Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1) (31 page)

     “Esperanto, ah, I picked up a few words from the boy’s memory of the dead wordsmith’s notes,” De Vorto spoke, smiling. “It’s funny how my spells have survived and become a language all by itself.”

     “Andy da’s notes, yes,” Dew said pensively. “I forgot that you predate Esperanto by many centuries. Your name does translate pretty well in our language.”

     “Of the word,” De Vorto murmured, “Indeed. Nothing more, nothing less.”

      “But that’s the language I learned my smithing in, De Vorto,” Dew continued, after giving him a moment. “I cannot weave in Latin. I haven’t learned it well enough to weave in it.”

     “It’s all the same, my child,” De Vorto said, his smile cuddling the condescension in his voice into a soft, non-threatening tone. I had to learn how to do that. “Just speak the words, as you ride the meaning in your head. The same way you always do it. Your gift is strong and this spell will not tax you at all.”

     Dew opened her mouth to speak but De Vorto continued right on. “Moreover, it is a spell. It does not cause any harm till you cast it. And I will be watching, guiding you. If there is any hazard in it, I will not let you cast it. Beal?”

     “Deal, De Vorto, not beal,” I corrected automatically. I was his Wikipedia, and now I was his Urban Dictionary as well.

     “Deal?” De Vorto repeated without missing a beat.

     Dew looked at him searchingly, trying to see if this strange man was conning her into doing something dangerous.

     I decided to put in my two cents, “De Vorto, I don’t want to burst your bubble but...”

      He didn’t give me a chance to complete my thought. “Then don’t. We will get there, and we will find my body. If it isn’t usable, we will have to find another way.”

      I hated it when he did that, responding to questions in my head. How was it even possible, especially now that he was out of my head, all two inches of him! I nodded, however. There was no point fighting this, and I guess it was as good a plan as any. Mumbai was already a distant memory. We weren’t going back to Goa for sure. Pondicherry wasn’t going to be safe for very long. I guess Scotland was far enough to offer us some sanctuary for a while. And then there was haggis, of course.

      Dew picked herself and looked around.

     “I guess that’s as good as anything,” she said, walking over to the bottle of water left in the room.

     “That’s pretty smart, actually,” De Vorto nodded.

       “I don’t understand,” I said.

      “Well, he needs to be inside something considering he can’t really hold on. Otherwise we won’t be taking him with us,” Dew explained, even as she turned the bottle around, examining it.

      I was still not completely sure what was happening, but decided to keep quiet. I didn’t want to look any more stupid in front of Dew than I already did.

      She sat on the bed and started whispering a string of words, most of which I didn’t understand. I didn’t want to admit, even to myself, that I didn’t understand any of it at all. I watched her work as her scape sign pulsed and glowed, covering the bottle completely. A few minutes later, she looked up. “I’m done.”

      “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.