Breaking Step (Dungeon Runner 3)

Breaking Step, Chapter 37

The cheers that went up, as Tibs reached the bottom of the stairs, nearly sent him back up, anger flaring. How could they be happy to see him after what he'd put them through? How he'd made them nothing but infantry in his game Conquest against the guild. They'd all become expandable in achieving his goals.

He put a foot before him, forcefully heading to his table, fist and teeth clenched. Someone slapped his back, and Tibs bristled as she expressed how happy she was he was better. He shouldered a man aside as he placed a hand on Tibs's shoulder; the smile promising yet another show of support, and—

Tibs spun to face the tables and yelled, "What the fuck is wrong with all of you?"

That silenced the room. Only for conversations to restart again as he headed for his team's table; subdued, but still about him.

What did it take for them to stop? Fire would do it. The thought popped up, and Tibs hesitated before pushing it back down. It would, but as angry as he was, where would he stop? Once there was nothing left of the world?

Water would cool his anger, make all this bearable. But how would he stop himself from going too far in that direction also? Yes, it made him dangerous to everyone around him, but there had been a comfort in not caring about that. Only, would it still be there? Would he be able to trust that state, knowing what he'd done? Almost did, tried to do? Hoped to succeed in?

How had Jackal survived?

"How are you—" Don started.

"Don't," Tibs snapped, dropping into his seat.

"Okay." The sorcerer grinned as he raised his hand in defeat, and Tibs narrowed his eyes. That had been too easy. When had Don started smiling like that, and why were the others smirking?

Jackal looked fine, smirking as he drank. Now was not the time to ask about it. When they were alone, so the others didn't learn just how far Tibs had gone.

"What happened while I was in bed?" Getting an update was a safe subject. It would keep them from asking how he felt, and after ten days of wasting his time in bed, there had to be a lot he needed to catch up on. If nothing else, he had to know how much Irdian had—

The askance looks they exchanged told him it wasn't good.

"Out with it," He instructed as a steaming plate of meats and vegetables were placed before him, along with a tankard. "I'm not—" the sweat and spicy smell punched through his anger, and his stomach took charge. He moaned as the spices burned his mouth, with the sweetness accenting their bite. Before he knew it, the plate was empty, and Tibs motioned to Kroseph with it.

"You should take it easy," Don said as Tibs finished his ale. "You only had broth for a few days, if even that."

"I'll be fine." He glared at the sorcerer. Suffusing himself with Purity was safe since he couldn't be tempted to over do it. There was only so much work he could endure.

* * * * *

He sighed in relief, pushing the empty third serving, and leaned back in the chair. A full stomach made everything better. Even the never ending talks of him at the other tables. Something about if he was safe to approach, now that he was fed; from the snippets that reached him.

That would depend entirely on why they approached him. He didn't have time for sympathy and well-wishing. There was too much to do.

"Now I want to hear what happened," he told Jackal, then sipped his ale.

"Without you to keep them on it, not a lot of the rogues kept up with protecting Merchant Row, or going after the troublemakers who slipped by the guards. Because of that, some of the merchant didn't pay when Darran went collecting on your behalf."