Wichtig stood over Stehlen’s corpse, sword hanging loose in his hand. He released the weapon, letting it fall to the ground.
Wichtig would never drop his sword. To drop a sword was to surrender. Wichtig would never surrender his quest to be the Greatest Swordsman in the World. Bedeckt watched Wichtig stand, unarmed, sobbing into his hands.
“This isn’t real. I am sane.”
Vergangene laughed, mocking, as the priest arrived and stood beyond the fallen wall. The Geborene bowed his head in prayer and Zukunft screamed, writhing on the floor. Her flesh bulged and rippled as something within fought to claw its way free.
She’ll die now. Her Reflection will win.
There was nothing he could do. He was dying, his guts run through with steel and left to rot. He was helpless.
A broken old man.
Gritting his teeth, Bedeckt stood. He moved to stand between Zukunft and Vergangene. The Geborene priest, on the far side of the Reflection, stuttered to a stop.
“You can’t have her,” Bedeckt told them.
“You can’t stop him,” Vergangene said.
Him.
Not us?
Not me?
“This is all wrong,” said Bedeckt.
The fire in the sky raged on, the dragon swooping in low passes to incinerate souls and then disappearing back into the flaming clouds. The dead, moving and still, littered the ground in uncountable thousands. An army of Exorcised demons stood behind the Geborene priest, awaiting his command. Waiting for him to topple over the Pinnacle.
This was too much. There was no winning here, no way out.
Did I hallucinate all of this?
Bedeckt didn’t know.
They’re trying to make you doubt yourself.
It wouldn’t work. He knew who he was. He knew what he was.
This was wrong. All of it. Reality shouldn’t be like this. Zukunft shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t die like this because she accidentally pushed her little sister into a mirror.
Bedeckt stood tall. Gods, he wished he had his axe, if just to lean on.
“This is wrong,” he said. “This is all wrong.” Bedeckt raised his hands to the sky and screamed, “I AM SANE!”
***
Stehlen’s vicious little knife came up and Wichtig knew he was dead. She spun it past him, slicing his ear. But you don’t dedicate your life to being the Greatest Swordsman in the World and not have muscle memory written so deep your brain is a chunk of clay that gets in the way. His body knew what he didn’t. In throwing that knife, Stehlen left herself vulnerable. His body moved without him, taking advantage of her distraction. He drove his sword up and into her. His clay brain only caught up after, once it was too late.
Wichtig saw six inches of the tip of his sword sticking from between her throat and clavicle. He wanted to pull the sword away, to undo what he’d done. He wanted to say sorry.
I killed her. That shouldn’t have happened.
The deadliest woman he ever met, Stehlen was too damned mean to die. When she pulled that knife he knew it was the end, and then she threw it at Lebendig. Stehlen killed her lover instead of killing him. What did that mean?
Stehlen leaned against him and he took her weight. She opened her mouth and drooled blood, trying to speak. No doubt trying to tell him how much she was going to hurt him for this.
Tears ran from his eyes and he tried to blink them away but they kept coming.
“No,” he said. “I…I didn’t mean to…”
If he removed the sword…if he left it there… He didn’t know what to do.
Stehlen leaned her head on his shoulder, and he felt her legs give. He held her upright. She was small, but gods was she solid; a tight wound bundle of iron muscle. He held her and cried into the stink of her tangled hair.
Just below his navel, Wichtig felt the prick of a knife.
She’ll kill me now. She’d make sure he died first so he served her in the Afterdeath and not the other way around. He wanted to laugh. Tricky bitch.
He held her, waiting for the pain. He reached up to stroke her hair and got his half-hand caught in the matted chaos.
Wichtig felt her draw a shuddering breath and knew it was her last. He felt her lips on his ear.
“I’ll be waiting,” she said.
“I didn’t want to kill Lebendig,” he said, but Stehlen was dead.
Wichtig held tight the emptiness of her.
Sprawled on the ground, bleeding from a score of wounds, Bedeckt ranted and raved. He was lost to madness. A girl—a pretty little thing—clung to him like he might save her from drowning. Or insanity.
Stehlen wanted to kill me because I killed her lover.
Was it possible Lebendig didn’t betray Stehlen when they returned to the world of the living? Did Lebendig choose to stay with the woman who killed her?
Why would she do that?
Once again gripping his sword, he eased it from Stehlen and lowered her to the ground. Yellowy eyes stared through him, gutted of rage and hatred. He very much doubted that was the case.
I killed her lover.