Dungeon Runner
The Tiger Writes
sciencefiction
sciencefiction
31K5
Tibs survived by picking pockets; until he's caught.
Instead of losing a hand, he's sent away and told he must now survive a dungeon.
How is a kid who knew nothing more than his ...Bottom Rung, Chapter 43
Tibs enjoyed the porridge, possibly too much, as Kroseph brought him a third bowl.
"You're up early," the server said.
"Late, I did stuff through the night," he slowed himself. This was going to be the last bowl today. He shouldn't eat too much.
"Oh?" Kroseph plotted into the chair next to Tibs, "Have you finally found yourself someone?"
Tibs narrowed his eyes at the server, spoonful almost to his mouth. "What has Jackal said?"
"Nothing." Kroseph leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Why, is there something I should know?"
"I'm not interested." Tibs purposely went back to his food.
"You're still young, Tibs. You'll meet someone and then you won't want to ever be without them."
"Shouldn't you be working?" Tibs asked, more bitterly than he'd meant to.
"It's early, Pa isn't going to get on my case until at least a few more tables are busy."
Like Jackal, Kroseph meant well, but Tibs wasn't like them. When he saw the two of them, he couldn't just see their happiness. He saw Kroseph, devastated by Jackal's death. Tibs wouldn't risk causing that to another person. If it meant he'd only have friends, he was okay with that.
Tibs looked at his porridge, his appetite vanishing as how Bardik's viewed the situation he was in sank in fully. It was more extreme than Tibs, but he'd just admitted to himself he was willing to make do without someone special in his life because he had friends.
"Are you okay?" Kroseph asked.
"Something someone said sort of sank in deeper," Tibs answered. He was annoyed at Jackal and his guy when they told him he'd find someone, and he had done the same to Bardik.
"Must have been heavy for it to make you look like this."
Tibs pushed the bowl away.
"Is someone contemplating death?" Kroseph eyed the bowl. "You don't push away food."
"Just Runner stuff. It's not Jackal," he reassured the server.
Kroseph patted Tibs arm. "If he'd told you something that made you push away food, he'd have told me first. Do you want me to take it away?"
Tibs shook his head. "I just need to let it pass."
"It's going to get cold, I can get you another bowl when you're ready."
"It's still good cold."
It was the server's turn to narrow his eyes. "That's a street thing, isn't it? You aren't there anymore."
Tibs wanted to say it wasn't, that it was a Tibs thing. Or that it wasn't a bad thing. "It just is. Food shouldn't go to waste."
"It won't, there's a couple of dogs in the area that'll eat anything."
"I'll finish it."
"Kro!" the innkeeper yelled from the kitchen door. "You know that Runner of yours only gets so much leeway when he's keeping you from work. Talk to him later."
Tibs leaned around Kroseph to wave at the older man.
"Hi, Tibs. Kro, get in here now. Tibs gets no leeway."
The server smiled and stood. "You sure about the bowl?"
Tibs nodded and did what he could to put Bardik out of his mind.
* * * * *
"Hey guys," the woman called.
"Pyan! You're still alive," Tibs called back.