Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1) (24 page)

BOOK: Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1)
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“To a time and place in my head,

You will retreat,

Go!

Now!”

 

     His words were calm, and the effect was electrifying. There was a huge crack that left my ears ringing, and Isis and Wind disappeared. “But he did not specify where!” The thought came to me as I wondered how someone could just port others around him; accomplished wordsmiths at that!

      Akto, had been shocked by the boy summarily dispatching senior wordsmiths. But seeing the girl attack one of their own startled him into action. He yelled at the girl, grabbing her and shoving her aside. He moved fast for his bulk, flicking out a huge knife, lunging for the boy. There was murder in his eyes.

      This was insane! For some reason I did not really understand, I wanted the boy to win. I could not bear the thought of harm coming to him. And while I doubt I could have done anything at all against an armed and crazy gypsy, I blindly stepped forward. Luckily, before I could get involved in the proceedings, someone else jumped in. It was Necros this time. The leather-clad wordsmith brought his heavy ram-topped staff down sharply on the norm’s head – Akto fell heavily, his knife clattering to the floor.

    “Well done,” Lonigan applauded the move, clapping his hands gently, hugely amused by the proceedings, “I never approved of mindscapes. Direct methods are so much more fun!”

     The boy looked around, nodding at Necros and Lonigan in acknowledgment of their help. His eyes then flicked over me, nodding once again, as he saw I meant him no harm. There was something in those eyes that was scary and hypnotic. At the same time, I saw something that made me want to follow him, recording every move of his with all my historian capabilities. Here was a boy who would do big things. I did not know what yet, but I was sure I would hear about them. The boy turned to the girl who was staring alternately at Chains and her hand, a trickle of blood running down her knuckles.

     “We should leave,” the boy told the girl. The girl was close to hysteria at what she had done. He gently took her hand and closed his eyes. They disappeared with that unnerving port noise.

      I looked around. Chains was coming to his senses, gingerly rubbing his jaw. Necros picked up his staff and walked out calmly, with Lonigan ambling out next, like they had just finished seeing a movie that had come to a satisfying climax. Zauberin was muttering furiously, battling with the scape set loose in Gaia’s mind. Gaia herself was unconscious. The Healer looked stunned and half scared to death, but it looked like he had managed to repulse the scape before it had reached him. Isis and Wind were nowhere to be seen. I wondered where they had ended up.

      I turned to my equipment, mechanically checking everything. I was in shock myself. I had been watching the boy closely when he had teleported with that girl. He did not have a rune with him and neither had he said a single word. He had still managed to teleport, and also had taken another person with him. I checked the video records again for good measure. His lips had not moved. A thoughtsmith! I checked the CM. 153. Too much, by far, for one wordsmith. There was no doubt now. He was the Wordscapist!

 

 

 

CHAPTER 11

 

Freefall

 

Think…when something must be reasoned out

Feel…when the emotion comes

Act…when it is time to do what must be done

Let go…when in doubt

And freefall

 

Slick

 

     I opened my eyes and was instantly hit by the intense, debilitating pain. I let go of Dew’s hand and staggered a couple of steps before I keeled over and collapsed on to the ground. I curled up into a foetal ball, gasping as waves of agony washed over me. In the typical primal response to such pain, I shut out the world and tried to scream, but there was no breath left in me.

     “No words left”, De Vorto came through the haze of pain, biting and completely unsympathetic, “go on and rip out reality with a few more heroics. You will rip yourself out, that’s what you’ll do!” I did not understand. I did not care. I just wanted to die really soon so that the pain would stop.

     I rocked a bit, and tried to roll some, seeing if a change in position would help. It did not. The pain was not in any specific place. It was everywhere simultaneously. My entire being was in pain, and despite the lack of physical wounds it did not ease the sheer intensity of the agony. Just as I was about to give up and pass out, the pain slowly receded. Too slow for comfort, but definitely receding. I still did not dare try and move, but I could attempt something less adventurous. I let my eyes open from screwed up prunes to hostile slits, taking a gradual interest in where I was. That’s when I knew that I had managed to get it right. I had one thought in my mind when I had taken Dew’s hand and done it…done what?

     “Teleport”, De Vorto obligingly prompted, again, heavy with sarcasm.

     Yes, that sounded right. That’s what I had done. At first, I had teleported two of those wordsmiths away to Leh, a remote spot in the Himalayas (I could not think of anywhere further away), and then I had transported Dew and my own threatened self here. Here was a place from my memory; a place that was safe and that had memories of happier times, peaceful memories. It was lush green as always. I was lying curled up on the grass and moss that grew on the underground water tank, set in a hill in the middle of a jungle. My teleporting accuracy was bang on target, first shot. Well, second at least. I had no idea whether the wordsmiths had reached Leh alright. I did not remember Leh as well as I remembered this place.

     The pain had by now settled into a gentle ache that gave me enough courage to move and look around. I had tried to come here with Dew. I was looking for her. She was on her knees, staring into space, a few feet away from me. She was in some kind of shock. I was not up to picking myself up yet. So I let her be.

     I slowly raised myself on one elbow. My friend had a cabin nearby that our gang had visited. This was the place I came to, with its trees and lush undergrowth; a haven that was always peaceful, no matter how disturbed a state I was in. I looked at Dew but she was still in shock.

 

     It was then that it struck me. I was alive! I had just survived another attempt on my life, and I had repulsed some very powerful people. I raised my hands and took several deep breaths, just exulting in the feeling of being alive, having fought and won for my right to live. The sheer beauty of the place added to the joy.

     “Don’t get cocky, boy,” De Vorto’s voice sounded extremely pissed, “You got extremely lucky. You’re a novice. You need to respect the ether. You try too much and your body will dissolve into it, leaving nothing behind. I suggested teleporting for you, not for half of the Free Word!”

    I decided to ignore him for the moment. I still thought I had pulled off something incredibly cool! I spent a couple of minutes giving the place the consideration it deserved. The night rendered the thousand shades of green into a kaleidoscope of silver and black. The crickets added a peaceful buzz to the scene. I had gone to sleep in this place on lazy afternoons, surrounded by the fragrance of nature at its most vibrant. I had never imagined that I would come back here in these circumstances. But the sheer comfort of coming to a place I knew and loved helped me relax.

     I finally acknowledged to myself that I had been avoiding approaching Dew. I did not really know what to tell her or how to go about making her feel any better. I did not understand my life and the choices I had been making. In such a state talking to someone else was a little difficult. But then words were what I specialised in. I could do this. I braced myself and walked towards her. I decided what I would talk about and knelt in front of her, putting on my most empathetic expression.

     “Don’t even try it, Slick,” Dew said, her hand right in front of my face, stopping me from speaking or coming closer, “I have had enough of your bullshit. I will talk to you when I am ready, and you have some serious answering to do. Right now, I need some time to figure out what the hell I have done with my life and where it stands. Until I have done that, I would appreciate it if you would just leave me alone.”

     She said the words in a monotone, but it was obvious that she meant every word of it. I nodded once, and got up and walked off, trying to build up a huff. I couldn’t. What she had said made perfect sense. I couldn’t really argue.

    “You’re pretty stupid, trying charm scapes on a wordsmith.”

    I do not know how a voice in the head can smirk, but De Vorto managed to do just that. More words that described what I did; charm scape. And when I most wanted it to work, I had run up against a wordsmith; someone who instinctively knew what I was trying. Irony! At times it tends to clean you out!

     I dug into my pocket and managed to retrieve a crumpled pack of cigarettes. I did not remember the last time I had smoked. All the adrenaline had completely taken away the urge. And to be fair I had not exactly been in the kind of situations where I could coolly light up. I was not really the type who could pull off that kind of thing when faced with people trying to carve me up or weave my mind into a puddle of goo.

      I made myself comfortable on a flat patch of grass and lay back, giving myself up to the pleasure of an indulgent and leisurely smoke. I could see stars and moonlight peeping through the numerous branches and leaves that formed an almost impenetrable canopy over the place. I could feel a strange fatigue in me; the kind that had nothing to do with muscles. I felt tired in places I did not know I could feel tired in. I had been using parts of me that I had never consciously used before. I had been using the gift. I decided that I was not going to stress about it. First, I would give myself up to the smoke. If by the end of that, Miss Know-It-All had not recovered from her nerves, I was going to take a nap. I did not know what I would do after the nap and did not really care either.

    The ability to sleep is a gift I’ve always had. A few minutes after cheating certain death I was fast asleep. I did not know how long I was out, but eventually I was shaken awake. I felt completely fuzzy and stoned as I slowly allowed myself to come to. I finally opened my eyes to the insistent shaking and calling of my voice. A pretty girl’s face was right over mine. I wondered who she was. The name slowly came to me; Dew. Of course! This was the girl I had shared two consecutive life-threatening situations with. How could I forget her! But I still did not appreciate her waking me up so rudely. I could sense that I had been pulled out of very deep sleep indeed, given how woozy and disoriented I was feeling. “What?” I managed to mutter as I raised a hand to acknowledge that I was awake.

     “There is a storm building. And it is really dark. We need to get out of here. I have no clue where we are. Considering you brought us here, I am hoping you do. We need to find some shelter while we wait out the storm.”

     “What?” I repeated, only half of her words managing to penetrate. She was extremely patient and repeated what she said at a higher volume. I finally understood. I propped myself up and looked around. What light there had been had disappeared. Flashes of lightning lit up the place in a spooky tableau, a different perspective each time. We were a few minutes away from a heavy thunderstorm. I quickly got up, trying to clear the cobwebs with a few vigorous shakes of the head. “My friends have a cottage nearby. If we hurry, we can be there before the rain starts. Let’s go.”

     It was rough terrain ahead and I offered her my hand. She raised an eyebrow. Right. That kind of conversation I could do without. I started walking down the path I knew would lead to the cottage. She followed me wordlessly.

     It was a hard trek through some heavy undergrowth and over the occasional moss covered rock. I did not turn back though. If the girl needed help, let her ask for it. I was not going to let her have the satisfaction of raising her hoity-toity eyebrow at me again. Almost vindictively, I set a fast pace, jumping from spot to spot, rushing through the heavy foliage. The weather was a legitimate excuse. I wanted to see just how tough this girl was.

     She was tough; very tough. She kept up with me right through. At a point where we had to trek upwards for a while, I ran out of breath very fast. Smoker’s lungs! But caught in my own game, I had to keep going, though I almost killed myself doing so. Pride does often go before a fall. It went pretty spectacularly. I tripped and fell, rolling down a steep slope, hitting every tree and bush on the way. I bumped and bounced and rolled until I reached a convenient ditch. This time the agony was very real. I had broken my foot.

     Dew rushed to the spot, a look of genuine concern on her face. She saw the state I was in, and soon that look was replaced with complete exasperation. I could not blame her. I had got us into a complete fix. And somewhere in that crazy rush, I had gone the wrong way. I had no clue where we were. I was in no state to go exploring either. I made a wry face and offered a rather pathetic sounding ‘sorry’.

     On cue, really fat raindrops started coming down in a rush. The storm was upon us.

 

CHAPTER 12

 

Discovering the Wordscapist

 

They were there, they say

They saw him do all that he did

They saw him be all that he was

They know him well, they say

And now it’s time to think

How well do you know them?

 

 

Amra

 

     Silvus had done a good job on the teleport. We could not fix a destination. But I was not overly concerned about that. With an all-points alert out for his scape signature, we would know the moment he used his gift. The CCC would have a fix on his location and my teams would make their way to whatever hole he had dug for himself. The problem with Silvus was that he was smart enough to anticipate this and use other wordsmiths. I had anticipated that too, and had put alerts on the signatures of all the wordsmiths he was likely to use for weaving in case he tried to go norm for a while.

BOOK: Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1)
11.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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