CHAPTER

24

Ardor Benn was getting used to the dramatic response that two Glassminds received while walking down the streets of Beripent’s Northern Quarter. Most of the citizens scattered. A few lingered awkwardly, staring unabashed. Certainly, no one spoke to them or dared approach.

“On your right, we’ve got Beetle’s Acquisitions.” Ard gestured to the first floor of a tall building. “It’s a decent place if you’re looking to sell back household items, or buy things used at a discounted rate—”

“Is this the location of the dragon shell?” Garifus asked.

“Well, no,” said Ard, “but I thought you might be interested—”

Garifus’s hand shot out and the whole shopfront of Beetle’s Acquisitions imploded. Glass broke, timbers cracked, and bricks crumpled.

Ard flinched, throwing up his hands against the debris. “Sparks! What was that for?”

“The next building you point us to will have the dragon shell inside,” said Garifus. “Am I clear?”

“Of course,” Ard replied. “But it might take a while to get—”

“We are seventeen blocks from the northern border of the city,” said Garifus. “Even at the dawdling rate we have been walking, it will take us no more than thirty minutes to reach the edge.”

“You really know your way around town,” Ard said, grateful that he hadn’t tried to kill more time by doubling back on his route to nowhere. “Did you spend a lot of time in the Northern Quarter?”

“I have never been on this street before,” Garifus admitted. “But I benefit from a perfected sense of recall.”

“I’m pretty sure you can only recall things you’ve experienced before,” Ard pointed out.

“Collective recall,” Garifus clarified. “The minds of the many have become one.”

Ah, flames, it was going to get progressively harder to lie to these Glassnoggins. Ard remembered a scripture about the Homeland. Something about how one could not whisper without all hearing, and none could act without the knowledge of all. He thought about what Nemery had said about Legien Dyer after his transformation. Garifus and the others had sensed his opposition to their ideals and their heads had illuminated to kill him with a thought.

“Alumay worries that you intentionally mislead us,” Garifus said.

Ard glanced at the Glassmind woman. She certainly hadn’t said anything aloud about it. “That’s hurtful,” Ard said. “I might get a little directionally turned around from time to time, but I know where we’re going.”

Oh, Homeland, where were they going? The plan had been to wander until Raek and Quarrah hatched a brilliant rescue plan. But what if no one had been at Tofar’s Salts to hear the news from the Prime Isle? Or worse, what if Trable had decided not to take the message at all? He had looked pretty devastated by Ard’s admission about knowing the shell’s location. Maybe he viewed this as a simple way to rid the Islehood of Holy Isle Ardor Benn.

Regardless, Ard couldn’t wait much longer. He had to decide on somewhere to take Garifus. He didn’t know the Northern Quarter as well as other sections of Beripent, but he had a few contacts there who might be able to provide him some desperate help.

What about that fellow in the cleaning business? The one with three toes. Oh, Raek would remember his name… Or there was Betnis Fawn. She ran a laundry service with a back room full of guns and Grit. No, wait. Betnis had threatened to cut off his kneecaps if she ever saw him again.

Pirel Gulwar! His tavern wasn’t far from here, and the man had given Ard many a free drink in exchange for a good story. Pirel had an enormous storage room behind the kitchen, where he always kept a stash of unlicensed Grit to sell to the right customers. If Ard remembered the room correctly, it had enough doors that he might be able to lead Garifus through one and slip right out another. Especially if he could convince Pirel to pull off a distraction.

Now that he’d decided, Ard found his heart beating at a rate that doubled his footsteps. He led Garifus and Alumay around a corner and three more blocks before he saw the building. The tavern’s name was burned into a wooden sign that hung above the front door.

THE PUCKERING LIZARD

“This is it.” Ard stopped long enough to point at the tall building. Pirel’s tavern only occupied the first floor, while the upper two were mostly rental rooms. “I’ve tracked shipments of dragon eggshell to this tavern, but I’ll have to speak with the owner to find out exactly where they’re storing it.”

“We will make sure he is compliant,” said Alumay.

“That shouldn’t be necessary,” Ard said. “I know him. And he’ll recognize me as an Isle so he’ll think I have authorization. But it might be best if you two stay out here—”

“You will not leave our sight,” said Garifus.

Well, it was worth a shot. Ard led his abnormally large companions onto the porch and pushed open the door to the Puckering Lizard.

It was a well-lit tavern designed for sociality, with three incredibly long tables that stretched nearly wall to wall. Ard counted ten people on the benches, sharing drinks or catching an early dinner. But all conversation stopped when they saw the new arrivals. Ard was framed in the doorway, flanked by towering Glassminds that must have looked like monsters.

“Well, I’ll be sparked… Ardor?” one voice called through the silence. Pirel Gulwar was wiping down the bar with a damp rag. He was a man who looked thin on all counts except his belly. His hair was long, but it was quite thin on top. From Pirel’s angle, Ard was sure he couldn’t see Garifus and Alumya.

“Isle Ardor!” Pirel let out a laugh. “I heard you was wearing the green these days, but I didn’t actually believe it.”

“I’m afraid the Lizard is closing early tonight,” Ard announced, stepping inside. The customers promptly rose, making for the back door when they saw the Glassminds following him in.

“What in the name of the Homeland?” Pirel screeched, holding out his rag like a shield and dropping to a crouch behind the bar.

“It’s all right, Pirel.” Ard walked over to him. “They’re with me. We’ve come for the goods. Where are you storing it these days?”

Pirel rose slowly from behind the bar, speaking to Ard, but unable to take his eyes off the Glassminds. “Usual storage room behind the kitchen. I can take you back.”

Ard held up a hand. “I think we can find the way.”

He led Garifus and Alumay into the kitchen, passing a watery-eyed cook who paused from cutting an onion to gawk at the Glassminds.

“Time to go home.” Ard clapped his hands to expedite the command. “Closing early. Get out of here.”

Wordlessly, she set down the knife and moved out the door where they had just entered. Good. That was one less person to get in the way of this slapdash escape. He led them around a deep wash basin, stopping in front of the closed door to the storage room.

“Open it,” Alumay ordered.

“Me?” Ard’s head was spinning, trying desperately to plot a way out as he grabbed the doorknob. Maybe he could swing it shut the moment the Glassminds were across the threshold. Bracing himself, Ard pulled open the door. But his fear suddenly turned to dread, his anxiety to astonishment, as Garifus Floc looked at him with a smile.

“Well done, Ardor Benn,” said the Glassmind.

On feet that were quickly growing numb, Ard pushed past Garifus and peered into the Puckering Lizard’s storage room.

Impossible.

The space was filled with dragon eggshell. Ard saw the black boxes that Tobey and Marah had described, the ones the orphans had said were delivered to Tall Son’s Millinery. Many of the boxes were lidless, and Ard could see the sparkle of eggshell in cream and amber as late afternoon sunlight angled through the back window.

Impossible!

Yet it was all here—or at least an impressive collection of it. Ard was the first to walk into the room, dazed and completely speechless as he moved between two aisles of shell fragments.

How had it gotten here? Nobody knew Ard was heading to the Puckering Lizard. Not even Ard himself, until a few minutes ago. How had the shell magically transported from—

Hedge Marsool.

It had to be him. The King Poacher and whatever he was using to see the future… Now the Glassminds would have Visitant Grit. Garifus Floc would complete the Sphere, and Centrum would have his way. This was the end.

“You have earned the right to live on,” Garifus said to Ard. “You will have the opportunity to reach the Homeland. To transform like us.”

Ard shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. I’m not joining your blazing cult on a hike up Pekal.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said. “A day cometh when all must speedily go unto the Homeland.”

“That verse…” Ard whispered. “It’s about the Great Egress.” He had first heard it from the Realm, but he’d read it a hundred times since in his own studies in the Mooring.

“Yes,” said Garifus. “It is a time when every man, woman, and child will have the opportunity to transform—to become part of the Homeland.”

“How?” Ard said. “People won’t go along with you just because you transformed.”

“They don’t have to go anywhere,” said Garifus. “We will bring the transformation to them.”

“Moonsickness?” Ard muttered.

Garifus nodded. “Once the Sphere is complete, the dragons will pose no threat to our strength. We will wipe them from the slopes of Pekal, and the next Passing will bring Moonsickness to every living soul in the Greater Chain. We will then provide Transformation Grit to those who share our ideals. Civilization will become perfected.”

Ard felt weak. He needed to sit down. This was the true meaning of the Great Egress. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner?

Alumay passed him, carrying six huge boxes toward the back door of the room. Manipulated clouds of Drift Grit enclosed her load, allowing her to move with ease.

“Why?” Ard asked. “Why are you doing this?”

“The world is evil, Ardor Benn,” said Garifus. “Don’t you see it? In a civilization where we all share consciousness, there will be no more crime. No more lies. People will do the right thing because they will see the value in it.”

“Or because they’ll be afraid,” said Ard. “Afraid that doing anything against the majority could cause their minds to be snuffed out like a candle.”

“You do not understand perfection as I do.” He sent two more boxes of shell floating over to Alumay with a wave of his hand.

“What you’re describing isn’t perfection,” Ard said. “It’s… dominion.”

Garifus shrugged. “We will see if your mind is changed when the great day of egress is upon us all.” He crossed the room, pushing both hands in front of him. In a tremendous rush of Void Grit, the entire far wall blew outward in a spray of dust and debris. Somehow, the roof remained intact, likely held by an unseen Barrier detonation.

Alumay lifted all the boxes of dragon shell at once, reminding Ard how Gloristar had once transported Motherwatch. Without a backward glance, she moved into the street.

“We will meet again, Ardor Benn,” said Garifus Floc. “And when we do, you will beg for the transformation from your Moonsick state.”

Ard couldn’t say anything, barely standing on trembling legs as the two Glassminds disappeared with the Islehood’s entire storage that shouldn’t have been there.

“I’m sorry, Ardor,” came a voice from behind. Pirel Gulwar was standing in the kitchen, face downcast in shame, empty hands clutched in front of him.

“They told me you’d be coming,” said the barkeep. “Swore me to secrecy until after them Glassminds left with the shell.”

Ard turned, his anger boiling up in Pirel’s direction. “Who did this?” He moved after the man, who retreated through the kitchen until Ard cornered him against the bar. Nowhere to go.

“Who did you sell me out to?” he bellowed in the barkeeper’s face.

“Don’t know,” Pirel squeaked. “They just showed up an hour or two ago, started loading that stuff into the storage room like they owned the place. I was going to put up a fuss, but they offered me a thousand Ashings to keep my mouth shut.”

“That’s how much I’m worth to you?” Ard grabbed the man by the front of his stained apron. “After all these years?” Honestly, it was a fair price. Ard had sold people out for much less. People he knew better than Pirel Gulwar.

The front door to the Puckering Lizard flew open. Ard released Pirel, who dropped behind the counter in fear. But the figures at the door were not enemies.

“Ard!” Raek shouted. “You’re not dead!”

“Hedge moved the dragon shell here,” said Quarrah.

“Yeah.” Ard moved around to greet them between two of the long tables. “He knew I was coming before I did.”

“Where’s Garifus?” Raek peered into the kitchen through the open door.

“Gone,” replied Ard. “And he took all the dragon shell with him.”

“Let him have it,” Raek said. “At least he left you alive.”

“No,” said Ard. “He needs Visitant Grit to complete the Sphere. And once he does that, he’s going to eliminate the dragons in order to cause mass Moonsickness. It’s the Great Egress.”

Raek dropped heavily onto one of the benches, nearly breaking it under his weight. Ard heard him let out a world-weary sigh, running one hand over the top of his sweaty bald head. His hands were shaking. Looked like he was due for another Health Grit detonation.

“How do we stop him?” Raek asked.

“By beating him to the punch.” Ard looked from Raek to Quarrah. “We detonate Visitant Grit and I become a Paladin Visitant again.”

“Are you insane?” Raek croaked. “That’ll destroy everything.”

“Not destroy,” Ard corrected. “This will reset everything.”

“Yeah, and we’ll puff out of existence with it,” Raek reminded him.

“It’s been done before,” Ard said, “to save civilization. Every successful Paladin Visitant has reset the timeline. The Prime Isles of the future made that call. They erased their own existence in order to give humanity another chance to do things better.” He gripped the edge of the table. “I don’t see that we have any other choice.”

“I see one big problem,” Quarrah said.

“Just one?” Raek muttered.

“We don’t have any Visitant Grit,” she pointed out.

“But we know who does,” said Ard, pointing over his shoulder toward the kitchen.

“The Glassminds?” Quarrah said. “We won’t survive another theft from Winter Barracks.”

“That’s not what I have in mind,” Ard replied. “To complete the Sphere, Garifus said they were going to ignite Visitant Grit on the site of the oldest failed detonation. We know where that is.”

“We do?” asked Quarrah.

“It’s here, in the oldest city in the Greater Chain,” he said. “The site is well known by everyone in the Islehood. The fame of its failure is second only to Oriar’s botched detonation against Grotenisk.”

“Why don’t you just tell us where,” said Raek, “for those of us who haven’t spent the last year reading books in the Mooring.”

“Beripent’s Western Harbor,” Ard said. “Detonated by Isless Onsto centuries ago. Well before Grotenisk. Even before the Strondath Era. We’re talking at least seven hundred years back. It was the first recorded detonation of Visitant Grit intended to summon a Paladin who would defend the harbor against a fleet of attacking Trothians.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Raek asked.

“I actually did read when I was in the Mooring,” he said.

“Huh,” Raek said. “You finally learned how.”

“So that’s where Garifus will detonate the Visitant Grit?” Quarrah checked.

“Yep,” said Ard. “And he made the mistake of telling Prime Isle Trable, which means the harbor will be swarming with Reggies.”

“Do we have any idea when this might happen?” she asked.

“I don’t think Garifus will waste time,” said Ard. “The Glassminds have the dragon shell, but it’s not Visitant Grit yet.”

“They’re taking it to Pekal?”

Ard shook his head. “There are already a few shell fragments that have been through a dragon.”

“So all they need to do is grind it to powder,” said Raek. “They might be able to do that with their bare hands.”

“True,” said Ard. “Which is why we should get in position as quickly as possible.”

“Position where?” Quarrah asked.

“Above the docks,” said Ard. “We can lie low in one of the ship repair fields. The moment the Glassminds show up and engage with the Regulators, we strike.”

“And by ‘strike,’ you mean steal the Visitant Grit, take it down to the harbor, and detonate it on the failed site,” Quarrah said.

“Exactly!” Ard cried. “The moment we enter that cloud, we’ll appear to people seven hundred years in the past. As soon as they see us, the timeline will reset, and the Glassminds will never come into existence.”

“Neither will we,” Raek said.

“So all of this will have been for nothing?” Quarrah said. “Our entire lives…”

“I don’t like it, either,” said Ard. “But we owe it to humanity.”

“How altruistic of you,” Raek said bitterly. “I’d almost think you were a Holy Isle.”

“Hey,” Ard said. “You know I couldn’t keep that up forever.”

“Really?” Raek replied. “Because it seemed like you wanted to.” He shook his head in disbelief. “How long had you known? About the dragon shell at the millinery?”

“It’s not what you think, Raek,” Ard began. He’d really hoped this would come out on his terms, not forced upon his partner in a way that made it seem like Ard didn’t care. “I was going to tell you. I just had some other things I needed to take care of.”

“Like what?” spit Raek.

“The Great Egress. Didn’t you hear what I said?” cried Ard. “Moonsickness is going to destroy everyone. Destroy them or turn them into Glassminds.”

“But you didn’t learn that studying in the Mooring,” Raek pointed out. “Garifus just told you.”

“I was… I just…” Ard trailed away, truly at a loss for words. Raek was right. He had stayed too long in the Mooring.

“I guess I just need to know who I’m dealing with,” Raek pressed. “Are you a Holy Isle, or a ruse artist?”

Ardor Benn took a deep breath. He was honestly sad to see his associations at the Mooring come to an end, but there was no way he’d be allowed to stay in the Islehood after breaching Prime Isle Trable’s trust like he’d done.

His time in the Islehood was clearly over, but he hadn’t done anything illegal… The queen’s pardon was still intact.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Ard said, noticing Raek’s shoulders droop. “Being a Holy Isle, having the queen’s pardon… I’m sorry, Raek. But once we enter that Visitant cloud, none of this will have ever happened.” He took a deep breath. “Everything starts over.”

Raekon Dorrel stared at the floor. “It doesn’t change what you are today.”

Sometimes everything seems so straightforward. So blatant that I can’t see why I didn’t understand it all a long time ago.