Tibs let out his breath as he moved the air essence into the knife. Three evenings now, and finally he was getting the hang of this. There wasn't much he needed to do, other than let his essence flow into the knife, but he needed to keep it there for the enchantment to take effect.

It wasn't an enchantment, as far as Carina told him. She'd studied the knives, then took them to her teacher, and came back explaining what they did. Tibs had been ecstatic about getting enchanted knives and she'd explained they weren't; how they needed to function without outside essence; like his shoes and pouch had done. The knives, she told him, were simply imbued.

He didn't care what she said. The knives flew when he pushed essence into them. That was an enchantment.

The knife rose off his hand, and Tibs smiled. He felt his essence move within the structure of the enchantment. Tibs shifted the essence to a side, and the knife drifted in that direction. To the other side, and there it went. He pushed the tip in one direction, the handle in the other, and it slowly spun until the point was down. He held it there.

The door shut, startling him, and he barely moved his hand out of the way as the knife dropped and sunk into the table two finger's width.

"Sorry," Carina said, holding back a chuckle. "How is it coming?"

Tibs pulled it out of the table. One more mark among so many others no one would pay it any attention. It seemed no one was careful around the furniture.

"I can hold my essence in it and get it to move a little, but I don't have enough to do much more." He sheathed it with its twin at his hip. "It needs more to do anything useful. I can feel that with the way the essence in the knives is structured. It can probably fly without me throwing it when it's full, but…" he shrugged.

She lobbed something at him. "This can help." He caught it and was holding Carina's amulet. "It's drained. I checked with my teacher, and once they're fully drained, they can be refilled with any essence. So you don't have to put air in it if you prefer another essence."

"Don't you need it?"

She pulled the stone from around her neck. It was now wrapped in leather strips. "This one's better quality. It holds more, and the flow is better. Do you know how the dungeon made it?" Tibs shook his head. "Can't you ask it?"

"I can't hear him from here." He turned the amulet in his hand. Feeling the structure of it. "I think he needs to be thinking at me for me to hear him because he said that he and—" Tibs stopped. "That he likes to comment on the other teams, and I didn't hear anything he had to say about those omegas before we ran into them."

"Think at you?"

He shrugged. "It's how he describes it. I guess that since he doesn't have a mouth, it's all thinking to him." There was no essence in it, like she'd said, but what he didn't understand was how it could hold it. There were no weaves of essence in it. "What did your teacher say when you asked about other essences going in?"

"He thinks I'm selling it to a merchant or another Runner. If he knew I'm giving it away, he'd have taken it from me."

"He can do that?"

"He's Delta. He made sure I knew that from the start. I'm pretty sure it means he can do anything he wants."

Tibs bit his lower lips as he considered his next question. "How is it with… you know?"

She sighed and dropped onto her bed. "It's over. We had an arrangement, and he didn't hold up his end, so I'm not staying in it. Of course, I couldn't tell him the dungeon told you how he'd been talking about me, so I expect he's going to be screaming at all his friends. They can take the blowback since they chose to be on his team." She sighed. "Tibs, don't get involved with anyone."

He chuckled. "I wasn't planning on getting any special anyone."

She snorted. "He wasn't my special guy. If what we had was like Jackal and Kroseph, or even what Mez and Tandy seem to have, I'd have given him a chance to explain."

He frowned. "If he wasn't your special guy, why did you and him do it?" he paused. "I mean, you did, right?"

She stared at him, face slowly turning red.

Tibs rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know what Jackal and Kroseph do when they have their 'them' time. But I thought that was something people did with their special someone." He raised a hand to forestall her. "I know it doesn't have to. I've seen what a noble does when they grabbed someone off my street. But that wasn't about pleasure, right?"

She regained some composure. "It is. I mean, I don't know about those nobles, but what I did, it was just about pleasure. Jackal and Kroseph are about more than that, but me and him?" she shook her head. "It was more like if you and Mez shared a drink at a tavern."

"I wouldn't get angry at Mez for talking about it afterward."

She nodded. "That's more about him breaking the agreement. We'd both agreed to keep it discreet. Where I'm from, there are expectations when we…" She blushed. "And his standing is higher than mine, so even if it makes little sense to pay attention to that here, away from both our homes. We didn't want people to know. Or at least I didn't. Clearly, he wasn't as worried as he told me."

Tibs nodded.

"So." She smiled. "Now you know that you can have pleasure with someone if—"

Tibs ran out of the room making gagging noises as Carina burst out laughing.

* * * * *

"Look," the merchant behind the counter told the messenger as he tried to hand the small bottle back. "I wasn't told you were coming. Take this back."

The man facing him put the leather tube's strap over his shoulder. "I can't. My contract was to bring it to the Caravan Garden and hand it to the person at the counter. That's you. Unless you want to open another contract, and pay the fees, we're out of options."

"Lina!" the shopkeeper yelled, and Tibs took a step back. "Don't you go anywhere!" he yelled at the back of the messenger, who'd taken the opportunity to move. "We're not done here!" The messenger was out the door without acknowledging the call. The man glared at the bottle in his hand. "If that girl of mine is using the shop's money to have—" he closed his mouth and attempted to calm himself.

"What is it?" Tibs asked. He sensed the essence flowing inside the bottle, but it wasn't one he could identify. What he found interesting was how that essence remained contained inside, even if the bottle didn't have any weave to prevent it from flowing out. He realized it acted a little like the amulets, only as a barrier instead of a container.

"No idea," the man spat. "My daughter must have ordered it. And then not even have the decency to be here when it arrived. Not to say she was supposed to be working." He put the bottle on the shelf hard enough Tibs winced. He didn't know what releasing concentrated essence did, but if it was anything like when Carina let a ball of air essence go, it wouldn't be good. "Knowing her, she's off with that no good sorcerer and—" he looked at Tibs. "You don't need to listen to me complain." He smiled. "Are you here to open the puzzle box again?"

Tibs placed a handful of candy on the counter with the coin. "It's not as interesting the second time."

"So I should find another one for you to crack?" he nodded as he counted the candies, then took three out of the pile, along with the coin. "A copper gets you eight."

Tibs nodded. That would be what the letters on the front of the box where he'd taken the candies said then; since they were before the number eight. "I don't know my letters." He took the candies and placed them in the pouch he'd bought since Sto wouldn't remake the one he'd lost in the fire.

The merchant sighed. "Not a lot of you Runners do. Not even those new people."

"Nobles know their letters," Tibs stated.

"That they do," he replied with a snort, "but it isn't like they frequent my shop. Back in Aruna, nearly everyone knows how to read. I didn't consider it would be different here. Each time someone buys something, it's like it was with you. If I don't pay attention, they'll take more than they should."

Tibs looked at the store, then the merchant. "Do you have colors?"

"I sell pigments, yes."

"For you to use." Tibs pointed to the box of candies. "Make a circle the color of copper and an arrow to the number eight. That's going to tell us how much we can get."

The man nodded, but his expression darkened as he looked the shop over. "That's going to be a lot of work, but it's a good idea."

Tibs shrugged, popping a candy in his mouth as he headed outside.

* * * * *

His stalker was back.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

This time, he didn't hear the footsteps. As he walked into an alley on his way to Transport Road, someone with the metal gray of essence followed him. He'd narrowed it down to four people. Two archers, a sorcerer, and a rogue. The lack of sound didn't help identify his pursuer, Sto still gave out the shoes that let anyone move silently. Still, Tibs now knew who this was. After all, there was only one person who had a reason to want Tibs dead.

Tibs didn't want the fight. They weren't allowed, and he might not win. But he needed to make sure the Runner didn't do this again. Next time Tibs might not sense him in time.

He kept an eye out for anything made of metal as he approached the alley's exit. The only thing was the bands on the rain barrel at the end. The buildings would have nails, but there were no balconies to cause to drop and his pursuer was keeping his essence back this time.

The road would be a different situation, so as soon as he stepped out of the alley, he was running.

He couldn't be sure they'd give chase, but one possibility was that if they realized Tibs knew what they were doing, they'd stop. If not, Tibs wanted distance to plan his defense, prepare the terrain to his advantage. He had to remain on the defensive if he wanted to get away with this, but he also needed to make sure he was going to win.

He dodged people and carts through the road—when had the carts arrived?—and entered the alley opposite. Too wide, nearly a street and with balconies, it wouldn't do. Out of it, he angled to an alley he knew to be smaller, and it branched after the second building, so he could get a bit more time to plan if he did this right.

He glanced over his shoulder and Don's rogue was still chasing him. Tibs ran harder and entered the alley. He used the little air he had to make some of the dirt lift in the left branch as he took the right one. Would that be enough?

A bend and the alley dead-ended. He turned and looked around. He should have put water in his amulet. Even one day would have given him something to work with. Instead, his indecision meant he had only his paltry reserve.

He knelt and made a puddle on the ground. If that was all he had. He'd made the best of it. He willed it to resist being absorbed by the ground, then stepped away. The strain on his concentration grew with the distance, but he couldn't do anything about that other than add it to the things he needed to train.

He looked around. Was there something else he could ready to help him? Fire was out, too obvious and it might spread. Earth? What could he—

"Did you think throwing dirt would be enough to fool me?" the rogue demanded, panting.

Tibs spun and looked for an exit.

The man grinned. "You aren't escaping me this time." He straightened. "How are you so fast?"

"People keep chasing me," Tibs replied, and realized he might be putting on too much bravado when the man frowned. "What do you want?" he asked fearfully. Fear was an act that had saved his life over on his Street.

"Oh, nothing much," he said casually, as he pulled the short sword out of the knife-sized scabbard. "Just finish what we started in MountainSea."

"We're not allowed to fight," Tibs pointed out, again sounding afraid.

The rogue smiled. "This isn't going to be a fight. For this to be a fight, you'd have to stand a chance. I've been training. Had to, now that I have competition, and I'm Rho now." He stepped forward, and Tibs remained alert to the essence around them. If the man tried something, Tibs would have to sacrifice his control over his water to stop it.

"So, you're going to use all that power on someone who has so little essence his eyes don't even show it?"

The rogue smirked. "But you can do plenty with what you have, can't you? Enough that I'm willing to bet the eyes thing is a trick. You want people to think you have nothing. You want their pity. Use it to get everything you have. If you were that weak," he snarled, "the dungeon would have eaten you already."

The sword glimmered as essence flowed over it. Tibs let that happen. He had to risk it. It was too early to reveal what he was capable of. He took a step back, and the man stepped forward, over the puddle.

"Nowhere to run to, Tibs. You got yourself into a corner, and you're going to stay here."

"Did Don tell you to do this?"

"Don? I told you, this is for MountainSea. But he's going to be happy you aren't around anymore to claim to be better than he is."

"I never claimed anything like that," Tibs replied. "He's welcome to proclaim himself the voice of the dungeon, for all I care."

"I'll be sure to tell him that." The man lunged forward and swung. Tibs jumped aside and rolled to his feet, eyes going wide at the long gash the blade left in the stone wall. "Us metal users," the rogue said as he turned to face Tibs, "have a lot more versatility than you water babies."

Tibs swallowed and looked away from the damage. If the sword did that to stone, what would it do to his arm? Would coating it with earth protect it? He jumped to the side again and immediately turned to face his opponent. Even if he wanted to make a run for the exit, he couldn't give him his back. If the rogue could throw that sword with any kind of accuracy, Tibs would be dead before taking three steps.

He watched his steps as he dodged the swings, making the man curse each miss.

"I'm really starting to hate you," the man said. He swung and Tibs moved. The tip of the blade nicked Tibs's armor and his arm under it so cleanly, he didn't feel it until the stinging of flowing blood began.

The man cursed. "I was hoping to cut your arm off. You have to be the luckiest bastard in existence."

"Luck isn't a thing," Tibs replied, taking a step back.

"You're about to run out regardless," the man said, stepping forward.

Tibs smiled. "No, I'm not." He iced the puddle just as the foot came down on it. The man's legs slipped out from under him and he was down with a scream that would have made Tibs smile if he wasn't busy concentrating on pooling his earth essence around his foot to make it heavier as he kicked the rogue in the head.

The man rolled on his back but was still conscious. His face had a metallic sheen to it. "How?" he asked as Tibs kicked at him again. "You weren't touching the water?"

Tibs put all the strength he had behind the kick. He missed as the man crawled back, and the extra weight on his feet nearly cause Tibs to trip.

"Distance manipulation is a Rho ability," the rogue proclaimed.

Tibs stepped forward. He was going to kick him until he didn't move anymore and worry about if he was alive after that.

"Stop!" a woman yelled as he wound back. He considered going through with it, but the grin on the man's face made him pause.

"Thank the High One!" he yelled. "He's trying to kill me." He began standing.

"Don't move either," she ordered.

"But—"

"I said, don't move. Fighting's not allowed in this town."

"I was defending myself," the rogue proclaimed.

Tibs considered what he could do. With the guard involved, convincing the rogue that coming after him again was a bad idea wasn't happening.

"I don't care," she said. She glared at Tibs as he turned. "Are you going to claim your innocence?"

The green and black of her uniform gave Tibs an idea. "I want to talk to Harry." If this worked, it might be even more effective.

She snorted. "You think someone like you deserved a word with the leader of the guards? And you, don't move."

Tibs glanced over his shoulder as the rogue raised his hands. Tibs smiled at him, then made his face neutral as he told the guard. "Harry's going to want to be there when Alistair's student explains himself."

"Who?"

Tibs fought the groan. Of course, she wouldn't know who Alistair was. She wasn't a guild member, just a guard. Which meant… "He's one of Harry's friends." She couldn't know how much of that was a lie.

"I said—" she growled.

"I'm just going to pick up my sword."

"Leave it where it is." She looked at Tibs again with an expression that made him worry.

"It's my sword," the other said. "I'm not leaving it here for anyone to grab."

"Kid, I don't care if that was a gift from whoever that High One is." She placed a hand on the pommel of her sword, one nearly the length of her leg. "You touch it and I'm cutting you into two."

"But," the other pleaded, and Tibs wondered how such a fight would go. She had the training, the experience, and looked physically stronger, but was that enough to beat the use of essence?

"That's enough! The two of you are coming with me now, and my boss can deal with your whining and your claim at being his friend."

Student of a friend, Tibs thought. What was the point of taking care in the lies he told when people didn't even pay attention to them?

* * * * *

Harry's eyes glowed as he sat behind the massive desk covered with papers, looking at the two of them. Tibs couldn't look away from the papers strewed about. There had to be golds worth of them.

The man sighed. "Alright, Tibs. You got the two of you in front of me. Now tell me why I should care what either of you has to say?"

"He tried to kill me!" the other rogue hurried to say. "I was just minding my business, and he attacked me. I want him thrown in a cell."

Tibs did his best not to smile, but Harry's scowl said he failed. "Take that one to a cell," Harry told the guard who had brought them in, pointing to the other rogue.

"But I just told you he—"

"Do you know what Light does?" Harry demanded, his tone hard. "It shines on lies."

Tibs didn't react as the woman took the still protesting rogue away.

"I hate rogues," Harry grumbled, leaning back in his large chair once the door closed. "Why can't the lot of you go to the fields, pound each other into the ground and call it training like the rest of us do?"

"I don't think sorcerers hit each other," Tibs said and regretted it as the glare intensified.

"Did you set it up so he'd attack you?"

"No." The attack was going to happen regardless of what Tibs did. He'd just guided where it would take place.

The narrowing of Harry's eyes didn't make the glare more pleasant. "You're too damned calm to be telling me the truth. Does the age thing make you immune to essence?"

It didn't make him immune to essence-based attacks. He had the cut on his arm to prove that. But had that been him being affected by the essence, or the sword, which was then used against him. "The clerics heal me."

Harry didn't look convinced, so Tibs told a lie.

"I'm a girl."

Harry made a disgusted face. "So you were that sure this little thing would work out in your favor." He rubbed his face. "Of course, Alistair ends up with the kid who doesn't panic when I glare at him."

"Are you and Alistair friends?"

"No." The glare and strength in the denial reminded Tibs of the thugs back on his Street who wouldn't let others question what they said. Did having light as an element mean Harry couldn't lie? Alistair said that the elements influenced those who used them, but not in a noticeable way.

"Did Jackal put you up to this?"

"Why would he do that?"

"That's not an answer, Tibs," Harry said, his anger sounding tired.

"No, he didn't. No one knows he was trying to kill me."

Harry nodded, annoyed.

"What's between you and Jackal?"

The guard's expression turned so dark Tibs barely kept from fleeing. "That is none of your concern, Tibs. Don't go thinking that because you have Alistair's protection, you can go poking into things that don't concern you. Am I making myself clear?"

Tibs nodded, swallowing hard. Maybe he should follow the advice he gave Khumdar and not poke into his friends' secrets, or the people involved in them.

"Good. Get out of here before I decide to throw you in a cell too."

Tibs ran.

* * * * *

"You are going to pay," Don warned, hands on the table and glaring. Tibs forced himself to maintain eye contact despite the way those eyes made his stomach protest.

"You break it and you buy it," Kroseph said, standing behind Tibs.

Don looked up. "Do you know who I am?"

"Oh, I do. Jackal has a lot of nasty things to say about you, but I don't care about that. What I do care about is what you're doing to the table right now."

Tibs looked at Don's hand. The wood around them was rotting.

Don slowly moved his hands away, continuing to look at Kroseph. "You have no idea what you're stepping into, servant."

"What I'm doing is keeping a Runner from damaging the inn's property," Kroseph replied, sounding bored. "I get that you're all-powerful, but I've seen you eat here. If you want to continue to enjoy my brother's cooking, you're going to respect us and take whatever problem you have with Tibs outside."

Tibs stood.

"No," Don said. "This isn't going to be resolved now. You better hope that what you did doesn't cost me my run, Tibs. If it does, I will exact payment in kind." The sorcerer turned and exited.

"What does he think you did?"

"Set up a chain of events for the purpose of keeping him out of the dungeon."

"And what did you actually do?" he asked.

"I kept his rogue from killing me, then got him to lie in front of Harry, which took no work on my part. And that had him sent to a cell. Don needs a full team to be allowed into the dungeon."

"Can he get a replacement?"

Tibs shook his head. "He can only replace a dead teammate."

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