Heath wore what he considered to be nice clothes, in that they were not his ship-board coveralls. His mother had made them, and she was a respected Tailor. A perfectly respectable shirt and pants, with a thin all-purpose jacket over the top, a few decorative flourishes picked out in the seaming. He frantically analyzed every stitch to determine if they were fancy enough for dinner with the Althalas family heads.

  There was nothing to be done about it. He couldn’t go all the way back to the Loon to pull out his never-touched formal wear, and he would not be asking anyone on the Althalas estate for a change of clothes. No one else appeared bothered, so he shoved his mother’s imagined disappointment to the back of his mind and focused.

  Another Servant had appeared, silently shepherding them to whatever passed for a dining room amongst the nobles. Probably an entire moon was reserved for the purpose, and they would have to go even further from the Loon to get there.

  At least this time the walk was short, and he had less time to catastrophize. A quick ten minutes and they were left outside a door, the Servant vanishing with perfect discretion.

  Ekaterina took a deep breath, their only warning sign before she threw open the doors and sauntered in. There was nothing to do but follow. They were a crew, friends, family, and that meant no one got left behind. Or ahead, as it were.

  The room shocked Heath,mostly in how normal everything looked. It was built to a regular-human scale, for one, and not like they were expecting a troop of giants to show up for dinner. The table was one that would be only slightly too big for his mother’s apartment, eight places set out. Three of which were already taken.

  At the head sat a man that could only be Lord Althalas. Heath had done some research on the way, and listened when Jenny Mae summarized her much more thorough investigation. Aleksandr Althalas, rank eight Frost God. He’d made a name for himself outside noble circles when he single-handedly turned the Veringian Horde away from the Empire. He sported the same features Heath was coming to associate with blood-members of the Althalas clan, but there was something else to the man that was hard to pin down. When he caught and held Heath’s gaze, there were entire worlds swirling in the depths.

  Beside him was a woman every bit as intimidating as he was. Yara Nowak had married into the family over two centuries ago, making headlines as she gave up what were high odds of becoming a family head in her own right. Blonde where her husband was dark, twinkling brown eyes where her husband’s were grey shards of ice, she surveyed the group like she could see every inch of their souls. Which she might be able to do. Heath had no idea what kind of Class powers a Glacial Soulbinder might have access to, and he hoped to never find out.

  The final person at the table could have been Ekaterina’s twin, save the several decades of age between them. Same razor sharp cheekbones and slight disdain for everything around her. Her power was at least rank three, and likely higher, though Heath had no real way of feeling any subtle variance with that much of a level disparity. Dominika Althalas was well on the way to following in her parent’s footsteps.

  Heath braced for the onslaught. Three powerful Classers, guaranteed to be upset with them before they ever met. Who controlled more territory, money, and raw power than Heath’s puny little brain could conceive of. Who could break him with only half a thought.

  “Sweetheart!” Yara exclaimed. “You’re back!”

  The woman, perfectly capable of destroying planets given some time and preparation, jumped up and wrapped Ekaterina in a full body hug.

  “Mother, please,” their Wizard begged. To no avail. Yara swayed back and forth, dragging Ekaterina with her and ignoring any resistance.

  “It’s been so long. We expected you back ages ago.”

  Heath felt like he was floating, looking down at the scene from above as this woman, centuries older and hundreds of levels stronger than his own mother, repeated the same kind of greeting he’d earned on his own belated trip home.

  “Please come and sit.” Ekaterina’s father had all the reserve her mother lacked as he took pity on Heath and the others and interrupted the moment.

  The crew shuffled to their places at the table, probably breaking eighteen rules of deportment as they all grabbed for the nearest chair. Except Ekaterina, who was forced into the seat beside her mother, despite efforts to the contrary. In the stir, Heath found himself sitting at the foot of the table, confronted with one of the most terrifying men in the Empire every time he looked up. He did his best to hide the intimidation, his mother’s advice ringing in his ears, but he was under no illusions he succeeded.

  At some unseen signal, more of the unobtrusive Servant Classers entered, piling the table high with food Heath failed to recognize, all of which smelled amazing. As they left the room again, the Althalas family began serving themselves, which Heath tentatively took as a sign to do the same. He was nibbling on a fried cracker that was so spicy his eyes and nose both watered, when conversation resumed.

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  “Tell us everything,” Yara commanded.

  Clearing her throat, Ekaterina began. This was the first time Heath and the others had heard the story of the first leg of the noble’s Journey. Which had apparently consisted of being shuttled around in luxury, and carefully led through easy dungeons, being fed individual monsters and never any level of real risk allowed by the rank-two minder.

  At the story of Ekaterina choosing to leave the group, Aleksander grunted out “Good. The official chaperones are too afraid of their charges dying to be any use. Knew you’d lose them.”

  “Hush. Keep going, sweetheart.”

  Heath was beginning to realize the kind of eternal test that Ekaterina’s upbringing must have been. The tale continued, as Ekaterina attempted the exact opposite of Heath’s own version to his mother, emphasizing the combat and skimming over most of the cargo contracts and long stretches of travel time.

  To his shock, she even admitted to her theft, citing an ‘opportunity too important to miss’. Heath had gathered that noble morality was centered around honor within battle and amongst avowed friends. And ruthless backstabbing in every other scenario. For the Althalas clan, her sin was not the theft, but that she had not gotten away with it. Heath supposed it made some sort of sense. In an insular culture with combat Classes so highly prized, there would be some number of Rogues, Thieves, and Assassins that would have to be justified one way or another.

  By the time she finished the tale, both dinner, and dessert had been taken away. Heath mourned the pastry he had finished all too quickly, even as he listened to Ekaterina bring up their predicament.

  “Commandeering the Wraith was a necessary act, but it has put limitations on how we can operate, and has curtailed our leveling opportunities.”

  “Oh?” There was no way Aleksandr Althalas didn’t know what they were doing, but apparently he was going to force them to say it.

  Heath recognized his cue to step in. This was Ekaterina’s family, but the crime had been his, and so was the responsibility to handle it. “That’s right, sir. Jenny Mae and the Loon were in trouble. We had a chance and we took it, but now we’re in a bit of a bind.”

  Having those eyes staring him down from the other end of the table wasn’t going to stop him, as much as he wished he was on the bridge of the Loon, with a nice comforting hull between him and the noble. “We were hoping you could help us make whatever amends are necessary, so we can continue on our own paths.”

  “Well young man, that’s quite a favor you’re asking.”

  “Father –”

  Heath cut her off. Ekaterina would step in but Heath had to be a Captain now, and not just a friend. “We aren’t asking for a favor. We’re looking for an exchange.”

  “How marvelous.” Yara smiled into her wine goblet.

  “Do explain,” Aleksandr invited.

  Heath looked around, at the open hall and the doors through which plenty of people had come throughout the meal.

  Sensing his concern, or perhaps just wanting to keep family matters private, Lord Althalas pointed towards the ceiling, where Heath only just noticed a series of enchantments, filled in with a matte metal that blended with the stone around it. “We won’t be overheard,” he told them.

  Maybe Heath should have figured Ekaterina wouldn’t be so open in front of the Servants but there was a lot on his mind. “Right. Then I’m here to propose a trade.”

  He reached into his coat and traced the condenser before pulling it out. The Wandering Loon and her crew had received more than their fair share of luck. Giving up the charm, even if it was for a good cause, felt wrong. Worse, it was a reminder of Walt, and the legacy Heath was still trying to live up to.

  He pulled it out anyway. Heath would forge his own legacy. The condenser gleamed in the moonlight now streaming in through the glass doors that barred the way to a generous balcony. Each speck of gold in the black orb twinkled like a star.

  Between one blink and the next, Lord Althalas was looming over Heath. He jerked back, but there was nowhere to go, the ornate chair trapping him against the table. His heart hammered, his breath turned short. Fear, and the overwhelming presence of the other man’s aura sent Heath’s body into overdrive.

  A gentle tsk cut the silence. The pressure left as soon as it arrived, the noble returning to his spot at the head of the table faster than Heath could follow, while Yara sipped her wine and sent a quelling look at her over-eager husband.

  “I believe we can work something out,” Lord Althalas said.

  Heath found himself shaking, but managed a jerky nod.

  Conversation drifted then, Yara and Dominika doing their best to talk about anything except what Heath had just revealed. When he had control of himself enough to look around, he caught Ekaterina’s eye and earned a subtle nod. Not a complete disgrace then.

  After retiring to another sitting room for yet more talking, Heath and the others were led off to a guest suite by another Underbutler, while Ekaterina was herded deeper into the family wing. It was an impressive accommodation, though the knowledge of secret tunnels removed any true sense of comfort. As she was pulled away, Ekaterina had assured him that bedchambers were considered sacrosanct in that regard, but since she hadn’t known about the tunnel from earlier, Heath chose to remain skeptical.

  Four bedrooms, each with their own cavernous baths, closets, and seating areas, complete with wet bar and tea service. One of them combined was more living space than the Loon currently boasted, and this was just one of the many such areas tucked away for groups that would want to stick close together.

  Heath leaned back on the leather couch, sinking into the cushion that was the perfect balance between firm and giving, and started to laugh. The others looked at him askance for a moment, before joining in. The absurdity of it all was just too much.

  “A mountain range!” Jenny Mae sputtered between giggles. “A whole mountain range!”

  “These are just the bedrooms,” Copperfield added. “You know with Kat’s obsession with training there’s at least one mountain that’s just full of old masters ready to beat the crap out of anyone who comes in.”

  “You’ll be on the wrong end of an ass-kicking yourself if she hears you using the nickname,” Emerald said. They were still sitting tense, but at least Heath saw a smile teasing at the edge of their lips.

  Copperfield grinned at the rebuke, but made no other comment. When the mirth had died down, he asked the question on everyone’s mind. “You think it will work?”

  Emerald scoffed. “Lord Althals almost broke the chair. What’s a little legal help when it comes to cutting a millennium dungeon down to half its reset? It will work. Frozen hells, they might try to adopt Heath.”

  “No thanks.” Heath shuddered. “I notice cousin Viktor didn’t get a dinner invite, but I’m not interested in having him and ten thousand other people breathing down my neck.”

  Copperfield nodded. “Too much heat in the Core.” Not exactly what Heath meant but sure. “Doesn’t matter. We get in, we milk these people for all we can, and we get back out. On the Rim and delving again in less than a year.” He predicted.

  “Here's to that,” Heath agreed, the others echoing the comment. Things would be back to normal soon, just the Loon, their crew, and whatever cargo Heath could pick up, exploring and delving out on the Rim.