Beyond Redemption 41 Chapter 39

—HOFFNUNGSLOS

Searching from top to bottom, smas.h.i.+ng every mirror he found, dulling every reflective surface, Trepidation finally arrived in the bowels of the ancient church. He had no idea what G.o.d or religion previously walked these halls, but sometimes he felt the ghosts of dead faiths following him. Today was one of those days. Shadows danced on the edges of his vision, but no matter how fast he spun, there was nothing there. He'd doubt his sanity, except he knew beyond a doubt he was delusional.

The only question: Did he believe what he saw strongly enough to make it real?

The thought of his delusions becoming real was less scary than being tracked through dark halls by dead G.o.ds. Or so he told himself.

"If you're angry we made our own G.o.d," he told the stalking spirits, "take it up with Konig. Leave me be."

There was, of course, no answer.

In the farthest recesses of the deepest bas.e.m.e.nt, Trepidation found a room. The door, thick oak bound in rusting iron, opened with great screeching protests.

He stood waiting, the lantern in his hand all but shuttered, for half an hour. No one came to investigate.

Dare he hope?

No. Fear would never allow him anything so hopelessly silly as hope. Still, fear would keep him alive. It was the only sane emotion in an insane world.

Trepidation unshuttered the lantern and lit the room. Wood benches and pews from at least three different time periods sat piled haphazardly against one wall. Half buried under a mound of rotting tapestries, broken chairs, and strangely shaped idols lurked a ma.s.sive statue carved from some dark wood. When Trepidation worked up the nerve to raise the lantern to better see, the wood turned red like drying blood. The statue, depicting a woman with viciously curved blades protruding from orifice, limb, and joint, stared at him with hollow eyes.

Gems probably once filled those sockets, he thought. She looked blind now, though judging from the way she stared at him, he wasn't so sure.

"I'm not here to further desecrate you," he promised. "Maybe later, when Konig is dead and I rule, I can bring you back upstairs and into the light. I could use a G.o.d, even one as old and dead as you."
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This seemed to appease her and she left him alone.

Trepidation swallowed his fear and drew a cloth-wrapped bundle not much bigger than the palm of his hand from within his robes. Carefully he folded the cloth back, revealing the small hand mirror cus.h.i.+oned within.

Did Acceptance really think Trepidation would be okay with him being the only one with a mirror? Did he think Trepidation would just trust him? If so, he is a fool. Trepidation trusted no one.

Slowly turning the mirror, Trepidation looked within, unsure what he would see and poised and ready to smash it to the floor should it prove dangerous.

His face stared back at him. But it wasn't his face. He was missing an eye, dark bruises mottled his cheeks, and his teeth were shattered ruins. Acceptance.

No, he realized, Acceptance's reflection; an important distinction.

Trepidation blinked at it in confusion. How can I see Acceptance's reflection? Unless . . .

"You seek to betray him," he said to the mirror. The reflection nodded. "Because he broke Konig's mirror and you fear he'll smash the one he has as soon as he's won." Again the reflection nodded. "He'll kill us both, won't he?" The reflection nodded.

Trepidation sat in silence, thinking. The reflection watched, waiting.

"You know I don't trust you," he told the mirror, and the reflection within laughed silently. "Good. So what is it you suggest I do?" he asked.

The reflection showed him and he watched in horror.

"It's too dangerous," he told the mirror.

The reflection stared at him, unblinking.

"What if it goes wrong?"

It just stared at him.

What choice do I have? Acceptance would never share power, not even the smallest fragment.

The reflection grinned, showing broken teeth.

Right. I did that to him. Acceptance would never forgive.

"And how will Konig react?"

The reflection showed him.

Trepidation folded the mirror back into its cloth and tucked it away under his robes.