Beyond Redemption 37 Chapter 35

—WAHNSINNIG GEMAHLIN, OTRAALMA

Wichtig talked with Morgen as they rode west, maintaining a continual flow of inane chatter with consummate ease. Though he pretended to be relaxed and jovial, his eyes never stopped scanning the dark forest to the north of the road. The sky overhead was so thick with cloud he couldn't guess the time.

What the h.e.l.ls is this forest called? He had no clue, but disliked its look with the instinctive distrust of the city-born. Forests always hid things. Spill blood, and the ground soaked it up in seconds, forever hiding the violence. At least on a city street the blood stayed around for a few days, giving testament to the work done. And forests always seemed to bring out the darkest his soul had to offer. Bad things happened in forests at night. He shuddered as he remembered the night Bedeckt saved their lives when he should have fled.

Of course the memory was somewhat tainted by the much newer memory of Bedeckt abandoning him in the street.

The sky darkened, the world's colors fading to monochromatic. He darted a glance toward Bedeckt, who rode several yards in front, but said nothing. When the sky darkened further and he could barely make out Bedeckt ahead, he finally sighed with exasperation.

"Bedeckt, this is stupid. It'll be dark soon. We should make camp."

"A little further," grunted Bedeckt.

Wichtig didn't want to say what really bothered him. Albtraum. If they waited too long, it would make starting a good fire more difficult. d.a.m.ned if I'm skulking about in that damp forest looking for burnable wood in complete darkness.

Any thought that Wichtig might still owe something to Bedeckt left him uncomfortable. So, a diversion. "The boy is tired," he said, placing a comforting hand on the lad's shoulder. "h.e.l.ls, I'm tired too."

It didn't work. If Bedeckt heard he showed no sign.

Glancing at Stehlen, Wichtig gave her a worried look, which she returned. As much a product of the city as Wichtig, she understood immediately. She too had reason to fear the gloomy forest.

The Kleptic cleared her throat and spat thickly at the legs of Wichtig's horse, which flattened its ears and uttered a small complaining whinny. "I wouldn't mind stopping either," she said.

"A little further," repeated Bedeckt.

"Don't be an idiot," Stehlen snapped. "We almost died yesterday. One of us did die. This is no night to be without a good fire." She flared nostrils at Bedeckt's back. "What do you think seeing the Afterdeath has done for Wichtig's sanity?"

"Me?" Wichtig protested. "I'm fine! I was just thinking of the boy!"

"We could do without visits tonight," said Stehlen.

Bedeckt's shoulders hunched, but he said nothing.

"My sanity is fine," said Wichtig defensively, even though this was exactly what he worried about. "Stehlen is just looking for a little rematch of whatever happened the other—"

"Fine," interrupted Bedeckt. "We'll stop here. You two make camp." He gestured with his half hand. "Out of sight of the road. I'm going to find something to kill." He rode into the forest without another word.

"He meant for dinner, right?" asked Morgen.

"Probably," answered Wichtig.

HALF AN HOUR later they had a good-sized fire and a makes.h.i.+ft lean-to blocking it from sight of the road. Stehlen fussed around with her pack, rearranging whatever stolen trinkets she had stashed in there into a kind of order that would make sense only to the deranged. Wichtig had watched her do this so many times it had long since stopped being worthy of comment or mockery. He was more interested in the boy.

"I saw you watching as we made camp," said Wichtig as he spread his sleeping roll near the fire. "Would you like to learn how?"

Morgen looked doubtful.

"It's easy," Wichtig continued. "I can show you everything; how to make your own char cloth, what kind of tinder to use, and what stones make the best sparks."

"Is it dirty?"

Wichtig held up stained hands. "Most things are," he said with a casual shrug. "These skills keep you alive. I can teach you useful things, like how to skin and prepare game." He chuckled. "Now, that is dirty work."

Morgen, still standing, shuddered.

Perfect! Crouching near Morgen, Wichtig gave him a rea.s.suring smile. "Don't worry. As long as you have me at your side"—he treated the boy to a grave look—"I will always do your dirty work." Staring into the woods beyond, he said quietly, as if to himself, "People like you need people like me."

"I'm sorry," said Morgen.

Wichtig pretended to look startled. "What? Oh, it's nothing." He flashed a brilliant smile and set about carefully clearing a spot for Morgen's sleeping roll. "You know what they say about the life you save."

The boy looked comically serious. "You are responsible for it. It belongs to you."

Wichtig didn't quite like the last part or the way the boy said it, but let it go. Sometimes the lad had a strange way of speaking. He glanced surrept.i.tiously at Stehlen. The Kleptic remained absorbed in reorganizing her pack. Good. With Bedeckt away, this would be Wichtig's best chance. He wished he'd had more time to plan, but knew he wouldn't have done so anyway. He worked best when under pressure, when the slightest mistake could cost everything.

If Bedeckt had half a clue how clever I am, he'd have killed me years ago. Or put me in charge. Still, it was entertaining to let Bedeckt think he ran this sorry little troop of thieves.

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"Morgen?"

The boy looked up, met his eyes. "Yes?"

"How much did Konig tell you of his plans?"

"Aufschlag, my teacher, told me more than he was supposed to." Morgen gazed sadly into the fire. "I think he felt guilty."

"But they told you that they groomed you to be a G.o.d?"

"I was born to be a G.o.d."

Wichtig accepted the correction without comment. "Do you know why?"

Morgen looked confused. "To serve the people of Selbstha.s.s."

Wichtig let a little doubt show on his face. "You understand what the Geborene Damonen believe, right?"

"Man created the G.o.ds, and not the other way around."

"Sure," agreed Wichtig as if he'd known, "but there's more. Though they believe man created the G.o.ds, until very recently, they still wors.h.i.+ped those G.o.ds. The Geborene were little more than a crazy splinter sect from the Wahnvor Stellung. They wors.h.i.+ped the same G.o.ds." He had no idea whether this was strictly true, but figured the lad most likely knew even less than he. In his experience, half-truths sounded more believable than whole truths anyway. He mixed in bits he remembered from Bedeckt's rambling at the bridge. "The Geborene only became a serious religion when Konig took over. Previously they'd been something of a joke. Konig saw the truth."

"The truth?" Morgen asked when Wichtig let the pause grow long.

"The truth: if humanity created the G.o.ds, they can create more G.o.ds. New G.o.ds. He knew if he shaped the beliefs of the people wors.h.i.+ping this new G.o.d, he could shape how the G.o.d turned out. He understood a G.o.d could be planned."

Morgen licked his lips thoughtfully. "Makes sense, I suppose."

"Konig may be a powerful Gefahrgeist, but he is not without"—Wichtig did his best to look genuinely apologetic—"faults. Sorry, but I see this more clearly than he did. Don't get me wrong, I could never have started what he did, or had the vision to set things in motion. But I see what he missed."

Eyes wide, Morgen asked, "What did he miss?"

"It's a lot like one of Bedeckt's plans," Wichtig mused philosophically. "The bigger the plan, the longer you think about it . . . the more the plan will go to s.h.i.+te."

"And?"

"At some point the Geborene G.o.d will grow beyond the control of those who made it. They could shape it, but n.o.body can force a G.o.d to do something it doesn't want to do."

"It," said Morgen flatly.

"Sorry. You. People can do their best to manipulate you, but no one can force you to do anything. At least not once you're a G.o.d. Until then—"

"When I Ascend," said Morgen.

Wichtig hid a flash of annoyance at the interruption. He hated having his flow disturbed. "Right. Until you Ascend you are vulnerable to manipulation." He left the implied "by people other than me" unsaid.

A thought occurred to Wichtig. "How do you Ascend?"

Morgen hunched his shoulders as if he were cold. "Aufschlag says I have to die." A burning stick rolled to the edge of the hastily dug pit as the fire s.h.i.+fted, and Morgen gently nudged it with a toe. "I see a lot of fire."

Wichtig hid his confusion, nodding with a concerned frown. "Yeah, I see a lot of fire too." Right there in front of me, he thought sarcastically. He changed tack again. "Hey, I just thought of something. Those a.s.sa.s.sins, the things in Neidrig."

"Tiergeist."

"Do you think they tried to kill you so you'd Ascend?"

Morgen tensed. He nodded once.

"But why?" Wichtig let the question hang. He sat beside Morgen, pretending to stare into the fire in thoughtful contemplation. "Only one thing makes sense: they're afraid you might learn something."

The boy remained silent. d.a.m.ned annoying. The more people talked, the easier it was to read and manipulate them.

"The question is," Wichtig continued, "did they work on their own, or were they doing Konig's bidding?" He picked up a stick and poked at the fire, using the distraction to check that Stehlen was still consumed with her pack. "What could the Tiergeist hope to gain from forcing your Ascension? No," he said quietly, as if musing more to himself than talking to Morgen. "They must have been following orders. Konig wants you dead. He's afraid you'll learn something, turning you against him." Wichtig placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder and felt the lad tense. "Bedeckt is a fool, a brainless moron. But every now and then he says something of such simple wisdom it stuns you. Knowledge is power. Bedeckt told me that. I know," agreed Wichtig to the lad's silence. "You'd never expect such insight from a thoughtless block of wood. What I'm saying is this: you need to learn whatever it is Konig doesn't want you to learn. You must know as much as you possibly can before you Ascend." He paused to look thoughtful. "Have you read much history?" he asked.

Morgen shook his head.

G.o.ds d.a.m.n, he wished the boy would say something, give him some insight into what was going on in his little skull. Ah, well. At least the boy isn't well read. Talking to the well educated was always so much more of a pain in the a.r.s.e.

"A shame," admitted Wichtig, "because then you'd know all G.o.ds have heroes. For each G.o.d there is one hero who does the G.o.d's bidding here in the mortal world." He shook his head in mock disgust and sighed. "I can't believe Konig didn't tell you this stuff. It isn't right. No, I can't leave this wrong . . ." He couldn't think of the word. ". . . un-righted." Wichtig turned to face the boy, leaning down to look Morgen in the eyes. "I, Wichtig Lügner, the Greatest Swordsman in the World, will be your protector. Your hero for so however long as you need me. This I promise you: you shall live to learn all you need to know before you Ascend. You must learn what Konig seeks to hide from you. Knowledge is power, and truth is a weapon." What a beautiful sentence! I'll have to remember it for later. "Truth and my sword. These are the weapons you will need to become the G.o.d you must become. Your own G.o.d, not the plaything of a Gefahrgeist who doesn't respect you enough to tell you everything. The Geborene don't seek to create a wise G.o.d, they want an obedient G.o.d, an ignorant G.o.d. You don't want to be an ignorant G.o.d, do you?"

The lad shook his head.

"Good," said Wichtig. "You are safe at my side."

Stehlen looked up from her pack as if coming out of a trance.

Wichtig smiled his most innocent smile. "No one has stolen anything from you, I trust?"

Her eyes narrowed. "No one steals from me."

As Wichtig babbled, Morgen watched small figures, little more than oddly shaped sparks, dance and jump in the fire. He saw Konig pounding his fists against a wall of gla.s.s, screaming at the Konig beyond. Bedeckt he saw writhing in searing agony. Who was this grotesque spider, hunched, glistening in the center of a web of ravenous need? Glimpses of those he knew flickered teasingly before his eyes. Though he knew not how, he was sure these were visions of a not-so-distant future.

Not until Wichtig finally stopped talking did Morgen realize he hadn't seen the Swordsman in the flames. For all his promises of protection, Wichtig was nowhere to be found.

The flames flickered as if in response to his thoughts, building a scene he recognized. That's this camp. Wichtig lay sleeping, wrapped in a thin blanket. No, he's not sleeping, Morgen realized, seeing the Swordsman's wide, staring eyes. He's dead.

How could this happen? A falling-out with Stehlen? Should I warn him? Wait, why does his death matter if I can just bring him back?

The answer was obvious: Because I don't bring him back.

But why wouldn't he?

Because I want him dead.

He stared into the fire, watched as the dancing flames replayed every conversation, every word he'd ever shared with the Swordsman. Everything Wichtig had said contained undercurrents—now, looking back, not even particularly subtle—of manipulation. If Wichtig ever spoke a word of truth, it was an accident.

Morgen's jaw clenched; his fist tightened until the muscles in his thin arms felt like they would pop.

Wichtig thinks he can use me. Is there anyone in all the world I can trust?

The flames reached toward him, offering warmth and love. Just like the reflections, they showed the future, told him the truth when no one else would. The fire and reflections, they were one and the same. And they never lied.

Were Aufschlag here, Morgen felt sure the Geborene scientist would have been a source both of comfort and of wisdom. He missed the old man. At times like this he could almost hear what Aufschlag would have said.

Aufschlag's face stared at him from the flames. The scientist's lips moved, and though Morgen heard nothing, he understood.

Think this through.

Something Wichtig said bothered him: Konig wants you dead. He's afraid you'll learn something that will turn you against him. Was this the only explanation?

In the fire Aufschlag shook his head and then faded from view.

No, thought Morgen, there is another explanation. He watched Wichtig and Stehlen bicker. Though the Swordsman was relatively clean, at least in a physical sense, Morgen could feel something of the filth lurking in the man's soul. For all Wichtig spoke of trust, he trusted no one. For all he spoke of wisdom, he learned nothing. Every word he uttered was done so with an eye toward manipulation. Wichtig's tongue dripped poison. He infects me with his lies.

Stehlen was worse. She was disgusting from head to toe. Her clothes reeked of back-alley garbage, her yellow eyes burned with hatred for everything and everyone—herself included. She'd kill Morgen without hesitation. At least it was something he could trust. She was a thieving murderer and never pretended otherwise. Morgen would have felt a spot of warmth for the Kleptic had he not been terrified of her. Stehlen was easily the most dangerous of his three companions.

Again Morgen came back to the question: Why would Konig send the Tiergeist to kill me? Wichtig's a.s.sertion that Konig feared Morgen would learn something wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't completely wrong either. Morgen scowled at the filthy ground beyond his sleeping roll. No matter what he did, no matter how careful he was, he always managed to get dirty again. There is no escaping contamination.

The thought stopped him.

Infection. Contamination.

Did Konig fear he would somehow be contaminated by the people he traveled with? But then why would Konig send them to . . .

A rush of fear raced cold fingers tickling down Morgen's spine. He thought back to the many bodies of Viele Sindein, his Mehrere bodyguard. Had the woman died protecting him, not trying to kill him, as Wichtig claimed?

What are the odds Wichtig told the truth about this and lied about everything else?

He'd been a fool. Morgen's sheltered life within the confines of the Geborene Damonen church left him ill prepared for dealing with the grime of reality. Why did no one teach me to ask questions? Prior to his time with Bedeckt, Wichtig, and Stehlen, he'd had no experience with lies. Now, though, he'd seen enough to know the three continually lied to themselves and each other. Subtext and alternate meanings lurked in everything they said. Few words weren't attempts at obfuscation and distraction. And Morgen was learning from them. He couldn't help it. He listened to their talk. Watched them steal and kill. They soaked through his skin like poison.

Is it too late? Was he already infected with their distrust, polluted by their greed, corrupted by the death following them?

Morgen thought back to Konig and life with the Geborene. The High Priest had been a stern taskmaster, but—as far as Morgen knew—he had never lied. And Morgen never lied to Konig. Was this part of what Konig sought to create, an honest G.o.d?

Morgen felt ill to his stomach. He'd lied when Wichtig had asked if he'd read much history. At the time he'd just wanted Wichtig to leave him alone. The small lie slipped out before he'd even thought about it. It had been easy.

"It's too late," Morgen said aloud. "I've been—"

"What?" interrupted Wichtig. "What's too late?"

"It's too late for me to be still awake," he lied. "I've been tired for ages. I'm going to sleep now."

Morgen crawled into his sleeping roll as Wichtig watched with a contemplative frown. Did the Swordsman suspect? Morgen doubted it; Wichtig was far too self-absorbed to notice someone else's discomfort.

"Sweet dreams," said Wichtig, patting him on the shoulder with an ash-stained hand. If he noticed Morgen's distaste at the contact, he made no mention of it.

Morgen lay curled with his eyes closed, anger twisting his stomach until he thought he would retch. He listened as Wichtig and Stehlen returned to arguing. He'd seen something in the fire as he once again lied to Wichtig. Bedeckt wouldn't return tonight, and Stehlen would slink away to find him. Wichtig would be the only one watching over him.

Morgen understood now why he never saw Wichtig in the future.

Contaminated. Corrupted. Lies.

And soon violence.

Morgen understood. I must never Ascend.

The Geborene experiment was a failure.