Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1) (43 page)

      This did not make sense! Why would De Vorto weave a scape that would lead to Wordkind’s annihilation? Before I could make sense of what was happening, the rune exploded, sending a bolt of flame at Lorna. I could see her wreathed in flames, but she did not move. There was no pain in the memory. I could make out De Vorto screaming and shouting, throwing spell after spell at Lorna, trying to extinguish the flames. But she continued burning. I could see the effect the flames had in her head. Her identity and her memories were being burnt away, one after another. I guess that is why there was nothing else left to hunt for in that mind. I wondered how this memory had survived. Just then, one of the spells broke through, and the flames died. Lorna had changed completely by now. I could see the familiar alien and cold perspective that I recognised from the rest of Sign’s experiences. The transformation was complete.

      De Vorto withdrew in horror, unable to come to terms with what he saw. I could see the sheer terror and misery on his face.

     “You should not have interrupted the scape, wordsmith. You will pay for that.” I recognised the cold, alien voice from my own memories.

      “What…what are you?” De Vorto sobbed, “Lorna!” There was sheer anguish in those words. Somehow, the little caricature of a man who was De Vorto to me did not seem capable of such intensity. It wrenched me to hear the pain in his voice. In a weird, detached way, I felt empathy for his situation pouring into my mind.

      “Lorna?” Sign’s alien voice could not have contrasted more with the sheer intensity of all that was human about De Vorto. “I am Sign, wordsmith, the scourge of Wordkind. And I begin my hunt with you.” With those words, she let out a battle cry that sounded a lot like my friend the demon’s shriek. From the warped air above the altar, her four cats leapt forth. I was caught in a horrible fascinated paralysis, and all I could do was stare like a horror film aficionado at the events unfolding in front of me.

     “Run, De Vorto!” I whispered, though I knew that there was no point. This was a memory. And I was as helpless as the movie-viewer I had likened myself to. I drew comfort from the knowledge that De Vorto had survived. I tried to find reassurance in that thought, but could not. I saw the beasts stalking De Vorto, creepy in their feline, predatory stealth. He just stood there, staring at the unrecognisable woman he had loved. I saw the anguish on his face slowly morph into ugly rage. “The Lirii!” he almost screamed, “They betrayed me! The scape was to create an elemental that would guard Wordkind, protect it from the ones who misused the gift!”

      “You are delirious, wordsmith. Come hither. One touch should remedy that.” I could see the evil smile in Sign’s mind.

       De Vorto stumbled towards Sign, in some kind of a dazed trance. He was muttering to himself in grief-stricken delirium. “No!” I screamed. It made no difference. The memory progressed as it had transpired.

      Sign reached out to touch De Vorto as he came within her reach. He looked up, his expression clear, all traces of delirium gone. He spoke the termination to the scape, distinctly,

“Your form encased

Your actions redundant

You cannot advance or leave

Wait elemental

And stay your pets

Till my command sets you free”

     I smiled as I recognised the logic and structure of the words. It was my freeze scape! For some vague reason, it felt good to know that he used something so similar. I wondered what he had been muttering before. I was soon distracted by the instant fury I felt flaring up in Sign. But she was frozen, and so were her cats. There was no flamboyant crackling of ice that usually accompanied my scapes, but it was just as effective.

      I saw a fleeting moment of soft emotion on De Vorto’s handsome face as he watched her frozen form. And then it stiffened into cold resolve. He spoke the rest of the scape he had woven, “You shall be blind to Wordkind, elemental. Only their deeds will you see, and those too, only when they harm the Continuum. At all other times, you will flounder in your search, unable to sense the most powerful wordsmith even if he was right in front of you. I have exhausted myself with all that I have wrought today, and it is time to rest…for a long time. I shall come back though. I will come back to see whether you have strayed from the path I have set you. And if you have, beware elemental. I shall terminate you. I shall know no mercy when dealing with you, even if the form you inhabit is someone I loved very much. And yes, if your masters stop by, do tell them that I will hunt them down too. I will come back and I shall hunt every one of those purple-eyed monsters. Until then, they can try and contain Wordkind to the best of their ability. All the cached scapes I leave behind should keep them busy while I’m gone.”

      With those words, he turned around and disappeared, leaving behind an extremely furious woman and four confused hellcats. Once again, the memory ended abruptly. I sensed it continuing on, but I could not follow it any further. The shielding here was much stronger. And it smacked of something extremely disturbing. I could sense something purple about it. The Lirii! I was extremely curious, and wished there was something I could do to unravel this puzzle further. But I did not have the time or luxury to try and weave any more holes. Sign was almost free from my scape. I quickly retreated and returned to my consciousness. Easier said than done, of course. I could feel the vicious intensity of the elemental’s consciousness trying to snare me, trap me inside her until she broke free completely. Yet there was a singular control to everything I was doing now. And strangely, I felt no fear at all. In an instant I was back where I should have been all along.

      I focused hard to shrug off the dizziness that came from an out of body experience. I saw the cats beginning to move, their muscles rippling against the remnants of the scape. Sign was almost through. I had to do something fast. I could not use the same scape again.     When the going got this tough, I usually got the pranks going.

      I collected Dew and started weaving a return scape. I retraced my path here, and opened the portal. Just before I stepped into the portal with Dew in my arms, I could not resist a look behind. The three cats were snarling and pulling at each other, their tails tied together with a combination of very effective sailor’s knots. This particular combination needed an anchor for stability. In this case, it was Sign’s neck that provided the anchor, and the elemental was furiously trying to quell her cats into submission before they wrenched her neck off with their desperate attempts at escape.

      I caught her eye for an instant and she snarled at me, for that one instant looking every bit as feline and predatory as her cats. I gave her one of my most charming smiles accompanied by a cute little wave of the hand, and then stepped through the portal, leaving the snarling party to sort out their situation.

***

      Perspective is indeed everything. It felt like a horrible eternity, caught in the perverse domain of Sign. I could still feel the salt from the metaphorical ocean burning my lungs with every breath. I had been escaping certain death at the hands of murderous wordsmiths, only to land in Sign’s clutches. And now I was walking right back into the wordsmiths’ trap. Yet having survived Sign, fear was no longer clutching at my throat. I felt calm, nonchalant even. I still obviously had no clue what I was going to do. The situation was still dangerous and potentially lethal. But at least it felt good approaching the problem in a positive frame of mind.

     Not that I had much time to approach the moment. Things had changed in the split second I had been away, but not much. It was a smoking ring of mayhem. Zauberin was on the floor with a podgy man I had seen behind a camera earlier lying squarely on top of her. Silvus must have dived to avoid the smouldering line marking the walls like a waterline left by a wave of molten lava. The cat that had leapt into the sphere was nowhere to be seen, though Sign did let me know that I had destroyed one of her pets. I presumed that had been the pet. With pets like those, her temperament was becoming less surprising.  

     Very briefly, I let the pieces fall into place. The two spells had converged as planned in my li’l ball of nothing. There had been a mega explosion that left a burning streak across the walls. Both Silvus and Zauberin looked like they had escaped the destruction mostly unscathed; Silvus with the help of his own alacrity, and Zauberin with some help from a podgy man. The point was that both of them were recovering from their respective dives to the floor. I had a fair idea of what they would try the moment they came back to their senses and feet. There was not much time. I bent down and laid Dew gently on the door that Silvus had flattened during his spectacular entry. It had been softened up a bit by the recent explosion, but was not smouldering like the rest of the place. I breathed a protection spell around her even as I placed her in the most comfortable position possible in such circumstances.

      Now, to business, Silvus and Zauberin business. It was obvious that the main danger lay elsewhere…the purple tinge...the Lirii. I had heard some things about this mysterious race from Dew, but De Vorto would never acknowledge their existence or admit he knew anything about them. I was not surprised. From all that I had learnt, they were clearly a remarkable sore point with the little guy. Actually, the big guy! I did not even begin to understand all that the man had been and had done. But at least, I would not make the mistake of underestimating him anymore. Never again.

      I shot a quick mind probe at the two dazed wordsmiths as they got to their feet. I needed to check a hunch I had before I started off on the insane plan that was beginning to take shape in my head. There was a sudden rush of information and impressions. Silvus was the classic, psychopathic megalomaniac. He would be easy. Zauberin was just plain crazy; a wannabe filled with hate and petty ambitions. Petty or not, disgusting or not, these two were still incredibly dangerous. But the hunch checked out just fine. These two hated each other far more than anything they felt for me or De Vorto. And that’s what I needed.

      Zauberin had been swearing pretty fluently at the man lying prostate on her. He was hastily and awkwardly trying to get off her. Silvus was slowly coming to his feet with the help of his staff (which looked a little worse for the wear after the explosion). I could see shreds of wood veering away from the main line of the staff, much like a discarded piece of driftwood. But it still managed to bear Silvus’s considerable weight and he made it to his feet.

     I could read rage and fear in their faces. They did not understand what had happened. They knew that there had been an intensely destructive explosion here and could not imagine how I had escaped instant vaporisation. They did not know about me ducking out for a swim.

       What’s the plan, Slick? What’s the plan? There was a plan. But I needed some more time. I could feel the thoughts in my head weaving up a scape that defied description. I had no idea where it was going or what it was supposed to accomplish. With hindsight, I would figure it out. I was flying on instinct. And instinct told me that I needed time. Silvus raised his staff, his lips moving in some damned destructive incantation. Zauberin mirrored his efforts, but only with her hands. I raised my hands and thought up two showy but relatively cool flames in my hands. And with the impressive blue-green flames in my hand I shouted, ‘Stop!’

     This time it worked.

      Silvus and Zauberin stopped and stared. The flames were no big deal, but they had noticed that I had not moved my lips. They had figured out that it was a thoughtscape, however illusive and non-threatening it might be. And even the newest rookie on the Guild rolls knew that a thoughtscape would beat a breathscape every single time. The threatening glows on Silvus’s staff and between Zauberin’s hands died out. I had managed to stall them. What next?

     Talk, Slick, talk! I was going to be talking for my life.

     “Wordsmiths, halt!”

     “I’m the Mastersmith, you prat!” Silvus growled.

     He had done something even with that insult; words woven into speech to suck at my very existence. An impressive trick. However I was beyond such petty tricks. I had opened myself up to the chasm within. I felt the energy flooding me. It was a risk, but I needed it all now.

     “Mastersmith, then,” I conceded. I was feeling generous. “And leader of the Free Word,” I added before Zauberin could add her two-bit protest. I saw the frown on that classically beautiful face, but she said nothing. I went on before she could say anything, “What I had in my hands can wipe both of you out in an instant. As you’ve now realised, I weave with my thoughts, and there is nothing you can splutter through that will save your exalted hides before I could tear you apart.”

     “You…!” Silvus started.

     “Not a word, Mastersmith! Not a word! For your own good!” And at this, I made the flame flare a little. It worked. His face went a shade of puce that was interesting and comforting. I like to have my enemies as scared as possible. I do not like killing people, but I love scaring them!

     My hands were beginning to ache and the flames were getting warmer, despite a constant thought to sustain them at body temperature. Something that looked like a flame had to get hot to sustain itself, or it would just end up with a harmless phosphoric glow. I had to make this quick, or my bluster was going to come to a messy end.

     I could easily imagine up a simple death for both of them. There was also a chance of one of them could conjure up something deadly before snuffing it. I might manage to duck or weave my way out, but Dew was lying unconscious, and nothing was worth risking her safety. And did I mention that I don’t kill people? Not even Silvus and Zauberin. In all honesty, at that thought, I was tempted for a moment. Just a moment.

       “Let your egos out for a short walk and consider the thought. I can actually kill you. You might manage to throw something at me before you buy the farm, but buy the farm you will. And probably kick the bucket while you’re at it. The point is that there is way too much risk here to consider. Now I know of your pact with Sign. The good news is that I have sorted things out with her. From now on, she and I will dance alone and you guys can opt out of this ballet. So you do not have to kill me. Understand?” Before either of them could say a word, I went right on, “Actually, that was rhetoric. Don’t bother replying. You can check with Sign the next time she comes down for a visit. While you guys were trying to dig your way out of the spectacular explosion you created, I was away in Sign’s charming world, parlaying with her.”