How much power do the Thirteen Heroes have? We know that physically and magically, they are all beyond what any of us can imagine. But politically, the five that maintain their realms rarely issue decrees, leaving the governance to whatever system they put into place. It has been almost a century since any of the five issued a decree. Do they still watch over their Principalities, or have they quietly moved on like their companions?

  – Beryl Grittleview

  “We are now in power-saving mode. Artificial gravity will be set to 50%. Make appropriate adjustments to your routines.”

  As always, Apex sounded grumpy when making ship-wide announcements, but Naven was pretty sure that was a result of his voice module. The dragon was not friendly to most of the crew, but he was a pragmatic beast. He didn’t want his crew injured, or they wouldn’t be able to do their jobs.

  Only a few minutes later, Naven felt the subtle shift of the inertial compensators easing up as Apex cut his thrust. They were drifting now, and the dragon was already reducing his power needs to make it easier to hide his heat signature. Thrust was the largest contribution to heat, but processing magic created heat, and the life support kept the atmosphere in the ship at a comfortable room temperature. Naven suspected that it would start to get very chilly, soon. Or warmer, depending on how the Draconis vessels were built.

  Another minute or two, and he felt the fluttery feeling of his body adjusting, the faint dizziness of reorienting to the new gravity running through his senses. As an experienced spacer, he compensated without a second thought, moving more carefully and deliberately from the window to slide into a chair at the small table. At least he’d been given a nicer, larger berth when he’d joined the crew, however provisionally.

  The door buzzed, indicating someone was there wanting to be let in. Which meant Sallus, of course. Nobody else except maybe Pan would visit him, and he was betting that Pan was coping with the sudden gravity reduction much less smoothly. Poor kid had no real spacer experience, just a lot of guts.

  After a few moments of waffling on whether or not he wanted to talk to the sociopathic elf, Naven gave in and sighed out loudly, “Enter!”

  As expected, the door slid open to reveal Sallus, the blonde elf stepping in with the light and careful move of an experienced spacefarer before easing into the other chair. Naven watched her adjust her posture, and knew she’d hooked her ankle around the chair leg just like he’d done. Not a surprise, after what he’d learned.

  “I’m not angry at you.”

  The words were surprisingly mellow – almost kind. Naven’s eyebrows lifted, and he leaned back in his chair, looking the elf over again.

  She sighed heavily. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m driven and willing to sacrifice, but I understand where you’re coming from. I just think it’s wrong and hypocritical.”

  Naven crossed his arms. “You sure know how to open a conversation. How is ‘not wanting to kill innocent civilians’ wrong and hypocritical? I’m sworn to protect. I’m bending the rules enough as it is by allowing assaults on drug trafficking ships without due process.”

  The elf smirked and shook her head, resting her chin on one hand as she propped herself up on the table with it. “Do you really believe that matters? If some high noble declared the ships guilty, would they really stop to do the paperwork? Rules like that are meant to stop the common folk, not the elite, and you know it.”

  Sallus gestured toward the window with her free hand. “That ship was registered to Gavin Kesstrop. Old nobility amongst the humans, but probably not one you’ve heard of. I don’t know everything he was involved in, but I do know he enjoyed throwing parties where he’d make a spectacle of throwing two starving goblins they picked up off the street into a little arena, and make them fight to the death for the promise of food. He was probably into drugs and human experimentation, too. Not sure about those, but I’d say the goblin gladiator thing was enough. And his crew all knew it.”

  Closing his eyes, Naven drew in a deep breath. “First, I only have your word that this is the case. Second, even if it is true, it isn’t our job to make that judgement. At least the smugglers can fight back.” He opened his eyes again. “I know the Coalition isn’t perfect, but that doesn’t mean I can just ignore its laws all the time.”

  “And I don’t think the Coalition is evil,” Sallus countered, surprising the human. “It is deeply corrupt, and heavily favors the wealthy and powerful, who live by a different set of rules… but the vast majority of the Coalition’s citizens live in reasonable comfort and stability. That does count for something. When I bring down the government, what replaces it may not be better for everyone. It may be much worse. Millions or billions may die in the chaos. I can’t say that it’s better, but it needs to be done.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Naven narrowed his eyes. “Needs to…” He stopped himself before he interrogated her about that. He’d known she was ruthless, but this was getting very strange. A woman willing to admit she was probably going to hurt a lot of people, but it needed done anyway? “Why?”

  She shook her head. “That is a long story that I don’t think you’re ready for, yet.”

  Slumping back into his chair, Naven groaned. “Fine. But I don’t see how helping people is wrong or hypocritical. It’s what I took my oath to do. You, meanwhile, murdered my crew because you needed supplies. You could have at least stolen some without the death.”

  To this, Sallus just smiled. “Maybe, but it wouldn’t have been as fast, and we were low on fuel. But this is exactly what I mean.” She straightened up and pointed a finger at the Navy man. “You’re there to protect people? To help people? So if we’d attacked Crimson Rock instead of you, would you have rushed to drive us off and save all those innocent people who lived there?”

  The question made Naven stiffen. “We… didn’t have jurisdiction, it would cause an incident—”

  “No one would complain if you came to their rescue, Moongale.” Sallus interrupted him with a loud slap of her hand on the table. “You were actually there to protect Coalition interests. If we’d attacked Crimson Rock, it may have convinced them to join the Coalition. You criticize me for treating lives as numbers that are a useful means to an end… but you were doing the exact same thing. You just had the excuse of following orders to hide behind, and now you don’t.”

  He stiffened at the accusation. He knew she was just manipulating things to make him doubt himself, but she also wasn’t exactly wrong. That was precisely the reason why he had been there… the only difference was he didn’t really think about the cost, back then. Now he did.

  So he changed the subject.

  “How do you know about the goblin arena fights, anyway?” The accusation was sudden, intended to pivot the conversation away from his own self-analysis… though Naven realized the topic was not at all pleasant. He didn’t like goblins, in general, but the idea of forcing them to fight for scraps still turned his stomach.

  The short bark of a laugh startled Naven, as Sallus waved the question away. “How else? I was invited to one. You don’t found something the size of the Cult of Renewal without a lot of capital. I know a good number of the wealthiest people in the galaxy.” Her lip curled up in a smirk again. “Though they don’t always know me by my real name.”

  An uneasy flutter turned Naven’s stomach at that statement. This lead into his next question, but it wasn’t looking good. “It also takes time, and you were on a first name basis with Gristlemaw, who hasn’t been seen for a century. Even you seemed surprised he was still alive. How old are you, Sallus?”

  The elf fluttered fingers at him. “Dear boy, haven’t you heard it’s impolite to ask a lady her age?” Her playful smile turned more serious. “Four hundred and seventy two… as of three days ago.”

  Naven bit his lip. Elves did age more slowly, but he knew they rarely lasted more than three centuries. Of course, the heroes had lived much longer, but those were the exception. He swallowed hard. “Immortality?”

  “Nothing so grand.” She sank back into the chair, tucking her hands into her lap as she looked at the man. “Sometimes, there are attempts at it. None have succeeded, but I’m the closest they’ve come. But no, I’m not immortal. I can feel it deep down… and if I’m like any of the others, then when my age catches up to me it will be fast. When I do start to age properly again, it’ll all be over in a couple years if I’m lucky. Less if I’m… not.”

  He heard the implication in her voice. When her time did arrive, she didn’t expect it to be pleasant. He almost felt sorry for her… almost.

  With a heavy sigh, Naven rubbed his cheeks and tried to focus. “This is all much bigger than I thought.” His gaze settled on Sallus again. “Gristlemaw said you were looking for Tifello. You want to kill him, don’t you? That’s why you and Apex are working together. You both want him dead. Are you telling me that Tifello is a horrible person? That Parth is evil and gave away those books because of it?”

  “You’re making some assumptions.” Sallus shook her head slightly. “Not all of them wrong, but no… Tifello isn’t terrible, as far as I know. Neither is Parth… if anything he’s probably the most pleasant of the heroes I’ve met, and I’ve met at least half of them by now.”

  Naven groaned and sank back, rolling his head backward to stair at the ceiling. “Right. Yet Parth just happened to be carrying around forbidden books on necromancy that were supposedly destroyed centuries ago. Sounds like a really nice guy.”

  “Is that so hard to believe, that a man who has lived for thousands of years doesn’t really think the same way you or I think?” The elf made a faint tsking noise. “You’ve spoken to Apex enough. You know he doesn’t think like us, and he’s making a marked effort to talk to us in a way we can understand.”

  “He’s a dragon,” Naven countered, sitting up again to glare at her. “That’s completely different.”

  Sallus laughed, tucking her arms behind her head to just smile at him. “Is it, though? You yourself are questioning why he had the books, aren’t you? Or are you wondering if that was a lie? It wasn’t, and I think you know it makes too much sense. I think, deep down, everyone knows those two books can’t really be destroyed. They keep coming back. That’s what makes them so dangerous.”

  This was way beyond Naven’s pay grade. He let out a frustrated grumble, trying to take it all in. Finally, he just shook his head again. “I don’t get it. You say the Coalition isn’t as bad as what’s to come, but it has to be overthrown. Then you‘re casually talking about the heroes like they do horrible things all the time, but say they aren’t evil. One minute you’re making too much sense, and the next it’s all inconsistent.”

  The elf smiled. “I didn’t say they weren’t evil. Some of them probably are. Others maybe not. I don’t think they are evil by nature of being the heroes, or anything. That isn’t what I was saying at all. The Coalition isn’t evil, neither are the heroes.”

  She shrugged lightly.

  “But they are wrong.”