—ANONYMOUS HALLUZINIEREN

This was the calm eye of the storm, the hot center of crumbling sanity and last hopes. In all directions the horizon coiled and heaved, a lurid bruise, a maelstrom of abhorrent neuroses given form. The sky looked sick, reality ill with gross mistreatment. Gehirn tasted it in the air. The very ground wailed affliction. She wanted to cauterize the infection.

Regen Anrufer—Erbrechen's pet shaman—shuffled alongside Gehirn, his bulbous eyes staring off into bleak eternity, his few rotting teeth bared in a perpetual grimace. A stream of gritty brown drool attached chin to chest. Gehirn wanted to burn the Schlammstamm shaman in a wash of all-cleansing fire. The degenerate mob, staggering under the weight of Erbrechen's litter, followed behind. She wanted to torch the mob too. Flame ablating flesh from bone, rinsing the wretched stench from life.

Burn. The thought sent s.h.i.+vers of pleasure tickling down her spine. As always, disgust followed.

Erbrechen remained hidden within the tented litter, accompanied this time by a young blond boy who reminded Gehirn of the G.o.d-child Morgen. Her stomach twisted at the thought.

When she walked in front of the mob, the stench was less overpowering—though far from nonexistent—and they didn't have to wade through the disgusting leavings of a crowd unable to care for themselves. Erbrechen's friends wouldn't—or couldn't—leave the caravan to relieve themselves. Instead they defecated as they walked, spilling thin drooling feces along emaciated legs. Most no longer possessed shoes and walked barefoot, blistered and bleeding, through the droppings of those in front.

Burn all of this s.h.i.+te to ash.

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Gehirn slashed a sideways glance at Regen. Blood still trickled from the many wounds the shaman had opened along his bony arms to feed the sky. Self-hatred and self-abuse were requisites for many Geisteskranken. Regen drained himself as though blood—and not his failing sanity—fueled his power. Pale and drawn, he walked like a poorly animated corpse, looking like he might collapse at any moment.

And when he did, the sun would return. Erbrechen asked too much of the Schlammstamm shaman.

"Protect my Ha.s.sebrand from the sun and the moon," Erbrechen had demanded of Regen.

"A storm will grow, one I can't—"

"Just make sure it doesn't rain here." Erbrechen smiled then at his squat shaman. "Do this for me, my friend."

Gehirn saw the despair, hatred, and love in Regen's eyes. Regen would hold the storm at bay for as long as he could. His love of Erbrechen allowed no less.

Gehirn and Regen shared a look of mutual hate and understanding. Both knew Regen's sanity would crumble under the continual abuse. Erbrechen burned through Regen's sanity at a terrifying pace.

Gehirn chuckled quietly as she imagined the ugly little shaman as a dry stick soon to be tossed into a raging inferno. The thought both pleased and sobered. Gehirn could only hope the organ stew might stave off her own descent into madness. If Erbrechen was correct, and eating the souls of those less tainted could save her, perhaps she could satisfy Erbrechen and yet still survive.

"He doesn't love you," muttered Regen, picking at a scab.

"Yes, he does," she answered. "He shares his stew with me. Does he share it with you?" she asked, knowing the answer.

Regen scowled at the ground. A stream of brown drool hung unnoticed from his weak chin. "Does he touch you?" the shaman suddenly asked. "If he loved you he'd touch you." Regen grinned rot at her. "Has he ever touched you?"

No, not once. Gehirn glanced over her shoulder, back toward Erbrechen's tented litter. She could only imagine what was happening within. "Not all love is physical," she said.

Why won't he touch me?

AS EACH OF Erbrechen's followers fell—or was felled—Erbrechen and Gehirn ate of the small souls as Regen looked on, the desperate hope in his eyes dimming hour by hour. Erbrechen never seemed to notice.

Gehirn studied the swarm of skeletal bodies hustling to break another body into small enough pieces to fit into the cooking pot. Yet she could not argue. For in truth, it didn't matter so much if Erbrechen loved her, as long as she loved Erbrechen. And she did. Loved and feared and wors.h.i.+ped.

There was another emotion there, lurking beneath the others. Was it hate? No, that couldn't be possible. Yet his distance stung.

Later in the day an emaciated woman of indeterminate age with thin, sagging b.r.e.a.s.t.s and long, greasy hair came to Gehirn and walked alongside her in silence. The Ha.s.sebrand ground her teeth, resisting the urge to burn the woman to oily ash.

"He wants to see you," the woman finally said, her voice surprisingly strong and feminine. "You can find me after, if you want." She batted eyelashes at Erbrechen, who unabashedly examined her undernourished form. She had none of the tight-wound strength the female thief possessed. Nothing of the pent-up rage or enticing air of danger. The woman was almost completely uninteresting. Gehirn had nothing to fear from her and she offered none of the loathing the Ha.s.sebrand required from a s.e.xual partner. I can change that.

Gehirn showed p.r.o.nounced canines in a halfhearted leer. "I will find you, and later, when you hate me enough, perhaps then . . ." She left it hanging, dark with threat and promise, and turned to join Erbrechen.

In all directions the sky roiled with black clouds lit from beneath with stabbing tines of lightning. The rumble of distant thunder had become a continuous backdrop, a reason to speak louder, but little more. Erbrechen waved Gehirn onto the litter as the Ha.s.sebrand approached. Gehirn heard and ignored the strained groan of the men and women carrying the litter as she clambered aboard.

Erbrechen, resplendent in his oily nakedness, beamed, his greasy cherubic face seemingly lit from within. "Ah, my good friend. I have need of your wise counsel."

He desires my counsel! Gehirn's doubts and angers suddenly seemed petty. They weren't gone, but they didn't much matter in comparison to her love of Erbrechen. She basked in the gaze of those segreen eyes.

Gehirn sat across from her one true friend. The gentle roll of the litter as it crawled across the land toward their destiny added a stately feel to the proceedings.

"How may I be of a.s.sistance?" Gehirn asked.

"I have been thinking. This Konig Furimmer who was once your friend. He has an army gathered about him, does he not?"

"Konig maintains a small but well-equipped military force with squads of Geisteskranken of all breeds. The strength of the Geborene Damonen religion backs him, the united faith of a hundred thousand people. His grip on their faith is absolute. Konig manages the impossible, wielding the beliefs of the ma.s.ses like a well-honed tool."

Erbrechen waved an arm he could barely lift, his fat sausagelike fingers almost lost in the pudgy hand. "Then I will need an army of my own."

"You have me. I was considered by many to be the most powerful Geisteskranken in Konig's service." Gehirn frowned, remembering her dream of the Krieger a.s.sa.s.sination attempt. G.o.ds, she wished she knew if it had been real. "Perhaps this is why he sent me away. He saw my power growing and feared my increasing instability."

"He didn't offer to aid his friend?" Erbrechen asked innocently.

Gehirn scowled and watched Regen plod dejectedly through the mud. "Konig was never my friend."

"And he tossed you aside in your time of need." Erbrechen tutted with disgust. His obscenely fat and greasy face contorting in a frown, he looked like an enraged baby. "But we'll show him. What he threw away still has great value."

Gehirn, surprised, looked up. "It has? Is? I am? Valuable? Valued?"

"Very. I cannot do this without you." Erbrechen waved a hand at the unruly mob surrounding and following his litter. "There is little I can do with such as these. Few have delusions worth speaking of and none can fight worth a d.a.m.n. At best they are fodder, a distraction. But you, my tall and icy-eyed friend, you can wipe out armies. The delusions of Konig's Geisteskranken will be nothing before your fire. Never before have you dared to reach for your pinnacle: the curse of all Geisteskranken was a wall between you and your potential. My faith removes such walls. I know you can unleash what you keep so tightly pent-up inside. You can burn it all."

Gehirn's heart slammed against her ribs. Erbrechen's belief could not be denied. Erbrechen defined reality. How could I have doubted his love?

"I—" Gehirn let out a long, shaking breath. She closed her eyes and whispered, "I will burn the world for you."

Erbrechen clapped gleefully. "Burn the world clean and I shall remake it anew. We shall be G.o.ds, my friend. New G.o.ds." Corpulent arms flailed in excitement. "I always knew I was destined for greatness." He darted a glance at Gehirn. "We are destined for greatness," he amended. "Unlike your Konig—the foul betrayer—I do not forget my friends."

Erbrechen told Gehirn of his plans: he would take his wretched host to Selbstha.s.s, topple Konig, and claim both the Theocracy and the G.o.d-child as his own. Along the way they would stop at every town and city and Erbrechen would convince their populations to join in his cause. As more joined, Erbrechen would grow in power and fewer would be able to resist. Gehirn would burn those few who did. In Selbstha.s.s there would be garrisons of troops and each would house a squad of Geisteskranken trained in battle. These were the true threat, the most likely to be able to resist Erbrechen, and the most likely to be able to strike from beyond the range of his power. These too Gehirn would burn.

"You have much burning to do," Erbrechen promised. "So much burning." Erbrechen licked wet lips in antic.i.p.ation. "I'm hungry!"

LATER, AS GEHIRN lay spooning the bruised and bleeding woman who shook with her very disgust and hatred, she realized she had contributed nothing and Erbrechen had not once asked for her counsel. For now, though, she was gloriously happy to be involved in such a bold undertaking. Doubt grew only in the fertile darkness of solitude.