Breaking Step (Dungeon Runner 3)

Breaking Step, Chapter 36

"What happened?" Don's voice, concerned. "Where did that wall come from?"

Tibs was in Jackal's arms, eyes closed, exhausted, but unable to fall unconscious.

"I must have stepped on a trigger," Jackal said. "You know me, the klutz."

Tibs wanted to tell Jackal to stop talking. He was trying too hard. But he didn't have the energy. Jackal always tried too hard when he lied. Unless he was serious about it, Tibs realized. Then, he was terrifyingly good at it. So good that in the heat of the fight, Tibs hadn't paid attention to the light on his words; he'd just wanted to...

It should be funny. It should be scary. But Tibs couldn't seem to feel all that much right now.

"How did you bring it down?" Don asked, still concerned.

Jackal shrugged. "I got lucky."

No such thing.

It was interesting to Tibs how often people relegated their planning to something that didn't exist. It should...something.

Only he didn't feel all that much right now.

This was different from when he'd been iced. He wasn't channeling any element, so it was good he couldn't open his eyes. His emotions were there, raw, scratching at all of him, but he was drained. Drained of physical energy and of essence. He'd been so lost in his rage he hadn't realized Jackal had gotten him to use up all of his nearly endless reserve.

It should have been enough to kill Jackal.

He had tried to kill Jackal.

If he had only a little energy, he'd use it to throw himself into the abyss for that.

He wanted to cry; to bawl his eyes out.

It was probably funny. He'd spent months iced, because he didn't want to feel anything. Now that he could, he didn't have the energy to manage it.

"How are none of you worried about what just happened?" Don asked. Annoyed and suspicious this time.

"It's the dungeon." Mez's voice. "It's not like it's the first time it changed things."

"Sometimes, it is best to simply appreciate that events work out in our favor." Khumdar.

"But if the dungeon changed this." Don said, exasperated; worried. "It might—"

"Don, drop it." Jackal snapped.

Don's grumbled reply was indistinct, but Tibs knew it for the sign that the dropping was temporary that it was.

They walked. Tibs didn't know how long. It could have been seconds, or hours. It couldn't be days. Then a cool breeze brushed his face. Light shone through his eyelids.

Jackal moved suddenly, jerking Tibs to as much awareness as he could manage at the moment. "He's fine," he snapped.

"Then why are you carrying him?" an older sounding woman asked sternly. Essence moved around him, purity. He should keep it from sensing him, from learning his secrets, but he didn't have the strength.

No, purity couldn't learn his secret.

Thinking was so difficult.

"...essence exhaustion." Khumdar said, in response to a question Tibs missed. He should pay more attention. There might have been an important detail there.

They moved again, and the sun heated him, comforted him.

Tibs wanted neither.

He didn't deserve warmth or comfort.