Swarm and Steel, page 37
Though the idea lurked for decades, growing stronger with the passing of each and every year, she knew at that moment what her sister really was: A Fragment. Everything made sense. Her memories of lying in that cot alone, feverish and mad. The way her sister slowly replaced her, slowly pushed her out of her own life. She knew why she felt like she’d been unravelling for years.
And she knew what happened when a Fragment no longer needed the original.
Halber Tod made so much sense. Everything she ever worked for was rot. If her Fragment could fool her for centuries and then take it all away, nothing mattered. Not the Täuschung, and not Wahrergott.
Somehow, waking in the desert and finding Jateko returned her purpose. The thought of killing the Fragment who stole her life and ending the evil religion they created gave her the will to go on.
Is it really nothing more than vengeance which has kept me moving all this time? She hated the idea. That was something the old Zerfall would have been quite comfortable with.
I deserve everything I have suffered and a thousand times worse.
Jateko’s corpse, limp and flopping, head bouncing off every uneven stone, rolled against her as Gedankenlos turned another corner.
I’m sorry. She wanted to pull herself apart, be nothing. She couldn’t take the sight, the reminder of what she did to the boy. I should have left you in the desert. Once I realized how useful you’d be … once I understood how you felt about me … I couldn’t let go. I was selfish.
Her own skull struck a rock jutting from the floor with a hollow pock. She felt nothing.
[I don’t …]
What? Where had that thought come from? Zerfall turned her head to examine Jateko. Did the damage to his skull look a little less severe? Was he healing even from these grievous wounds? She wasn’t sure; the Basamortuan looked very dead, his limbs shattered, his skull crumpled.
Gedankenlos stopped and stood listening, still gripping Zerfall and Jateko by the ankles. “Did you hear something?” he asked.
“Just my head bouncing off these stones,” said Zerfall.
He glanced at her over his shoulder before shrugging and continuing on his way.
Zerfall reached out with her stump to nudge Jateko’s corpse. He didn’t react, showed no signs of life. If he were alive, I’d hear his thoughts. She wanted to try whispering to him but didn’t dare lest she alert the Captain.
Gedankenlos approached a door, larger and more ornate than the rest, heavy oak finished in intricately worked iron that had long ago rusted red. He stood for a moment gripping the two corpses, scowling at the door as if trying to make up his mind about something. Finally, he leaned forward and knocked by banging his forehead against the door.
Zerfall heard a muffled “Enter” from within and watched as Gedankenlos shoved at the door with his forehead. When it failed to open, he growled in frustration and dropped Jateko’s ankle to free a hand with which to open the door. After swinging the door open, he bent to retrieve the ankle and dragged the two of them into the room. He halted once he cleared the doorway as if awaiting permission to enter further.
Within, a woman waited.
Zerfall examined her. Thick dark hair fell about slim shoulders in waves. Her dark eyes were bright with intelligence and curiosity. The woman’s body, slim and yet curvy, reminded Zerfall of her own when she first woke in that puke-filled alley.
This what I looked like when alive.
Not quite. Something was missing. There was a softness to this woman Zerfall never possessed.
“Is he leaking blood all over my floor?” the woman asked.
“A little,” admitted Gedankenlos. “He’s not bleeding too much now that he’s—” He swallowed.
“That he’s what?”
“Well, dead.”
“Did you bring me two gods-damned corpses?” the woman demanded petulantly.
PHARISÄER SCOWLED AT CAPTAIN Gedankenlos, waiting. “Well?”
“Yes,” he answered, standing at the entrance to her chambers like an idiot. “But—”
“Did I not say I wanted the Basamortuan alive?”
“Starke killed him. Crushed his head with that ridiculous morningstar.”
“He’ll rot in Swarm for this,” she swore.
“Already done,” said Gedankenlos.
“Is that …” she gestured at the sword stuck awkwardly in his belt. “Is that her … my … Blutblüte?”
Gedankenlos nodded. “The Basamortuan had it.”
When he started forward, she waved him to a stop. Idiot. “Don’t track blood in here. Leave the savage by the door. The other one. Is it alive?”
“Kind of,” he answered, looking like he wanted to say more.
“Is it broken? Helpless?”
He nodded without answering.
“Bring it here.”
Releasing the Basamortuan’s ankle, Gedankenlos dragged the desiccated corpse into Pharisäer’s chambers. Tattered shreds of flesh fell off it and stuck to the carpet and it left behind a clump of dark hair attached to a patch of scalp. What a mess. She decided it didn’t matter. Once she was real she’d move out of this dilapidated dump.
Snapping her fingers, Pharisäer held out her hand. “Give me the sword.”
Still dragging the other corpse, Gedankenlos drew Blutblüte from his belt as he approached, spun the weapon and handed it to her hilt first. Releasing the corpse, he retreated without turning his back on her.
What’s he so afraid of? Does he think I’ll kill him?
Which of course was what she planned on doing, just not yet. If this husk at her feet was all that remained of Zerfall, soon Pharisäer would be the real Zerfall. And Gedankenlos was the last living soul who might know the truth.
“I’m not going to kill you,” she told the Captain. “You are far too useful.” And dangerous. I’ll wait until your guard is down.
Gedankenlos blinked, looking surprised like the thought hadn’t occurred to him, and backed farther away.
He wasn’t that good an actor. Something else must have rattled him.
The corpse at Pharisäer’s feet levered itself upright on an arm ending in a ragged stump and Pharisäer’s gaze darted to the hand on the desk. It’s her. It must be her.
The corpse drew a slow and strangely intentional breath. “I am Zerfall,” it said. “Give me my sword.”
Pharisäer retreated before the vehemence, the barely controlled rage. Empty sockets, pits of soulless black, saw her. Saw through her. She knows me. Fear shivered through Pharisäer. Hölle had been nothing. Zerfall was everything. This was the founder of the Täuschung. This was the woman whose madness birthed a hell and gave life to a god. And I brought her here. What the hells had she been thinking?
She glanced at Gedankenlos and he swallowed and backed toward the door sputtering, “Maybe I should …”
This garbage is nothing to me! I will be Zerfall. “Captain,” she said, feigning casual ease. “I have changed my mind.” She pointed at the corpse struggling to push itself into a sitting position. “Break it apart. Render it utterly helpless.”
Gedankenlos stopped, stood rooted, attention darting between Pharisäer and the living corpse at her feet.
“I am Zerfall,” said the corpse, louder this time.
Gedankenlos licked his lips. “I think I shall return later,” he said, bowing in their direction. “Whoever remains I shall serve.”
“Look at her,” snapped Pharisäer. “She can’t even sit up. Do as I command!”
Zerfall pushed herself to her feet, stood lilting at an awkward angle. She ignored Gedankenlos, attention locked on Pharisäer. She held out her right hand. “Give. Me. My. Sword.”
Over Zerfall’s shoulder Pharisäer saw the Captain hesitate and take a tentative step in her direction, reaching for his own blade.
Zerfall turned to glare at him. “I am Zerfall. I am four hundred years old. The One True God watches over me. This …” She nodded at Pharisäer. “This shadow is nothing.”
Pharisäer watched, helpless, as Gedankenlos fled, leaving them alone in the room. I’m no shadow. I will be the real Zerfall.
Her words felt hollow. She could never be this woman.
ZERFALL WATCHED GEDANKENLOS FLEE the room. That’s what the loyalty of a coward is worth.
She wanted to lie down and await the end. She wanted to scream and rage.
She wanted her sword.
Zerfall turned to face Pharisäer. “Just us, Fragment.” Again she held out her open hand. “Give me the sword, and I’ll let you leave.” For an instant she thought the woman would hand it over and then those dark eyes hardened.
Pharisäer backed away, lifting the sword into something close to a guard position. “You can barely stand. I’m going to hack you apart.” She grinned bright teeth, waving the sword in front of her.
“You’re afraid,” said Zerfall, limping one small step toward Pharisäer, dragging her shattered ankle across the rough stone of the floor. “You’re afraid I’m going to take it all away.”
Pharisäer threatened with the sword but retreated, eyes darting. “I’m not afraid—”
“You’re looking for a way out.” Zerfall shuffled to position herself between Pharisäer and the door. “But you’re not leaving with my sword.” She had no plan. Everything she thought she knew had fallen apart. But she couldn’t let Blutblüte go, couldn’t allow Swarm to escape. As long as she held the sword she could fool herself there was some chance at ending Swarm and bringing down this sick religion she created.
Pharisäer leapt forward, stabbing.
Zerfall batted the sword away, smacking the flat of the blade with the palm of her hand.
“You telegraphed your attack,” she said, shuffling after the once again retreating woman. “Your shoulders tensed. I saw it in your eyes.” Zerfall grinned. “What do you see in my eyes?”
Again Pharisäer stabbed clumsily, telegraphing the attack, and again Zerfall knocked it aside.
“You really must do better—”
Pharisäer screamed and hacked at Zerfall, flailing with the sword. The first swing crashed into her chest, shattering ribs and spinning her off balance. The second fractured her hip and dropped her to the ground. Still screaming, Pharisäer hacked at Zerfall, bashing as much as cutting. Bones broke and thin flesh tore. Zerfall fought to fend away the attacks, but Pharisäer, while not as strong as Zerfall had once been, was far stronger than the desiccated corpse she now was. A wild swing shattered the bones in Zerfall’s right arm and she sagged to the floor.
Pharisäer backed away, gasping, sucking in deep breaths.
“I’m done,” Zerfall whispered to the floor, lungs empty of air. “Enough. Jateko’s dead. I can’t do this any more.” But it was a lie. Now that she lay here, broken and helpless, facing the end, she didn’t want to die. Not yet. Not like this. Not at the hands of this Fragment.
“What are you mumbling about?” Pharisäer demanded between breaths.
Zerfall used her stump arm to roll herself onto her back. “That’s my sword,” she said. Her right wrist had broken and a sharp shard of bone poked through the flesh. A weapon, all she had. All I need. Maybe, if she lured the Fragment close enough, this might not be the end.
“Mine now,” said the woman, grinning. There was something wrong with that vicious smile; doubt ate at its corners.
“You’re nothing.” said Zerfall, hoping to provoke Pharisäer. “Fragment,” she sneered. If I can kill her, I can call that Captain back into the room. He’ll do as I command. She didn’t know what she’d command him to do, but anything was better than dying like this. “Coward.”
“Coward?” Pharisäer paced around to Zerfall’s legs and stomped on the remaining foot, shattering the small bones. “Coward?” She lifted her foot and brought it down on Zerfall’s shin and it snapped with an arid crack. “Why should I fear you?” She stomped on Zerfall’s other shin, breaking it too. “What will you do to me?” It took several attempts, but finally she managed to crush Zerfall’s right knee to dust and splintered fragments of bone.
Zerfall watched, preparing to lunge forward should Pharisäer move within reach. A little closer. “Hölle was nothing, a figment of my imagination. You are even less, the dream of a dream.”
The woman lifted her foot preparing to crush Zerfall’s other knee, and then stopped. She was panting, breathing hard from the effort. “I am nothing? Look at you! A broken corpse. Helpless. Powerless.” She stomped on Zerfall’s chest, snapping several ribs. Leaning down she pushed Blutblüte’s point against Zerfall’s throat parting dry flesh in a bloodless wound. “It’s you who are nothing. In a moment I will be everything.”
Zerfall stabbed her in the side, driving the sharp shard of bone into the soft flesh beneath her ribs. Pharisäer screamed and threw herself backward, scrabbling and kicking to put distance between herself and Zerfall. A flailing foot struck Zerfall’s arm, shattering the elbow joint.
Pharisäer rolled to her feet with a groan of agony, clutching her side, blood leaking between her fingers. She laughed through gritted teeth, a choked sob of pain and dark humour. “You tricky bitch.”
The wound wasn’t nearly deep enough to kill. What little hope Zerfall had died and she flopped back to the ground. She lay, head turned to one side and watched the blood pooling around Jateko’s battered corpse.
Pharisäer laughed and shook her head in amazement. “You killed yourself, you know. You and Hölle. You stabbed her, and she sent Aas to kill you. Your religion will die with you. I don’t care about the Täuschung or your helpless One True Git.” She shook her head, lips puckered in disgust. “What a pointless faith.”
Zerfall wanted to feel something at that but couldn’t. It wasn’t her religion either. Täuschung was the old Zerfall’s dream. If Pharisäer destroyed the religion to spite Zerfall could she count that as a victory? That had been her goal after all. Except if the Fragment was anything like the woman Zerfall had been she wouldn’t end the Täuschung. Religion was too useful.
“You’re done,” said Pharisäer. “I’m going to send you to Swarm. Your church is in disarray. Without leadership it will fade to nothing. I’ve destroyed everything you ever worked for. You have nothing left.”
Zerfall watched as the woman limped circles around her, careful to stay out of reach, Blutblüte hanging forgotten in her fist. “Who are you trying to convince?” And then she laughed, her first real amusement in what seemed like forever. “You’re trying to manipulate me, to break me down. You seek to crush my spirit. Is that what you did to Hölle?” She waved the woman to silence. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”
Pharisäer seemed to remember Blutblüte and hefted the weapon with a triumphant gleam in her eye. “I don’t need to destroy what you are, you’ve already done that.” Pointing the sword at Zerfall’s chest, she approached. “All I need to do is end you.”
Zerfall wanted to lie back and await the end. She wanted to surrender all she was. She couldn’t. She swore to end Swarm and she would fight to do that until the very end. She struggled to get the desiccated remains of an arm under her and braced herself, ready to again lunge at Pharisäer. It was hopeless, but she had to try. Give the old Zerfall credit for one thing, there was no quit in her. Maybe, if she tripped the woman up, toppled her to the ground, she could choke her or smash her unconscious. She laughed at the thought of Pharisäer waking in an alley, her skull smashed, with no recollection of who she was or how she got there.
Pharisäer screamed “Why are you laughing!”
“I’m not Hölle. You can’t break me.”
Pharisäer drove Blutblüte toward her heart.
TWENTY-TWO
A wise man would rather suffer defeat today than win years from now.
—Basamortuan Proverb
DARKNESS.
Stuttering light.
Darkness.
Vision flickered in and out of focus, a bloody smear of light and a stone floor canting at an odd angle. Some woman, beautiful and lithe, something like the way Zerfall used to look when Jateko first met her, paced around a crumpled pile of garbage. She held a sword in her hand and snarled at the heap on the floor.
Darkness.
What happened?
Some Dysmorphic caved your skull in.
Oh. Right. He had a dim memory of facing several Geisteskranken but couldn’t remember how it ended.
Not well, someone told him.
He groaned in pain as he tried to stretch out a leg.
Quiet, someone else said. If Pharisäer hears you, we’re dead.
Pharisäer?
Hölle’s Fragment.
For a moment the word was meaningless city-states babble. Right, a manifestation of her split personality.
I can’t believe you survived that. This time Jateko recognized the voice as Aas’.
I have the health and strength of over a dozen people, Jateko explained. I heal quickly. His entire body screamed in agony at the damage it suffered. I think I need more souls.
You better heal faster, said Aas. Pharisäer’s getting angry.
Jateko cracked open an eye and tried to blink away the haze of blood washing his vision in a sanguine stain. The pile of refuse at Pharisäer’s feet was Zerfall, he realized. He watched, helpless, as Pharisäer stepped forward and brought her foot down on Zerfall’s foot. He heard bones snap and break.
Leave her alone! He tried to push himself upright, but his arm had been shattered and his hand slid on the blood-slicked stone beneath him.
Not yet, said Aas. Don’t give yourself away until you’re ready to fight.
I have to save her. I have to try.
If you move before you’re ready, you’ll die with her.
Jateko tried to lift his head to better see, but his body ignored his commands. I’d rather die trying than do nothing.
Aas is right, said Abiega. Don’t spoil your chance at saving her with some foolish display of ill-thought heroism.
Cursing, Jateko realized they were right. He couldn’t sit much less stand and fight. He could do nothing to help her now. He heard Zerfall taunt Pharisäer and watched as Pharisäer stomped more of her bones to dust.
