Just the hallucinations of a feverish mind. I’m sane. I’m still sane. Once he was better, once the fever broke, he’d be himself again.
“I was awake,” said Zukunft. “When she was talking to you. I heard it all.”
“She?” Bedeckt blinked at the girl, confused. Did she mean one of his hallucinations?
“My sister. She told you that you can save yourself.” She nodded at the mirror, once again reflecting only fire. “She told me you still can. If you abandon me, ride hard—”
“Never trust a Reflection,” said Bedeckt. “She wants you to lose hope. She wants you to surrender. When she’s broken you, she’ll drag you into the mirror. You’ll be trapped there and she’ll be free. That’s all she wants. Everything else is a distraction.”
Zukunft shied, huddling deeper into her blanket, but didn’t look away. “And you? What do you want, if not me?”
I do want you. I want you more than anything. Bedeckt stared at the ground between them, unwilling to meet her eyes. She’s a child. It’s on the list and I will not abandon my list.
He remembered her in that tavern, soaked to the skin, leaning over him, her hair shutting away all the shite of the world until there was only them. He remembered the softness of her lips and the desire to return the kiss. He remembered how small and frail she seemed and yet how strong. Here he was, a scarred murderer, and she did not fear him. He hallucinated the scene over and over and Zukunft watched in silence.
She blinked, spilling fresh tears. “That’s the pretty shell,” she said. “Not the rot within.” Her visage changed, darkened like the sudden onset of a storm. She bared teeth at him like a rabid dog. “All the men I’ve used, bent to my purpose and thrown away. They were nothing. Wretches, led about by their damned cocks. You’re no different. I’ve watched your foul hallucinations. I saw you with that woman. She loved you and you abandoned her.” She bent forward, collecting her mirror to shove it back into its bag. “I expect no better.”
Good. Then maybe she wouldn’t be disappointed.
The fire flickered and jumped and endless war raged around them, men stumbling and screaming and falling to the earth with horrendous wounds. Cities burned and women were raped and murdered, children smashed against stone walls until they hung limp and lifeless. Bedeckt remembered every scene. Not once did he step forward to intervene.
“Wasn’t on my list.”
Men protecting far better rulers than the petty Gefahrgeist tyrants who paid Bedeckt in easy gold, fell before his axe. He walked over them like they were nothing. Eyes ahead, always seeking the next score. A dozen fortunes were made and squandered on whores and drink. Though he often contemplated leaving this life of violence and crime, he never did. Never even tried. He organized each failure with meticulous planning.
He saw Stehlen and Wichtig in an abandoned farmhouse, fighting. Outside lurked the Geborene Geisteskranken, ever tightening the noose, their delusions raping reality. The earth twisted in revulsion, rose up to swallow the hated creatures defiling its surface. Thousands of men and women, marching in loose formation, fell writhing as the dark thoughts lurking in the hearts of all people manifest as demons and clawed their way free. High above, hidden in the clouds, flew something malevolent and evil. It would burn them, melt their bones. His friends would die and there was nothing he could do.
“I can save them,” said Bedeckt.
“They aren’t on your damned list,” said Zukunft. “I’m not on your damned list. I’m using you and I’ll throw you away.”
I don’t care. But he did.
Bedeckt thought back to his conversation with Vergangene, when she climbed from the mirror. Had guilt truly driven his decisions? He remembered kidnapping Morgen, the Geborene godling, and how he planned to kill the boy if need be. And yet somehow he ended up doing everything in his power to keep the lad alive. He told himself it was all for selfish purposes, but somehow that rang false. You killed Stehlen to protect the boy. He remembered lying burnt by the Hassebrand’s fire and choked on the stench of his charred flesh. He remembered wondering at adding something to his list so late in life. And here he was trying to undo the damage he’d done the boy instead of using the godling like he should have from the beginning. All because…
The damned list is a prison.
Let Vergangene have Zukunft. What was the death of a deranged Mirrorist to him?
Morgen could have his way with the world. How was this Bedeckt’s responsibility? Let the little bastard make everything clean and perfect.
To hells with Stehlen and Wichtig. They followed him until following got them both dead. The bastards chased him from the Afterdeath. They probably meant to kill him, to send him screaming back to that grey hell. But they were still following. Their deaths would be his fault.
Fault. Guilt. All the deepest horse shite.