirs.” It wasn’t the kind of safety he liked, he’d seen too much of that kind of possession on the street, but other than the dungeon, the guild didn’t have any interest in telling them what to do, yet.
Jackal looked like he’d argue, so Tibs redirected his attention.
He raised the key. “Do you know your numbers?” I can’t read that. Even focusing on it didn’t bring up the information. Maybe only items the dungeon made had information?
Jackal looked at his key, turning it in his hand.
“You’re on the fourth floor,” the woman said. “The—”
“I know my numbers,” Jackal said, annoyed, and led Tibs to the stairs.
The room was larger than he expected. Five cots took little space, so he’d figured something a little larger than the entryway, but each bed, not cot, had enough room around it for two people like Jackal to sleep side by side on the floor. The partitions took enough space that with one between beds the person on the floor had to move partially under the bed to fit, but it was raised enough Tibs could slip under it if he wanted.
“I think this is larger than my family’s house,” Jackal said as Tibs opened one of the two chests. They were solid wood with brass as the corners.
“At least you have a house.” The lock was brass; and testing it with a pick, he didn’t feel any tumblers. He inserted the key and took it out. The chest wouldn’t open. He did it again, and it opened. It was large enough Jackal might be able to fit in it, if Tibs could get the fighter to bend in ways he might not be made to bend.
“I keep forgetting just how much more Street than I am you are. And that’s a feat, trust me.”
Tibs took a partition from where they were lined up against the wall. They were partial walls, but angled slates of wood; so that if he got close and looked up, he could see the ceiling through the small gaps. Turning it upside down would let someone look at the bed opposite, if they hung from the ceiling.
“So,” the fighter said, “This is going to be where our team’s based?” He was seated on a bed so Tibs did the same, marveling at how soft and plush it was.
“Yeah. The last team I was on has a room here, but their leader talked about getting something better. He doesn’t know I heard, I don’t think. I’m not good enough to be on his team. I don’t think anyone is.”
Jackal raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Which Tibs appreciated. He wanted to think as little as he could about Don and his strange eyes.
“Two silver a month divided between five people,” Jackal said, eyes closed. “That’s six copper each.” He opened them. “That’s not bad, so long as the whole team pays and we get at least one run in that month.”
“I’ve been pulled in three times in the last thirty days.” Alistair had explained a season was divided into four ‘months’ of thirty days, but he couldn’t explain why.
“Rogues are always popular, and I don’t think there’s that many of you left, so there’s more of a demand there. I only got one run in the last thirty days, the one where I met you. I hear things are going to change once the dungeon graduates, but I couldn’t get anyone to tell me how.”
“Sorcerers talking?” Tibs asked, unable to keep the mocking out of his voice. Some were nice, but most seemed to think that because they knew so much, it made them better than the rest of them.
“Mostly, yeah, but I got a few adventurers to confirm it.” Jackal didn’t touch his bruised face, so they weren’t who’d caused it.
Tibs did a mental count of the coins hidden on his person. Which was easy since he had fewer than fifteen coppers or silvers. “I can pay for this month, and since I’m sure to get one a month, I can pay for the rest too, if I have to. Everyone clears the warren room now. Oh, and I fought the golem, we didn’t beat it, but it fights mainly with the whip and it's fast. It doesn’t move a lot, mainly turns to follow the people in the room.”
“Tibs, you shouldn’t.”
“You’re my team. This is helping us make sure we stay alive.”
“The rules,” the fighter insisted.
Tibs glared at him. “I’m a rogue. We’re Street. Those are the guild rules, not ours.”
Jackal smiled and nodded. “Still, let’s stick with working out the room before we get on anything else. You shouldn’t have to pay for it alone.”
Tibs shrugged. “It’s my idea. If that’s how I get to keep a team, I don’t mind.”
The look Jackal gave him made Tibs glare at him. He didn’t need pity, not from him, not form anyone else.
The fighter raised his hands. “The next fifteen days are covered, and we’re due for a team run. It’s going to mean three randoms, which is a lot, but it’s going to give us a chance to see how good they are. If one of them doesn’t have a team yet, it might be worth offering for them to join ours.” He stretched on the bed. “I haven’t been in a position to complain about my sleeping arrangements, but man is it going to be nice to have my own bed.”
You are reading story Bottom Rung (Dungeon Runner Book 1) at novel35.com
Tibs nodded. The cots were nice enough. “Jackal, where are Walter’s robes?”
“With a friend. Don’t worry, I trust her. We didn’t exactly grow up together, but we’re from the same area.” He touched his bruises. Had she done that to him? He’d seen Jackal fight with friends, and his injuries then hadn’t affected him like this.
“What if she dies?”
Jackal grinned. “She’s not one of us. Her dad’s a merchant and got himself a contract with the guild months before this happened.” He motioned around them. “According to her, it wasn’t an accident. Her father had been looking over books for years, spending a small fortune—a small merchant’s fortune—on access to the city’s library, and to speak with sages. She thinks he knew a new dungeon was about to open. If we want information on this, he’s the guy we want to talk to. She might even be willing to convince him to give us a discount.”
“Are you and her…” he couldn’t figure out how to ask the rest of the question. He’d thought Jackal, and the server had been it, but the way he talked about this friend.
“Oh, lords, no. I just like her as a friend.”
Tibs nodded and looked at his feet, reading the words that appeared over them, rejoicing in being able to do that while he tried to figure out how to ask his next question. Explain why he was asking it.
“Tibs, there’s no need for the long face. That wasn’t an embarrassing question.” Jackal sat on the side of his bed. “I figure you’ve seen plenty of that on your street. Might even have done it.”
Tibs shook his head. He’d never had to, and having seen how the other urchins could be treated during those kinds of things, he was happy. No piece of bread was worth that.
“Okay. So we’re good?”
Tibs chuckled. “That’s not what it’s about. I just need…” he bit his lower lip. “If I tell you something, can you promise me that you’ll never tell anyone else, no matter what? Even if we stop being on the same team, even if we stop being—his voice caught—friends?”
“Of course.” Jackal sat on the edge of his bed, placed a hand on Tibs’s legs and squeezed, “Tibs, there’s only one way we aren’t going to be on the same team, and I’m going to remain your friend beyond that, okay?”
Tibs wiped at his eyes. “You know how I can’t do much with water?”
“Because of your age, right?”
He shook his head. “It’s what my teacher thinks, and I didn’t set him straight, but that’s not why.” He fell silent as he worked out how to say what he had to and Jackal watched him, quietly waiting. Tibs smiled.
“What?”
“You’re like how you described Earth.”
Jackal snorted. “Definitely not. I’m quick on my feet and with my tongue.”
“You’re patient.” Jackal didn’t say anything to that. “When you talked with Earth, was there something else there? Something inside it, like the shadow of a shape?”
Jackal frowned and was thoughtful before shaking his head. “It was just him and me, nothing else.”
“For me, there was that shadow with her. She saw me noticing it and she said I shouldn’t want that, it would be difficult, and, well, she was nice about it, but she didn’t think it was for me. She was patient too and understanding. She let it be my choice.”
“I think that they can’t force us to agree,” Jackal said, thoughtful again. “They have to want us, but we have to agree to it too. They can’t stop us if we change our mind.” He frowned. “I wonder if that's why the others died. They decided they didn’t want to be with Earth and they couldn’t come back.”
Alistair had said there was a risk of him dying, but he’d made it sound it only happened if Water refused him. He was starting to think even Alistair didn’t know much about the elements, and if he didn’t; no one would know anything about them.
“You’re the first one I asked about it, but that shadow, it’s an element too.”
“Which one?” Jackal asked, excited.
Tibs shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not? It’s your element, right?”
“It’s not complete. A little of Water came with it, and that’s why I can do small stuff, but I have to get the other three elements to give me their version of it.”
“Why would you choose that?” Jackal asked. “You did know you wouldn’t be able to get another audience, right? It’ll never be complete.”
“It felt right,” Tibs said. “It’s powerful, and I need that. I don’t mind that it’s hard.” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “I have to kill someone,” he said softly and waited for the reprimand, for Jackal to say he couldn’t be on his team or be his friend.
“I’m not going to judge you, Tibs,” the fighter said and Tibs stared at him. “I didn’t land here because I’m a nice guy. You’re Street and I’m enough of it to know things aren’t nice there. And I know enough about you to know that if you tell me you have to kill someone, there’s a good reason for it.”
“They hurt Mama.” The words escaped before he could stop them and was too busy keeping the tears from forming. “She died because of it.”
Jackal gave him time to settle. “You still can’t get an audience with another element, so I don’t know how you think you’ll have the power you need.”
“I think I can,” he said. “You said it was like being buried under a mountain, under the world. For me, I was drowning. That’s the elements.”
“Okay, but there’s still no way to go to where I had my audience. Even if I knew the magic to get us there. None of the golden robed people would help.”
“But does it matter?”
“Of course it does, that’s where Earth is.”
Tibs watched his friend. “No, that’s the closest place to where Earth is, but there’s earth everywhere. Just look around.”
“That’s not the same, Tibs. That’s just the ground. It’s got no essence, it’s not Earth. I have essence, you do too. Not this.” He motioned around them.
Jackal wouldn’t help him without knowing more, and Tibs understood one reason why the guild waited to teach this part. How many young Runners, realizing what Tibs had, would attempt the same thing, get a second audience? How dangerous could their arrogance be? His arrogance? How many more would die? The guild wanted to protect what was theirs and keeping the Runners ignorant was one way.
“I can’t tell you how I know this, I would if I could. You’re going to find out once you graduate,” he added as Jackal opened his mouth. “But Earth is everywhere; essence is in everything. If you help me recreate the conditions that took you there, I think I can get an audience with Earth.”
“But I don’t know what the conditions were. We were in a field, then my trainer let go of me. I don’t know what happened after that.”
Tibs smiled. “But you know what it felt like.”
Jackal stared at him. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
Tibs smile turned into a full-on grin.