Breaking Step, Draft 1, CH 40 (Patreon)

“Where do you think you’re going?” the voice asked as Tibs walked between the sections of walls partially constructed. The noble’s neighborhood was going to have only three ways in, and this would be one of them. The lower hinges were already in place for when this part was finished and the door that would close them off to the rest of the town.

Maybe they’d be able to lock them in there and never have them bother anyone.

He turned to the voice. He’d sensed the adventurer guarding the way a few blocks away, Fire, somewhere between Epsilon and Delta in power.

She stepped out of the shadows and approached him. She had a sword at her hip, her armor was metal, scoffed in places. But she moved with a lightness that kept Tibs from considering her a fighter outright. Some fighters could move lightly, but there was… something of pretending with the way she was armored.

The way he was trying to pretend he didn’t feel entirely out of place on the ground, this close to nobles.

“I’m expected,” he replied.

She snorted. “I don’t think anyone here ever expects a thief to drop by their houses.”

“I’m a rogue,” Tibs replied, and played a hunch. “Do they expect you to be a rogue too?”

She smirked. “Like knows like, I see. And your eyes only mean you have Water as an element. I stop peddling the guild’s crap when I left them. Those titles are only there to make you think they make you better than we are. We’re thieves, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. It’s a…” She chuckled. “Noble profession in and of itself. And yes, they know what they hired. Who better than a thief to catch other thieves?”

“They aren’t paying the guild for your services? I thought all adventurers had to work for the guild.”

“Only until you pay off what they screwed you over with. So how about you head back the way you came and find your way back where I won’t see you and have to stop you?”

“So there are ways to pay what you owe? I thought they made it so you never managed it, kept you in servitude for always unless you were a sorcerer or got some other group to buy you from them, like the Attendants for the Void adventurers.”

“I see you’ve figured things out. You have to get creative, kid, but it can be done.”

“My name’s Tibs,” he said reflexively, and saw she recognized it.

“Tibs Light-Fingers?” she asked, looking him over anew.

“Yeah.”

“Do you know how to reach Galdain’s house?”

“It’s the one with the slanted rook of dark red tiles, with the four windows on the top floor. The largest faces the rising sun and as a balcony. The walls are so whitewashed they’ll blind anyone walking by with dark wood pillar they should do something about because they are too easy to climb.”

She chuckled. “You think you can recognize it from the ground?”

He shrugged. “If I have to, I’ll get there from the roofs.”

“That’s a good way to get yourself shot. They have archers watching those.”

Tibs rolled his eyes. “It hasn’t done them any good the previous times I’ve walked those roofs.”

Now she studied him, and he realized he might have said too much. “Can I go through? I figure they aren’t going to be happy if I get there and their party’s over.” Except for Tirania being unhappy with him, the idea was appealing. If only he had a valid reason to be delayed.

Where were the would-be assassins when he needed them?

“I’ll escort you. That way, you won’t get lost.”

He thought about protesting. He didn’t need someone watching him to make sure he stuck to the path. But she could be a source of information. “Do any of the adventurers working for the nobles work for the guild?” he asked, walking with her. “I know I saw some of them acting as guards when Sebastian was causing trouble.”

“The Siege. I heard about that. I don’t know about every adventurer here. But I doubt it. The nobles don’t care for the guild. It has more power than they do. As for those you saw, I can’t know. Maybe those nobles didn’t have a choice. Those under duress have to make hard decision. For a noble, that could be one of them. Or… maybe those guild members were being creative in how they got more money. If the guild doesn’t know that you got paid, it can’t claim a cut of it.”

“Doesn’t the guild check where very coin comes from?”

“Do they do that with you?”

“No, but I’m a Runner. They know where my coins come from.” He pointed over his shoulder in the direction of the mountain.

She chuckled. “What about the coins you get when you’re not pillaging the dungeon?”

“I don’t get a lot,” he said. “Just one to prove I got into the house.”

“That coin can still be worth a lot,” she said. “One platinum from a noble’s coffer will cover a chunk of what you’ll end up owing.”

“I only take a silver from them, because they don’t seem to care for copper.”

She eyed him. “Why would you just take one? You could take a pouch full from some of them and they wouldn’t notice it.”

“Do you steal from them?”

“No, but I work for them. They pay me enough not to make it worth the risk. You aren’t in their employ, and trust me, but guild isn’t going to care.”

The guild might not. “Have you met the guard leader?”

She shrugged. “I’ve seen him, but no, I haven’t met him.”

“He’ll care if a noble complains about someone stealing from them, and he’s going to come make my life difficult.”

“Because you’ve been caught doing it before, or… because the city’s thieves report to you?”

“They don’t report to me.”

“That’s not what I hear.”

Tibs glanced at her.

“Word is,” she said, “that if you don’t clear your plans with Light-Finger, he’s going to hand you over to the guard himself.”

“I’ve never done that.” He paused. “She wasn’t a Runner, she was some out-of-town thief who was causing trouble and the guard couldn’t get her. And she tried to get me caught a few times. It was more payback than anything else by then.”

She motioned to the guarded iron fence before the white house with dark beams going up the walls. “That’s it. Galdain’s house. Story is he might get all his children to train here.”

“Great, more nobles,” Tibs grumbled.

“I won’t disagree with the sentiment. Even with how well they pay, I do my best not to deal with them. Have a good evening, and I promise to let you know if I decide to rob someone.”

“Don’t rob anyone,” he replied as she walked away. “You don’t need the training.”

“We always need to keep the fingers busy, Light-Fingers. You know that.”

Great, now he’d have to worry about some Epsilon rogue causing trouble.

Later, he reminded himself.

Right now, he had a different set of trouble to deal with. He had to convince nobles he actually enjoyed their company.

Where was that abyss curse assassin when he needed one?

“Light-Finger?” the guard asked as Tibs approached them.

“Yes.” He moved his jaw to keep it from clenching.

The guard produced a key and unlocked the gate before pulling it open. Tibs eyes the stone wall barely half again as tall as he was, then the gate. What was the point of locking that when the wall was so easy to jump over?

Nobles.

The property was lit with glowing stones on poles, each that wasn’t along the path illuminated flowers around a small tree with chairs. Here and there, a cobble path branched out from the main path toward one of the lights. A stone was anchored on each side of the door, and over each window on this level. It would make it difficult to approach the house unseen if someone looked outside, but none of the other floors had such illumination, making getting in from the roof just a question of bypassing the lock on one of the window.

As he wondered if he was supposed to knock or just enter, the door opened and a woman in plain dress looked at him. “May I have your name?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.

“Tibs. Tibs Light-Fingers.”

“If you’ll come in, Mister Light-Fingers, you are expected.” She stepped out of the way and Tibs entered the house.

The table by the side had carved stones on it. Over it was a mirror in a gold frame. A carpet of bright threads woven in various shapes ran the length of the hall. He sensed the people in a large room to the left; the archway was halfway to the end of the hall. There was enough he had trouble telling essence apart, except for those who had an element, although even they were faint enough Tibs had to pay attention not to lose track of them in the crowd.

With one exception. Someone’s Earth essence was concentrated enough it stood out among everyone else. Epsilon, possibly.

“You’re here!” A man ran out of the closest archway to the right. Tibs had been so focused on the crowd he hadn’t paid attention to that one. His element was Crystal, and he was Upsilon. He was dressed in fine clothes, adorned with a handful of gems, and beamed as he stepped to Tibs, arms spread.

Tibs ducted under the arms and fought the urge to make a sword. Whatever that had been, Tibs was supposed to make a good impression.

The man turned and grinned. Was he really a man? He couldn’t be much older than Jackal. “You’re fast.”

“Surviving the dungeon ensures that,” Tibs replied cautiously. The boy didn’t look to be armed, and Tibs only sense a knife in his boot, but it was enchanted. A loose weave composed mainly of metal, so not a powerful enchantment.

“I so can’t wait for you to take me in.”

Tibs narrowed his eyes, but swallowed his reply. “I shouldn’t be so eager to have the dungeon try to kill you.”

The boy waved the comment aside. “I’m not worried, not when I’ll have you at our side.” He straightened and gave Tibs a small bow. “I’m Lamberto of Fiaschi.” He grinned. “Come on, let me introduce you to the others.”

Tibs stepped out of reach when Lamberto tried to grab his arm and the boy chuckled.

“Come on.” He motioned as he ran for the archway on the left.

Tibs seriously considered ice before following him. That or Fire. It was a harder decision than he’d expected. Knowing the monster he could turn into once iced kept him using that, and reminding himself that burning this entire place down, with the people in it, would hurt some who had nothing to do with how nobles acted. Some of the servants had to be here because they had no choice and not because they hope to leech power from them.

He stepped into the large room.

“Everyone,” Lamberto said loudly, and waited for the conversations to cease and the eyes to turn in their direction. “I would like you to meet the Hero of Kragle Rock, the Savior of the Dungeon, Tibs Light-Fingers!”

He should have burned the place down the moment he stepped in, Tibs decided as the looks turned hungry.