Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1) (39 page)

     I decided to act obedient for a while. Everyone needed to know what was happening, especially the CCC. So, it made perfect sense for me to answer all the questions she had to ask. I also wanted to give her one more chance to redeem herself. I wanted to see if she would ease up on the cruel and violent act if I cooperated with her. Everything was going according to plan, and she looked like she might even consider letting us go unharmed. The message from the operator about the attack changed all that. She decided that she had to get De Vorto immediately. I did not know who was engineering the attack, but I knew that it was for me. I decided that I had played enough. It was time to get my act together.

     I let her finish her ominous sounding threat, and then gave her a succinct ‘fuck you’. At the same time, I whistled while mentally uttering a few select words, and summoned my old faithful. Sliverette was my first real scape, even if it had been with De Vorto riding shotgun. I had gone through the words in my head many times in the past couple of days. She was extremely powerful, but I knew I could control her if I tried. I had made changes to the scape that called her up, ensuring that the direction and closure were no longer problems. Now was the time to see how it worked out. I shattered the sugar bands around my hands and legs as I swung away from the table, just in time to avoid Amra’s quirt. I had a shield, but I did not want anyone knowing about it if possible. At the same time Dew also sprang from her table. The big guy with all the vicious tools coolly pulled out a scalpel and threw it at me. Halfway to me, the scalpel met Sliverette.

     Sliverette, version two if you will, was a lot more potent and focussed. I had shaped her to my needs. Her primary directive was to protect Dew and me, and to do whatever it took to protect us. I had woven a secondary directive that required her to follow my instructions and protect or attack whoever I directed her to. Her third priority was to protect herself from whoever was attacking her and to use appropriate defensive and offensive measures. Her final directive was to vanish until summoned again the moment I dismissed her with the word I had woven into her being - ‘soma’. I had tweaked the scape to ensure that only Dew or I could dismiss her. I had also put in a failsafe that ensured that all injuries she inflicted were non-fatal unless one of the directives required her to act otherwise.

    Whatever I had done worked admirably. Sliverette parried the scalpel, smartly twisting it around and sending it flying at Amra. Amra was in shock and just managed to duck out of the way. The tough man, Amra had called him the Yaqui, was a cool customer though. Using both hands, he kept throwing blades and different kinds of sharp things at the imp. Sliverette proved a worthy adversary. She darted and twisted in the air, parrying blades with blades, wrenching hammers and axes out of the air using her arms, throwing them back viciously at the Yaqui or Amra. The Yaqui used a blade he held to deflect each of the weapons coming back at him. I could see Amra duck and weave, using her rod to hit out at the flying weapons. She was also swearing luridly. I quickly murmured up a warp scape to slow down the action, just in case something flew my way.

“Slip into the folds of time

While leaving space unchanged

Unhindered by friction and body

View and move tenfold faster

Than all else around”

      I was just in time. A heavy blade flew at me, arcing lazily, slowed down by the warp I had created. The man had thrown one of his last weapons at me, hoping to cut down the source of all the chaos. Two things happened simultaneously as I summoned my favourite freeze spell. Sliverette flew to get in the way of the blade, and at the same time, Dew threw her trademark explosive spell at the dagger. The result was tragic.

     I saw Sliverette blown apart, hit by Dew’s potent spell. The blade that had caused it all, continued unhindered on its way to me. The time warp gave me enough time to get over the shock of Sliverette’s destruction and still freeze the blade, a scant couple of inches from me. It fell to the ground, a huge block of ice. I turned around to glare at Dew. She stuck her tongue out in a cute, rueful gesture, raising her hands in apology. Dew could disarm me better than any spell I knew of. I turned back to the CCC duo.

     I saw the man charging at me with what looked like an ice pick in his hand. I had let the warp scape slip. I did not need it anymore. I was pissed now. I thought up a ball of compressed air and threw it hard at the man even as he leapt at me. The effect was instantaneous. He was thrown through the air at a furious pace, exploding through a glass wall into the corridor that lay outside. I saw Amra duck under one of Dew’s explosions and dive out of the man-shaped silhouette left in the glass. She was definitely going to return with backup. I turned to throw another glare at Dew. I could not stay angry at her, but then I did not want her to know that. She grinned at me and punched me in the arm, “It’s ok! You can weave her up again. We did good.”

      I broke into a grin myself. We had definitely done well. We still had to break out of this place though. “Dew,” I cautioned her with a hand on her arm as she prepared to chase after Amra, “there is a team of people attacking this place. They are sure to be after our heads. Let’s go carefully. There are going to be fatal scapes flying all around the place.”

     “Copy that,” Dew gave me a quick pat, summoning a ball of warped air with a few words, another potential explosion for whoever crossed our paths. I bent to pick up one of the pieces of the broken sugar bands. I was curious to see how they tasted. I took a tiny bite. Not bad at all! I munched away, offering one to Dew as I walked out, stuffing more pieces into my pocket. She tasted it gingerly, her expression changing from suspicion to amazement. I quickly drew up a thoughtscape while she was still wondering about the candy, summoning a multiple freeze spell.

     I ducked to avoid the jagged edges of the glass, stepping through the hole in the wall and out into the corridor. The Yaqui lay on the floor on a huge clump of shattered glass. He was going to be out for a long time. I sent an ‘all ok’ telepathic to Dew, checking both sides of the corridor as I juggled the icy warps in my hand. I could not hold them for too long. I had to find someone to throw them at. On demand, one of the doors burst open and two armed men in camouflage outfits dove through. I did not hesitate. Two of the five spells I was juggling went out, leaving two man-shaped popsicles frozen in guerrilla attack mode.

     I could sense the outer fringes of Dew’s spell nudging me in the back. “Don’t get too close,” I threw the thought at her. I did not want another fiasco, with her spell exploding on me this time. I felt her backing up.

     It was time for the next entry. Out of the damaged door, I saw a monstrosity shamble in. It was a classic zombie, a couple of weeks into rotsville. It was armed with a broken baseball bat with jagged edges, already coated with a sheen of blood. “Sleeeeck,” it intoned, as it continued to me, waving the bat menacingly. It was the body snatcher, my old friend. I knew what this meant. Silvus was around. I quickly threw one of my spells at the zombie. It collapsed in an icy heap. At the same time, I sensed the Yaqui begin to move. I turned around and saw him getting up jerkily, picking up his ice pick. Oh shit! He had been dead, not unconscious; and the body snatcher had just switched bodies. The previously agile man now lurched, doing the zombie step, approaching me. An explosion tore through one side of the body, spinning it around. Dew! It stayed on its feet though, and kept coming at me.

     “Dew! Look out for Silvus. Keep the explosion handy!” I sent out the remaining two spells I had at the fresh zombie, instantly converting him into a stalagmite (you learn the terms if you’re into spelunking).

     The Free Word was here. Silvus was here. I didn’t have De Vorto to guide me. Getting out would not be so easy this time. I wracked my brains, wondering what to do. Too late, I had run out of time. The door on the other side of the corridor burst open spectacularly, toppling Dew and throwing her to the floor in a heap. “Dew!” I shouted, lunging towards her. I stopped instantly though, as someone walked through the shattered door. It was a huge trunk of a man, with a totem pole of a staff. He looked powerful and deadly. I guessed this was Silvus. Even before I could react, I sensed someone else entering the other side of the corridor. I moved right up against the wall so I could cover both sides. I felt my insides going numb. It was Zauberin. And she was looking pretty huge and deadly herself, with a spherical warp on her fingertips, its blue glow lighting up her face like that of an evil witch.

CHAPTER 19

Down the Synch

Blood and bone

Hair and flesh

The game of death

Has gruesome trophies

     The Yen come from worlds that are far removed from the ones they supervise. As powerful Continuum channelers, the Yen play a big role in keeping the many worlds connected to the Continuum in check. Wordsmiths, for all their power, don’t merit more than half a Yen. Yen Hito was assigned Earth and a couple of other potential worlds (that might manifest channelers at some point in time).

     Many looked on it as a punishment. It could have been some controversial decisions he made, showing leniency in dealing with those that meddled with the Continuum. It could have been his less than reverential attitude towards the Lirii. It could even have been the rumour that he was gifted with Lirus-Sight, a power that allowed him to guess the paths that lay ahead. But Yen Hito didn’t mind being assigned Earth. Yen Hito had made his peace with all that came his way.

     He wasn’t feeling very peaceful at the moment though. He was in the presence of an individual who had taken things too far even by his lenient standards. This man had caused flutters in the Continuum with repercussions that could barely be fathomed, even after centuries of study.

     “Tell me, Alain De Vorto,” the Yen spoke aloud, trying to keep his tone neutral, “why should I listen to you? Would I not be better off terminating you right now and be done with it? You have caused the Corps more grief than an entire era of wordsmiths put together.”

     De Vorto drew himself up to his full height, which wasn’t much in his current form (curse the boy!), “Yen Hito, I have appealed to you knowing your reputation as someone with a balanced and just view. A hearing is all that I ask for, after which you are free to take whatever decision you will.”

     “And you are here to appeal for your life?” Yen Hito asked.

     “I’m afraid the stakes are much higher, Yen Hito,” De Vorto responded, his voice grave. “I am here to appeal for the whole plane of existence we humans call Earth.”

The Historian

     I had never recorded something like this. It was an all-out war. It was cruel, merciless and completely insane. It was a massacre.

     We arrived under the cover of the night, the different groups spreading out into positions best suited to what role they were going to play. I was near the outer perimeter, catching the action on my all-purpose camcorder. Zauberin and Gaia spent a couple of minutes weaving up a mother of a scape that threw an isolation bubble around us. This ensured the norm police would not come rushing in at the sound of a veritable war within Glasgow city limits. It would also prevent teleports in and out of the premises, stopping CCC backup from arriving hastily and making sure the kids could not escape any other way. Once the bubble was in place, the attack began in earnest.

     The norm mercenaries went in full force, lobbing bombs and shooting at the security force around the building. The five wordsmith hunters were next, weaving explosive warps and priming them to explode the moment anyone not in the Free Word team came out. Isis and Wind volunteered to stay outside the bubble to deal with anyone who arrived through any other means. Smart choice. I was stuck inside to capture the bloodbath.

     I saw CCC guards mown down by a vicious combination of gunfire and deadly scapes. They were woefully under-prepared. But then, no one could have seen something like this coming! The mercenaries burst into the building and went on rampage inside. Meanwhile the wordsmith team finished setting the traps outside and followed the norms to provide backup and clean up after them. Zauberin and Gaia formed the rear of the attack. The Healer volunteered to stay behind and ensure that anyone coming out wouldn’t escape the trap. The Free Word didn’t want any surviving witnesses. I went numb at the sight of so many people being cut down by the relentless gunfire and scapes.

     Zauberin motioned me to accompany Gaia and her into the building. I hurried after, trying not to breathe in the dizzying stench of gun smoke, burnt flesh and blood that permeated the entire building. We made our way through the reception and the rest of the front office, stepping over and around dead bodies in CCC uniforms. I was running on autopilot, recording all there was to note, providing explanatory notes in a toneless voice. At one point, I saw a wounded survivor crawling down one of the corridors. Zauberin sent the poor chap a spell that completed what the first wave had left unfinished.

     Zauberin and Gaia decided to split at the landing of the first floor. The mercenaries and wordsmiths seemed to have done the same, leaving two diverging trails of bullet marks and burns all over the walls and furniture, not to mention a couple of the guards near the elevator. Zauberin gestured for me to follow her and as we walked down a long corridor, she summoned a particularly powerful spell that glowed blue on her fingertips. She was preparing for whatever she came across. I could only pity the kids.