“Good girl!” De Vorto exclaimed, his form glowing with excitement. “A neat scape, if ever I’ve seen one. That will take us right where we need to go!”
Dew nodded, “I can sense it. It’s stable and completely safe. I guess we can leave now, if you want.”
“Wait, what!” I exclaimed, jumping up. “Leave for where? Scotland?”
“Aye,” De Vorto said, a warm glow suffusing his little form. “We are going to Skye! We are going to the Black Cuillin!”
I had no clue what he had just said, but I guessed they were Scottish places.
“Now?” I asked, completely shocked at how we were just ready to skip to Scotland.
“I guess,” Dew responded. “We shouldn’t stay here any longer than we need to.” She looked at De Vorto and asked, “Can this port be traced?”
“Let them try,” he said, with a cocky smile. Oh God, he was so much like me!
“What about food and clothing?” Dew asked.
“The land will provide, little one. Don’t you worry your pretty head,” Do Vorto said. He flew right into the bottle and settled down, gesturing furiously for us to get going. I looked at Dew, still in shock at this sudden decision. She shrugged and motioned to the bottle, putting her hand on it. I reached out tentatively and held the bottle too, my hand alongside hers.
As she whispered the closing words of the port spell, I asked out aloud. “Isn’t it going to be cold?” Then everything dissolved with a loud bang into a crazy whirr of darkness and colours.
Dew
It was freezing. And windy. And extremely dark. There was a cold rain, the kind they call sleet. Slick was hunched beside me and De Vorto was happily flitting all around. Slick and I were definitely not dressed for this, and in a moment were drenched and very cold. I looked around. We had arrived in a black valley in the midst of a bunch of black hills. In the dark night, everything looked black, but I could sense that everything was actually black too. There was no civilisation for miles. I couldn’t see any sign of life or even shelter.
I did the time math in my head – it was dusk and we had a long, cold night ahead of us. It was a miracle we had reached here safely, but it was going to be an even greater miracle to leave in one piece. “That’s Sgurr Dearg,” De Vorto said, pointing at one of the more jagged peaks around us. I noticed that he was losing Slick’s tone and accent and was slipping back to his Scottish roots. I had long since stopped asking him to repeat stuff, trying to make sense of the words he said. My mind boggled as I tried to imagine how those sounds might be spelt. I looked in the direction he was pointing. That sound was probably the name of the mountain in the distance. It was also definitely the highest and looked pretty menacing.
“So?” Slick asked, his voice loaded with don’t-tell-me-we-have-to-climb-it.
“We have to climb it,” De Vorto happily announced. “A short walk and we’ll reach the point where we descend into my valley.”
“Said the one who can flit...You do realise that my leg still hasn’t healed completely,” Slick responded, struggling with the effort of keeping his voice calm.
De Vorto frowned at him, and then looked at me to check if Slick was just being a baby. I tried my best to look cold and miserable and not enthusiastic at all about trekking through the dark while freezing to death. I didn’t have to try very hard.
“Oh well, where is that bottle?” De Vorto asked. I pointed to it. It was sitting straight on a rocky ledge, rain water dripping into it. De Vorto flitted around the bottle a couple of times, his form glowing brighter for a few moments. The doubt I had was slowly becoming a certainty. He was lying to us about not being able to wield his power in this form. He looked at me, and said, “Weave. Take us to where this will port us.”
We huddled around the bottle again. De Vorto was inside, of course. Once again, I initiated the teleport, and another crack later, we were in a new place. More importantly, a dry place. One that wasn’t buffeted by wind. One that was still cold, dark, and rocky. But it was much better. We were in a cave of sorts and I could see the rain through the opening. It smelled damp and it was still really cold. But without the rain, the cold wasn’t as much of a challenge.
I brought up my favourite fireball spell and set up a self-sustaining bonfire floating a couple of inches above the rock, right at the entrance of the cave. That would keep any wild animals out, and also not suck all the air from inside the cave. I crouched beside it, drying and warming myself. Slick smiled at me and gave me a thumbs up, and proceeded to do the same. De Vorto looked at us, and shook his head. I guess wordsmiths were made of tougher stuff 500 years ago. Right now I was glad I didn’t have to live up to wordsmith machismo. I could be a delicate thing and shiver. Slick was pretty much doing exactly that too. A moment later, I realised that De Vorto had disappeared. For now I was glad to let him go. I could do with some rest, even if it was in a cold cave.
“You think this is his valley?” Slick asked, warming his hands in front of the fire.
“Careful,” I said sharply. “The fire is hotter than it looks. It’s not your standard wood fire.”
“Believe me, I know,” Slick said, grimacing slightly. I remembered the fireball incident and grimaced myself. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to be him, walking into that situation, and being attacked like that. It was incredible that he had managed to deflect the attack like he did. It said something of the innate skill and power that he had. I didn’t know how much of that had been him and how much De Vorto. I didn’t want to think about that now. I was just glad that I hadn’t hurt him. Time to change the topic, and I gladly latched on to the question he had asked.
“I don’t think this is the valley. I think this is some kind of a safe spot nearby. He has probably gone to scout ahead. How long has it been, 500 years?”
“Not quite. More like 400. A little more,” Slick said, carefully warming one arm and shoulder, trying to dry himself out. “I think he went into stasis or magical sleep or whatever around 1599.”
“Well, I’m not sure what’s happening around these parts. The place looks deserted enough. I was half afraid someone had built a mall over whatever hole he had concealed himself in.”
Slick chuckled at that. “Yes, I thought about that myself, but decided not to raise it.”
“Well, you are plenty rude to him. I didn’t think you watched what you said while talking to him.”
He grimaced as he hurriedly pulled a smoking corner of his shirt away from the fire. “Well, you know how he is. And it wasn’t fun having him inside my head. Also, I think my defence mechanism to stress is to become more the comedian.”
“More the bad comedian, you mean.”
“You know, you’re plenty rude to me too,” he said, giving me a tragic look.
I didn’t bother responding to that. I was warmer and it was almost nice inside the cave. I saw a fog rolling by the entrance, sizzling against the fire as it tried to work its way inside. We would be alright here. Actually, we’d be just fine. If De Vorto was right about that teleport being untraceable, we had just bought ourselves some safe time. And I really could use some time to just lay back and rest.
I leaned against the rock and rested my head on a convenient ledge. “I’m getting some sleep, Slick. I suggest you do the same. Knowing De Vorto, we have some excitement lined up over the next few days.”
Slick nodded and leaned back himself. He was staring into the distance, like he did ever so often. After a long, quiet moment, he called out.
“Dew?”
“Mmm...?”
“You think we’ll get out of this alright?”
I didn’t know what to say to him. I wish someone would answer that for me too.
“I hope so, Slick. Sleep now. Good night.”
After a long pause, “Good night.”
Both of us took a long while to sleep that night though. I tried to tell myself that it was the sound of the rain and the fog sizzling on the fire that kept us awake. When I finally did
sleep, I had nightmares of Papa Loon coming after me with his knife.
CHAPTER 15
Back to the Beginning
The chase is afoot
Pursuers and fugitives unknown
The plot thickens
Questions still unanswered
But the end can always be traced
If you start right at the beginning
It’s one of those nights of absolute darkness. The moon is nowhere to be seen and the clouds prevent even the starlight relieving the gloom. All beauty is lost in a swirl of dark greys that barely allow the naked eye to discern one detail from the other. AJ Silvus has no such problems though. His scape-enhanced sight allows him to see everything, including the dark, lithe form that makes its way towards him. Finally!
Silvus can sense that Zyx is shielding from him. Whatever she is feeling or thinking, she doesn’t want him to know. He is irritated at the ploy, given how futile it is. He doesn’t break it down instantly, and waits for her to explain herself. She is his last aide at the Guild, and he cannot afford to lose her. Jimmy Sau was his right hand man and a big loss. That crazy elemental didn’t know just how much she had damaged his power base with her actions. Once this entire mess was done with, he would have to rebuild everything.
Zyx walked up the last few steps to the huge man and looked at him with one of her practised, mischievous smiles. Silvus continued staring at her impassively. Any reaction at all would only result in more games, more wasting of time. The best ploy was always to stare her out. A few moments later, her smile slowly changed into a pout, moving slowly from sexy vixen to spoilt brat. “Can we get down to business now?” Silvus asked, his voice flat, not betraying any emotion. Zyx considered continuing with the charade for a moment, but then dropped the idea. Her features re-formed themselves into a plainer but far more efficient version of herself.
“He’s here. I’ve managed to get a scape signature confirmation. It was the Free wordsmith, the girl. And he is with her. I am unable to get a lock on their exact position, but Skye it is.”
“Good. We need to flush him out, then. What do you have planned?”
Zyx looks at him, trying to read his dead eyes. “Silvus, you know that the CCC will shut down the Guild at the slightest infraction. We cannot afford to…”
“I still am the Mastersmith, Zyx. You could try and acknowledge that when you speak to me.” There is a distinct surge of power at that. The temperature drops as the air frosts up around them.
Zyx’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry, Mastersmith. I was only…”
“Our priority is to hunt the boy down. I believe that is what the CCC is trying to do too. I think they will accord leniency to any actions that are directed at hunting that abomination down.”
Zyx lowers her eyes and tries not to show any reaction to the innate hypocrisy in Silvus’s words.
“So, I ask you again. What have you planned to flush him out?”
Zyx takes a deep breath and speaks, “Mastersmith, I’ll unleash the spooks. They should be able to lock on to him the moment he does anything at all with his gift. The slightest flare, and they’ll be all over him. They might not do much damage, but they’ll give us the sign we need. I’ll tie in a notification spell to the both of us, and we can move in quickly and hunt him down.”
“Good!” Silvus purses his lips as his eyes light up in anticipation. “That is a good plan. I’ve got a couple of surprises up my sleeve for that boy. He might have caught Zauberin and her gang by surprise, but we will get him, Zyx. And there still might be hope…”
Zyx freezes as she hears the words. He still hopes to capture the gift, to become the Wordscapist! There really was no end to the man’s madness. She smiled. That was exactly what she loved about him.
Slick
The morning made everything feel a lot better. For one, everything was a lot prettier. The rain had stopped, the bone chilling cold making way for a pleasant, cool wind. The fire was gone and I didn’t miss it too much. Dew and De Vorto were nowhere to be seen. They had let me sleep, and I was grateful for that. The rocky cave we were in hadn’t offered many comfortable options, but I’d managed somehow, between a rolled up jacket and a couple of smooth rocks. As I stretched and walked out, I realised that I wasn’t limping either. My leg did feel much better, almost completely healed. I tried a few test kicks and everything worked well. A fine day indeed!
I felt the pulse at the back of my head, the surge of power that was waiting to be called. I wondered if that had something to do with how quickly I had healed, like one of those vampire or werewolf creatures in popular fiction. I wondered how I would fare before garlic or silver. Silver I could stay away from, but I really did like garlic. Maybe super wordsmiths had other allergies. I wouldn’t mind being allergic to pumpkins. I wasn’t fond of them. And I didn’t see how anyone could wear a string of pumpkins around their neck.
I pulled myself out of that silly reverie. Everything was different alright, but today I almost felt like I could deal with it. Almost. I clambered out of the cave and saw a wide expanse in front of me. It was a pretty place, provided you found rocks pretty. The fog was moving in and out of the rocks, adding a certain mystery to the scene. That was when I noticed Dew.
She was standing very still barely a few feet away from me, staring out at something in the fog. Her body was tense and her scape sign was up. It was alive and flaring, ready for action. Something was wrong! I sensed movement above me and saw De Vorto hovering nearby, motioning me to stay still.
I looked carefully at the thick fog, trying to make out what it was that had spooked these two so much. I couldn’t see anything. I shot a mental thought at Dew, “What is it?” Just one word came back. Faeries! I could barely believe I’d heard her right. I squinted into the fog, trying to see what they saw. A moment later, I saw them. Almost unconsciously, my mind brought up faint words that cleared my vision, revealing the forms that were walking - almost gliding - towards us. Damn it, I had to stop doing that. My mind was racing ahead on becoming a wordsmith, and De Vorto had warned me that it was dangerous. They moved closer until we could see them clearly. Their forms were still vaguely blurred, but I doubted that had anything to do with the fog. I stared at them, trying to see them for who they were. These were Sliverette’s kin, her folks. That was definitely not a comforting thought.
It was difficult to describe them. At first glance, they looked like a clutch of young, pretty, pale people. There was a sort of vague beauty to them, pleasing at a subconscious level. But no one feature stood out, no strong characteristics that made an impression and stayed. Then I looked more closely. I thought about Dew’s lessons on glamours, and focussed hard on seeing what really lay beneath. That generic beauty was just the surface. Slowly, the illusion faded, and I could see more. Much more.
They were the faerie. There was strong magic in them. There was the history of hundreds of years and experiences I could scarcely begin to imagine. I could see all this and more, through flashes of reality that buzzed in my head and settled into my consciousness. The most disconcerting thing however was the complete lack of empathy. I felt their eyes on me and I could see that they did not really feel the way humans did. What was precious to me was nothing to them, and they could, without a thought, destroy my world. They were the faerie, and they were very dangerous.
They spread out, making themselves comfortable. There was one leaning on a rock, another who effortlessly leapt onto and perched atop a huge boulder, others who just sat where they stopped. They looked like this was home to them. Maybe it was home to them.
One of them stepped forward, looking at De Vorto. It looked like a woman. Not as tall and real as one, but somehow close. She was bigger than De Vorto though. I had definitely got my faerie dimensions wrong when I wove his form. But he was hovering at eye-level, drawing himself up, looking a lot bigger than he was. I don’t know how he did it, but he was on my side, and I was glad he did.
They stood and looked at each other for a wh
ile. I guess there was some telepathic conversation happening. It went on for a while. Dew and I waited tensely to see what would happen. Her scape sign pulsed, indicating its readiness to do anything she willed it to. I almost unconsciously brought mine up. Mine was more ice than fire, but it felt warm to my touch. I plunged my hands into it, and waited. I didn’t know what it was I could do to help, but I was ready.
As my warp came up, the faerie woman shot me a look, and then looked right back at De Vorto. He turned to look at me and frowned. He turned back to her. This was getting frustrating. I wanted to know what the conversation was about. Dew was glaring at me too, and shot me a few choice telepathic epithets. I did not respond, focusing on keeping my warp stable. This looked like a situation where taking risks was justified, and even necessary.
De Vorto suddenly spoke aloud, “I want these two to know what is being said.”
The faerie’s eyes widened in a comically exaggerated imitation of surprise.
“You speak their tongue,” she said haltingly in a lilting voice.
“I am not here to play games, Aeiea. I am here to retrieve my body.”
“But then there would be two of you, Alain. We cannot allow that. Not after you abandoned us in our direst hour of need. Not when you wrought the harm you did, all alone. Not when the new one barely understands how to ride the storm within him.”
It was a long speech, and she took some time getting through it. I could barely understand her, and the content itself didn’t make much sense either. I just waited, warp in hand, for the hostilities to begin.
“I cannot help the boy unless I am restored, Aeiea,” De Vorto snapped, “I need my body for that. Without my host, I am a mere shadow of my former self.”
“And why would I want that to change, Alain. Even as a shadow, you are a threat to the fey. This new threat you have brought bears chaos within that might tear our world apart. Yours even. And you want us to help you?”
Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1) Page 24
