A sumptuous breakfast appeared the next morning, laid out in the common area of the suite, by Servants Heath neither heard nor saw. It was a good reminder that despite all he had seen and done, there were plenty of people in the Core who could swat him like a fly. Including virtually every adult in the estate.

  The food was delicious, not that he had expected anything less. Each dish was still piping hot and fresh, despite the distance it had traveled and the time it spent sitting on the table. He could only identify the eggs and toast, but that didn’t stop him from diving into a pile of blue vegetables that tasted like fried cheese, and a fuschia drink that stimulated his mana when he took a sip.

  Copperfield and Jenny Mae were just as adventurous, perhaps having the same idea as Heath: they may as well take advantage while they were here. Emerald was more reserved, picking at the edges of their toast and eyeing a grey goop like it was going to attack.

  Heath was even given enough time afterwards to relax and digest a bit after stuffing himself. At the exact moment he was ready to transition, a crisp knock sounded at the door.

  He made eye contact with each of his crewmembers, all of whom subtly backed further away. Defeated with only those glances, Heath walked over and swung the door open to find Noborov waiting with his hands clasped behind his back, like he would happily wait forever for a response to his summons.

  “Good morning,” Heath said when nothing else came to mind.

  “Yes, quite.” The Underbutler gave a nod that was not quite a bow. “Your presence has been requested by Lord Althalas.”

  At the simple statement, Heath realized his eagerness to start negotiations had been papering over nerves, only apparent now that the moment was upon him. “Please give us a moment to pull ourselves together and we’ll be right with you.”

  He half-turned to tell the others to get ready when Noborov cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon for the misunderstanding sir, Lord Althalas has requested just your own presence. As honored guests, your crew is free to explore the estate while you are occupied.”

  “Right.” Heath patted himself down to ensure everything was all set and to give himself a minute to breathe.

  When he had explored the walk-in closet, he had found both his own clothes, steamed and pressed to perfection, and a selection that must have been provided by the army of invisible Servants. All exactly his size, and ranging from athletic wear to full suits that he couldn’t begin to figure out how to put on. He had chosen an outfit somewhere in between, with trousers made by his own mother and a shirt and jacket he thought made him look like a dashing Captain from a period vid, sailing across oceans instead of between the stars.

  Nothing was wrong with his outfit so he cast about for anything else he might use to delay. Jenny Mae looked heartbroken that she didn’t get to go along, and hurried forward, pressing her pad in his hands and quickly pulling up the negotiation documents she had written. In contrast, Emerald and Copperfield both wore looks of unabashed relief upon realizing they wouldn’t have to join.

  Heath firmed up his shoulders. They needed him to be the Captain now. “I’ll see you all later,” he said, forcing as much ease into his tone as he could. Then he turned and waved at Noborov to lead on.

  “The master has asked you to join him in his private meditation grotto. No one will disturb you there.” The Underbutler faced forward, with Heath left to trail behind like an obedient puppy.

  He didn’t mind. Instead he took the time to review every part of Jenny Mae's notes he could while not bumping into anything. They had discussed what to ask for at length, but a little cram session before the real test never hurt anyone.

  The pair walked until they came to a sight that stopped Heath in his tracks. The estate was carved into a mountain range, he knew that. They had walked miles through tunnels and secret passageways the day before. But at any point in time, it was easy to forget they weren’t in a regular castle. If any castle could be called regular. Especially with high ceilings and plenty of light to combat any sense of claustrophobia.

  All that flew out of Heath’s mind as he stepped into the hollow interior of one of the mountains. A cylindrical room, at least a quarter mile across, soared high above his head and deep below his feet. Surrounding, he could see entryways and barred passages, glass walls filled with glowing plants, and seating areas tastefully arranged and filled with members of the Althalas clan or their retainers. Delicate bridges – no railings – spanned the gap at different levels, branching off of the walkways between various ramps and staircases that seemed to be the way most residents traversed the structure.

  “The public areas do tend to have that effect.” It was the first time Heath heard a bit of humor creep into the servant’s tone.

  He muttered some response in agreement, still trying to take the whole structure in. “Lord Althalas has his personal office in the public wing?”

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  “Ah, yes.” His guide executed a smart turn and walked off again, leaving Heath to follow if he wanted to catch the rest of the explanation. “It gives the rest of the House some comfort to know he is accessible. In theory.”

  Heath wasn’t sure what that meant, but had a horrible premonition he was about to find out. They approached the first in a series of staircases that looked to stretch up to infinity, and that premonition turned to dread. “Where is this meditation grotto, I would have thought the lower levels.”

  That earned him actual eye contact and a raised eyebrow before Noborov started climbing. “The Althalas family is renowned for many things, but their traditional focus has always been ice magic. His Lordship is at the top.”

  Heath looked up. And up. And up some more. Two miles? The structure itself was bursting at the seams with mana and enchantments. For all Heath knew it could be even higher than that. His distance estimations tended towards the stellar scale.

  There wasn’t any choice but to follow. Up the first staircase and the second. Somewhere around the tenth, Heath realized he might actually make it. His stats weren’t what they’d been when he started out as a Captain. Even without a focus in Power or Toughness, he was still a level 50. He was well past what an unClassed could hope to accomplish.

  Around the twentieth staircase, he was getting dizzy, and suspicious. This was taking ages. There was no way everyone just walked to the top whenever they had to chat with Lord Althalas. Noborov would have had to spend his entire career sprinting up and down were that the case.

  At the thirtieth level, he was feeling the burn. Improved stats didn’t make someone immune to physical exertion, even if it moved the benchmarks. His mood soured in tandem with his muscle aches. Maybe the point was to just make him show up sweaty and tired. This wasn’t Heath’s first negotiation. First with Walt, then as a Captain in his own right, he had met with all kinds, and argued plenty of prices and bonus payments. The stakes were higher but the tactics were the same. If the opponent was on the back foot, it was easier to earn an advantage.

  Heath lost track of the staircases. He focused instead on holding onto every piece of wisdom he’d ever gotten from his uncle when it came to contracts. Further back, he pulled every memory he could recall of his mother interacting with the Classers that came to her for commissions.

  He was so lost in thought, and the monotony of their route, that he almost missed when Noborov stopped in front of him. It took Heath a few creative steps to avoid plowing directly into the Underbutler, who had just climbed as many stairs as Heath and who was still perfectly pressed without a hair out of place.

  “Right this way, sir.”

  There were still plenty of levels above them, but Heath didn’t question his reprieve as they ducked into a side passage and came to a sealed door, a Guards standing to either side. Both radiated menace with auras that had all of Heath’s defensive instincts bristling. At least rank 3 but more likely higher. He felt confident in assuming that none of the hundreds of residents they had passed that morning would be getting through this pair.

  Except the one on the right gave Noborov a curt nod and opened the metal door behind them. Heath stepped through, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he faced down their scrutiny. The door slammed shut with a clang far too reminiscent of a death knell.

  Inside was another teleportation circle. He might not have recognized it if not for the experience of the previous day. His feet stuttered as he realized it was really only the previous day. With all they had seen, it felt like they must have been at the estate for a week already. This circle was smaller than the one they had taken from the Loon’s berth, but the patterns were the same. As was the gleaming gold inlay. Heath wondered just how much argo went into the magitech in this place. And what the Loon could look like with even a fraction of a fraction of that bounty.

  There was nothing else of note in the room, so he hardly needed Noborov’s instruction to stand in the center.

  “If I may say, sir,” the servant offered. “You did well.” Those words and a small smile were all Heath could register before space twisted.

  Cold hit him like a punch to the solar plexus. He couldn’t breathe. Frigid air sliced through his clothing, literally. Small gashes tearing open and exposing skin beneath. His knees buckled as the onslaught succeeded where stairs had failed, and pushed every thought except survival from his mind.

  His knees never hit the stone. A pair of strong hands had caught his arms and hauled him back upward. At the same time, the cold abated. Not entirely. It was still plenty uncomfortable. But no longer was the air itself attempting murder.

  Heath gasped for breath as he looked around, head whipping wildly back and forth as he tried to take it in. The ‘grotto’ was not some cave tucked into the highest level of the mountain’s interior. They were outside. A flat plane of stone, where there once might have been a mountain peak. As though it had been sliced off by a massive sword. Maybe the same one that had crafted the Loon’s perch. Ice magic indeed.

  The second thing he noticed was the view. He could see from one horizon to the other, the curve of the world apparent from this altitude. There had been wonders and dangers alike in his journeys on the Wandering Loon, but those were usually through a view screen. It was easy to forget the beauty of a planet’s surface when they spent so much time soaring past high above. Heath doubted that would hold in the future, not when he had Inann as a standard.

  Heath had woefully misunderstood the situation, comparing Lord Althalas to the Merchants, and less savory Classers he had worked with in the last few years. Here was a man who stood at the top of the world, lord of all he surveyed and plenty more besides. The shiver that went down his spine wasn’t from the cold.

  After regaining some composure, he was able to take in the other residents of the meditation space. It was Ekaterina that had caught him, and who was now looking at him like he was an idiot for being impressed. Heath could spot the look easily after so long in the noble’s company. He gestured around, indicating the absurdity of the whole thing, not wanting to be the one to break the silence. Her expression softened just a bit, as she nodded at him, like a comrade in arms preparing for battle.

  As one, they turned to the only other person present. Lord Althalas stood at the edge of the grotto, looking west as the sun slowly approached its zenith behind him, the mountains leaving wide swaths of the world still in shadow. Hands clasped behind his back, his outfit was the kind of billowing and complex formalwear that Heath had eschewed that morning, with a perfect copy of the Althalas family crest etched in faint thread along his broad back. Court clothes.

  What had felt like a dashing Captain’s outfit when he set out was now a tattered, sweaty thing hanging limply off Heath’s frame. Too late for anything else.

  Heath grasped at the edges of his thoughts and forced them back into the center of his mind. All the strategy from Jenny Mae, and the confidence he had while walking up the stairs. The scale might be mind-boggling, but he had been right in those instincts. For comfort, he tapped into [Ship Merge]. Just a little. Just for some comfort from the Loon, which flowed easily. Her confidence in him was absolute.

  The others could probably tell he was using a Class Skill. Ekaterina was freakishly good at noticing, and Heath was not fool enough to think the immortal in front of him would miss the ripple of energy. He kept the Skill up anyway. If he’d learned anything about nobles it was that leveraging every advantage needed no justification.

  Heath made to step forward but Ekaterina’s arm shot out and held him in place. Wordlessly, she pointed to a series of etched runes on the textured floor. Apparently the safe zone did not extend beyond the entryway.

  So they waited, while Lord Althalas continued his meditation. Must be nice to rule the world.