The Last Lies of Ardor Benn

by Tyler Whitesides

“They will.” Quarrah leaned forward, resting her forearms on the edge of the table. “The Glassminds know exactly where we are. Up until now, they’ve had to focus all their attention on rounding up the Moonsick people and transforming them before the sickness got too advanced. That’ll be winding down today. The people out there are entering the third stage. Once the Glassminds see that there’s no one else to transform, they’ll have their numbers. Then they’ll deal with the next problem on their list.” She sat back. “Us.”

  Ard smiled at her boldness. There was even a touch of drama to her monologue. “Tell them how many we’re dealing with, Quarrah.”

  Lady Werner scoffed. “How would she know?”

  “I’ve been sneaking out into the city every day,” Quarrah said.

  “What? How?” The council members all began to murmur.

  “Did you visit my estate in the Southern Quarter?” asked Lord Owers. “What is the condition of my manor?”

  “I’d say you can count on all your valuables to be scattered and lost,” she reported. “But that’s not our problem. It’s impossible to know for sure, but I’d say there are thousands of Glassminds by now. Probably more like tens of thousands when you consider that Beripent is just a small percentage of what’s happening all over the Greater Chain. The Glassminds aren’t forcing anyone to join them, but the people are desperate for a cure from Moonsickness.”

  “I thought only those who shared Centrum’s ideals were allowed into his hive mind,” said the queen.

  Quarrah nodded. “If you think the number of living Glassminds is worrisome, I can assure you that you’ll find ten times that number of rejects, their glass skulls blown out in the streets.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence as the queen and the noble council shifted in their chairs.

  “Anyway, we’re safe here,” Lady Heel finally declared. “Veth… Eveth… the dragon woman said she can create all the Barrier Grit we need to—”

  “The Glassminds can manipulate a Barrier wall,” Raek cut off her optimism. “Any one of them could absorb our defenses. And with their numbers, Evetherey and I won’t have a chance of keeping a Barrier intact.”

  “We should start mandatory military training with all the survivors,” said Lord Blindle.

  “With what?” said Lord Owers. “We have no weapons!”

  “There is plenty of available vegetation here,” said Raek. “Evetherey and I can shape tree limbs into spears and clubs—”

  “We need guns!” Lady Werner cut him off.

  “Why?” said Quarrah. “The balls won’t pierce the skin of the Glassminds. We’re better off trying to club them over the head.”

  Quarrah had been more talkative than usual in these meetings. Ard was grateful for her input since she was the only person who had seen what things were really like out there.

  “A soldier isn’t defined by his weapon,” continued Blindle. “Training would at least give the people some hope. The Regulators who survived may be few, but they should be teaching the citizens to fight. After all, even if we survive the outside threats, I do not think any of us feel completely safe within.”

  “You’re referring to the Trothian group?” said Lord Owers. “They have not been hostile—”

  “Six hundred Trothians—even their children show more combat discipline than our Reggies,” Lord Blindle went on. “You can’t tell me that the Trothians aren’t already posturing. I hate to think what will happen when they decide to make their move.”

  “The Trothian posturing, as you put it, is in regards to Ardor Benn.” This came from a new voice at the doorway.

  Ard whirled to see Prime Isle Trable standing rigid. Unlike the queen, he still looked every part the Prime Isle, his purple robes as clean as could be expected. All week long, he had busied himself among the people, speaking calming words and reading passages from Wayfarist Voyage. But he still hadn’t said one word to Ardor Benn. In fact, this was the first time Ard remembered standing within speaking distance of the Prime Isle.

  Ard took it harder than he’d expected. He had filled his life with people who were willing to forgive him. Raek had done it countless times. And regardless of his many offenses toward Quarrah, she kept coming back, too. But Ard had finally given up hope that Olstad Trable might find forgiveness—sparks, he’d settle for understanding.

  Ard stood by what he’d done in the Mooring. Trable had his family—Gaevala and the girls. And if Ard’s actions had in some small measure kept them safe, then it was worth the death of their friendship.

  “Regardless of everything that has happened,” Trable continued impassively, “the Trothian priestess is still determined to exact justice on Ardor for his crimes against her nation.”

  “Exactly!” cried Blindle. “And despite his crimes, our Regulators are spending all their time guarding him.”

  “I assure you that not a single Regulator has received orders to protect Ardor Benn,” Queen Abeth said in a voice of steel. “They guard this building and the royal section of Oriar’s Square.”

  The segregation seemed uncalled for, and Ard realized that the queen had authorized it only to appease the other nobles. She herself was often out among the citizen section with Prime Isle Trable. But Ard didn’t dare venture out to where Lyndel and the Trothians were posturing for justice against him.

  “This man doesn’t have a drop of noble blood in his veins,” said Lord Kinter. “If he’s causing an upset, we should force him to leave the royal section.”

  Ard held up his hands. How had this turned from a plan against the Glassminds to sacrificing Ard to the Trothians so quickly? “I don’t see how that is going to help us with the real problem.”

  “You are the real problem!” shouted Trable. “I don’t know why—call it an Urging from the Homeland—but I can’t shake the feeling that you’re responsible for all of this… the Glassminds, the Moonsickness…”

  Ard cleared his throat. “Everything I’ve done has been Urged by the Homeland.”

  “You arrogant little son of a gun!” Trable laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “The Homeland would never speak to you. You manipulated me, Ardor! You used your connections with the Islehood for your own gain.”

  “I didn’t gain anything,” protested Ard. “Yes, I knew the location of the Islehood’s shell storage. But I didn’t take any of it!”

  Ard’s eyes flicked to Raek, quickly realizing just how hot the water of this conversation was becoming. Downplaying his knowledge of the shell location would only dig into a sore spot with Raek.

  “It doesn’t matter what I knew, or when I knew it,” Ard settled on saying. “What matters is what I did with that information. I saw an opportunity to lure Garifus and his Glassminds out of the Mooring, and I took it.”

  “And I suppose you’d like me to thank you for that?”

  “It was nothing really,” said Ard. “Just putting my life on the line for the Islehood I had sworn to serve.”

  “We have protocols for violent trespassers in the Mooring,” barked Trable. “I had tripped a silent alarm. A sizable Regulation platoon was on its way.”

  “And you think they would have arrived before Garifus plucked your arms off?”

  “I was stalling them,” Trable said. “It was a risk I was willing to take.”

  “Gaevala and the girls need you, Ols—”

  “Do not speak of my family!” he bellowed, silencing Ard with an upraised hand. Then he took a deep breath and seemed to compose himself. “Our friendship might have been nothing more than a ruse to you, but it meant something to me.” He clenched his jaw. “But unlike your other ruses, this one isn’t going to end favorably for you, Ardor Benn.”

  Ard lowered his gaze. “I know.” The defeat in his voice was palpable. “And I’ve come to peace with that.”

  Another bout of awkward silence filled the run-down building. Then Prime Isle Trable tugged at the front of his purple robes. “I came to report that the rations were raided again. Even if we cut bac
k to the bare minimum, we’ll be lucky to last three more days.”

  “We won’t last that long anyway,” said Quarrah. “The Glassminds will get to us before then. They’re an unstoppable force that can’t be run from, beaten, or deceived.”

  Ardor Benn cleared his throat. The bleak picture Quarrah was painting set him up nicely. “I have an idea.”

  He tried to smile coolly as all heads turned to him. Ard’s plan was the very reason he had asked the queen to call this morning’s meeting. Quarrah’s report last night had sealed it for him. He’d barely slept a wink, running his plan through the gauntlet of his mind, testing it for weaknesses and preparing himself for naysayers.

  “Quarrah is right.” Ard slowly rose from his seat. “Things are hopeless. There’s no recovering from this. If it were possible, I’d say our only chance at survival would be a Paladin Visitant. But that doesn’t work anymore. The advent of Spherical Time makes it impossible to reset the Material Time. But what if we could restart it?”

  “What are you talking about?” Prime Isle Trable’s voice was full of distrust.

  “Glassminds exist, but to what end?” Ard asked.

  “To cause all of humankind to evolve or be destroyed,” said the queen.

  Ard held up a finger. “That’s Centrum’s plan. But Evetherey told us the real reason Glassminds were supposed to exist.”

  “To be used in exchange,” said Quarrah. “Send a Glassmind into the Sphere and bring a human life into the Material Time.”

  “Any point in the Material Time,” Ard clarified. He had double-checked that detail with Evetherey just this morning.

  “What’s the point of this?” asked Lord Owers.

  “Don’t you see?” Ard clapped his hands. “Evetherey opens a cloud of Visitant Grit and we all go into the Sphere—”

  “We can’t,” Quarrah cut in. “On the docks, Garifus threw that Regulator into the cloud. He was erased from existence.”

  “Erased, or trapped?” Ard said. “Garifus said we can go in. We just can’t get out.”

  “Sounds like a great plan.” Raek’s comment dripped with sarcasm.

  “We can’t get out of the Sphere… on our own,” Ard added. “But Evetherey has the power to bring us out in exchange for Glassminds.”

  The idea lingered in the room, striking the noble council with varying expressions. Whether or not they were really comprehending it remained to be seen.

  “Let’s say this wild theory could actually work,” said Kinter. “At what point in the past would we all reappear?”

  “How would that be any different than becoming a Paladin Visitant?” asked Prime Isle Trable. “If we could get out, we’d make a huge impact on whatever point we appear, inevitably changing the course of history and erasing all existence. You can’t possibly think to hide eight thousand four hundred and forty-eight of us.”

  “He’s right. We can’t alter the timeline,” Quarrah said again. “Completing the Sphere locked everything down so the Glassminds couldn’t be undone.”

  “I’m not suggesting we change anything,” said Ard. “I’m suggesting we go back to a time when there was nothing to change.”

  The queen leaned forward. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

  “The beginning of time,” said Ard. “The very beginning, even before the gods brought humans to walk on this earth.”

  “How are we supposed to know when that was?” asked Lord Blindle.

  “Evetherey will know,” said Ard. “We’ll become immaterial—lost in a state of limbo. Our existence will be scrubbed from every alternate timeline. But we’ll still exist—just completely removed from time. Evetherey can guide everyone through the Sphere and we’ll exit at the dawn of time itself.”

  “And he’s our bargaining chip?” Lady Werner gestured at Raek. “He’ll remain in the Sphere as an exchange, so the rest of us can exit?”

  Raek shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not how it works. The exchange rate is one to one.”

  “Hold on,” said Trable. “You’re saying we’ll need eight thousand four hundred and forty-eight Glassminds to enter the Sphere with us?”

  “That’s the idea,” said Ard. “And by the sound of it, we’ll have no shortage of them when they come knocking at our proverbial door.”

  “How exactly will this happen?” asked Queen Abeth.

  “Evetherey can create a detonation of Visitant Grit,” Ard began. “All the survivors step in and we vanish into the Sphere. Before the Glassminds can wonder what happened, Evetherey will expand the Visitant cloud to engulf about nine thousand of the enemy. Then the Drothan guides us the rest of the way.”

  Ard knew he’d gone off track somewhere. Raek was shaking his head. “It won’t be that simple. Evetherey won’t be able to push a Visitant cloud on the Glassminds. They’ll absorb it faster than the detonation could catch them.”

  “What if they were distracted?” Ard said.

  “All of them?” Quarrah questioned. “One of them is bound to be paying attention, and since they have a collective mind—”

  “There may be one way,” Raek interrupted. “The Glassminds can’t absorb or manipulate Grit when they are carrying out mental judgment.”

  “Mental judgment?” the queen asked.

  “It’s what they do when they’re evaluating the ideals and thoughts of a new member of their race,” Raek continued. “It’s not a long process, but that would probably be the only time they’d leave themselves vulnerable.”

  Ard nodded. “We saw them do it on Pekal. Their glass skulls glow for a moment and then anyone who doesn’t qualify gets their brains blown out.”

  “So we just need to catch them in the middle of this act?” said Lady Werner. “When will it be happening?”

  “It’s been going on all around the Greater Chain for the last week,” said Quarrah. “Just check the streets of Beripent.”

  “Then we need to go out there,” said Lord Kinter. “Hope we can come upon a group of them while they’re evaluating the newly transformed.”

  “No,” said Ard. “Quarrah’s reports tell us that the transformations are winding down as the Moonsickness becomes more severe. Besides, it’s too risky to hope that we’ll stumble upon nine thousand Glassminds in the same place. And our massive group of humans isn’t going to be stealthy.”

  “Then what are you suggesting?”

  “We wait,” Ard said. “Let them come to us.”

  “I hate to point out the big flaw,” said Raek, “but isn’t the point to catch them with their skulls glowing? By the time they get to us, the Bloodeyes will be too ripe to transform.”

  “But that’s not the only time their heads light up in judgment,” said Ard.

  “Oh?” Raek questioned. “It’s not?”

  “Technically, they could judge each other in the same way, right?”

  “Well… I guess?” He scratched his chin. “But everyone who is part of the group has already been screened and accepted.”

  Ard grinned. “Doesn’t mean they can’t change their minds.”

  “Ha!” Olstad Trable folded his arms. “You’re suggesting that we get the Glassminds to use their fatal judgment system on each other?”

  “Now you’re getting it!” Ard cried. “And the moment they’re distracted by it, Evetherey manipulates a Visitant cloud, surrounding all the human survivors and netting nine thousand unsuspecting Glassminds at the same time.”

  “Well, color me curious.” Prime Isle Trable let out a disapproving chortle. “How exactly do you expect us to turn the Glassminds against each other?”

  That was it! Ard interlaced his fingers tightly as if to hold the idea captive before it escaped. He nodded slowly. “Leave that to the ruse artist.”

  I hope you’ll grant me that one last arrogance. It’s something you won’t have to put up with any longer.

  CHAPTER

  39

  The autumn morning was clear and bright, white clouds billowing across the sky like distant de
tonations. Ahead, on the wide path leading into the forested acreage of the Char, Quarrah saw the Glassminds gathering. It was impossible to tell how many there were, but the red glint of the sun’s rays stretched out of sight toward the Central Quarter.

  A raw anxiety was thick among the eight and a half thousand survivors assembled in Oriar’s Square. Humans of all ages and social standing, mixed with a cluster of Trothians. The children, the elderly, and other noncombatants were huddled in front of the orchestra stage while the more able-bodied citizens were still stumbling to form ranks. Poor souls. Those men and women would be the first line of defense against the enemies. Their lines bristled with wooden spears and clubs, the best they could shape from the trees surrounding the square.

  Quarrah breathed deeply, trying to keep herself steady and focused, standing between Ard and Raek on the outdoor stage. The former was muttering something under his breath, as if rehearsing a memorized script. The latter had his hands outstretched, maintaining his latest Barrier dome—a reduced detonation shielding only the square. Quarrah could see a flicker in his eye. The man was itching for a fight.

  But Ard had promised that there wouldn’t be one today. At least not a fight between the survivors and the Glassminds. The outcome of such a conflict was obvious anyway. No. Ardor Benn was planning to smooth talk their way to salvation…

  Naturally, Quarrah had her concerns.

  “What are they waiting for?” Prime Isle Trable whispered.

  Quarrah glanced over her shoulder at the holy man. He looked blanched with fear, his body stiff under those purple robes. Beside him, Queen Abeth was cool and resolved, wearing trousers and a brown tunic like a common citizen, a Roller clutched in either hand. A dozen of her finest Regulators flanked them, their helmets strapped tightly, dirty uniforms buttoned up.

  “They’re still gathering.” Evetherey’s voice sounded in Quarrah’s head.

  The others must have heard it, too, because the queen replied. “How many are there?”

  “Just under a million,” she replied.

  “Here?” San Green cried, the lad fidgeting behind Ard.