Wordscapist, The Myth

Trouble comes in threes they say:

The first one, a toothless hag called Misfortune;

The second, a child named Confusion;

And the last the deadliest of all,

A seductress by name – Panic.

She brewed it all up

And served a hot plate full of trouble

Dew

It took me a couple of minutes to collect my breath from the crazy chase he had led me through the jungle. The moment I was able to speak without gasping, I gave it to him, good and proper!

“You stupid, irresponsible, crazy, arrogant ass! Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, you had to go and prove that they could!”

He shifted uncomfortably, trying to move his rapidly swelling leg to a higher place. He looked guilty and quite stupid. That didn’t ease my anger though. A lot of it might have been frustration at where I was and what I had done an hour back, but that too was all because of him. I wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily, broken leg or not!

“Stop moving! And say something! You’re not getting away by trying to look sheepish and lost!”

He muttered something along the lines of “I don’t know who to respond to.”

I didn’t understand at first, and then it dawned on me. Zauberin had been talking about the Wordscapist and something about an entity in his head. Could it be true? Could that explain the twin presence?

“Let me talk to him,” I demanded, my hands on my hips. This was my moment to make the most of the advantage I had and find out exactly what was happening.

He went quiet for a while, almost as if he was having a conversation in his head. What I wouldn’t have given to listen in. As it turned out, there wouldn’t have been much to hear.

“He says it isn’t possible,” Slick muttered, his expression a little grumpy at having to play messenger.

“Great! Then have him heal you and fly out of here! I’m done with you! The Free wordsmiths will be here any moment. They must be tracing your crazy teleport even as we speak. If they don’t vaporise me instantly for going renegade, I’ll apologise, say you messed up my head, and go back to them. And soon enough, they will bring you in! This time, I will be cheering!” With these words, I turned around and walked away. I barely had to take a couple of steps before he called out to me.

“Stop! Give me a chance, will you! I’m trying to figure things out. And this voice in my head...I know you have a name! Alain…Alain de Vorto, that’s him. He’s not very cooperative...Ok fine! He’s quite helpful, but can’t really do much in this situation. He’s stuck in my head and he doesn’t have a body to go to.” He rushed through this, with pauses to address to the voice in his head. If it weren’t for Zauberin’s words, I’d have thought he was completely cuckoo.

“A body,” I thought about that one for a while. “Why doesn’t he use an animal’s body for a while?”

“That’s a good idea!” he exclaimed, and then after a pause, “apparently not.” He continued sotto voce, no doubt impersonating this De Vorto character, “It doesn’t work like that, and any accomplished wordsmith would know so. I need a coherent human or fey shape to be able to make this transition, and it needs to be willing or weak. If not, the possession will destroy its mind and then I will be left without a host and will then dissipate into the ether.” After another pause, he exclaimed, “Who speaks like that! Dissipate into the ether!”

“Makes sense actually,” I said thoughtfully, ignoring his reproachful look. “There is one more solution though. The esprit spell. He could use that to create a spirit, a shell that he could inhabit.”

Again there was a pause, and in the same irritating mimicking voice, Slick replied, “You expect me, Alain de Vorto, the Wordscapist, to inhabit a shell, a mere ghost without form or power? You expect me to leave behind my gift and capabilities in an untrained, stupid wordsmith?”

“Cipher, not wordsmith,” I automatically responded, “But what’s the point of staying put in his head? He doesn’t control his powers, you do. And at this rate, he will go insane and you will lose a host as well.”

There was a long silence at this. I could see that Slick’s features had set into hard determination. He didn’t like the prospect of going crazy.

Slick spoke after a bit, a lot more matter-of-factly, “He still doesn’t agree. But he needs to help me heal my leg, and he can’t do that while he’s in my head. Apparently, the pain has some kind of mental manifestation he can’t work through. Can you help me heal this break?”

I knelt beside him to take a look. I winced as I saw the state his leg was in. It looked like a bad fracture and was definitely not a pretty sight. “Let me see what I can do,” I said tentatively, “don’t expect any miracles though.”

I worked a healing charm for a few minutes. The words were simple enough. The moment I drew up my scape sign, I could see the flare of mossy green light around Slick. It felt even brighter so close up. I could see the flares of red that showed the pain he was in. I focussed on the spell. This had better work!

I felt the air around getting cooler and the moisture in his trousers frost up as the spell drew up energy to heal his injury. I had learnt the spell from Andy da who used it to heal a break in my arm after I took a nasty fall from my bike. It was definitely quite a painful experience. Slick grimaced and bore the pain pretty well. However, there was only so much that could be done in one go. And with everything that he had pulled off with the teleporting and the stunts before that, I didn’t want to push my luck. I stopped the moment I felt the spell drawing more energy than it should. The swelling had receded a little and his leg looked better. But it still didn’t look like he was capable of any kind of brisk movement.

Slick sat there with his eyes screwed shut for a bit longer. The pain took some time to dissipate, and then finally he opened his eyes and offered me a wan smile. “Much better,’ he said, a bit hoarsely.

“Good,” I drew back, a little hoarse myself from the effort of sustaining the spell for so long. “Now, let’s check if Mr. Wordscapist is fine with going ahead with this plan.”

Slick leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, bracing himself for a long conversation. I found a comfortable spot myself and waited. I still didn’t know why I was pushing for this. Maybe it was for my own sanity. I couldn’t believe everything that was happening. I needed to know this was real. I needed to understand. I was actively blocking out the memories of what happened back in Goa, how I had struck that creep Chains and how angry Papa Loon had been. I couldn’t deal with that yet. I continued to focus on the present and left that for later.

“He’s ready,” Slick said quietly. “He realises there’s no option. He also thinks you’re a smart wordsmith but a stubborn one. He would rather have waited, but then we don’t really have a choice. So let’s get started.”

Slick

I propped myself into a more comfortable position. My leg did feel a lot better, though the pain still throbbed with every movement I made. But it was a lot more bearable. With some effort, I could perhaps even manage to hobble around. But first, we had a separation to handle.

There was an extended silence for a while. Dew was at a loss for words now that we were getting down to it. De Vorto wasn’t too happy either. Finally, he spoke in my head, “I don’t know why I am doing this, but I think it is obvious that you trust this girl, perhaps a lot more than you trust me. In a twisted way, I guess it makes sense. I’ll tell you what to do. I shall speak through you and help you weave what she calls the Esprit spell. You will say the words, and then you will consciously will my presence to inhabit this spell. What you will see will seem much like a ghost. However, be warned that this separates us, but still leaves my gift and powers with you. All this while, I have been using my consciousness to guide you in your use of the power and stop you from destroying yourself each time you reached for it. You will have to go through a lot of preparation to stop yourself from exploding the next time you use your gift. My advice, don’t even try!”

Dew started to say something, probably assuming that I had spaced out again, but I stopped her with a gesture. I wanted De Vorto to finish. “It is a dangerous experiment, to say the least. But I agree that it will help you retain your sanity. And right now, that is pretty important. So are we ready to go?”

I nodded, without taking too much time to think. I was a complete chicken at heart and knew that spending time thinking about the risks would only mean I backed out of this insane plan.

“Alright then, tell the girl what we are planning to do and ask her to stay out of it and not go norm when she sees the spirit forming.”

I quickly told Dew about the plan. She seemed a little offended at the suggestion that she might freak out but didn’t say anything and merely nodded as I spoke.

It was the perfect setting for something spooky. There was incessant rain, thunder, lightning, thick forest all around and two scared youngsters to boot. And then I entered the zone. The words came in a rush. I was hardly aware of what I was saying. It sounded pretty weird and there was a bit of what sounded like Latin thrown in as well. In a couple of minutes, I saw a vague form appearing in the air, hovering much like a ghost would.

“Think of a shape, a form that you would like my spirit to take.”

In a flash, it was over. There in front of us was the translucent form of a faerie, a male one. He was pretty good looking, if you discounted the curls and the elf-like ears. His delicate clothing and translucent wings did make a pretty picture. It also did not help that he was just a couple of inches tall. His voice however was pretty much the same. This time it was audible and did not echo within my head. Moreover, he was feeling extremely vocal!

“You thought of a faerie! You have cast me in the image of a goddamned faerie! I am cast in a physical form after 400 years and it’s a damn faerie! And not even a real one at that! I look like something a bard would conjure up to entertain village folks! Are you out of your feeble mind? Do you know who I am? Do you even begin to understand what it takes to be me? A faerie?!”

At this point, I burst out laughing. I could not help it. There was something incredibly funny about seeing a man all of two inches high throwing a tantrum a mile wide. Dew was staring with her eyes wide open at this apparition. De Vorto got even more furious at my reaction, his form flushing a deep red, glowing with emotion. He flitted around, glaring at me. This continued for a couple of minutes; me in fits of giggles, trying to laugh without shaking too much; Dew staring at the glowing, translucent faerie that darted around like a hyperactive hummingbird; and of course, the faerie himself, De Vorto in a rare temper.

In time, I finally recovered. Dew did too, slowly. At least, she stopped gawping. De Vorto had not recovered. He was still very pissed and looked every inch of it. Well, two of them at least. At this thought, I burst out laughing again. Part of it was the sheer hysteria of the moment. Part of it was also an effort to cut out the stab of fear I felt. De Vorto was gone from my head, but I could still feel a presence in there. This time, it felt a whole lot more powerful and formless…And it exuded something that felt like pure evil. I didn’t know what it was about, but I wasn’t ready to find out yet.

De Vorto took some time getting over the shape he had to inhabit. In time, he did get to like it though, however much he denied it. He rather enjoyed the ability of flying about pretty much wherever he pleased. He also learned that he could become almost invisible if he managed to focus for long enough. This was pretty irritating for Dew and me because we could never make out when he was around.

Dew managed to further heal my leg, with De Vorto’s help and guidance. De Vorto did not trust me to use the gift and I was forbidden from trying the simplest of scapes until I started my training. Once the rain abated, we made our way to my friend’s cabin. The spare key was behind the decorative griffin on the veranda, as always. We made our way in and lit up the storm lamps. We would have to figure out the generator and the fuel before we could have electricity.

My leg still hurt a fair bit and I was cold and damp. So was Dew for that matter. De Vorto was waterproof, one of the many perks of his form. I limped to the kitchen, where I was glad to find a fully stocked kitchen with lots of canned foodstuff and, wonder of wonders, wine! I quickly fixed a meal of gourmet canned food along with a bottle of a modest rosé. Dew in the meanwhile had managed to dry her clothes using an iron she found. She had freshened up and looked as good as new. De Vorto was fluttering about, checking the place and muttering to himself. In the main room of that cottage I had my first date with Dew, with storm lamps instead of candles, De Vorto’s buzzing replacing violins, and thunder and lightning providing a lively ambience. The food was bland but the wine was decent. Dew was quite lost though, and apparently unaware of the inherently romantic setting. She was stealing glances at De Vorto who was putting up quite a show with his aerial acrobatics. I finally gave up on trying out soulful, intense looks and concentrated on eating.

Food and drink done, I settled in a corner with the mandatory after-dinner smoke. My packet had been soaked through, but my friend, ever the thoughtful one, had a carton as backup. It was pretty old backup and the cigarette tasted harsh, but any port in a storm. I gently massaged my foot as I smoked, wondering what was going to come. The presence in my head had settled down some, but it was there. Each time I did something difficult, which with a broken leg is almost everything, there was a flare of power in my head, an unspoken suggestion. I knew what it meant. It wasn’t using words, but it was pretty much saying...weave! It would be so easy to say a few words that would ease my pain, that would bring things flying to my hand, that would make me fly! These were crazy thoughts. I had to focus. I had to stay sane. No weaving! De Vorto had said I could blow myself up if I tried weaving. I didn’t want that. I went back to looking at Dew. At least that was safe. But she was lost in her own thoughts. I knew it wasn’t the food.

Eventually, Dew looked up, ready for conversation. I gestured to De Vorto to join us. There was a lot to talk about. Dew gave the cigarette a rather disgusted look and asked, “Do you have to?” I shrugged and tried to look sheepish. Nevertheless, I took a couple of quick puffs and stubbed out the cigarette. De Vorto came closer, running into a swirl of smoke. He went a shade of grey-blue and looked like he was choking. He recovered quickly enough to make me wonder if it had been a show. All of this from someone who had been an inveterate pipe smoker all his life! His new anti-smoking policy was quite irritating. Just my luck, to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with two virulent non-smokers.

Dew leaned forward and spoke, her expression serious, “First things first; where are we? I have not had a chance to ask you yet. We seem to be in a jungle of some sort.”

I was rather pleased with myself for having brought us here. “Yes, it is a jungle. This is one of the islands in the Andaman and Nicobar chain. We used to come here every couple of years. My friend owns a bit of land and this cabin here. I could not think of any place safer than this.”

“The Andaman and Nicobar islands?” Dew asked, her voice quite shocked. “And which island is this?”

I crossed my fingers behind my back as I coughed through the name, “Katchal.”

“Katchal?” Dew asked, the way she said it clearly indicating that she knew the name.

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my deadpan expression.

De Vorto wasn’t getting this, and was alternating between our faces.

“And how do we get out of this place?” De Vorto asked, an edge to his voice.

“Well, we teleported in. We can teleport out.” I said, wondering why De Vorto was getting worked up, though I could understand why Dew might be getting testy.

“Can you, Dew?” De Vorto asked Dew. She shook her head. “I thought as much. It takes an experienced wordsmith to manage a teleport. You, sir, got lucky with all you did, and it took everything I had to prevent you from exploding spontaneously as you did it. Now, I would not be able to do that anymore. And neither can you. So what are our options?”

I had a sinking feeling. I realised that I had taken a lot of things for granted. I lowered my head, wishing I could somehow hide my face between my shoulders. I gulped and muttered, “There is no other way. We will have to wait till someone comes here. And this time of the year, no one will.”

“I’m not surprised,” Dew said, gritting her teeth.

“Something I should know?” De Vorto asked, anger fighting with curiosity.

“Katchal was one of the worst hit islands when a tsunami - that’s a massive wave triggered by an earthquake - hit these parts.” I volunteered the information before Dew could say much. “The government is still rebuilding infrastructure here. Also, this place is closed to tourists, and there are only a few inhabitants.”

“What!” Dew and De Vorto shouted in chorus. I pulled my head in a couple more inches, wincing a bit.

“I thought you knew this, from the way you said Katchal,” I said to Dew, half petulantly.

“I knew about the tsunami, not about the rest of it. Is there no way to send word to your friends? A radio or something?” Dew asked.

“My friend has a Sat-Phone. But it is not here. He brings it with him when we visit. This place doesn’t have any kind of connectivity at all. It’s just tribal folk living on the far side of the island, and they are pretty hostile.”

“What is a sat fun?” De Vorto asked.

“Never mind, De Vorto. You have 400 years of catching up to do. We’ll explain things in time.” I said.

“No connectivity, hostile locals, Andaman fucking Nicobar islands! Brilliant! Well done, Slick!” Dew’s sarcasm was vicious, “You have been a peach all along. First you almost murder a dozen beach bums. Then you take on a warren of Free wordsmiths and antagonise them no end with all the fancy tricks you pulled off. Then you go and bust your leg with your stupid posturing! And now you bring us all to the back of beyond where we are stuck for I do not know how long! Congratulations!”

That did it. I had a pretty unpredictable breaking point. And this time it happened - I gave it back to her. “Thank you, Dew. Now please try and do something for me,” I knelt in front of her, looking her in the eyes, ignoring the pain from my leg. “Think about your life and everything about it that you hold dear. Take enough time while you think, so that you can remember all the little things, things that make you smile, that make you feel nice and warm inside. Think about everything you have worked towards, squirreling away precious baubles like an obsessive magpie. Think about those few things, those few people you would kill for.” I took hold of the cushion she was holding, and tugged firmly at it, pulling it away, continuing to speak, “Now…take all that away; each and every one of these things, these people. Take away the whole world you have got used to and mastered. Fill up all the emptiness left behind with pain, violence, confusion and fear. Replace all those you love and who love you with people who hunt you or try to hurt you. Now, put yourself in a world you do not understand. Twist and tear every little thing out of shape till you do not recognise a single thing about your life anymore.”

I let the words sink in, watching her eyes go all wide and serious. Ruthlessly, I drove the point home, “Have you done all this? Have you imagined how this would be? Now, let us look at the person you are. Are you the same person, Dew? Do you stay untouched, virginal white? Will you be able to stay true to all that you believe in? Will you be able to just get on with this new life and master all that is new? Would you be able to think sensibly and take the right actions in spite of all the insanity around you? Think hard and answer me honestly. Think Dew, before you pass judgment on someone else.”

I pushed myself up and hobbled to a corner of the room, standing before a window, looking at the storm that raged outside. There was an uncomfortable silence, but I was beyond caring. I lit up another cigarette rather vehemently. They could go stuff it if they disapproved. After a while, I felt a hand on my elbow. “I’m sorry,” I heard. It was Dew.

“The big guys who were standing outside the tent; do all of them work for your dad?” I asked Dew.

She was pretty confused at that turn in the conversation. “Akto is not my dad. I just call him Papa Loon because everyone calls him that. And if you mean the guards, yes. You saw Reno who was asked to guard you. There are two more.”

“Great. I just saw one of them peering at the cabin from between the trees. I think they have tracked us down. De Vorto! What do we do?” I looked around. De Vorto was nowhere to be seen. “Shit! Dew, turn off the lamps. Let’s scoot up to the attic. We can hide!”

Dew shook her head, her face pale. “They will just run a trace scape on me. They won’t have your signature yet, but they have mine. They will find us.”

I felt a clammy hand wrap itself in my guts. I hobbled to the storm lamps and turned them off. The room was plunged in darkness, except for the occasional burst of white from the lightning. “I’m assuming they traced the spot we teleported to. They must be hiking around, trying to see where we are. There are a couple more cabins around this place. These guys have probably split up to check the place. Tell me, is this guy a wordsmith?” Dew shook her head. “Good,” I said. I knew I could not use my gift, but I could use everything else I had. The presence in my head stirred and flared. But at least now there were no words. I focussed on the situation and ignored the silent urging within me to reach out for the gift.

I went to the closet and opened it, pulling out a small axe we used for chopping firewood. I was done running and hiding. I was going to take the fight to those bastards. I turned around and saw Dew kneeling, her eyes closed. She seemed to be praying. Well, we could always use a little prayer. De Vorto was still nowhere to be seen.

I went to the kitchen and let myself into the garden - the rain was sheeting down and I was soaked in a few seconds. I limped, trying to ignore the pain, sticking to the wall. I caught sight of a tree that would cover me. I made a quick dash for the tree and reached it just before the entire place was lit up by a flash of lightning. I hefted the axe in my hand and peeked out from behind the tree. I could see the courtyard in front of the house. It was deserted. It was then that I noticed the big guy next to the wall. He was making his way to the window, the same window I had been standing at a few moments before. I hobbled and skipped from tree to tree, jumping over rivulets of water and slimy patches.

I was in a different zone altogether now, completely focussed on the man and nothing else. He reached the window, and within seconds he was dashing for the door - he had seen Dew! I made a beeline for him, running flat out, ignoring the pain and everything else. He put his shoulder to the door and rushed into the house while I was still some twenty metres away. I came very close to giving into the desperate mental flares to try something wordsmithy. Instead, I took a deep breath and threw the axe at the door, hoping to get a lucky shot at the guy’s back. I was running behind on my axe throwing practice though and the axe hit the wall a good distance away from the door, clattering to the floor. I had no option now. I closed my eyes and drew on the power, waiting for the words to come. I could feel the presence swell and fill my mind. And just when I braced myself to say the words, I heard an explosion. I opened my eyes just in time to see the intruder come flying out the door to land with a huge splash in the muck right in front of me. I looked up at the doorway as Dew walked up.

“You think you’re the only who can do any rescuing around here?”

She had been weaving a scape when I saw her kneel on the floor. I felt pretty stupid after all the stunts I had just pulled in my panic. Relief washed over me. She was safe, and that was what mattered. As the adrenaline retreated, I felt the pain from my badly abused leg surging back. I limped to the door and almost collapsed on the floor.

“We cannot rest now. We have to go. There is someone with a CM out there and it is sure to have detected what I just did. They will be here in no time.” Dew pulled my hand and tugged.

I pulled myself up and went to the kitchen. I picked a bag from the storeroom and stuffed it with whatever provisions I could. I slung the bag on my back and returned to the hall. Meanwhile Dew had found a couple of jackets inside. Equipped as well as we could be, we headed for the door. I winced as I saw the state it was in. I was going to have to pay my friend for all the provision pilfering and the damage done to the house.

I saw the axe lying forlorn on the floor and left it where it was – I was likely to do more damage to myself than anyone else. I looked around for something I could pick up to use as a weapon. I saw a bamboo staff, thick enough to do damage and long enough to use as a walking stick. I picked it up, groaning as my leg complained when I leaned over. I wondered where De Vorto had gone off to, especially when we needed him the most. I nodded at Dew to indicate that I was ready. It was close to dawn when we took off into the jungle, the rain still pouring down.

It was a crazy trek through the forest. We jogged while I could, and walked when the pain got too much to bear. Dew kept muttering a healing scape that stopped the pain from completely crippling me. We did not stop though. We did not dare. I kept trying to send De Vorto telepathic messages. But I did not know if I was getting it right and whether they actually made it through to him. I found myself regretting the separation scape. At times like this one can even miss an insane voice in the head. I would have loved to have been able to teleport us all out of there to some other location where no one could follow us. I could feel the gift slithering in me, but it was too alien and way too scary for me to risk without De Vorto’s commands to guide me.

“Where are we going, Slick?” she gasped, leaning against a tree for a moment.

I stopped too, using my staff for support. The incessant rain was beginning to get on my nerves. I wanted to be some place where we could be dry and safe. Did I have a plan? I decided to cook one up for the moment. “There is a river nearby. If we can reach there and walk upriver to the tribal area we may find a find a boat. Then we can try and make our way to the nearest inhabited island - that is, one with civilised people living on it.”

Dew gave me one of her looks as I stumbled through the crazy plan. “Sounds good,” she said, “Let’s go.” And she took off again.

I stared after her incredulously. She actually thought the plan sounded good. It was complete suicide! I would have to think of an alternative before this woman actually started executing my plan. I decided that I would figure it out along the way.

We continued until we stumbled onto the river bank, more by chance than design. Then, we started moving upstream, following the plan, word for word. Me and my big mouth! By this time, night had receded and the approaching dawn made the going a bit easier. My leg had gone almost numb and I had stopped thinking about it. I just focussed on the next step, gritting my teeth against the pain and discomfort. Dew was incredibly tough and did not utter a word of complaint. Finally, a couple of hours into our escape, we took our first real break. We settled down and made a meal of some tinned pineapples and biscuits, washing it down with juice. I was dripping wet and something squelched with every move I made. Right then, I would have killed for dry clothes. The rain had lessened to a light drizzle though, and things were looking up. “Can they track you here?” I asked Dew, still thinking of the trace scape she had talked about.

“No,” Dew said, “That works only in close areas. They will assume that we teleported out and will now be looking for the port location so that they can trace out the next point in the port.”

“You mean to say they can always track down a teleport?”

“Not necessarily. There are ways to erase the tracks of a teleport. But it takes a lot of skill to pull off something like that. Even senior wordsmiths have trouble doing something like that.”

“Hmmm,” I digested that bit, pulling my trouser leg up to ease the pain.

“Slick, your leg has gone purple,” Dew gasped. I looked at it myself and realised that she was right. The leg had also doubled in size. I felt sick to the stomach at seeing my own leg looking like a rotting piece of meat. “I guess the healing scape you used has not been working,” I said, my voice quivering a bit.

“I’m sorry,” Dew whispered, tears coming to her eyes, “I was focussing on easing your pain. I am not very good at healing. I was training with Lonigan to be a hunter. Healing is not something I am expected to know.”

“A hunter?” I asked, gulping inwardly at the ominous sounding word.

“Clichéd revenge story. My dad was a Free wordsmith. He was assassinated by a squad of Guild Hunters. I was born with the gift, and the Free Word took me in right from the beginning. When I made it to breathsmith, I was asked to choose a vocation. The choice was clear. I wanted to be a hunter. I wanted to fight the Guild and its assassins.” Dew said all this as she folded her scarf and then tied it around my leg, above the injury; a rudimentary tourniquet. “This will prevent the infection from spreading to the rest of the leg,” she said, as she tightened the knot.

“Where the hell is that blessed dead wordsmith when you need him?” I swore freely, letting some of my frustration out.

“Right here. And I am not a dead wordsmith. I am very much alive.” De Vorto was hovering right above us, trying to look outraged while smirking; a feat he managed to accomplish rather successfully.

Dew

I looked out at the blue expanse, unable to believe where I was - a small boat in the midst of the ocean. We figured we couldn’t head towards any of the other islands because of the danger and were making for the Indian coastline, trying to sneak in somewhere close to Pondicherry, a place with civilisation enough to give us options. Provided we got there in the first place.

We were in a boat. And we had a few hundred miles to go. It was also really cold. Being a wordsmith helped make the boat a little safer than it was. But there was only so much you could do when you were taking on the might of the ocean. It didn’t help that the two companions I had were the most powerful wordsmiths I had ever known, yet were currently quite useless in terms of weaving up assistance. One of them was lying on the floor of the boat, fast asleep. I looked at him for a while, a thousand mixed emotions roaring through my head. It was all his fault. Or maybe it wasn’t. I couldn’t decide. I looked at De Vorto, who was flitting above the boat, his face turned towards an imagined horizon in the distance. The faerie form might have given him supernatural vision. I couldn’t say. I called out to him.

“De Vorto!” A moment later, he was fluttering beside me. “Can you sit down some place? It’s difficult to talk to someone hovering mid-air,” I said.

“Well, it’s a lot more effort to appear to be sitting. You see, there’s no real matter to me, so I don’t need to rest. Also, it’s quite a pleasure to fly about. You really should try it sometime!” De Vorto was putting on an air of fake cheer. That was scary. What little I knew of him, he didn’t care much for other people. If he was trying to lift my spirits, things were definitely worse than they were some time before.

I gulped and waved my hand, “I think I’ll pass. I’m comfortable sitting. I just wanted to talk for a bit. And I don’t think I want to talk to him. Not for a while at least.”

De Vorto looked at Slick and nodded, “I can understand that. I was in his head all this while and now that I’m out, the last thing I want to do is talk to him.”

“Did I do the right thing?” I was still staring at the ocean. I was trying hard to gulp down a huge lump in my throat that kept showing up, threating to burst the dam that had been building for a while now.

I could feel De Vorto giving me a long look. I looked at him as he lowered himself to the side of the boat, right next to me. He raised his hand and blew a small puff of glowing dust at me. I blinked in surprise. He smiled and said, “You acted on instinct, but you acted well. It is difficult to act against your family, against your warren. But you followed your heart, and it guided you well. Stop worrying about it.”

“But for him? Is he really worth this?” I gestured angrily at Slick.

“You tell me, Dew,” De Vorto hovered a little closer and looked at me seriously. “You met him barely a few hours ago and were ready to fight your own folks for him. You followed him into a teleport and then onto this frail little boat. After taking such big steps, you should not have room for doubts any more. You have long since crossed the point of no return.”

I took a deep breath that turned into a sob. I couldn’t help myself. The tears came, and I was sobbing openly. I could feel Slick stir, and I tried to control myself, but I couldn’t. De Vorto moved closer, warming me with his glow, unable to do more. He continued talking instead, “I have been in his head, Dew. I know him better than he knows himself. He is a good boy, though a confused one. I wouldn’t have wished this curse on my worst enemy. He has to deal with the corrupting power that I have burdened him with. What’s worse, it is a lot more than I had to control. That cursed scape wrenched more than just my spirit from the ether. It sucked in every legend, every myth, there ever was of the Wordscapist. And some of those legends are not pretty. I was in his head and even I was overwhelmed at the storm of power that swarmed up each time I guided him through his scapes. He now has to deal with that, how to harness it and do right with it. And all he has is us...”

He made sense, but for some reason, it made me want to cry all the more. I couldn’t stop the stupid tears! De Vorto went on, “Don’t cry, li’l one. Don’t cry. It will all be ok. Eventually. For now, you need to be strong.” He gave me a little pat that I almost could feel, though it did send a shiver down my spine. Through my tears, I could see Slick looking at me, his face a mask of misery. De Vorto hadn’t known he was awake and listening. At that moment, I didn’t care. I lay my head in my arms and sobbed away.