“There are six,” said Regen.
Gehirn squinted. “Your eyes are better than mine.” Six, coming from the north. From Selbsthass? From Konig? A moment of nervous uncertainty. She sighed. “I’d best tell Erbrechen.” She turned and saw the Slaver staring past her with undisguised interest.
“Regen,” said Erbrechen, “bring our new friends to meet me.”
The shaman scowled but set out toward the six intruders.
Gehirn watched the malnourished shaman make his way through the crowd. Regen, weak from blood loss and lack of sleep, stumbled often. The shaman slowed as he neared Erbrechen’s new friends, stopping several yards short of the six. He turned to look back at Erbrechen and Gehirn. The Hassebrand thought she saw bad teeth in a wide grin.
“What the hells is he smiling about?” Erbrechen asked, peeved.
A moment of understanding and fear rocked Gehirn. Only one thing could give the scrawny goat sticker such a smile:
Freedom.
And what would free Regen?
Death.
Regen said something to the guests but Gehirn couldn’t hear what. Weapons hissed from sheaths with unnatural speed and cut Regen down. The Schlammstamm shaman fell, still grinning, in three pieces.
The calm eye of the storm slammed closed with concussive force. A flash of lightning lit the hellish scene with a blinding brilliance, and Gehirn saw clearly the six as they stalked, weapons drawn, toward Erbrechen’s litter.
Anomie and her Schatten Mörder. Gehirn had always wondered if she could defeat the Theocrat’s favorite killers. She would rather have faced Asena and her Tiergeist. Not for fear of Anomie, but rather because of the hunger the lithe Therianthrope filled her with. Asena’s loathing of Gehirn made her all the more desirable. Alas, it was not to be this evening.
Erbrechen screamed orders and declarations of love at the Schatten Mörder.
They ignored him, cutting down all who blocked their path.
Gehirn slipped from the litter to stand between Erbrechen and the living dead. They can kill him after they’ve killed me.
The horizon crushed inward from all directions.
CHAPTER 24
Insanity is the only reasonable response to such a responsive reality.
—WAHRHEIT ERTRINKT, PHILOSOPHER
Acceptance, Abandonment, and Trepidation stood facing each other. Those within the mirror, engaged in an intense conversation of their own, ignored those without.
The commingled bloodstains of Tragen Nachrichten and Chief Scientist Aufschlag Hoher tugged at Acceptance’s attention. Those dark smears covered the older stains left from his beating. Hidden, but not forgotten. He’d have his revenge soon enough.
Acceptance watched the reflections from the corner of his eye, careful not to seem too interested. He didn’t want to give anything away. Trepidation, far too paranoid, would never fall for the trap he’d arranged with the reflections. Abandonment’s fear of being left out, he gambled, would leave him susceptible.
Abandonment made no attempt to hide his suspicion. “You knew the reflections would point at Aufschlag before you saw the shards of broken mirror on his shoes. I saw you notice the glass. I saw, in your eyes—”
“Eye,” Acceptance corrected coldly.
Abandonment shrugged. “I had no choice.” It wasn’t an apology. Konig’s Doppels were no more capable of apology than Konig. “I saw in your eye the conception of a plan.” He rubbed his chin, giving Acceptance an appraising look. “Or perhaps the completion of a plan already in motion?”
Acceptance allowed a small, smug smile to grace his lips and die. “I have a means of communicating with Konig’s reflections.”
“You wrote notes and held them up to the mirror?” asked Abandonment.
Acceptance ignored the question. He needed to give Abandonment just enough to draw him in. “If Morgen Ascends as Konig plans, we will remain, at best, Doppels. Forever. With his made god he may even banish us. Anything is possible. With Aufschlag gone, Konig’s one source of rational wisdom is removed. He fears Morgen will be infected and so he will slay the child.” Acceptance showed broken teeth in a victorious leer. “Konig is terrified and alone; he is not thinking clearly. Morgen will recognize his assassins and know Konig sent them. It will poison the new god against the man who created him. Konig’s mind will crumble and we will rise to supremacy.” And I will slay whichever assassin kills the child, for Konig will be long dead by the time they return.
“Your plan has flaws,” said Trepidation. “If Morgen turns against Konig, he may kill the man. We would not survive.”
“You developed some simple sign language?” Abandonment asked.
Acceptance snorted in derision, again ignoring the question. “Morgen is incapable of hurting anyone.”
“People change,” whispered Trepidation.
Abandonment’s eyes narrowed. “You can somehow hear the reflections?”
Acceptance froze for a moment before answering. “It is very difficult.”
“How?” Abandonment demanded.
“Why?” Acceptance asked, feigning suspicion. “What are you planning?”
“Planning? How can I have a plan if I just learned of this. If you figured it out, I can too.”
Acceptance pretended to deflate. “First, if they’re not already looking, you have to bang on the mirror to get their attention.” He pretended annoyance. “Sometimes they ignore you. If you press your ear to the mirror you can hear what they’re saying. Just like pressing your ear to a door or window. They have to do the same on their side to hear you.” He uttered an embarrassed laugh. “It’s comical, really.”
Abandonment, as incapable of humor as Konig, examined the mirror without expression. The reflections within, lost in their own conversation, ignored the Doppels.
“It might be dangerous,” hissed Trepidation.
“Trepidation is right,” suggested Acceptance carefully. “It might be best if only I communicate with them.”
Abandonment ignored him and approached the floor-to-ceiling mirror. He rapped twice on the glass with his knuckles and watched as the reflections looked up and then returned to their conversation. He stared at them for a moment before turning and walking to Konig’s massive oak desk. He collected the heavy clay mug and returned to the mirror. This time he knocked on the mirror’s surface with the mug. Hard. The reflections looked up, startled, and froze when he mimed smashing the mirror with the mug. Abandonment gestured them toward him and they hurried to press their ears to their side of the glass.
Abandonment glanced over his shoulder at the other Doppels. “They must understand who holds the power here.” He returned his attention to the mirror. “Tell me everything you told Acceptance or I will smash the mirror.” He looked thoughtful. “Do you see into the future?”
Leaning back from the mirror’s surface, they nodded and started babbling. Abandonment pressed his ear against the glass to listen. His eyes narrowed, as if he was struggling to hear what the reflections were saying. They widened suddenly, glancing at Acceptance in alarm as grasping hands reached through the mirror’s surface and tangled in his clothes.
Abandonment screamed in terror as the reflections dragged him through into their world. He didn’t stand a chance with over a dozen reflections clawing at his robes and hair. In his panic he dropped the mug and it shattered across the floor.
Trepidation understood immediately. Acceptance set this up, planned it from the beginning. Trepidation also learned something: He wasn’t a manifestation of Konig’s fear of others or the unknown. He was Konig’s fear of himself.
Abandonment’s screams and cries for help choked off as his head passed through the mirror’s surface. Acceptance and Trepidation watched the reflections claw the Doppel apart in eerie silence. They watched the reflections devour the small chunks torn from Abandonment. Within minutes there was no proof the Doppel ever existed.
“Would you be so kind as to clean up the broken mug?” Acceptance asked.
<
br /> Trepidation backed away. “If you think I’m going anywhere near the mirror, you’re crazy.”
“Of course I’m crazy. So are you. We’re figments of a deluded mind.” Acceptance showed sharp shards of broken teeth in a mad leer. “Abandonment abandoned Konig. He faded to nothing. You understand what this means?”
“I am a manifestation of fear, not one of . . .” Trepidation trailed off, looking for the right word. “Drive.”
Acceptance lost the crazed look. “True. And perceptive. Konig was right; we Doppels will never work together. So let’s get it straight: we are not cooperating. You will obey or I will feed you to the reflections.”
Trepidation bowed low. “You will replace Konig, but you will always have need of fear and caution. They keep us alive. You, with your need for acceptance, were always at odds with Abandonment.” Trepidation chose his words carefully. “Abandonment is gone and you will Ascend to take Konig’s place.”
“With you at my side,” said Acceptance.
“No,” corrected Trepidation. “With me one step behind. In my place.”
Acceptance cleared the fragments of shattered mug from the floor but kept a close eye on the reflections. He did not want to suffer Abandonment’s fate. He might use the reflections, but he certainly didn’t trust them.
He whistled tunelessly as he worked. He hadn’t felt this happy since . . . he tongued the ragged edges of broken teeth. Glancing about to make sure Trepidation wasn’t looking, he drew out the small mirror he’d begun carrying around to check on the progress of his healing; the large floor-to-ceiling mirror still refused to show his own reflection. Holding the small mirror to his face, he lifted his eye patch, grimaced at the puckered wound around his missing eye, and shuddered at the ruin of his mouth. His lips were cut and swollen, covered in ill-healed scabs. Acceptance’s good mood curled and died like a wisp of paper in a raging fire.
One debt repaid, one to go. Only then, with his fellow Doppels gone, would he take Konig’s place.
HOURS LATER KONIG returned to his chambers and glared at the two Doppels awaiting his return. His gaze darted about the room.
“Where is Abandonment?”
“He is gone,” said Trepidation.
“He faded away not long after you left the room,” agreed Acceptance.
“Faded away?”
The two Doppels nodded in perfect unison.
“You understand, do you not, what this means?” Acceptance asked.
Trepidation answered. “You have shed your fear of abandonment. Sending Asena away broke her hold on you much as commanding the assassins to slay the boy broke—”
“They had no hold on me,” Konig muttered. “I need no one.”
The fool lies even to himself, thought Acceptance.
The two Doppels bowed their heads in acceptance of the reprimand.
“Asena means nothing to you now,” said Acceptance.
Konig looked doubtful. “I sent her away. I fear no betrayal or abandonment.”
More lies.
“No,” said Trepidation. “I am still here. She may yet betray us.”
“Betray me,” corrected Konig.
“You,” agreed the Doppels in unison.
Konig met the eyes of his remaining Doppels. “She is dangerous.”
They nodded their agreement.
Acceptance didn’t care if Konig truly believed that he had shed his fear of abandonment. With the thought planted, the belief would grow. Gefahrgeist excelled at convincing themselves. It was their greatest strength and most terrible weakness.
CHAPTER 25
What is faith but delusion without the power to back it up?
—VERSKLAVEN SCHWACHE, GEFAHRGEIST PHILOSOPHER
The sky broke and torrents of rain and hail hammered the earth. Slashing lightning lit the dark underbellies of sick and heavy clouds with flickering and unnatural hues. The heavens screamed in torment.
Anomie, deafened by Konig’s delusions, heard none of this. Even the stunning displays of color seemed little more than strobing shades of gray. The eyes of the dead, robbed of life and beauty, saw the world as a stain of monochromatic twilight.
Men and women, gaunt with hunger and covered in filth, hurled themselves in the path of the Schatten Mörder. Life meant nothing to Anomie. It rose before her and she cut it down. For those who could achieve the Afterdeath, annihilation was a gift. Anomie and her Schatten Mörder had many gifts to give. They climbed mountains of dead and more flocked to receive their alms.
They mobbed her, stabbing and cutting, punching and kicking. It meant nothing. She felt nothing.
She knew this to be the camp of a Slaver. Though they were never as large, she’d seen similar groups before. The boy will be here somewhere. She’d kill the Slaver at the heart of this mob and help Morgen Ascend, as was his destiny. Death will be my gift to the god-child.
A stabbing flash of lightning momentarily blinded the living but, to Anomie’s dead eyes, served only to better illuminate the hellish scene.
Gehirn Schlechtes, Konig’s pet Hassebrand, stood waiting for her with a feral smile. Gehirn’s doglike canines glinted in the brief light. Anomie laughed. The dry hollows of her empty skull flickered with reflected light. The skulls of the dead, skin long cracked and peeled away, grin forever.
Gehirn gestured and burned clear a path between herself and the Schatten Mörder. Like rushing tidewaters, the Slaver’s followers poured in to fill the cleared area.
Anomie laughed again, an insane cackle dying as breath leaked from decaying lungs.
Fire meant nothing to the dead.
Gehirn, standing before the litter, waited impatiently. Erbrechen wailed terrified orders at those carrying his litter, but the crash of thunder and raging storm winds stole all sound.
The Schatten Mörder, Konig’s Cotardist assassins, could be here for one purpose and one purpose only: to kill Gehirn.
Her dream . . . it had been true. Gehirn’s heart broke and she choked back a sob. Konig hates me. It wasn’t enough to cast her aside; he sought her death.
Fire throbbed through her veins. Konig would get this message loud and clear.
Impatient, she burned the mob of Erbrechen’s followers, impeding Anomie’s progress. The assassin, backed by her cadre of rotting flesh, laughed at Gehirn.
“No one laughs at me!” she screamed in rage.
Anomie kept laughing, as if she hadn’t heard.
Betrayed.
Abandoned.
Mocked.
Gehirn lit the Schatten Mörder like candles.
Anomie burst into flames, and for a moment, the world disappeared in a torrent of fire. But her sight didn’t depend on eyes. She could still see. Flames licked around her body, igniting shreds of clothing. What dried flesh remained clinging to her body burned away. She felt nothing. No pain. No fear. Flesh was an impediment and the fire would burn her clean. Later, when Gehirn lay dead, they could smother these flames.
And if you misjudged the Hassebrand’s power?
At worst she’d be freed of her eternal hell.
“You are a fool,” she tried to scream at Gehirn but only a dry croak escaped. She’d forgotten to fill her lungs. It annoyed her. She tried to draw breath and failed. Fire had burned ragged holes in her papery lungs. This would make communication difficult in the future.
Anomie saw the fool’s mouth moving but heard nothing. The fat Hassebrand was comical, and she laughed. Her Schatten Mörder, each a walking bonfire, moved forward to flank her. The path between them and Gehirn cleared, they stalked toward the Hassebrand. Swords, cherry red with heat, hung ready in strong hands cremated of flesh and muscle.
Does Gehirn crave death as much as I? If so, the Hassebrand’s heart’s desire would soon be granted.
Gehirn watched the Cotardists approach. These dead did not shamble. Even aflame, the assassins crouched and moved with lethal grace. As walking fires they became beautiful, entrancing and mesmerizing. Sensuous even. Will they surround m
e, hug me tight in a fiery embrace? Would she die as she had lived, in the suffocating heat of need? Could there be anything more beautiful?
Gehirn lifted her arms, reaching toward the assassins. Bring me death—
“Burn them!” Erbrechen screamed from the litter. “They’re going to kill me!”
Gehirn could not ignore such commands; his need crushed hers, usurped all volition. She couldn’t let them hurt her love, even if Erbrechen sought only to use her.
Still, some small part of her craved punishment and held back the full force of her strength. Gehirn pointed and Anomie’s sword melted to slag and ran like blood to cover her skeletal hand in a sheen of molten metal.
Yet the corpse continued its advance, holding the molten fist in the air as if she planned to beat Gehirn to death with it.
“Burn them all!” screamed Erbrechen. “Now!”
Gehirn burned them to ash with a wave of her hand. All of them. Anomie. Her five Schatten Mörder. Then she burned Erbrechen’s friends. Thousands of tiny lives snuffed in a flash of heat. She burned them all. She stood in a small circle of mud surrounded by acres of ash.
The sky cracked and lightning lashed the heavens. Dark and pregnant clouds gave birth and fist-sized stones of hail hammered the earth.
Erbrechen, still cowering on the litter, wailed as hail struck him. Gehirn had to protect her love—and she only knew one way to do so.
She lit the sky afire.
She burned the sky clean of clouds and the encircling storm rushed to fill what had been its calm eye. Gehirn devoured the sky with loving flame and heat. After what seemed like an eternity of fire, the strength of the storm failed. The sun slammed through the shredding cloud like an avenging hammer.
Gehirn stood, arms spread, gazing in adoration at the ultimate fire. The stench of burning flesh filled the air, occluding the sun with the smoke rising from her blackening body. Her eyes melted and ran like butter.
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