The midnight blue coat swayed in a voguish way, though once again, the air was completely still. The scape she had emerged out of had expanded to cover the immediate reality, encasing everyone in a shell that immobilised them. Sign gestured at Zauberin, a move that unfroze her, allowing her to move. Zauberin immediately went on her knees, almost weeping as she spoke to Sign, “I beg for your mercy, eternal one! We had the boy, a cipher. The Wordscapist was in his head! He proved to be too powerful for us. We tried everything we could. I summoned you assuming that we…” Once again the words came a little after they were actually uttered, though the lag was much smaller this time. I guessed it had something to do with the power of the scape.
Sign stopped her with a gesture. She looked around at everyone in the room. She looked back at Zauberin, “You say the scape is with a boy?
“Yes. He is very young and does not understand what the gift is about. But I suspect the entity is talking to him, instructing him to use his powers. We were not prepared for what he did. He almost killed one of my wordsmiths. It took everything I had to bring her back. Two more are missing, sent some place by a teleport he initiated. He is extremely powerful.”
“It is the Wordscapist you are chasing, not a norm,” Sign smiled her scorn at Zauberin. “You will continue with this hunt, with everything you have and more. You will abandon your small-minded plans for revolution and find this boy first. I will not have the Wordscapist walk the face of this earth again.”
“Again? I do not understand…” Zauberin was flummoxed. So was I. Silvus had created the scape in the hope the Wordscapist was more than just a legend. So how could there be an ‘again’ in the picture? I was frozen in the scape though and could not express my bewilderment.
“You mortals are so lost in your arrogance and self-delusion. Where do you think the legend came from? The Wordscapist is one of the most devious wordsmiths to have woven a scape. I hunted him for centuries, until he finally disappeared into a hole, hibernating like a rabid bear. Your Mastersmith woke up this madman and brought his spirit back into this reality. I was too late to prevent the scape, but I managed to prevent Silvus’s body from playing host to the power that the Wordscapist is. Now, I need you to clean up the mess you have made. Hunt him down, and do so before he rediscovers the full extent of his powers. If that happens, I will not be happy. And you know who will be the first to taste my displeasure. You do not want one of my pets to come visit you while you are fast asleep,” Sign leaned dangerously close to a cowering Zauberin, almost purring the words, “do you?”
“No!” Zauberin almost screamed, “I’ll immediately initiate a port trace. I’ll find him and destroy him. I will not give you cause for complaint.”
“Good,” Sign straightened up and smiled. She looked around again, seeing the Healer hunched in a corner, a rictus of terror frozen on his face. “You should tell that silly man that his protection is pointless. It will save him only from children and insects.”
For a split second, I think she seriously considered sending something fatal to demonstrate the point. She looked around, threw a smile of recognition at me, and then twirled around and disappeared. The scape collapsed in on itself and winked out. The Kid collapsed in a dead faint from the sheer effort of the scape. I heard the Healer scream in terror as soon as he could move; terror that was a belated, but nevertheless extremely justified. Zauberin knelt on the floor and shuddered uncontrollably, having come way too close to Sign too many times for comfort. I just went and found my corner and had a second bout of hysterics.
CHAPTER 13
Crisis
Trouble comes in threes they say:
The first one, a toothless hag called Misfortune;
The second, a child named Confusion;
And the last the deadliest of all,
A seductress by name – Panic.
She brewed it all up
And served a hot plate full of trouble
Dew
It took me a couple of minutes to collect my breath from the crazy chase he had led me through the jungle. The moment I was able to speak without gasping, I gave it to him, good and proper!
“You stupid, irresponsible, crazy, arrogant ass! Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, you had to go and prove that they could!”
He shifted uncomfortably, trying to move his rapidly swelling leg to a higher place. He looked guilty and quite stupid. That didn’t ease my anger though. A lot of it might have been frustration at where I was and what I had done an hour back, but that too was all because of him. I wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily, broken leg or not!
“Stop moving! And say something! You’re not getting away by trying to look sheepish and lost!”
He muttered something along the lines of “I don’t know who to respond to.”
I didn’t understand at first, and then it dawned on me. Zauberin had been talking about the Wordscapist and something about an entity in his head. Could it be true? Could that explain the twin presence?
“Let me talk to him,” I demanded, my hands on my hips. This was my moment to make the most of the advantage I had and find out exactly what was happening.
He went quiet for a while, almost as if he was having a conversation in his head. What I wouldn’t have given to listen in. As it turned out, there wouldn’t have been much to hear.
“He says it isn’t possible,” Slick muttered, his expression a little grumpy at having to play messenger.
“Great! Then have him heal you and fly out of here! I’m done with you! The Free wordsmiths will be here any moment. They must be tracing your crazy teleport even as we speak. If they don’t vaporise me instantly for going renegade, I’ll apologise, say you messed up my head, and go back to them. And soon enough, they will bring you in! This time, I will be cheering!” With these words, I turned around and walked away. I barely had to take a couple of steps before he called out to me.
“Stop! Give me a chance, will you! I’m trying to figure things out. And this voice in my head...I know you have a name! Alain…Alain de Vorto, that’s him. He’s not very cooperative...Ok fine! He’s quite helpful, but can’t really do much in this situation. He’s stuck in my head and he doesn’t have a body to go to.” He rushed through this, with pauses to address to the voice in his head. If it weren’t for Zauberin’s words, I’d have thought he was completely cuckoo.
“A body,” I thought about that one for a while. “Why doesn’t he use an animal’s body for a while?”
“That’s a good idea!” he exclaimed, and then after a pause, “apparently not.” He continued sotto voce, no doubt impersonating this De Vorto character, “It doesn’t work like that, and any accomplished wordsmith would know so. I need a coherent human or fey shape to be able to make this transition, and it needs to be willing or weak. If not, the possession will destroy its mind and then I will be left without a host and will then dissipate into the ether.” After another pause, he exclaimed, “Who speaks like that! Dissipate into the ether!”
“Makes sense actually,” I said thoughtfully, ignoring his reproachful look. “There is one more solution though. The esprit spell. He could use that to create a spirit, a shell that he could inhabit.”
Again there was a pause, and in the same irritating mimicking voice, Slick replied, “You expect me, Alain de Vorto, the Wordscapist, to inhabit a shell, a mere ghost without form or power? You expect me to leave behind my gift and capabilities in an untrained, stupid wordsmith?”
“Cipher, not wordsmith,” I automatically responded, “But what’s the point of staying put in his head? He doesn’t control his powers, you do. And at this rate, he will go insane and you will lose a host as well.”
There was a long silence at this. I could see that Slick’s features had set into hard determination. He didn’t like the prospect of going crazy.
Slick spoke after a bit, a lot more matter-of-factly, “He still doesn’t agree. But he needs to help me heal my leg, and he can’t do that while he’
s in my head. Apparently, the pain has some kind of mental manifestation he can’t work through. Can you help me heal this break?”
I knelt beside him to take a look. I winced as I saw the state his leg was in. It looked like a bad fracture and was definitely not a pretty sight. “Let me see what I can do,” I said tentatively, “don’t expect any miracles though.”
I worked a healing charm for a few minutes. The words were simple enough. The moment I drew up my scape sign, I could see the flare of mossy green light around Slick. It felt even brighter so close up. I could see the flares of red that showed the pain he was in. I focussed on the spell. This had better work!
I felt the air around getting cooler and the moisture in his trousers frost up as the spell drew up energy to heal his injury. I had learnt the spell from Andy da who used it to heal a break in my arm after I took a nasty fall from my bike. It was definitely quite a painful experience. Slick grimaced and bore the pain pretty well. However, there was only so much that could be done in one go. And with everything that he had pulled off with the teleporting and the stunts before that, I didn’t want to push my luck. I stopped the moment I felt the spell drawing more energy than it should. The swelling had receded a little and his leg looked better. But it still didn’t look like he was capable of any kind of brisk movement.
Slick sat there with his eyes screwed shut for a bit longer. The pain took some time to dissipate, and then finally he opened his eyes and offered me a wan smile. “Much better,’ he said, a bit hoarsely.
“Good,” I drew back, a little hoarse myself from the effort of sustaining the spell for so long. “Now, let’s check if Mr. Wordscapist is fine with going ahead with this plan.”
Slick leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, bracing himself for a long conversation. I found a comfortable spot myself and waited. I still didn’t know why I was pushing for this. Maybe it was for my own sanity. I couldn’t believe everything that was happening. I needed to know this was real. I needed to understand. I was actively blocking out the memories of what happened back in Goa, how I had struck that creep Chains and how angry Papa Loon had been. I couldn’t deal with that yet. I continued to focus on the present and left that for later.
“He’s ready,” Slick said quietly. “He realises there’s no option. He also thinks you’re a smart wordsmith but a stubborn one. He would rather have waited, but then we don’t really have a choice. So let’s get started.”
Slick
I propped myself into a more comfortable position. My leg did feel a lot better, though the pain still throbbed with every movement I made. But it was a lot more bearable. With some effort, I could perhaps even manage to hobble around. But first, we had a separation to handle.
There was an extended silence for a while. Dew was at a loss for words now that we were getting down to it. De Vorto wasn’t too happy either. Finally, he spoke in my head, “I don’t know why I am doing this, but I think it is obvious that you trust this girl, perhaps a lot more than you trust me. In a twisted way, I guess it makes sense. I’ll tell you what to do. I shall speak through you and help you weave what she calls the Esprit spell. You will say the words, and then you will consciously will my presence to inhabit this spell. What you will see will seem much like a ghost. However, be warned that this separates us, but still leaves my gift and powers with you. All this while, I have been using my consciousness to guide you in your use of the power and stop you from destroying yourself each time you reached for it. You will have to go through a lot of preparation to stop yourself from exploding the next time you use your gift. My advice, don’t even try!”
Dew started to say something, probably assuming that I had spaced out again, but I stopped her with a gesture. I wanted De Vorto to finish. “It is a dangerous experiment, to say the least. But I agree that it will help you retain your sanity. And right now, that is pretty important. So are we ready to go?”
I nodded, without taking too much time to think. I was a complete chicken at heart and knew that spending time thinking about the risks would only mean I backed out of this insane plan.
“Alright then, tell the girl what we are planning to do and ask her to stay out of it and not go norm when she sees the spirit forming.”
I quickly told Dew about the plan. She seemed a little offended at the suggestion that she might freak out but didn’t say anything and merely nodded as I spoke.
It was the perfect setting for something spooky. There was incessant rain, thunder, lightning, thick forest all around and two scared youngsters to boot. And then I entered the zone. The words came in a rush. I was hardly aware of what I was saying. It sounded pretty weird and there was a bit of what sounded like Latin thrown in as well. In a couple of minutes, I saw a vague form appearing in the air, hovering much like a ghost would.
“Think of a shape, a form that you would like my spirit to take.”
In a flash, it was over. There in front of us was the translucent form of a faerie, a male one. He was pretty good looking, if you discounted the curls and the elf-like ears. His delicate clothing and translucent wings did make a pretty picture. It also did not help that he was just a couple of inches tall. His voice however was pretty much the same. This time it was audible and did not echo within my head. Moreover, he was feeling extremely vocal!
“You thought of a faerie! You have cast me in the image of a goddamned faerie! I am cast in a physical form after 400 years and it’s a damn faerie! And not even a real one at that! I look like something a bard would conjure up to entertain village folks! Are you out of your feeble mind? Do you know who I am? Do you even begin to understand what it takes to be me? A faerie?!”
At this point, I burst out laughing. I could not help it. There was something incredibly funny about seeing a man all of two inches high throwing a tantrum a mile wide. Dew was staring with her eyes wide open at this apparition. De Vorto got even more furious at my reaction, his form flushing a deep red, glowing with emotion. He flitted around, glaring at me. This continued for a couple of minutes; me in fits of giggles, trying to laugh without shaking too much; Dew staring at the glowing, translucent faerie that darted around like a hyperactive hummingbird; and of course, the faerie himself, De Vorto in a rare temper.
In time, I finally recovered. Dew did too, slowly. At least, she stopped gawping. De Vorto had not recovered. He was still very pissed and looked every inch of it. Well, two of them at least. At this thought, I burst out laughing again. Part of it was the sheer hysteria of the moment. Part of it was also an effort to cut out the stab of fear I felt. De Vorto was gone from my head, but I could still feel a presence in there. This time, it felt a whole lot more powerful and formless…And it exuded something that felt like pure evil. I didn’t know what it was about, but I wasn’t ready to find out yet.
***
De Vorto took some time getting over the shape he had to inhabit. In time, he did get to like it though, however much he denied it. He rather enjoyed the ability of flying about pretty much wherever he pleased. He also learned that he could become almost invisible if he managed to focus for long enough. This was pretty irritating for Dew and me because we could never make out when he was around.
Dew managed to further heal my leg, with De Vorto’s help and guidance. De Vorto did not trust me to use the gift and I was forbidden from trying the simplest of scapes until I started my training. Once the rain abated, we made our way to my friend’s cabin. The spare key was behind the decorative griffin on the veranda, as always. We made our way in and lit up the storm lamps. We would have to figure out the generator and the fuel before we could have electricity.
My leg still hurt a fair bit and I was cold and damp. So was Dew for that matter. De Vorto was waterproof, one of the many perks of his form. I limped to the kitchen, where I was glad to find a fully stocked kitchen with lots of canned foodstuff and, wonder of wonders, wine! I quickly fixed a meal of gourmet canned food along with a bottle of a modest rosé. Dew in the meanwhile had managed to dr
y her clothes using an iron she found. She had freshened up and looked as good as new. De Vorto was fluttering about, checking the place and muttering to himself. In the main room of that cottage I had my first date with Dew, with storm lamps instead of candles, De Vorto’s buzzing replacing violins, and thunder and lightning providing a lively ambience. The food was bland but the wine was decent. Dew was quite lost though, and apparently unaware of the inherently romantic setting. She was stealing glances at De Vorto who was putting up quite a show with his aerial acrobatics. I finally gave up on trying out soulful, intense looks and concentrated on eating.
Food and drink done, I settled in a corner with the mandatory after-dinner smoke. My packet had been soaked through, but my friend, ever the thoughtful one, had a carton as backup. It was pretty old backup and the cigarette tasted harsh, but any port in a storm. I gently massaged my foot as I smoked, wondering what was going to come. The presence in my head had settled down some, but it was there. Each time I did something difficult, which with a broken leg is almost everything, there was a flare of power in my head, an unspoken suggestion. I knew what it meant. It wasn’t using words, but it was pretty much saying...weave! It would be so easy to say a few words that would ease my pain, that would bring things flying to my hand, that would make me fly! These were crazy thoughts. I had to focus. I had to stay sane. No weaving! De Vorto had said I could blow myself up if I tried weaving. I didn’t want that. I went back to looking at Dew. At least that was safe. But she was lost in her own thoughts. I knew it wasn’t the food.
Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1) Page 20
