“Drache,” said Failure. “You must leave utter ruin in your path.” He knew she would no matter what he said. Granting her permission made it seem like it was his idea, like she owed him for his endorsement of her nature. “But you must not slay Bedeckt.” Would she even be able to tell who she was killing from above? Best to be safe. “When you find your quarry, Erdbehüter and Ungeist shall do the killing.” She nodded unhappy agreement but he left her no choice. Another thought occurred to Failure. If Ungeist freed Bedeckt’s inner demons, was that the same as killing him? Would Failure still be able to later kill Ungeist to gain control over the old warrior and in turn Morgen? “Erdbehüter, you shall kill Bedeckt. Ungeist is only to assist should you fail.”
“I shall not fail,” she said, glaring venomous hatred in Ungeist’s direction. Failure didn’t care what history the two shared, as long as they obeyed.
Ungeist looked ready to argue and Failure silenced him with a look. “These are the commands of your god.”
All bowed their heads in acceptance.
“You three approach the Pinnacle. You are unstable. Madness might take you at any time.” Three sets of eyes met his and he left them no room to disagree. “But it won’t. Your service to Morgen protects you. As long as you do our god’s will, you are safe. Fail him in any way, disobey my—his—commands in the slightest, and that protection shall end.”
He owned them. It was easy, far easier than when he was alive. My Gefahrgeist power grows.
When whoever survived returned to Selbsthass, it would be time to turn his attention to Konig. The man had to fall so Failure could replace him, become one again real. Until then, the pathetic wretch was useful. If things went wrong, Konig would be blamed. And Failure still needed him to manipulate physical reality.
The Theocrat herded the Geisteskranken from the room, leaving Failure alone, trapped in his mirror.
Even if the three Geisteskranken failed to kill their prey, it would be no great feat to turn Morgen against the Theocrat.
My prison is my armour.
Morgen would assume Failure had no influence beyond his cage and believe Konig was to blame.
But there are many kinds of influence.
CHAPTER SEVEN
From the first time you see your Reflection fail to mimic your actions to the moment you are dragged screaming into the mirror, you shall know no moment of peace.
—Im Spiegel, Mirrorist
Bedeckt and Zukunft claimed a table in the Leichtes Haus tavern in Selbsthass. Where Stehlen would have sat across from him so she could watch his back, Zukunft sat beside him. She even shuffled her chair a little closer and he felt the heat of her through his arm. If he moved away she’d ask why and so he stayed, uncomfortable and sweating even though it wasn’t particularly warm.
Zukunft ignored him. Apparently unaware of his discomfort, she sat hunched over the mirror Bedeckt purchased. She’d also bought a new shirt and dress more fitting to the cool weather and free of blood. Both were the same green as the dress she wore in the Afterdeath.
“Do you see them?” asked Bedeckt.
“Shush.”
When he sent Wichtig and Stehlen away, hoping to make good his escape of the Afterdeath, he told them to meet him here, in this tavern assuming its counterpart existed in the Afterdeath. It was the only one in Selbsthass he knew the name of. If Morgen was going to send the two after Bedeckt, this was where he would most likely intercept them. Counting on the insane to be predictable is crazy.
Knowing when and where the two came through from the Afterdeath wasn’t critical to Bedeckt’s plan, but more information was always better than less.
If they don’t come through here, you’ll never know if they’re coming after you.
“Found them,” said Zukunft, peering into the mirror. “They’ll be here tomorrow.”
Bedeckt grinned satisfaction and broken teeth. He couldn’t have planned it better. Leaning closer, he glanced over Zukunft’s shoulder. Twisted shapes and colours swirled in the mirror and he saw nothing of use. “Looks like someone shat bloody diarrhoea in a whirlpool,” he said.
Zukunft snorted. “I only see what she wants me to see.”
Again this mysterious she. Bedeckt decided not to ask. She wouldn’t tell him anyway. But it didn’t bode well that the Mirrorist thought there was someone else in the mirror who controlled what she saw. “Will she let me see what she’s showing you?”
Zukunft gnawed on her bottom lip and glanced at Bedeckt. “I’ll ask.”
She said nothing and Bedeckt waited as she gazed into her mirror.
“Is he nice?” she said, darting another glance at Bedeckt. She laughed and returned her attention to the mirror. “No, I don’t think so.”
While she stared at the mirror, listening intently to something he couldn’t hear, Bedeckt ordered another pint, his fourth. Ale in the Afterdeath never tasted this good. Zukunft’s first pint remained untouched. The thought of letting it go to waste bothered him.
“Do I what?” Zukunft asked the mirror, sounding surprised. “No. Well look at him. He’s old.”
“Thanks,” said Bedeckt.
“He reminds me of…no, I know he was never like that. More like what Daddy could have been.”
Daddy? Shite, no. “Never mind,” said Bedeckt. “I don’t need to see the mirror.”
Zukunft turned the mirror so Bedeckt could better see its surface. “She says she has something to show you.”
“Why?”
“I think it’s a test,” said Zukunft.