The Second Endgame
Order’s Last Play #3
by E. Ardell

“Trust no god” is the best advice ever given. Too bad no one can take it as intergalactic chaos spreads, heroes switch sides, and divine, new players start making moves.

Doomed to play the roles Order’s cast them in, Lyle, Evan and Lawrence Lauduethe struggle to make the dangerous decisions needed to win an intergalactic crusade. Meanwhile, recent prisoner of war Devon finds himself face-to-face with the enemy god, Order’s son Pandemonium. Desperate to return to his brothers, Devon considers a counteroffer made by Pandemonium who will save Devon’s loved ones if he surrenders. As Devon discovers the universe isn’t as black and white as he once believed, Lyle, losing his mind from prolonged separation from his twin, sells the rest of his soul to Order, betraying brothers and friends alike to ensure Order returns Devon to his side.

Fearing that his blindness is permanent, Lawrence travels to a distant planet for a magical procedure that might restore his eyesight or leave him in the dark forever, while Evan ventures out to join the war effort’s ground forces. Partnered with a stowaway Maiden and former love from a past life, Evan may hold the key to unlocking a power that could free him and his brothers from Order’s curse and level the godly playing field at a deadly cost.

As the war boils to a head, the Lauduethe brothers are pawns and rooks in a perilous endgame. The gambit is on the table, but what will the brothers choose when mortal lives are the sacrifice?

5 out of 5 fairies

I was hooked from the first page, and couldn’t put it down. Although this is the third book in a series, you don’t need to read the first two. You’ll have a deeper understanding of the characters and setting, but Ardell does a great job of filling in the pieces for new readers. (And if you start with this book, you’ll absolutely want to go back and read the others, the story is just too good)! The world-building is top tier, and the magic system is very well-developed. I loved getting to know the characters, and seeing their unique personalities and how they interacted with each other. There was plenty of tension to keep everything moving forward at a good pace. If you enjoy space operas with a touch of magic, you’re going to love this book!

Chapter 1 – Lyle

A FLAMING HULA-HOOP FLIES AT my face, then springs upward, spinning over my head as if waiting for my permission to come down. I wave it away, watching it whirl off toward someone else, and glare at my brother across the clearing. I told Evan I don’t dance, or hula hoop, or whatever the hell else he wants to call it, but he won’t give up.

How are we related? You have to dance. It’s in your blood.

Evan’s thought is a shout echoed by feelings of incredulity and amplified by surges of something I don’t understand.

My older brother comes from the same mess of DNA I do, half-human and the other half a conglomerate of multiple breeds of alien fae the Lauduethe side of the family slept with over the centuries. This made me

psychic, Devon superman, Lawrie an elemental, and Evan a fire-breath- ing magic user who gets sugar highs from being outdoors.

Months of getting used to him keeps me from jumping when Evan is suddenly in my space, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me down to match his shorter height. Once my green eyes are locked onto his identical ones, he shakes me. “This. Is. A. Celebration. Let loose!”

He lets go of my shoulders so I can straighten up but then grips my arm, turning me in a slow circle so that I can see things I’ve already seen. The back-wood clearing behind The Maiden’s castle is a grassy dance floor, the trees providing natural walls and lighting. Their basketball-sized fruit-bulbs flicker white-blue, green, and purple. The deep pounding of multiple drums and the trills of woodwinds from a sunken orchestra pit at the center of the chaos echo into the night. The rave that looks like a RenFaire Gone Wild, the Green Alien Edition, will probably rage until morning.

It’s hard to believe that only a few months ago this wood was razed by battle. Some of these carefree, Lenoran partygoers had stood on ground zero, chanting spells to erect and hold barrier wards around the palace. And maybe they’re not cavalier at all. The passion in their dancing, the movements acrobatic and fast, could be a way to release pent-up frustra- tion and anger at their home being invaded. They turn and leap, going up on their toes and down on their knees. I’m tired just watching. A few work fiery hula hoops around their hips, unafraid of being burned.

“Where’s Lawrie?” I look around for our little brother, feeling guilty for losing track of him about ten minutes into the party. We came together, but since this party is for him, and he dances, he was dragged into a routine.

“Having fun.” Evan lets me go, pushing me closer to a group of women working hula hoops around their waists. “Lyle, this is our last night together before Lawrie leaves. Don’t make him want to end his own party early.”

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. Lenore’s permanent smell of cinnamon and sugar, the outdoor scent as normal as the reek of road tar back home in Houston, makes me sick. Lawrie takes off for another planet in the morning, and in a few days, we’ll know if his eyesight can be restored. Or if he’s going to live life in the dark forever.

I don’t think I could do it. Don’t know how he manages. He says he sees through his powers. That the atoms around him shape the world, and his other senses are sharpening. But I think he copes because he believes the healers on Bruhje will fix him.

“Let me teach you to dance.” The intention behind Evan’s words is clear: keep Lyle from depressing himself. In his opinion, I wallow too much. “You should know how. There’ll be more flame-dancing for Devon’s return party in a little while-and don’t tell me he doesn’t dance either.”

So, I don’t, because my twin dances at parties. Hell, he throws them. He was popular in school. Played sports, was nice to people, kept up with trends. And if Devon was here, he’d push me to dance too.

A pang of separation anxiety almost makes my eyes water. I blink rapidly and startle at Evan’s sharp whistle. A grass-vine creeps toward his hand. He grabs it, whipping it straight and then blowing on its bottom end. The vine ignites in his hand, the bright flame becoming an eerie spotlight that illuminates his tawny skin and catches the darker undertones in his too long, curly blond hair. He tosses the vine into the air, whistling again,

causing it to furl… into a damn hula hoop. It lowers, and he puts his arm through it, spinning it, then moving it to the other arm, over his head, down to his waist, then back up to his neck.

“You don’t have to know any steps. Just keep the ring going. The trick is,”-the ring jumps, flying over his head and revolving above mine-“the ring moves itself. If it comes too close to your body, it’ll avoid you. So, you’ll look good doing virtually nothing.”

The ring drops, falling to my waist. And then I’m stuck with a flaming hula hoop. My older brother laughs like someone fresh out of an asylum before vanishing into the crowd. Did I really miss out on anything by not having grown up with him? Jerk.

Bodies brush by me. Voices speaking in foreign languages rush past. The bright colors decorating the clearing make my vision blurry. Weeks ago, I would have been in sensory overload. Collapsed somewhere dark, wishing for brain-numbing drugs to knock me out.

I suppress a smile. Warmth from my Stone seeps into my skin as it emits a soft blue glow. An extra layer of protection drapes itself over my mind like a blanket, my mental shields rock solid in a way they’ve never been. I stroke the Stone, tracing its smooth edges through my t-shirt. Great leader or not, I will always prefer Earth cotton to alien silk.

A mental proximity alarm thrums, the pulse rippling from the nape of my neck into my scalp. I whip around, fiery hula-hoop swaying, to be face-to-face with Maiden Nialiah. Her solid black eyes gleam as she flutters long lashes and smirks at me with red lips.

I don’t know if she wears makeup or if she naturally looks like a green Barbie doll, but she’s attractive. I know it, and my girlfriend, Caea Har- liel, knows I know it. I step back. “What is it?”

She raises a thin brow. “Perhaps I want a dance.” She reaches out, but her hand stops at the flaming hula hoop. I take back any bad thoughts I had about Evan. Nialiah’s flirty expression turns serious. “We have had word from several checkpoints and a report concerning Disiez.”

Disiez.

The last planet Devon had been on before he left with his Stone. “Did Devon call again? Did he ask for me? Is he okay?” Fear tries to rip the blanket off my mental shields.

No.

Devon will be here soon. He gave an ETA of a few weeks. It’s been that. And Nialiah’s not answering me.

“Nialiah, is he okay?” I keep my voice level as new panic gives fear the strength it needs to invade every fiber of my being.

The Maiden frowns. “Not here. Come with me.”

The hula hoop stops turning. It falls to the ground with a thump, its fire extinguishing. My lungs can’t keep up with my rapid heartbeat. I grab Nialiah’s wrists.

Power from the Stone surges through me. The mental blanket that hysteria ripped away is tucked around my mind again. It’s a medicated bandage, sealing out excessive emotions and any external thoughts and feelings from the outside world.

Suddenly, I can think, breathe, and continue to function without melt- ing. Because broken psychics burn out. I’m not broken anymore.

I release Nialiah’s wrists and put steel in my voice. “Where the hell is my brother?”

Nialiah smiles slowly, seeming impressed. “He has been taken.”

TRAVERSING THE TUNNELS BENEATH THE castle will never stop being creepy as hell. Why The Maidens put their secret meeting room in what used to be a dungeon is beyond me. I keep two feet between myself and Nialiah as we approach a set of double doors. Before she can knock, I open them with telekinesis. The wooden frames rebound off the stone walls, and I frown. I only gave it a little push. Or at least I thought I did.

The Stone glows, its power calming me. Everything will be ftne, it whis- pers.

Councilors Theorne and Viveen, as well as Nialiah’s adopted sister Maiden Hellene already sit around the rectangular table. Their heads snap toward the door, then to me. I scowl at them and make my way to the chair at the head of the table.

I sit and wait for Nialiah to take her seat, then gaze at the faces around me.

Theorne and Viveen meet my eyes. An undercurrent of irritation runs through them both, and I bite back a smirk. They hate not being able to talk down to me anymore.

“Leader Three,” Theorne says, voice neutral, “this is your first damage control meeting. No one else in the palace is privy to what we know as of right now. Seeing as you know nothing of these kinds of procedures, I suggest you simply listen.”

He doesn’t want me to talk, which is fine. I’ve got nothing to say. But I love that Theorne has to ‘suggest’ what he thinks I should do instead of barking commands like he could months before I joined Order’s inner circle.

Order had let Her secret conspirators know that I’m Her favorite Cham- pion now. Reprimands in the form of magical shocks are dealt to mem- bers who openly disrespect me.

I meet Theorne’s sharp gaze and hold it. “If you start with what hap- pened to my brother and how we’re going to fix it, I don’t care.”

Theorne’s electric blue eyes spark, and I swear his goatee curls.

Maiden Hellene, green-skinned like her adopted sister, clears her throat and glares at me through hard black eyes. “The mainland of Disiez was lost to a tidal wave. There are no survivors.”

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table, brows knitting. That doesn’t make sense. Devon’s mage built a ward to keep that from hap- pening. That was the agreement the Allegiances struck with the Disi people. Devon would be allowed safely on-planet to retrieve his Stone

from their ocean, if the Allegiances provided them with magical protec- tion from their rising waters.

Hellene’s tone is cold. “Leader Two’s ship never departed from that planet. It was recovered, along with a number of bodies that belong to our Allegiances’ military.”

My stomach climbs into my throat.

“Missing from the count of recovered bodies are Leader Two and the Harliel king. The message you received from your brother came approx- imately five jewels after the population of Disiez was destroyed.”

My lungs shudder, only working when they want to.

“You say this as if the tidal wave was not a force of nature.” Nialiah looks up from her manicure. “That planet was a lost cause.”

“A lost cause drowned by magic, not nature. Traces of a barrier spell broken by its caster were discovered,” Hellene retorts. “There is also evidence of Nazflit occupation. Bodies in Nazflit military uniforms were also found along with take-off rings on the launch site Leader Two and King Xijure Harliel should have departed from. Leader Two left the planet before its demise, yes, but not on one of our ships.”

Air filters into my lungs. Devon was gone before the disaster. He’s not at the bottom of some ocean. He’s not dead. I know this because I talked to him. He… he seemed strange, off. I missed something in the call. Had he tried to send me a signal, anything, to let me know he was in trouble? I was so distracted by the Stone, Order’s inner circle, Caea…

The room swims in and out of focus while the conversation continues around me.

“Only key members of the Silver and Gold Allegiances have this in- formation.” Viveen’s sharp features make her look more vulture than person. I always feel like she’s waiting for people to drop dead so she can pick their bones.

“Key members,” I murmur, like us. “Do they have deals too?”

“With Lady Kahanna?” Nialiah peers at me under her lashes. “Of course. To win a war, our goddess must have deep pockets.”

Order-Kahanna-the goddess with shark-teeth and black holes for eyes, created a prophecy about my brothers and me. Our choices will end hundreds of years of intergalactic war. Everyone on Her side will live happily ever after, and all the bad guys on Her Son’s side, the god Pandemonium-Kahine-will go to Hell. Or so the Old Texts written during the Prophetic Cycles are rumored to say. The fact that Order’s prophecy is a wild spell She cast and can’t control is something only this circle knows.

“I think we should wait until after Leader Four’s departure to release this development to the public,” Theorne says. “It is imperative that we attempt all measures to have his vision restored. Such news may postpone his journey.”

Theorne looks at me.

Lawrie would insist on staying here. And maybe I want him here, so I know where he is, unlike Devon. I’m going to throw up. If I open my mouth to say anything else, I’ll… Cool energy flows through my body, and I pull the Stone from under my shirt, fingering its silver chain.

Breathe, it says.

“What happens to Devon if we wait?” I ask carefully.

Viveen rests her long-fingered hands on the table. “Our recent discov- eries are undoubtedly known by the Nazflit and the Su, so we should anticipate an attempt at negotiation from them soon. If Leader Two and Xijure Harliel are still alive.”

Breathe.

“We know they are still alive, fool, or else why would the Nazflit bother to have Leader Two send a message?” Hellene sneers at Viveen, who glares back.

I don’t know their back story, but none of the people in Order’s VIP circle get along inside or outside of class. And I don’t care. “So, we’ll negotiate. What do you think they’ll ask for? We should start getting it together-“

“They will ask for our surrender, or for us to cast aside Order’s Gifts.” Hellene draws out her words, as if speaking to a toddler who won’t listen. “We cannot do that.”

Surrender means we cease to exist because Pandemonium wins.

But to give up Order’s Gifts: the Harliels’ weapons, the Maidens’ arm- bands, the Stones… my Stone.

That brings control. Peace.

Quiet.

“I can’t give up my Stone.” I can’t go back to that loud, painful place that was psychic hell ever again. Guilt from knowing I can’t give up the Stone for Devon and grief for my brother grip respective shoulders and pull until I feel something inside tear.

“I will not surrender my Gift either.” Hellene touches the silver cuff I know she wears beneath the gauntlet sleeve of her dress.

“Caea and Ramesis might. Lawrie and Evan might,” I say. They’d all be weaker in battle. Order’s Gifts have saved all of us at least once, Evan twice.

“This is a game of strategy, Leader Three.” Theorne steeples his hands under his chin. “You never give up a trump card for a release of materials that are of lesser value.”

“Lesser value.” I jump up, bringing the heavy stone table up with me. I slam it down, power unstrained, satisfied at the cracks made in the floor. Viveen and Theorne push their chairs back, leaping away. Their eyes are wild as they look at me. Hellene and Nialiah remain seated, unaffected. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I think about getting in Theorne’s face, staring him down with only millimeters between us. But…

Breathe.

“Lyle.” Nialiah’s voice is intoxicating, like a singing witch who makes people strip and hand over their cash. “Kahanna has ten Champions. Xi- jure and Devon are but two. Do we risk endangering our deals, meaning none of us will survive this war, none of your brothers will survive, for the return of two?”

I stare at her.

Breathe.

“With all of our weapons gone, we lose.” Nialiah’s words are soft, purring. “Do you value Devon over the rest of your family and friends? And even then, if he is returned, he will be safe for a limited time. If we lose the war, it is over for us all.”

Breathe. I can’t.

“C-can’t we… We should summon Her. Call Order,” I choke.

“Kahanna cannot be bothered with such small matters.” Hellene’s voice drips with disdain. “This is why She selected us to know Her ultimate vision. We are trusted to deal with the trivialities of war. Our policy is not to negotiate.”

“We did not negotiate for Leader One,” Viveen says.

I reach for her with my powers, sensing the thrum of her mind. I can’t hear her thoughts through her mental shields unless I break them. And I can. I can wring her brain like a sponge. Let’s see her say things like ‘We planned your brother’s funeral before he was dead’ after that.

Breathe.

I clench my jaw. “I think Order will make an exception.”

“For you?” Hellene laughs, but her eyes are on fire. “She likes you as She liked Jain Peredil. However, your predecessor fell from grace. She has not forgotten that, and you should not forget that the Remasian leader She

truly favors is the Child of Magic. Of whom you are not. Do not tempt your fate.”

Jain Peredil, a past me who made bad choices. He let his brothers, the original Four of Rema, the ones who were supposed to end this war hundreds of years ago, die. I won’t do that.

I try to smile at Hellene and fail. Evan grins at people he hates all the time, and it scares the hell out of them. I’m no good at scaring people that way. I settle for turning my back to her. “So, you won’t summon Order?”

“No.” The answer is flat, final.

Breathe.

“We will share our decision with the consortia”-the rest of the people in Order’s inner circle not present-“in a jewel.” Theorne grabs his chair, pushing it back to its previous place at the table. I sense his hesitation, but it doesn’t stop him from sitting down near me while I’m still standing. It makes me taller than him.

Viveen stays where she is, a few feet away from the table, her chair on its side, as she frowns at me. Maybe she felt me in her head.

I hope she did.

“After we have the majority vote…” Hellene’s eyes are on me “…which will be to move forward with the loss of but two Champions, I think the militia should be informed.”

“So… we’re going to tell everyone Devon and Xijure are dead?” I sit down, studying the fissures the table made in the floor.

“We tell our government, leaders, and fighters that we have suffered a loss,” Theorne says. “And we will use the loss as inspiration for our mission.”

“And what is that exactly? Tell me again.” I sound like the agitator in the back of the classroom who always has something to say.

“To save the world,” Theorne says, steepling his hands under his chin again, “by ensuring that when it is reborn, it is reborn with the best of us left behind to populate and nurture it.”

And there’s Order’s mess. The prophecy that ruined my life also promises that everything and everyone flying Order’s banner is safe if She wins. Only a limited few are privy to the fine print. If She wins, the only other major god on the gameboard-Pandemonium-has to leave, and with Him gone, She intends to wipe the board clean and start over.

She wants a new world. One without the Creations of other gods making things difficult for Her. She didn’t Create any of us. Pandemonium didn’t Create us. And so, neither god can control or possess us, not directly. They have to ask for our help in ending the world as we know it, and for a reward? Order will keep some of us-the ones of us in this room and in a few other rooms like this one on other planets, and the people we bargained for.

I asked Her to save my family, my Court, Caea, and her brothers. The Maidens get to keep their entire planet and people. I don’t know who the other Circle members asked for, but aside from them, everyone else dies.

I finger the chain of my Stone before taking the warm gem in my palm.

Breathe.

Order favors me. She’ll make an exception for Devon. I need a private audience with Her. I can’t work magic, so I can’t do a summons.

Breathe.

“Are you alright?”

I look up to find Nialiah beside my chair. Theorne, Viveen, and Hellene are gone. Guess the meeting’s over. I lean back. My arms and legs are weak, and a headache brews behind my eyes. But I need to…

Breathe.

Nialiah touches my hand, and I gaze at her in full. She’s medium height, curvy. The shift dress she wears is the same style as Hellene’s, long with gauntlet sleeves to cover her Gift from Order.

Hellene is the one who normally summons Order. But does she do it because she’s the only one who can, or is it because she’s the one who volunteers? Nialiah’s magic should rival Hellene’s. No one ever talks about any of The Maidens-Hellene, Nialiah, or Imari-being stronger than one another. I think Lenorans rank them according to age and temperament, not power.

Breathing is suddenly easier, and swallowing is no longer a task.

I turn my hand over, clutching Nialiah’s startled fingers. “I think I’ll be fine.”

Her full lips purse, then even into a pleased smile.

“But I wonder…” I use my thumb to massage the pulse in her wrist. She quirks a brow and takes a seat on the table, crossing one leg over the other, not taking back her hand.

“Yes?”

“Are you able to summon Kahanna?”

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