The Mirror's Truth (Manifest Delusions #2)

“The mirror ever lies,” said Bedeckt. “And I am not some foolish little girl.”


“You’re a foolish old man.”

“I won’t let you hurt her.”

Vergangene smirked. “Really? She’s on your list now?” Those empty eyes knew him. “She’ll get you killed. Turn back. Ride for Abgeleitete Leute. There’s a Geisteskranken there who can save you. You don’t have to die.”

“More lies,” said Bedeckt, his heart thumping in his chest. I don’t want to die. Leave this delusional girl and ride east. Don’t be a fool. “You want me to abandon her.”

“Look in the mirror,” said Vergangene, pushing it closer. “I’ll show him to you. I’ll show you exactly where he is. I’ll show you the scene where you arrive, at the edge of death. I’ll show you leaving, whole and alive, free to continue doing what you do.”

She’s lying. But what if she wasn’t? He didn’t want to return to the Afterdeath. Not now, not ever. How long will you last in the Afterdeath before someone kills you there? Whatever lay beyond the Afterdeath scared him even more than the Afterdeath. “Perhaps I’ll take this mirror east with me,” he said, watching for her reaction.

Vergangene shrugged, unconcerned. “I am in whatever mirror my sister carries.”

“If I go east, if I save myself…”

She leaned close, watching him with expectant eyes. “Yes?”

“What happens to…” He wanted to ask about Morgen, about his plan to undo the damage he’d so carelessly done the child. “What happens to my friends?”

“Men like you have no friends. You abandoned them in the Afterdeath.” She barked a mocking laugh of derision. “You pretend sanity, but you are deluded in the extreme.”

“Guilt is for fools.”

“Your words,” she said, “not mine.”

He glanced away, staring into the fire, watching tendrils of flame. “And I am sane.”

“How many of your choices have been made because of the guilt you pretend not to feel?” she asked.

“Horse shite,” he said, fidgeting.

“You let Zukunft distract you on the merest chance you might save the boy and his family. Why?”

“It was the only way—”

“You decided that. You never actually asked.”

She examined him, eyes dancing and flickering like the fire they no longer reflected.

She’s looking for weakness.

“Why did you try and save Morgen from the Slaver?” Vergangene asked.

Bedeckt grunted a sour laugh. “Look how that turned out. The wee shite wants me dead.”

“Only because you don’t fit in to his nice, neat world,” she said. “You told Wichtig you would use your power over Morgen to make you both powerful and wealthy. But you didn’t. You didn’t even try. Instead you fled.” She sat back, sucking at her teeth. “Guilt,” she said.

“It was a shite plan,” said Bedeckt. “It wouldn’t have worked. He’s a god.”

“Even gods are bound by rules,” she said, and he knew she was right. “It’s time to be the man you pretend to be.” Her eyes caught the fire, sparked to life, became nuggets of molten metal. “Be the cold and uncaring killer. Abandon my sister. Save yourself.”

“The mirror ever—”

“Want to see your death?” she asked. “You can’t save your friends. Something cold and reptilian and evil follows them, far above in the sky. It’s waiting for them to find you.” Her eyes burned holes in him. “Your finding your friends may well be what kills them.”

“May well be? You sound less than sure.”

“Prophecy is hypocrisy,” she said. “This thing in the sky, it will end you forever. It will incinerate your soul. Nothing will survive to see the Afterdeath.”

That didn’t sound as bad as she probably meant it to. Whatever lay beyond the Afterdeath scared the hells out of Bedeckt, but nothing? It was difficult to be afraid of nothing. Sitting here, guts skewered, drowning in his own rot, nothing sounded pretty damned good. Nothing sounded peaceful.

Bedeckt closed his eyes, watching the Reflection through narrow slits. She’s trying to manipulate you. That ancient rage bubbled, hidden beneath a calm fa?ade. Everyone and their gods-damned delusions wants a piece of Bedeckt Imblut. He’d give them a piece, see if they enjoyed the flavour of rot and death.

“I’m not staying with Zukunft to save her,” Bedeckt said, grinning at the little girl. Any real child would run screaming. The fact she didn’t reminded him who and what she was. “I don’t care what happens to your sister. My list only says I won’t harm her. And I’m not saving Wichtig and Stehlen out of guilt. I need of them. I have plans beyond—”

“Your plans are shite, old man,” said Vergangene, sounding like Stehlen. “You should know that by now.” She turned, dipping her feet into the mirror’s surface as if it were a puddle. “You doom yourself.” She slipped into the mirror, somehow, impossibly, fitting.

With one foot Bedeckt flipped the mirror upside down.

“One of the most powerful Geisteskranken I ever met,” said Vergangene, voice muffled, “didn’t even know he was a Geisteskranken.”

“Most Geisteskranken don’t realize they’re insane,” said Bedeckt.

Michael R. Fletcher's books