CHAPTER

26

Quarrah leaned back against the cold stone wall of the jail cell, annoyed to be here, and even more annoyed to be sharing the small room with Ard and Raek. Couldn’t the Reggies at least have given her a cell of her own?

She was well acquainted with the palace dungeon. Two years ago, she and Ard had rounded up the surviving members of the Directorate—the Realm’s highest-ranking position—and locked them away down here.

It wasn’t the kind of place one broke out of. The stone walls between cells were at least two feet thick, and the door was a heavy slab of wood with a narrow viewing slat at eye level. Tonight, it had been left open, allowing a rectangle of dim Light Grit to shine into the cell. The door would be barred from the outside, with a padlock hanging in a spot she couldn’t even see, let alone reach.

Not that she’d be able to pick it anyway. The Regulators had basically stripped them, taking every granule of Grit along with anything else that seemed suspicious or useful. They’d even taken the belt to Ard’s pants, which had obviously been serving a purpose, since he could barely keep them up as he paced in the darkness.

“What time do you think it is?” Ard asked. “Got to be past midnight by now.”

“Time…” said Raek, who was lying on the cell’s single cot, one muscular arm drooping off the side. “What is time? Is it a ball? Is it a line? Is it a doughnut?”

The big man wasn’t doing well. His bald head was shiny with sweat, his hands trembling. And when he wasn’t jabbering, he was moaning and groaning. Obviously going through a Health Grit withdrawal, but Quarrah thought the discomfort was even more than that. Raek had been a prisoner here, four years ago. Maybe in this very cell. King Pethredote’s healers had planted that awful pipe in his chest, intending to keep him alive only long enough to beat more information out of him.

This had to be hardest for Raekon Dorrel, back in the place where he’d thought he would die. Where Ard had rescued him, only to find that his life would forever be plagued by a cursed Heg addiction.

“Do you think Garifus went straight to Pekal’s summit to wait?” Ard continued. “Or would he have appeared to the cultists to help them hike?”

“Doesn’t matter,” moaned Raek. “We’re down here. They’re out there. And even if we did get out… What would we do about it?”

Quarrah was still in favor of escaping, but Raek had a point. They had lost. The Glassminds had been too powerful. And now that they had access to Spherical Time, they could be anywhere, manipulating people’s emotions, and whispering Urges… Maybe this really would be the end of human civilization.

Ard hiked up his pants and dropped to sit beside Quarrah on the sawdust-littered dirt floor. “We’ve got to get that guy some Heg,” Ard whispered, jabbing a thumb at Raek. “His downer attitude is really making me depressed.”

“He has a point, though,” she said quietly. “What would you do if you got out?”

“I’d start by not getting executed.”

“Yeah,” she said. “That would be nice.”

“You might be spared since you didn’t sign the queen’s pardon,” Ard said. “It explained in no uncertain terms that committing any additional crimes would void the pardon, holding Raek and myself accountable for every questionable deed we’ve ever done.”

“That definitely warrants execution.”

“Thanks,” he said. “As long as you don’t confess, you’ll probably just be locked up in a Reggie Stockade for the rest of your life. But I bet you’ll grow one of your fingernails really long and use it to pick a lock and escape.”

“This just reminds me that you don’t know anything about picking locks,” Quarrah said, but she smiled at the idea nevertheless.

Ard sighed. “Remember how a few hours ago, we thought we were going to become Paladin Visitants and reset time and puff out of existence? Yeah… Well, I might have said a few things…”

Quarrah reached out in the darkness, taking his hand in a gesture so sudden it even surprised herself.

“You didn’t have to say it, Ard,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She shook her head. “I knew… I always knew how you felt.”

Sparks. Was she really having this conversation? It was the right thing—the considerate thing—to give closure to a doomed man. That was all she was doing here. Nothing more to it.

“I guess I’m not as good at hiding my feelings as I’d like to think.” He squeezed her hand.

What was he talking about? The man was like a walking emotion. Quarrah closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand in hers, remembering a time when her heart had found such comfort and trust in that warmth.

“If things had been different…” Ard spoke in the darkness. “Could this have worked between us?”

If you had been different, she wanted to say. She knew that was what he was really asking.

“There was a time when I thought so,” she whispered.

“When did it fall apart?”

The memory of that night came back to her, followed by half a dozen other times when Ardor Benn’s ceaseless motivation had driven a wedge deeper between them. When his own goals came at the cost of everyone and everything around him.

She pulled her hand away from his. “I think you know.”

It suddenly felt like fate to have this conversation in the palace dungeon. In a sense, this was the place that had delivered the first blow to that wedge—when Ard had been determined to get down here and rescue Raek. She had suggested they make a more calculated plan, with a careful extraction. Instead, Ard had jeopardized the newly fertilized dragon egg—the only real hope for humanity at the time—alerting the Reggies to its location with three gunshots into the night sky. Three shots that had sent Quarrah running. And despite whatever force kept bringing them back together, she couldn’t seem to move past those gunshots. They had shown him for who he really was. And she’d seen it too many times since.

Quarrah could tell there was so much more Ard wanted to say, but he was waiting for her to go on. Fortunately, she didn’t have to.

Outside the jail cell, the sound of an opening door turned all three heads. It was followed by clicking footsteps descending the stairs as the door shut.

“Hey, Hal.” Ard stood up, moving toward the door. He had been calling their guard Hal for the last several hours, like they were old friends. The guard hadn’t said a single word in all this time, so Quarrah didn’t think that could possibly be his real name.

“Is that you, buddy?” Ard went on. “Sounds like you got some new shoes.” He was almost to the view slot when the cell door swung open.

Queen Abeth Ostel Agaul stood in the threshold, her hair and makeup looking pristine despite the late hour. She wore a simple gown of green and pale blue, the blending of the colors indicative of the Islehood robes. A subtle reminder of her Islehood-sanctioned position as a placeholder ruler and crusader monarch.

Quarrah sprang to her feet. Even Raek managed to sit up on the squeaking, dirty cot.

“Your Majesty.” Ard bowed his head. “I’ve been asking Hal for a word with you since they locked us up. Let me tell you what really happened.”

“Quiet, Ardor,” she snapped, holding up her hand, jeweled rings twinkling on her fingers.

Their relationship with Queen Abeth was admittedly strange. They had pretended to assassinate her, then lived with her at the Guesthouse Adagio before saving her son, blowing up said guesthouse, and failing to keep Shad alive for more than a few moments on the throne. Quarrah knew that Abeth didn’t blame them for that last part, but her mercy toward Ard could extend only so far.

“Would someone please tell me what the blazes is going on?” Abeth cried. Ard glanced over her shoulder, but she shook her head. “We’re quite alone down here.”

The queen of the Greater Chain, alone in an open jail cell with three criminals… Strange relationship, indeed. But it showed her implicit trust that they wouldn’t bowl her over, take her hostage, or otherwise use her to escape.

“So there are these Glassminds…” Ard began. Quarrah watched in silence as he explained everything to the queen, using far more words than necessary and really playing up his own heroics. Every time Abeth took a step or shifted her weight, Quarrah eyed the doorway, resisting the urge to bolt. It was instinctual for her, and standing still took all her willpower.

“I’d heard the reports from the Regulators,” Queen Abeth said when he was finished. “Your explanation fills a lot of holes. What I want to know is why you didn’t try to stop this Garifus from escaping into the Visitant cloud?”

“There was no stopping him!” Ard cried. “Besides, he was making us all feel peaceable. And for the record, we never hurt any of your Regulators. I’d say this whole thing is just a big misunderstanding.”

“Fifty-nine of them have broken bones from your little rat ball stunt,” Queen Abeth fumed. “And I didn’t bother to find out how many more have cuts and bruises. I realize that you were trying to stop Garifus. But there are over a thousand witnesses, and most people thought it looked like you were helping the Glassminds.”

Raek snorted. “I couldn’t even walk in a straight line.”

“Either way…” said Abeth. “You broke the law. You assaulted Regulators on duty, trespassed onto an area that was closed to civilians, resisted arrest.”

“We went willingly!” cried Ard.

“My reports state that you enclosed yourself in a detonation of Barrier Grit,” said Abeth.

“That was to stop your guys from filling us full of lead,” Ard argued.

“Don’t forget reckless detonation of Grit in a public space,” Raek added. “And using Grit detonations contrary to their intended purpose.”

“Raek!” scolded Ard.

“What?” said the big man defensively. “We lost the pardon. I just want to make sure people know we went down doing something more heroic than trespassing.”

Queen Abeth pointed a finger in Ard’s face. “Above all, you betrayed my trust. I took a risk in extending you that pardon. The entire council was against it, but I thought you could behave yourself. You’re a disappointment to me, and to Prime Isle Trable.”

Quarrah thought she saw a shadow of regret pass over Ard’s face. But it was short lived. He held up his hands innocently. “I think we need to stay focused on who the real villains are here.”

“I’ve already dispatched a fleet to Pekal,” said the queen. “They’ll apprehend this Garifus Floc and anyone who swears allegiance to him.”

Raek chuckled, flopping back on the cot. “Good luck with that.”

“There is little more I can do,” she said. “And now I have to turn my focus to preventing the widespread panic that follows wherever you go.”

“People have reason to panic this time,” said Ard. “If Garifus kills the dragons—”

“Then we all get Moonsick. I know!” shouted the queen. She cleared her throat and went on, composed. “The noble councils are calling for your execution.”

Ard turned to Quarrah. “See?” he said with an I-told-you-so tone.

“But I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that,” said Abeth.

“More complicated than killing us?” Raek asked through chattering teeth.

“The Trothians have already caught word of your arrest,” the queen went on. “I have an Agrodite priestess upstairs who is demanding that I turn you over to her.”

“Oh, flames,” Ard muttered. “Does her name happen to be Lyndel?”

“Yes,” said Abeth. “She has been in Beripent, looking for you. She claims that you were never released from Ra Ennoth like the reports claim. She says you hired someone to impersonate an official emissary who levied threats against the Trothian nation on behalf of the queen. Is that true?”

“No!” Ard cried. “That might have happened, but I didn’t hire anybody.”

“Then who was this mysterious emissary?”

“Must have been one of my fans, bailing me out of a sticky situation.” He shrugged. “And to think, all this time, I thought you had rescued me. I figured, after all I’d done for you, you wouldn’t stand to see me drown on some Homeland-forsaken islet.”

Trust Ardor Benn to flip the situation and make Queen Abeth feel like the moral degenerate in this story. The queen took a deep breath, pressing her fingertips to the side of her head as if trying to stave off a headache.

“I have a difficult decision to make by morning,” she said. “Do I have you executed in Beripent, or turn you over to the Trothian nation?”

“Either way, he’s a dead man,” Raek called from the cot.

“You’re one to speak!” Ard snapped.

“Your fate is more straightforward, Raekon,” said Abeth. “You and Quarrah will face the firing squad at dawn.”

“What?” Quarrah shouted.

“Hold on,” Ard interceded. “Quarrah didn’t do anything—”

“We’re well past that,” said the queen, turning to Quarrah. “The noble council has had their teeth set on you since you showed your face to petition on Ard’s behalf.”

“Quarrah?” Ard said. “You did that for me?”

A mistake, apparently. Quarrah stepped toward Abeth. “I had your word that I wouldn’t be held accountable for anything I said at that meeting.”

“And you weren’t,” she replied. “But now that you’ve been officially arrested, the other council members are seeming to remember things you may or may not have said about your past associations with Ardor Benn.”

Quarrah shot a glowering gaze at Ard. It wasn’t enough to be executed for her own merits over decades of thieving? In the end, she’d meet the firing squad just because she’d spent time with Ard…

“You don’t want to execute us,” said Ard. “Any of us.”

“And why not?”

“We’re valuable. We know things.” Ard cleared his throat. “We have good ideas.”

That was the best Ard could do right now? Quarrah shook her head.

“The noble council isn’t going to be appeased with good ideas,” said the queen. “But if you could give me something concrete… Perhaps the name of the man who impersonated my emissary?”

“And what happens if I remember it?” Ard asked.

Quarrah gasped. He wasn’t really thinking about betraying Elbrig?

“Then the noble council might be satisfied long enough for the three of you to escape.”

“I like the sound of that,” muttered Raek.

“How?” Quarrah asked.

“There could easily be a miscommunication among the Regulators after the queen visited the dungeon.” Abeth straightened the bodice of her gown. “Your cell was left unguarded. And I hear one of you is an expert at picking locks.”

“You’re serious?” Ard said.

“The name and location of the man,” demanded the queen.

Quarrah leaned back against the wall. So much for their one chance of escaping. Ard would never betray the disguise managers…

“Elbrig Taut,” said Ard. “He goes by a lot of names, but I know him as Elbrig Taut. His partner is a woman named Cinza Ortemion. They are masters of disguise and they spend years developing well-connected personas to sell to criminal contacts. They’re difficult to reach, and you can never be sure what they’ll look like on any given day. But this is my method of reaching them. Have your people go to Drune’s Haberdashery on Leaf Street in the Eastern Quarter. Have them tell the attendant at the front desk that they’d like to see something more exotic. The attendant will ask if the fabric is for them. They should reply by saying, ‘It will be, if the season is right.’”

Quarrah stared at him, mouth agape. Was he seriously doing this? Turning Cinza and Elbrig over to the queen? Of course not. This was a lie. Just something to convince Abeth to let them go. By the time her people tracked down Ard’s lead, the three of them would be long gone.

“How can I trust you?” the queen asked, obviously coming to the same conclusion.

“It’s the truth,” Ard said. “I swear to you.”

“You’ll understand if I have a hard time believing your word.”

“Raek will confirm it.”

Abeth scoffed. “Oh, that’s much better.”

“Why would I lie?” Ard asked. “If I give you a fake lead, it’ll only put you back on our trail faster. If you get Elbrig and Cinza, we’ll have a little breathing room after we escape.”

Sparks! Maybe he was telling the truth. When he put it that way, it seemed quite convincing.

The queen pursed her lips in thought. Then she took a step closer to Quarrah and conspicuously dropped something on the dirt floor. Quarrah recognized her thief’s tools immediately.

“In one hour, the Regulators on the first floor will change,” said Queen Abeth, turning to leave. “The hallway that leads to the palace’s east exit will be vacant. I hope you can make my decision easier before sunrise.”

“Abeth,” Ard said, forgoing the formality of her position. “Thank you.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “We’re even, Ardor Benn. Do not expect mercy the next time we meet.”

Then she closed the heavy cell door and Quarrah heard her footsteps click clack up the stairs.

“Please tell me that was some Heg she dropped.” Raek sat up on the cot again.

“Better,” said Ard. “Quarrah’s lock-picking tools.”

“Though it doesn’t matter much.” Quarrah picked them up and put a hand to the door. “I still can’t reach…” She trailed off as the door swung open on its own. “She didn’t even lock it.”

“This is how legends are born,” Ard said. “Palace Reggies for decades to come will talk about how Quarrah Khai picked a lock through a solid door.”

Raek staggered forward, bumping into her. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Not yet, big guy.” Ard grabbed his friend’s arm to stabilize him. “Got to wait another hour for the guards to change.”

He helped Raek back to the cot while Quarrah pulled the cell door shut. Safer to maintain appearances in case a guard peered in over the next hour.

“See,” Ard said. “I knew we could get out of this.”

“Cinza and Elbrig…” Quarrah turned to look at him. “Was that an honest lead to find them?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t seem like we had another choice.”

“But you…” she stammered. “You betrayed them.”

“I don’t really see us needing a disguise in the near future,” Ard said. “Those Glassminds would see right through anything we put on.”

“So you turned them in?” Quarrah cried. “Because their services no longer suit you?”

“No skin off my teeth,” Raek replied. “Never liked the crazies anyway.”

“It’s not like that, Quarrah,” Ard tried. “I had to get us out of here. Abeth would’ve seen through a lie.”

“Elbrig put his neck out for you with the Trothians,” said Quarrah.

Ard nodded. “And now that neck is going to meet the chopping block. It was either his or mine. Elbrig would’ve done the same in my position. He’ll understand.”

At the back of the cell, Raek groaned and Quarrah thought he might throw up.

“I promise we’ll get you some Heg the minute we get out of here.” Ard went to his friend’s side. “Once you’re fixed up, we’ll swing by and check on old Vethrey.”

Quarrah felt goose bumps racing down both her arms. “What did you say?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” said Ard. “Just a little something Raek and I have been working on.”

“Say it again.” Her heart was hammering.

Ard cleared his throat. “Um… Vethrey?”

“What does it mean?” Quarrah’s voice spiked. “You have to tell me what that means!”

“Sparks! Relax, Quarrah,” Ard said. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“They were saying that word,” she muttered. “When I was in the Ucru… the night I stole the piece of Moon Glass. They were chanting it.”

“Who was?”

“Lyndel and the other priestess,” said Quarrah. “They were burning that turroc root. The whole place was full of smoke. And they were chanting that word. Vethrey. What does it mean?”

Ardor Benn covered his mouth, a look of pure astonishment on his face. “It’s a Trothian word I learned from Nemery,” he whispered. “It means Motherwatch.”

Ard’s thoughts were racing so fast, he could barely focus long enough to verbalize one. Quarrah’s words had brought sudden clarity to everything—Hedge Marsool, Motherwatch, Gloristar’s reappearance, the scriptures. And above all, they had given Ard the first glimmer of hope that they just might take down these impossible Glassminds.

“Through Settled smoke they will chant a name,” Ard began to recite. It was a verse he had memorized because it referenced his name. “And the one who restored life will send all hope to the Homeland in the red of night. Behold, this is zeal and ardor beyond perfection.”

“What the blazes are you carrying on about?” Raek asked.

Ard looked at Quarrah. “You said they were chanting the name Vethrey. Motherwatch. She’s going to save us.”

“The dragon?” Quarrah asked. “How?”

“By becoming something even more powerful than she is right now,” said Ard. “Think about it. Humans and dragons are the only two species known to get Moonsick. If we can evolve into Glassminds… what will a dragon become?”

Raek shuddered, sucking in a deep breath. “A god.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” said Quarrah.

“It says it right there in the verse,” Ard replied. “The one who restored life will send her away to get Moonsick. And she will become something beyond perfection. Beyond a Glassmind.”

“The one who restored life?” Quarrah questioned. Ard nodded, but she obviously didn’t understand. With a humble bow, he gestured at himself.

“You?” she cried. “You think that scripture is talking about you? How did Ardor Benn restore life?”

“The dragon egg,” said Ard. “I saw to the fertilization of that bull dragon egg. I restored a dying species. Trust me. I spent the last year studying these things. It even mentions my name explicitly. I’m supposed to get Motherwatch sick and help her transform—send her to the Homeland in the red of night.”

“Even if you’re right,” said Quarrah. “Even if that verse does talk about turning a dragon into a god, I see one big problem.” She stared at him as if expecting him to see it, too. “We don’t actually have Motherwatch anymore.”

Ard scratched behind his ear. Time to come clean with Quarrah. “Yeah. About that… Raek and I sorta decided to stash Motherwatch somewhere else.”

There was a speechless pause, and then Quarrah attempted a response. “How could you… When did…” She trailed off into something that sounded like a growl of frustration. “What?!”

“We couldn’t risk letting Hedge get his hands on her,” explained Ard.

“Hand,” Raek corrected.

“But we thought she might be good to keep around for a bit,” he said. “After all the work to steal her…”

“I saw her!” said Quarrah. “In the cavern below Helizon.”

“You saw the Illusion Grit likeness of Motherwatch,” explained Ard. “With a detonation of Heat Grit to make it feel convincing.”

“Where was the real dragon?”

“She had quite the trip,” Ard said. “We had to bring her to Helizon first so we could create the Illusion Grit image to fool Hedge. But she was only in Baroness Lavfa’s cave for about a half hour. Then I stayed behind and Gloristar returned Motherwatch to the Stern Wake. We needed Captain Dodset’s influence to get the dragon through Beripent’s harbors unseen, so I paid her a hefty fee. Most of my life savings, actually. Raek was waiting at the other cave. The one we told you about. South of Beripent, in the Pale Tors.”

“You knew about this?” Quarrah spun on Raek.

“It was why I had to leave Pekal early,” Raek affirmed. “Needed to square things away with Jaig Jasperson and make sure he had enlarged the cave’s opening so we could get her inside.”

“But the escape…” said Quarrah. “Hedge said the warehouse exploded when the dragon broke free. Killed two of his men.”

“That was the work of Cinza and Elbrig,” Ard said. “Or as you might remember, the hunchback, Pincher, and the hag, Otella.”

Ard knew this truth would sting, but he was surprised by the depth of the betrayal on Quarrah’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I knew you wouldn’t like it,” he said.

“How about next time, you let me decide what I don’t like.”

“Well, do you?” he asked. “Like it?”

She clenched her jaw. “No.”

“See?”

“I think it’s one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done,” said Quarrah. “Keeping a live dragon in the largest city in the Greater Chain…”

“Technically, she’s outside Beripent’s city limits,” said Raek.

“Who’s been watching her all this time?” Quarrah asked. “Doesn’t she need regular detonations of Grit to remain in Stasis?”

“Jasperson’s on it,” Raek explained. “And I told San if we didn’t return from the harbor by morning, he should instruct Jasperson to release the dragon.”

“San knows about her?” Quarrah cried.

Raek shrugged, a childish grin on his face. “No secrets among lab partners.”

“I should have told you, Quarrah,” Ard said. “But I didn’t. I’m sorry. What’s important is that we still have her! We’ll keep her locked up through the coming Moon Passing. Away from the other dragons, she won’t get the rays she needs. Once she’s Moonsick, we’ll expose her to the Metamorphosis Grit and see what happens.”

“See what happens?” Quarrah threw her hands in the air. “This is a huge gamble, Ard! If Garifus succeeds in destroying the other dragons, Motherwatch will be the only hope we have to shield anyone from Moonsickness.”

“I know,” replied Ard. “It’s right there in the verse. We will ‘send all hope to the Homeland in the red of night.’”

“I think you’re grasping at straws,” said Quarrah. “We need to release her. Let her fly back to Pekal and get the Moon rays that she needs to stay healthy.”

“And be right where Garifus wants her so he can slaughter Motherwatch along with all the others,” said Ard. “The number of Glassminds is going to soar after the Passing. Do you doubt that they can track down and kill every single dragon on that island?”

She shook her head.

“But think about what could happen if this works,” pleaded Ard. “We’ll have a god on our side.”

“Probably a goddess,” Raek interjected, “but I guess we’ll see.”

“A more powerful ally than Gloristar was,” said Ard.

“We don’t know that,” Quarrah emphasized. “And if it doesn’t work, then our only hope will be as raging violent as Grotenisk was.”

“Then maybe she’ll put up a better fight against the Glassminds,” said Ard.

“And maybe Dale Hizror will write an aria about her,” added Raek. “I heard you like to sing about killer dragons.”

She scowled at him.

“For all we know,” said Ard, “a Moonsick dragon can still absorb Moon rays. We have nothing to lose in trying this.”

“Nothing to lose?”

“In fact,” Ard pressed, “keeping Motherwatch in Beripent gives us two things we want. We get a Moonsick dragon to experiment on.”

“Can’t say we want that,” muttered Quarrah.

“And we keep her away from Garifus a little longer. I think we can safely assume that no one knows we have her.”

“What about this Jasperson fellow?” said Quarrah.

“Okay, well, obviously he knows,” Raek said.

“And we did everything we could to keep this from Hedge,” Raek said. “We’re pretty sure we’ve stayed ahead of him. Even though he was the one to hire us for this job in the first place.”

“No,” said Ard, holding up a finger. “He didn’t.” He took a deep breath, assuring himself that this had to be the truth. “I did.”

Oh, boy. If it had been hard to sell them on the concept of a transformed dragon goddess, then this next bit was going to be a wild ride of naysaying.

“Wait… what?” Raek and Quarrah shared a look of confusion.

“All right. Bear with me for a moment,” Ard began. “I’m going to say something that’s not going to be easy to digest.”

“Well, that’s new…” muttered Quarrah.

“When Garifus completed the Sphere, he said that any Glassmind can go back in time to leave Urgings—feelings and whispers—so long as they didn’t jeopardize the creation of his kind.”

“Based on what Hedge said to me, he’s been manipulated by a Glassmind all this time,” Quarrah added.

“Yes,” Ard agreed. “But not just any Glassmind… me.”

“But you’re not a—”

“Not yet,” Ard cut her off. “But there’s still time to reach the summit before the Passing. I’ve got nine days.”

“And Nemery said an experienced hiker could make it to the summit in ten,” Raek said.

Ard nodded. “It’ll be quite the hike, but it’s doable.”

“Why in the blazes would you even consider this?” Quarrah cried. “The moment you transform, Centrum will be in your head. He’ll know what you’re planning and he’ll kill you on the spot.”

“Not if I disconnect myself quickly enough,” Ard explained.

Raek nodded. “Just like what happened to Gloristar.”

“We have no idea what kind of a crack that takes,” argued Quarrah. “Too much, and you’ll shatter your own skull.”

Ard held up a hand. “It’ll be all right. I have a way to do it safely.” That was mostly a lie, but he had studied Gloristar’s glass scalp quite closely. A solid blow to the skull would—

“Let’s say it works,” Raek interrupted his thoughts. “You become a Glassmind and you reach back in time to hire us to steal a dragon. Why would you pick Hedge Marsool as your mouthpiece? We hate that guy!”

“Exactly,” said Ard. “I have to hire someone intimidating enough to scare us into doing his bidding. You know that’s not a long list, but Hedge is at the top of it.”

“If it was Hedge,” said Quarrah, “then how did he know which vase to put the note in at Lord Dulith’s manor?”

“Because you told me,” Ard said. “And I’ll tell him. A whisper in his mind. Isn’t that what Hedge said? It’s the very way Garifus described the Urgings!”

“But which happened first?” she questioned. “I told you about the note because I’d already found it. But you haven’t passed that information along to Hedge yet. How can something happen if it hasn’t happened yet?”

“Look, this is going to get messy.” Ard tried to remain calm. “I don’t claim to fully understand this time travel slag, but hear me out.”

Quarrah nodded. Raek shivered. Ard went on.

“Once I become a Glassmind, I’ll reach into the past, imposing feelings and whispers on Hedge Marsool to convince him to hire us to steal a dragon.”

“There’s not a more straightforward way to get one?” Raek asked.

“Sure, there is. But not with the limited time we have left,” said Ard. “All of this was to plan ahead, knowing that we wouldn’t have time to go to Pekal and hunt down a dragon when we finally realized we needed one. Hedge’s job was to make sure we had everything we needed, already in place.”

“Like what else?” asked Quarrah.

“Think about what Hedge required of us before he surrendered the paperwork for Captain Dodset and the Stern Wake,” said Ard. “He specifically told us to seek out Baroness Lavfa.”

“Because of her underground property,” said Quarrah.

“Or because Glassmind-Ard told him to,” said Raek. “Why?”

“Because Hedge Marsool isn’t the only person I’m going to manipulate in the past,” said Ard. “Remember how Baroness Lavfa mentioned the Urgings?”

“You think that was you?” Quarrah asked.

He nodded. “I’ll reach back to the baroness and put the whispers in her head. Tell her exactly what to demand when someone comes asking about her subterranean property beneath Helizon.”

“A black backpack with ten panweights of Void Grit, ten panweights of Barrier Grit, four bricks from the Royal Concert Hall, and a piece of Agrodite Moon Glass,” Raek reviewed.

“Everything Gloristar would need to resurface,” said Ard.

“Why the bricks?” Quarrah asked.

Raek chuckled. “Those are just to make sure it sinks.”

“Exactly. And when I’m done hiring Lavfa, I’ll pay a mental visit to our old friend Moroy Peng. He said he had good intel on exactly where to find us.”

“Because you told him,” said Quarrah.

“Well, I haven’t yet,” said Ard, “but I will soon. Moroy’s dying words were ‘Cut the pack.’ At the time, I didn’t understand what that was all about. But I’m going to chalk it up as another oddly specific Urging. He’ll sink the black backpack so it’ll be sure to reach Gloristar in the depths. After that, we’ll get Motherwatch and I’ll stop sending the Urgings to Hedge so he won’t know that we’re keeping her in Beripent.”

“But you will tell him to move the dragon shell from the millinery to the Puckering Lizard?” Quarrah shook her head. “Why?”

“Because that’s where he told you about the Urgings,” said Ard. “It’s what led us here. I’ll convince Hedge to make vials of sugar water and pretend to have Future Grit. That’s what kept us guessing about him. Once you confront him about it, I’ll let him know it’s okay to tell you the truth about the Urgings.”

“I don’t know, Ard,” muttered Raek. “It sounds to me like you’re just saying you’re going to do a bunch of stuff that already happened… because it already happened.”

“I get the feeling that’s how time travel works,” replied Ard. “With Visitant Grit, I’ll be able to make all these visits in a matter of minutes, maybe seconds. After that, things should run smoothly to the present moment.”

“I wouldn’t say smoothly,” said Quarrah. “Gloristar and Lomaya died. Why didn’t you do something about that?”

“And we got arrested,” said Raek. “Why don’t you tip us off that the rat ball is a bad idea?”

Ard held up his hands. “I don’t think I can take requests,” he said. “I don’t understand how this works, but I know that what’s happened has happened. It’s too risky to change anything else.”

“If this is the truth, I’m going to need a sign,” said Raek. “Something to prove that you really will turn into a time-traveling Glassmind.”

“Fine. You want a sign?” Ard said. “I’ll add it to the list.” He pretended like he was writing on a piece of paper. “Give Raek a sign so he’ll believe me.”

The cell fell into absolute silence.

“Come on, future me,” Ard muttered after a pregnant moment.

Quarrah sighed. “Do you think it’s been an hour?”

“Beats me,” Ard said. “It’s not like we have a clock in here—”

From under Raek’s cot, Ard heard the soft chiming of a mantel clock. He looked at Quarrah, then at Raek, making sure they were hearing it, too. Ard dropped to one knee, squinting to see it half buried in rank sawdust. As the chime concluded, he saw a flash of sparks. Ard fell back as a detonation cloud erupted from the clock, encompassing Raek, who sat directly above it.

The big man instantly stopped shivering, his breathing calm. There was a blissful look on his scarred face as he passed his hand through the hazy air around him.

“That’s some fine-quality Heg,” said Raek. “I’m officially convinced.”

Some things I took for the Ashings. Some things for the fame and recognition. But the things I took for myself are what really mattered.