“Not was,” he said. “I am his friend. I’ll see him again in the Afterdeath.” He winked, feeling more and more like himself. “Though hopefully not too soon.”
“I don’t think so,” said Zukunft. “His madness made the world sane, if only for a moment. He died in a sane world. I don’t think there is an Afterdeath in that world.”
She mirrored his own thoughts, but hearing them said aloud made them seem, well, mad. Could it be true, was sanity Bedeckt’s delusion? He thought about the Therianthrope tumbling from the sky, human and unable to become the dragon she thought she was.
Sanity from madness? Unlikely.
Wichtig turned away, unable to face the certainty in Zukunft’s eyes.
Sanity and sense were delusions, and dangerous delusions at that. His own delusions were all that made him what he was, all that stood between him and normality. And that—the thought of being common—scared Wichtig more than anything.
He glanced at Stehlen, for the first time noticing the pommel of a sword sticking up past her shoulder.
My second sword.
She brought his sword, carried it all the way from the Gottlos Garrison.
But why? Had she intended on returning it, or had she planned on mocking him with the fact she robbed him blind? Again.
Mockery, no doubt. And yet he knew she would have returned the sword. It was part of how she won.
Wichtig looked about the farmhouse, spotting Stehlen’s sword on the floor, one of her knives in Opferlamm and another in Lebendig’s throat. “Keep the sword,” he told her corpse. “You’ll need it where you’re going.”
And I killed her.
He dragged a length of horse innards from his shoulder and dropped it at his feet. Horses. Where was Opferlamm’s? Wichtig couldn’t see the beast anywhere. He stifled a laugh. Bedeckt’s horse must have landed on it.
Guess I’ll be walking.
He remembered his dream of the old man, walking out of the mountains and understood.
“I’ll never ride again,” he said, turning to again face Zukunft.
“Pardon?”
“I hate horses. Always have. From now on I walk.” The damned things always get killed or stolen anyway. Or dropped on you by a dragon.
It was all a lie but he couldn’t tell this beautiful woman he was punishing himself for killing his friend. She’d look at him like he was weak and he couldn’t have that.
This is how I will honour Stehlen.
Someday far from now, when he once again met Stehlen, she would see the sacrifices he made for her and not kill him.
Slim rutting chance of that.
He watched Zukunft bend to kiss Bedeckt on the forehead and then rise to stand.
“When we were back in the Afterdeath—before we escaped—my sister promised she’d lead Bedeckt to a means of stopping Morgen.”
Wichtig glanced at his friend’s corpse. “I guess she lied.”
“No,” said Zukunft. “At least not completely. “I think she manipulated everyone. I think she got exactly what she wanted.”
“How does that help Bedeckt? He’s still dead. And Morgen—”
“Stehlen will blame Morgen for all of this. She’ll see it as a theft.”
No one steals from Stehlen. The little shite was as good as dead. “Oh.”
Zukunft looked at everything like she couldn’t believe she was here, couldn’t believe she survived.
“Shite,” said Wichtig, as his gaze fell upon the corpse of his oldest friend.
“What’s wrong?” Zukunft asked.
“A god promised if I saved Bedeckt’s life he’d heal my scars, make me beautiful again.”
She tilted her head, made a show of examining his face. “You aren’t that bad. You’re still handsome. Just…rugged. Some women like that.”
She wants me. Whatever Bedeckt did to reality, things were returning to normal. I am Wichtig Lügner. “Do they indeed?” He met those green eyes with a flat grey gaze and pushed his Gefahrgeist power against her. She smiled, nervous, and licked her lips. She didn’t look away and he felt a little more of the old Wichtig return.
Morgen and Nacht. What should he do about the Geborene godling and his damned Reflection? Could he force one of them to make him beautiful again? While Nacht promised to heal his wounds, return the missing fingers, Morgen promised wealth and fame. He wanted all of it.
If I was rich, I could return home to my wife and son.
If he did, would he get Fluch killed like he got Opferlamm killed? He glanced at his apprentice’s corpse, saw eyes that would never age, never know love or pain or happiness. ‘I am your only friend,’ he remembered telling her. ‘I will look out for you. I will keep you alive until you are able to do that on your own.’ He lied or failed and didn’t like what either said about him. I can’t fail Fluch like that.
He turned back to Zukunft.
Remember the dream. Remember the old man. The man’s scars matched Wichtig’s perfectly. He had not looked like a man carrying a great deal of wealth. In fact, the old man hadn’t looked much like he gave a shite about money at all.