Breaking Step (Dungeon Runner 3)

Breaking Step, Chapter 44

Tibs smirked as another noble lobbed a silver plate in the air. This time, he hit it with a series of ice shards, spinning it and keeping it in the air until he etched a blob of sticking water that stuck it to the wall, then slowly slid down.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lamberto motioned to him, and, stifling a sigh, Tibs bowed to the ohhs and ahhs of those watching. There was a lot of light on those, but some were honest about being impressed.

Gabrielle handed him another goblet of dark liquid, she and the young nobles around her, her friends, he guessed, were drinking. He pulled the corruption out, then made a cap of purity over it so that as he drank, it was nothing more than flavored water.

What she handed him was no different in essence than what she drank, but now was not the time to be drunk. It wouldn't take much to tell them exactly what he thought of their kind if he wasn't completely in control of himself.

He raised the goblet once he'd downed it, and louder applause ensued. It was like they consider his ability to out-drink them more impressive than what he did with essence. He decided against throwing the goblet at the table, and seeing if he could etch water there fast enough to catch it. They didn't seem to mind when he broke something as part of the tests they put him through, but they'd complain if it happened unprompted.

"That was amazing," Lamberto said, following Tibs to a table laden with food. Each time he went to one of them, someone there pointed to one of the small portion and expressed amazement at one thing or another. Or they commented about the artisanal skill of the servants in arranging the table in such an appealing manner. The way some went on about how this color went so well with that dish, or the sheen of the plating, sounded to Tibs more like they were trying to impress than convey anything of use.

Tibs just wished the food was plated as meals, instead of things he needed to pick with his fingers. He was hungry, but no one did more than take the occasional morsel on display. It all tasted good, and Tibs told the servants as much. He simply didn't feel like he could fill himself without the noble looking at him askance.

It shouldn't matter. He didn't care what nobles thought of him.

"Tell me..." the noble looked Tibs over, stopping him from grabbing a second piece of food, "young man. I've watched you throw ice around, but can you do something about this?" He presented the crystal goblet containing an almost clear liquid. "Our host can't seem to keep his drinks cold." The goblet was filled with a mix of essence Tibs was familiar with from all the alcohol he'd sensed at the inn and here. This was concentrated enough it had to be a potent drink.

"Of course he can," Lamberto said enthusiastically. "There's nothing Tibs can't do with his element. Isn't that right?"

Tibs wished the boy would just stop. He couldn't work out what his game was, but it had to be more than making himself important by latching onto Tibs. Did he think Tibs held him in higher esteem for spreading his fame?

The choice taken away from him, Tibs touched the goblet and formed pieces of ice in the liquid until a few were left floating. The man sipped the content, sighed in appreciation, and walked away without so much as a 'thank you'.

Gratitude was beneath such people.

Tibs looked over the crowd while chewing on a piece of bread crust coated with a thin layer of meaty and spicy paste.

Nobles pointed at him while talking with those around them. Smiles were exchanged; chuckles, when they no longer looked at him. He could find out what they said. No one here had air as their element, so he couldn't be noticed, but he didn't care what they had to say.

He was surprised at how many of them were armed. Beyond the usual knife everyone carried, many had an extra in their boots or hidden at their back, or in bracers the way he had one in his. A woman even had a metal needle in her hair, masquerading as those that held her braids in place, but were made of wood. A few had swords at their hips that lacked the decorations Tibs saw on those nobles simply looking to impress carried.