Swarm and Steel, page 31
Shoulders set, Pharisäer marched from the room. “You backed the wrong side,” she hissed as she stalked past Aas, slamming the door behind her.
{She’s right. Hölle is falling apart. I don’t want to go to Swarm. No, I have my puppet, my escape—}
“Puppet?” asked Hölle.
“It’s nothing.” {Hexenwerk will save me.}
She glared at him. “You’re dripping on my floor.”
Aas glanced guiltily at his hand, realizing the makeshift bandage was soaked through with blood. “Cut myself.” {Don’t ask. Don’t ask about Hexenwerk.}
Hölle shook her head in disgust. “I don’t care about some sick puppet. I need you here and now.”
{She needs me?} “I serve at your command.”
“I need you,” she yelled, advancing, fists clenched in rage, “because you failed me!”
{Failed?} Aas retreated before her anger. “No, I’ve done everything you asked.” {I even tried to kill Pharisäer.}
Turning, Hölle snatched Zerfall’s hand from where it lay on the desk, brandishing it like a weapon. Aas thought she would slap him with it. “She’s alive. Zerfall is—” she stopped, blinking at the hand. “It’s warm.”
“That’s impossible,” said Aas. Terrified, he babbled. “She was already dying when I found her. I shot her in the gut. The arrow was barbed, dripping in Düster venom. I left her to suffer, as you commanded. I—”
“It’s my fault?” Hölle demanded.
{Yes. You should have just told me to kill her.} “No, of course not. I just—”
“I didn’t tell you to leave her to suffer, I told you to make sure she suffered. Fool! This isn’t my fault.”
{Nothing ever is.}
“What the hell does that mean?” Tossing the hand back on the desk where it landed palm up, she again advanced on Aas.
Shadows cavorted in response to her mood and once again Aas caught glimpses of an eternal nothing populated by millions of tortured souls. Humanity as its own hell.
“I’m agreeing,” he said lamely. {Will she believe—}
“You think I’m an idiot?”
“No.” {But you flee responsibility like a child!}
Her breath caught and for an instant he thought she would launch herself at him in a snarling attack. {Do I kill her if she does?}
Hölle’s hands dropped to her side, and she regarded him with calm eyes a thousand times more frightening than her rage. “You failed me, but I will give you one chance to make this right. Find Zerfall. Kill her. Bring me her head.”
{She’s alive? My love, she’s really alive?} “Of course.”
“She’s a Gefahrgeist. She’s incapable of love. She used you.”
{She thinks I don’t know that? Fool—} Seeing Hölle’s eyes flash with anger Aas clamped down on the thought. “I’ll kill her.” {I did it once, I can do it again.} He saw her look of disgust. “I’ll bring you her head.” {Why can’t she see beyond the surface? Why can’t she see in me what Zerfall saw?)
“Zerfall saw nothing I don’t see,” said Hölle. “Get out.”
Aas fled, allowing terror to scramble his thoughts. Hölle already heard more than he liked. He hated that she knew of Hexenwerk. Not that she cared.
Did she understand that when he thought, I did it once, I can do it again, it wasn’t a statement of fact? He was trying to convince himself.
If she knew, she’d have killed me already.
Aas strode the halls of the Täuschung church, leaving a trail of dripped blood. He had to get outside. He had to twist, to become the condor he was meant to be. The need drove him forward, relentless. The open sky was freedom, escape. He was choking in here, he couldn’t breathe.
Zerfall is alive. Gods, she’d kill him for what he did to her. An eternity in Swarm would be better than suffering her vengeance. I have to get out of here. Where? He didn’t know. Anywhere but here. All the petty shite going on between Hölle and Pharisäer ceased to matter. They were nothing. Zerfall. She’s alive. I tried to kill her, and I failed, and now she’s coming back. She was death. She’d kill them all, bring the world down around them. He needed to cash in his accounts and get the hells out of Geld before Zerfall found him. The Gezackt Mountains. Maybe he’d hide there. Maybe that was far enough.
Maybe it was time to see what was on the other side of the mountains.
He stepped into the same courtyard he stood in the last time Hölle sent him to kill Zerfall. The yard was empty. The Täuschung compound had been strangely devoid of its deranged priests for the last week. Aas fingered Hexenwerk, hidden deep in a pocket. The urge to twist grew, tugging at his thoughts, distracting.
He grinned, face tight. He’d been here in this mad city of greed and avarice for too long.
First, however, he needed to collect his bow and condor-fletched, Düster-poisoned arrows. And then there was the small library of rare books he treasured. He hated to leave those behind.
Aas scowled. When had he begun collecting possessions? Prior to coming to Geld and joining the Täuschung, he never stayed in one place long enough to accrue belongings. He felt dirty, soiled. Had Geld’s obsession with money infected him?
I should leave the books and bow behind.
Just to prove he could? That seemed foolish. He’d keep the bow.
So, to his apartments first and then to the Verzweiflung bank.
HÖLLE WATCHED AAS LEAVE. He’ll find Zerfall. He’ll kill her this time. He had to.
She felt weak, drained. The world had lost all colour. She glanced at the mirror and for an instant thought she saw through herself. Closing her eyes, she turned away. Minor hallucination, nothing more. These things happened when you were a Halluzin.
Pharisäer returned, smirking. “You know you can’t trust him,” she said, as soon as she closed the door behind her.
Hölle felt hollowed. “What would you know of trust?”
Pharisäer shrugged, approaching, but stopping beyond arm’s reach. “You underestimate him, as I did,” she warned. “He’s dangerous.”
“Of course he’s dangerous,” snapped Hölle. “He’s a killer. My killer.”
“So you’ve got everything under control then? Hmm?” Pharisäer smiled honey laced with poison.
“I … yes.”
“There’s nothing you haven’t missed?”
“Nothing. The One True God stands behind me. You could never achieve what I achieved.”
“Don’t you mean what she achieved?”
“We achieved.”
“I don’t know,” Pharisäer said, shaking her head and looking doubtful. “I can’t help but feel you’ve missed something.”
“Your attempts at manipulation smack of desperation—”
“How about her,” said Pharisäer, nodding toward Hölle’s desk.
Turning, Hölle saw Zerfall’s severed hand, palm up. The tattooed eye, open wide, stared at her.
TWO WOMEN TOWERED OVER Zerfall, staring down at her. Hölle, the Fragment she’d believed was her sister for so long, looked scared. The other woman looked exactly as Zerfall once had. They were in the chambers she and Hölle once shared.
My hand. She has my hand.
Hölle’s eyes were wide with fear and fingers hovered at her mouth as if she cowered behind them. “Can she see us?” she said.
Damned Geisteskranken. Zerfall had never been able to control what she saw through the tattooed eye.
The Fragment Zerfall long thought of as her sister looked haggard, like she hadn’t slept or eaten in weeks. Her clothes, filthy and stained, hung loose. I’m coming for you, she said. They didn’t hear her. Should have tattooed a mouth on there as well.
The one who looked like Zerfall, thick dark hair falling about her shoulders, nodded. “I think so, Hölle.” She winked at Zerfall. “Notice how the attention changes depending on who’s talking.”
Backing away, Hölle, still striking and beautiful, said, “Sister, why did you try and kill me? What did I do?”
The other looked disgusted. “You were never sisters. You’re her Fragment. You’ve been working to replace her for hundreds of years, even if neither of you realized it. Well, she knows now.”
“No. We were sisters. Once. I’m sure.”
“Stop lying.”
Hölle ignored the other, focussed on the tattooed eye. “She’s returned. She’s come to finish—” The woman grimaced, clutching her belly. “She’s come to kill me.”
“This seems like a win-win situation to me.”
“Even if you survive my death, do you think she’ll let you live?”
“The enemy of my enemy … What do you think, eh Zerfall? Shall I help you slay this pathetic manifestation?”
“You’re mad!” screamed Hölle. “This is Zerfall. She’s unstoppable!”
The lithe woman made a wet farting noise with soft, full lips. “You underestimate me at every turn. Get Blutblüte back from Aas. Give me the sword, and I’ll kill her for you.”
Tears streamed down Hölle’s round cheeks as she backed away. She stared down at Zerfall, eyes pleading. “Why did you stab me? What did I do?”
Zerfall remembered lying on that stinking cot with her sister, feverish and dying. She’d been so scared, a terrified little girl. No, you’re not real. Four hundred years was too long; her memories were so faded she could no longer discern truth from desire. She wanted company, she told herself, someone to hold her, someone to tell her it would all be fine. She wanted it so bad. And then Wahrergott, real or hallucinated she didn’t know, wrote his words in her brain with fire. Sanity seared and melted and reality ran fluid, bending to her need.
I don’t need you anymore. She remembered thinking that once before, many hundreds of years ago, when she first realized Hölle could run the Täuschung without her. She remembered that ancient jealousy. Her sister had always been better at—No! I was—
Strong arms held Zerfall cradled close and she found herself staring up at Jateko’s square jaw. She couldn’t equate what she saw to the weak-chinned, slope-shouldered boy she first met.
“You’re awake,” he said, glancing down at her with concern.
“The dead don’t sleep.”
“Whatever you were doing, you were gone.”
“I was with Hölle. In Geld.”
“We’re in Geld,” said Jateko, nodding at the surrounding buildings.
Zerfall struggled to sit forward. “I can barely move,” she said.
Jateko flashed an apologetic grimace, but she saw sadness and self-recrimination in his eyes. “It rained. You’re sodden.”
A broken corpse, Zerfall barked a harsh laugh, a cough of rot and decay. “They were talking about me.” She wanted to explain her sister who wasn’t but couldn’t. It was too painful. “Hölle, she fears me. She thinks I’ve come to kill her.”
Jateko frowned, confused. “We have.”
“Yes we have. Hölle has manifest a Fragment of her own.” She glanced at Jateko. Had he caught it, her small slip?
Jateko shrugged, unconcerned.
Zerfall watched the city slide by, the jarring grind pop click thump of Tod’s stride making it difficult to focus. Stone buildings towered overhead, signs advertising everything from clothes to food to rented companionship. Everything was for sale here.
Though the rain had ceased, few people were out on the streets and those who were huddled deep in luxurious coats.
“Is it cold?” she asked Jateko.
“I’ve been cold since we left the desert. Is the city always like this, so grey and depressing?”
“Yes.” She watched a woman in a tall and awkward hat exit a colossal structure of stone polished to a glossy finish so bright she saw her reflection within. Pillars, soaring columns of marble, lined the palatial steps leading up to monstrous doors that looked to be made of hammered bronze.
Jateko, noting her attention, stared in open amazement. “Is that a church? What gods they must worship here.”
“It’s a bank,” she said, gesturing at a sign and wondered if any of the people Jateko devoured could read. “This is the main office of the Verzweiflung Banking Conglomerate.”
“A bank.” Jateko shook his head in wonder. “I understand the word, but it makes no sense. This is still a church.”
“The Verzweiflung worship money. People store their wealth here.”
“It’s full of goats and swords and food? That explains the size.”
“Not that kind of wealth. Gold. Silver. Coins, and jewels.”
He looked doubtful. “Your bank draft, we can exchange it for wealth here?”
“I believe so. Though I’m not sure if it will work. It’s a little weathered.” She laughed, a snort of wry amusement. “As am I.”
As they reached the foot of the stairs Tod’s rear hips gave out with a loud crack and pitched them backward off his bent spine. Jateko rolled, keeping Zerfall safe in the cradle of his arms, and stood in one smooth motion. Tod lowered himself until his ravaged skull rested on the cobbled road. The ragged edges of his opened belly splayed apart like an upside-down sack thrown to the ground. A shiver ran the length of his ruined body and he was still.
“Tod?” asked Zerfall.
“He’s gone,” said Jateko, pulling her into a hug.
I don’t need him any more. The thought saddened her. Was my need all that kept Tod moving? She never gave the beast a choice, never spared his desires a thought. That’s who I am. She hated herself. I haven’t changed.
Nestled in Jateko’s arms she wished she could close her eyes, shut out the world. She’d give anything to feel the heat from his body, to bask in the warmth of another living soul. Tod, her friend, was gone. She wanted to cry but had no eyes, no tears. No release for pain. Maybe she had changed a little; the old Zerfall could never feel such emotions for another. She clung to that thought.
“There’s nothing here for us,” she said. “This was a mistake. We—” The bank doors swung open, held by a fat man in small and unadorned hat who bowed low as a gaunt and hideous man exited.
Zerfall stared up the steps at the thin man. His face hung slack and sallow, his skin puckered with thick black hairs. A black long bow and a quiver of thick-shafted black arrows hung across slim shoulders hunched against the cold. Blutblüte hung at his hip. He shuffled down the steps in fits and starts like vulture hopping from branch to branch, bulbous eyes darting. One hand was wrapped in a bulbous and bloody bandage.
When she awoke in the desert, she remembered her life, and who she’d been. She remembered Aas but hadn’t given the man much thought; there was no emotional connection to make him important, to make him worth remembering.
Seeing him now, here in Geld just a few block from the church brought back more memories. They returned in a torrential flood. She and Aas had been something like lovers, which is to say he loved her and she used him and hurt him whenever it entertained her. Her Gefahrgeist power kept him malleable, made him willing to do anything to please her, and she abused that.
I kept him around because I could hear his thoughts. He was the only person I trusted. And still she’d cut him, testing how far she could push him. She never found his limit.
He loved me. He loved her with unquestioning loyalty and she kept him distant. She felt nothing for him, had been incapable of such feeling.
Glancing again at Tod’s gutted corpse she felt Jateko’s arms around her, a distant pressure devoid of warmth, felt that dim spark buried deep in her, felt the shiver of fear at the thought of losing him. I’ve changed. But how much had she changed? Was Jateko here by choice, or did her need enslave him too?
“What is it?” Jateko asked when he noticed her focussed attention.
“That’s him,” she said, gesturing with her remaining hand. “Aas, the man who killed me. He took my hand.”
Jateko froze, shoulders and arms tense, hard like rock. He watched the black-clad man descend the steps in their direction, not walking directly toward them, but likely passing not much beyond arm’s reach.
“He looks thin and weak,” whispered Jateko.
“He’s dangerous.” She remembered the barbed agony of the arrow Aas left buried in her gut.
“He has Blutblüte, my sword.”
HE CARRIES BLUTBLÜTE? JATEKO didn’t know whether to be elated or terrified. What was it capable of? Zerfall never talked about it other than to say that Swarm, the hell of the Täuschung was somehow trapped within the blade. Could he possibly hope to defeat such a weapon?
“I need your sword,” he said, drawing his own and sliding the Swordsman’s second blade from where it hung at her side. He released Zerfall, stepped in front of her to shield her with his bulk. No one will hurt her again.
Aas stopped when he noticed Jateko’s actions. He stood watching, left arm held cradled against his chest, the hand wrapped in tattered bandages seeping blood. He showed no hint of fear, just mild curiosity.
Jateko rolled his wide shoulders, loosening them. “You hurt my friend,” he said.
“And?” asked Aas, relaxed and unconcerned.
“I’m hungry.”
The gaunt assassin leaned forward and sniffed, testing the air with a hooked nose as if that might help him make sense of Jateko’s words. “This is Geld. There are many restaurants nearby.”
Jateko advanced, lifting the matched blades, testing their balance. He felt good, strong and fast. Invincible. Cold rage, tight wound fury, bathed his thoughts bloody crimson. Killing this wretched man wasn’t enough; he must not be free to flee to Swarm or any other hell or Afterdeath. He must be mine.
Savage hunger threatened to wash away all thought. Grey clay brains. The oil slick sheen of liver. The soft squish of raw kidney. Jateko’s mouth watered. He needed it.
“I am Jateko, the All Consuming. I’m going to eat your brain.”
NINETEEN
Fear is the fulcrum.
—Versklaver Denker, Gefahrgeist Philosopher
THE TATTOOED EYE SLID closed and Pharisäer grinned madness at Hölle, eyes bright and victorious.
Fear flooded Hölle’s veins like a rush of frigid water. Had that really been Zerfall watching through that eye, or was this just another manifestation of her Halluzin power? Neither option instilled her with hope. Either Zerfall had been watching for god knew how long, or Hölle was losing control of her delusions. Both meant the end.
