Beyond Redemption (33 page)

Stich,
twisted
into thousands of deadly scorpions, scuttled over the struggling figure and the mass of writhing, biting snakes, and continued toward Morgen.

I help god-child Ascend. Konig make Stich new leader of Tiergeist.
Scorpions are the ultimate killers. Cold and black.

Stich was a thousand deaths.

Stehlen stood frozen, not even breathing, behind the young woman who had stopped to sniff at the air.
Does she know I'm here?
The girl must be Geisteskranken. But what kind? A Therianthrope like her companions? It made sense.

Bedeckt's sudden and unexpected flight left Stehlen wondering if, perhaps, she too had best flee. Did Bedeckt know something she didn't? The old warrior hadn't reached his decrepit age by being stupid. She saw Wichtig charge forward—only to be dragged down by a mass of snakes—and shuddered. His swords would be of little use. She could run now. Leave Wichtig to his
fate. It would be just her and Bedeckt.
Isn't this exactly what you wanted?
Wichtig's cries choked off in a strangled gurgle.

The woman, scanning the street and seeing no threat, moved toward Morgen, and Stehlen followed, quiet as death, hidden knives sliding silently from their sheaths.
Only one person gets to kill Wichtig, and that's me
.

Or maybe Bedeckt, if he asked nicely enough.

The scorpions poured over Wichtig and continued toward Morgen, and the boy screamed, an earsplitting noise shredding the air. The woman flinched and covered her ears.

Stehlen ghosted closer.

Wichtig fought, slashing and stabbing, until his arms were pinioned at his sides. He bit and thrashed, clawed and kicked, until even that movement was taken from him. Something dry and scaly slid with sinuous ease around his throat. The world, what little he saw of it between the coils of gods knows how many snakes, turned gray. And then black.

Morgen watched in mounting terror as the swarm of glistening scorpions scampered with an eerie chitinous clicking toward him. Though he didn't understand why, he knew Stich sought to kill him. But something else terrified him more: insects were
filthy
. Aufschlag told him so. Weren't scorpions carrion insects? Fear and disgust scrambled his thoughts into a chaotic jumble.

Bedeckt running away. Stehlen gone. Wichtig buried under a mountain of snakes.
Why didn't I see this?
Was this his death?

Morgen's incoherent screams became one word repeated over and over. “No!”

This isn't it!
This wasn't how he Ascended. He'd seen it. He'd
seen fire. He'd seen Bedeckt wounded and dying. This was not it. The thought helped him focus.

Stich was almost upon him when Morgen screamed, “Don't touch me!”

Confused, Stich ceased his charge and piled up around Morgen's feet. He was unable to touch the boy, unable to even
want
to touch him.

Morgen pointed a trembling finger at Masse, entangled around the downed Swordsman. “Kill the snakes, they're filthy.”

Stich felt the boy's disgust to the core of his soul. He hated Masse. Maybe he always had, he couldn't remember.

As one, the scorpions turned and swarmed the snakes.

Asena approached Morgen, stepping around the agonized coiling heap of Masse, Stich, and the World's Greatest Swordsman. She understood now why Konig had sought to deafen them. Unsure if she planned to kill the boy, she moved closer. Konig's Gefahrgeist coercion warred with her love of the child. She wanted to obey the Theocrat. She wanted to make him happy, to please him so he might—if not love her as she loved him—at least respect her. No matter what she did, no matter what she sacrificed, Konig wanted more. He was a pit she could never fill, no matter how long she poured herself into it. But she would never give up. She couldn't.

Asena made up her mind. She would bring Morgen back to Selbsthass so he might Ascend among the comfort of friends. Konig wouldn't thank her—he never thanked her—but would perhaps someday come to understand that she did this for him.

“Morgen,” she called out. “I've come to take you—”

Stehlen's knife slid effortlessly between the young woman's vertebrae, just below the shoulders. It was the perfect strike, instantly paralyzing. The woman crumpled, face-first, to the ground. Stehlen stepped over her and continued toward Morgen as if nothing had happened. The snakes finally stopped their mad thrashing and the scorpions—those not crushed during the battle—staggered about in confusion. The few surviving snakes fled. She wrenched Bedeckt's ax from the skull of the dead bear as she passed. The damned thing weighed a ton. The old bastard would want it.
Should I give it to him haft or edge first?

Stehlen glimpsed one of Wichtig's hands protruding from the coil of dead and dying snakes. The hand held no sword.
Idiot
.

Stopping before Morgen, she gestured with the bloody knife. “Is he dead?” She wasn't sure what answer she hoped to hear.

Morgen stomped on a dazed scorpion. The remaining bugs streamed away to the east.

“For now,” he said.

Stehlen thought he sounded less than happy about this. She considered putting a comforting arm around the boy but couldn't figure out how to do it.

“We should get off the street,” she suggested. “Find a different inn too.”

She stooped to grab Wichtig's hand and drag him free of the dead snakes. The Swordsman, covered in bloody welts, his head hanging at an odd angle, was unnaturally still and limp. The glint of one of his swords caught her eye. She thought about asking Morgen to bring it along. Assuming the boy brought Wichtig back, he'd want those blades.

“We had better go,” she said.

With a nasty smirk and a grunted effort, she hefted Wichtig over her shoulder. She couldn't carry Bedeckt's silly ax and Wichtig's stupid corpse.

“Carry this,” she said, handing the ax to Morgen, and set off down the street.

Dragging the ax behind him, Morgen struggled to catch up. “Where did Bedeckt go?”

“No idea.”

Unable to move, Anomie watched the feet of her killer and listened to her brief conversation with Morgen. Blood pooled around her head, filling one nostril and making breathing difficult. In moments her right eye sank below the rising blood and halved her vision. She couldn't open her mouth, and soon her other nostril would fill. She felt nothing, not the slowing thump of her heart or the shattered bones and teeth resulting from her headfirst impact with the cobbled road. She was glad she hadn't slain Morgen and even happier she hadn't returned him to Konig's clutches. Knowing it was over, knowing these moments were her last, freed her from Konig's Gefahrgeist grip.

I regret nothing.

Blood filled her nostrils, and her vision blurred and narrowed to a graying tunnel. Involuntary shudders racked her body and her lungs fought to draw breath.