Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1) (23 page)

    A murmur ran through the others at the words. Lonigan and Necros exchanged a look. I couldn’t understand what was happening. How could a cipher summon the faerie, no matter how gifted he was! One of the words being murmured reached me; Wordscapist! That’s when my mind finally completed putting two and two together. This was the man Sign wanted!

      “Kid,” Zauberin called out to the silent one, “I need you to go and set up a Sign scape for me, just as I taught you. Summon Sign for me.”

     There, that was the confirmation I needed! The Kid’s eyes widened in terror. He did not protest though, silently or otherwise, and quietly left the tent. It felt though like he left his silence behind. Everyone simply froze at the name of the elemental. There was no doubt about it now. This was the rumoured Wordscapist. I could see the shock in their faces, including cold-hearted freaks like Necros and Lonigan. The legend of Wordkind was going to walk into this room! 

     Akto hurried out and came back a few moments later with a young man. The cipher was undoubtedly young, and he looked petrified. A quick look around the room at all the people standing around staring at him only added to his terror. The young girl followed them into the room, quite agitated herself.

     “You say your name is Slick?” Zauberin asked in a voice that did not bode well for the young man.

     “Yes,” he said, his voice shaking, but still deep and firm. He was putting on a brave front.

     “Where did you learn to use your gift, Slick?” Zauberin asked, curious at this oddity; a cipher who could use his gift. The others were curious too. Wordsmiths were recruited at a very early age. Some however went undiscovered because of a latent gift and ended up as ‘ciphers’. Most ciphers usually lived out their lives as norms and were rarely discovered. There were some who would stumble onto their gift in an emotionally charged state. More often than not, the first use would involve a huge hole in the Continuum caused by an all too powerful scape, leaving behind the poor cipher’s smoking remains. Some would survive their first scape party, but would be immediately hunted down by the Guild and the CCC with extreme prejudice. A cipher that could use the gift and sustain it over time was rare. Silvus had been one such example and had made it into the Guild. However, he had since tightened Guild laws to ensure that all ciphers were executed, irrespective of how much control they had over their gift. The prevalent belief in the Guild was that anyone who could use his gift without following the set path was a threat to Wordkind. I did not know how the Free Word went about it, but in the current circumstances, the young cipher’s chances did not look too good.

     “I never learnt. This was the first time I’ve done something like this. I just happened to be in a tight situation where my fists could not rescue me. My life was at stake. I guess the gift just came to my rescue. I can’t explain it!” The young man went through his explanation quite calmly. But it didn’t make sense. The gift, as he put it, wasn’t a coherent entity that made choices like that. It just existed. It was indifferent to the state of danger the wordsmith was in.

     “The gift came to your rescue,” Zauberin purred, her eyes narrowing. “Go on, this is very interesting. How did you use this gift to summon one of the people of the mounds?”

     “The people of the mounds…I heard Dew say that too. See! I had no clue I was doing that. Maybe I’m possessed by the ghost of an old Scottish wordsmith or something! No?” He offered this tentatively, almost like a peace offering. Again, he was too convincing for his own good. Anywhere else, he might have pulled it off. But here, he was in a room full of wordsmiths.

     “I see you know enough to recognise the people of the mounds as coming from the Scottish fens. I guess this ghost is also educating as well as possessing you.” Zauberin’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Gaia chuckled at that, but no one else said anything. I threw a quick glance to Lonigan and Necros, but just got two very scary deadpans.

     The boy went silent, his brows knitting, his eyes glazing over, as if in deep thought.

     “Stop lying,” Zauberin suddenly snarled, making almost everyone in the room jump. Strangely, the boy didn’t react. “I need the truth! I know what’s happening with you! I know all about the change you have gone through in the last 12 hours! I want you to tell me! I want you to confess!”

     “No, I can’t do that.” the boy muttered, looking like he was speaking to himself. “Are you crazy!” he hissed, after a pause. Suddenly, his eyes focussed as he realised what he had said. “Oh shit!” he backed off a step as Zauberin’s hard features morphed into a predatory smile.

    “So, now you’re having conversations with this voice. Nice! So, is this voice teaching you to weave, Slick?”

    “No! I just stumbled into the words by luck!”

     “By luck!” Zauberin snorted in disgust. She turned around to look at Dew, who was watching all this with a look of horrified fascination.  “Dew, you saw him weave his scape, didn’t you?”

     “Yes, milady. I was there.” The girl’s voice was quiet and terrified. I couldn’t understand what was happening there.

     “Did he use the set path or any of the axioms that a wordsmith would use?”

      “No, milady. He wove completely freehand, like a master wordsmith would. His style was very strange though. He specifically summoned one of the aos sí (there was a buzz at these words. I did not understand them, but the wordsmiths did). He then assigned the faerie a name and form that was pretty unconventional and extremely dangerous. When I heard him weave, I thought he was just aiming to scare the norms who were attacking him. I was pretty surprised to see the entity coming to life. And moreover, I was shocked at the sheer power of the imp. But he did not know what he was doing, milady. It was obvious. He was screaming at it to stop instead of weaving a termination. That is when I realised that he was not a proper wordsmith. I stepped in and tried to stop it. I’m still training, but I threw a water spell at it. It worked for a while, but the faerie was too powerful. It worked through the element in no time and came for me. A fully charged battle wand didn’t help keep it away. And then, just like that, he called it off. With one power word. I didn’t know what to make of it.”

     “Thank you, Dew.” Zauberin vaguely waved the girl away and turned to the boy. The girl looked worried though, as if wondering whether she had condemned the cipher with her words. I realised that she had been trying to help the boy by trying to remove the suspicion that he was lying. She didn’t realise she had actually condemned him. She moved to a corner of the tent, trying to be unobtrusive, her hands twisting the ends of a scarf as she looked on fearfully.

     “Wordsmiths,” Zauberin called out to the others in the room, “Yesterday, AJ Silvus organised a group scape…the Wordscapist scape. I already sent you a missive with the essential details. He succeeded in creating the essence of the legend but could not control it. It broke free, and ended up elsewhere, inside a norm’s head,” she turned to give the boy a nasty look, “this norm’s head.”

     She turned to look at the wordsmiths again, “The Wordscapist lives in this boy’s head. Or he might be a Guild spy, an adept that Silvus has been hiding from us. Simple, innocent cipher he most definitely isn’t. There is no way an uninitiated cipher could have accomplished what he did. It is either extensive training or the gift of the Wordscapist. We need to know for sure whatever it is. And considering that he is definitely a hostile, whatever we find I propose a mindscape on this boy.”

      “No!” I heard the girl let out an anguished whisper. I could not help recoiling myself. A mindscape would destroy the boy! It was a terminal interrogation strategy, used only in the most extreme circumstances, a scape that helped a wordsmith scan another’s memories. It was used only on dying or condemned wordsmiths. I could see Lonigan and Necros exchange another look. I wondered what that meant. Zauberin chose to ignore the reactions around the room, and continued, “Gaia, you are the specialist. Please initiate one right away. Healer, please assist her.”

     Necros raised his staff, asking permission to speak. Zauberin nodded. “Isn’t that a bit extreme?” Necros queried in a strangely vibrant voice, “Close observation and some interrogation over a couple of days could get us the same information without destroying his mind.”

    I could see the look of terror on the boy’s face at Necros’s words. He had not known what a mindscape would do to him. What surprised me was Necros objecting to the idea. I might have expected one of the others (except Lonigan perhaps) to reject the terminal solution, but Necros would definitely have been my last guess. I would have imagined him to be delighted at the idea of a fresh body to work with.

     “I do not have time for soft methods, Necros. Sign has warned me not to use my gift for any other purpose. We have things to do. We shall find out right now what he is, and if he is the Wordscapist I will have completed my mission. I can then get on with helping you all start what will be the end of the Guild’s rule.”

    “Zauberin, he might prove to be useful. What Dew said; it would take a powerful wordsmith to just conjure up an aos sí from nowhere, without using any presets defined by the Way. What if he is not the Wordscapist? You might be losing a potential recruit.”

      “I’ll take that risk, Necros. Your protest has been noted. But then, you’re not the one with Sign watching your every move. Let Gaia start the scape. You will have a fresh soul to add to your kitty when she is done, probably two; one of them the Wordscapist.”

      “That was in bad taste, Zauberin. You should know more than anyone else that I do not use my gift with such careless abandon. I can clearly say nothing to change your mind. Your ways have always been a bit too bloodthirsty for my liking. And I am sure Mother Gaia will be glad to oblige.” He moved back, his expression neutral, but his heavily made-up eyes glowed with emotion.

     “It is strange that one who celebrates death should object to the taking of a life, Necros,” Gaia said, as she came forward. She made his name sound like something disgusting. But Necros was right. She did look completely unperturbed, and even cheerful, about the idea of the mindscape. Necros did not react to her words and merely looked on.

      The others did not offer any reactions. Dew started to say something, but changed her mind. She looked close to tears. Akto put a hand on her shoulder and whispered something, his expression stern. The Healer looked questioningly at Gaia, telepathically exchanging notes on what kind of help she would need. Gaia started muttering the beginning of the dreaded mindscape. I looked at the subject of the situation, the boy. He had closed his eyes and looked spaced out. I wondered if the scape had already taken hold. Gaia frowned as her words became more intense, her eyebrows knitted in effort. I could catch a few words, but Gaia was careful not to reveal all the words of her special scape. I could have checked the transcriber, but right then, I was frozen into immobility by what I witnessing. The boy was clueless to the proceedings, lost somewhere in his head. That is when I noticed his lips moving, ever so slightly. Could the boy be weaving a defence!

     Gaia seemed to realise this at the same time, and with a look to the Healer, moved closer to the boy. The Healer frowned and gestured with his hands as he upped the ante on what he was weaving. I saw the air around the boy warping as the conflict grew more intense. I could see Zauberin’s brows knit in concern at this turn of events. Lonigan had a faintly amused look as he leaned back and watched. Necros and the others looked curious. I could also sense worry in them at the growing power of the scape. This was bound to be close to the CCC limits. There was a sudden stillness in the air. With a rush the space-warp around the boy swooped into him. Just as I was wondering if Gaia had managed to get through to him, the boy opened his eyes and looked Gaia in her eyes. All the fear had gone. This was another person altogether. His hazel eyes glowed with a power and rage that seemed misplaced in one so young. I could only wonder at the transformation!

     “Stop,” he said; his voice deep and powerful. Gaia froze, her lips parted, her words stuck in her throat. And right there, in the midst of a warren of wordsmiths, he wove freely, the words coming out in an otherworldly rhythm…

“I return your gift to you, mother

Here comes your cruel scape

Back to you in all its glory

Let it wreak the havoc you had intended

Within you”

     With those words, he breathed an inaudible word. Gaia screamed. I could see the Healer wince as whatever entered Gaia’s mind sped its way across the mental link they had set up. He instinctively raised his hands, screaming out aloud, no doubt summoning the energy shield he constantly sustained around himself. For a long moment, everyone stood frozen at what had just happened. And then, slowly, Gaia collapsed right where she stood. That was the cue for the others as well.

     Zauberin rushed to Gaia, quickly weaving up what looked like a protection scape. I noticed that she took the long way around the boy, doing her best to keep her distance from him. Isis and Wind however, were not so circumspect. They rushed towards him. Chains stood back, furiously weaving something up, muttering under his breath. Lonigan and Necros just stood and watched, Lonigan amused and Necros satisfied and vindicated.

     The boy was ready. He quickly took stock of the situation and figured that Chains was the most dangerous. Chains was ready now, stepping forward to unleash whatever he had cooked up. The space warp looked pretty nasty, twisting and turning to form something that looked like a coil of live barbed wire. I saw Necros move as if to stop him, but someone else reached Chains first. “No!” The girl let out a scream and struck out at Chains. The delicate looking man collapsed in a heap as her fist connected with his jaw. Akto looked shocked at the girl’s rebellion. The boy turned around and took the sight in, and then gestured to Isis and Wind, who were almost upon him by now, his voice clearly weaving, but the words, unusual and unorthodox;