Too tense to sleep, she returned to the common room and sat in the corner, ignored and unseen by all. Every now and then someone would approach her table, thinking to claim it, only to turn away and go elsewhere with a look of dull confusion.
Lebendig had been uninterested in intimacy, not that Stehlen tried. Was the Swordswoman distant, or merely tired? Was she angry about something?
Go to the room and talk to her. Ask. She’ll talk to you. She loves you. She’s still here. She’s still with you even though she doesn’t have to be.
Talk. What a waste of time. When did talk solve anything? Action. Action changed things. Talk clouded issues, made everything more confusing.
Hidden in the dark, Stehlen bared her teeth in a snarl.
Digging into her hidden pockets, she caressed the three carved toys. She found Bedeckt by feel.
Why did men have to be such a gods-damned nuisance?
Really? You doing any better with women?
Stehlen spat.
If you are incapable of having a relationship with men and women, maybe you’re the damned problem.
Stehlen touched the Wichtig carving. Her brows furrowed as she felt the ridge of raw scar marring the perfect face, slashing from right ear to the left side of his chin. She imagined those beautiful lips she so often dreamed of tasting. Not so beautiful now.
Stehlen slammed her fist on the table top. Nearby drunks jumped and wondered what caused the sound. She spat again as if she could rid herself of the foul taste in her life. Wichtig is an idiot. He deserved whatever happened to him. It was long past time someone spoiled those good looks.
Sadness dragged at her heart as if struggling to drown it in the acid of her belly. When she blinked, tears ran, cutting tracks through the dirt caking her face. She drew forth the figurine and studied the battered visage, the bruised look in eyes. For the first time ever Wichtig showed tattered edges of defeat. This face did not wear doubt well.
Good looks were all the man ever had. Sure, he was tolerably skilled with a blade, but it was the boyish charm, the odd innocence of the heroically stupid, that defined him. Of course, all of that was only true for those who somehow ignored the flat grey eyes, the utter death of true emotion. The eyes spoke the lie. Wichtig, no matter how handsome, was a Gefahrgeist. He cared not one wit for any other than himself. He used people and tossed them aside. He was a selfish bastard.
And yet you miss him. You sit here staring at this stupid carving feeling sad that he has been marred.
“I’m only disappointed I’m not there to rub this in your face,” Stehlen said to the carved Wichtig.
The carving looked scared, like it knew she followed in his steps.
This was wrong. All wrong. She couldn’t imagine Wichtig developing character, becoming more like Bedeckt with his old man philosophy and wisdom based on decades of ill choices. Wichtig couldn’t show doubt, he was too damned stupid to be afraid of anything. Nothing was ever supposed to hurt him. That’s who he was.
He’s supposed to drift through life, aimless and thoughtless and learn nothing.
Stehlen growled. This was her fault.
Had I gone after him earlier I could have rescued him before that bitch carved his fingers and ear.
She’d thought it funny to wait.
Now she hated herself. And she hated Wichtig for making her hate herself. He was a manipulative bastard. Not once in all the years she knew him had he let up for a moment. Every breath, every word, every look was an attempt at manipulation. He didn’t even care what he got out of it. As long as he felt he won in some small and stupid way, he was happy.
Stehlen remembered the time Wichtig convinced her to wash her hair so she’d look better for Bedeckt.
These feelings of guilt were no doubt nothing more than the lingering effects of Wichtig’s Gefahrgeist powers. He wasn’t even here, and he was still manipulating her.
“I’m going to kill you,” she told the carving. “And then I’m going to find you in the Afterdeath and rub your smug face in it.”
Maybe after that she’d kill him again.
Two men at a table nearby talked about Wichtig in the awed tones of complete idiots discussing other complete idiots. Stehlen decided to insert herself into the conversation and see if she could learn anything worthwhile.
Bedeckt would have bought the men a round and fascinated them with stories of past deeds real and imagined. Wichtig would have charmed them into buying him round after round. Stehlen had no idea how to do either. Instead, she dropped into an empty chair at their table and glared rage until they noticed her.
Thinking of Wichtig she said, “Buy me a drink,” to the less ugly of the men. He swallowed, eyes wide, and nodded.
The three sat in awkward silence as the innkeeper brought Stehlen a glass of kartoffel, recognized her, and hurried back to the bar to fetch her an ale.
The men stared at the ale in awe, licking their lips.
“Names,” said Stehlen.
“Geil,” said one.
“S?ufer,” said the other.
Silence returned. The two men darted glances at her, making flitting eye contact.
“You were talking about Wichtig Lügner,” she said in an attempt to rekindle their conversation.