Spellwright

This still did not prove that Nora had been selling access to Nicodemus, but it made it highly probable. And if the academy had been wrong and Nicodemus was indeed co

“Heaven defend us all,” Sha

As before, the corridor of spellbooks appeared as a wall of multicolored light to his magically sensitive eyes, while the mundane world was black to him. He had received no warning from Azure, nor had he heard anything unusual. But somehow, he knew.

“Who’s there?” he whispered.

At first only silence answered him. But then came a slow intake of breath and a low, crackling voice: “Write not a sentence,” it rasped before drawing another breath, “or you’ll eat your words.”

SHANNON DID NOT move. Nora’s research journal was still in his hands.

“Lay the book down,” the voice said, “slowly.”

Sha

“The shrew killed herself before I had the chance.” A grunt. “It’s a recurring problem for me. I killed my master before he named the boy. I won’t make the same mistake with you.”

Sha

There came another whistling inhalation and a short, dry laugh. “So the old beast replenished the emerald when the boy was asleep? Yes, it was he who had an agreement with Magistra Fi

Sha

“How could you tell?”

“You inhale only before speaking,” Sha

The creature laughed. “Full marks for acumen, Magister. I am not human, nor was master. Though he could fool your kind into thinking so.”

“The subtextualization of your prose is impressive. Which faction wrote you?”

The creature laughed louder. “Perhaps I spoke too soon about your acumen. I am not a construct, nor do I care a whit for the wizardly factions.”

“You’re a demon, then?”

“Not a demon either, but I don’t have time for this. What matters now is your name. My guess is that you are Magister Agwu Sha

“I am Magister Sha

“I’d rather the boy lived,” the voice croaked. “The stronger he is, the more I gain from the emerald. I’m telling you this so you can understand how… lucrative it would be to align yourself with me. Tell me the boy’s name and you and I might continue as master and Nora Fi

Sha

“You care for the boy,” the voice observed wryly. “More than I can say about the grammarian. She cared for what he is, not who.”

“And what is he? Is he the one of the Erasmine Prophecy?”

The murderer grunted. “Few things are more a

Sha

“I might not know his name, but I will kill every male cacographer in this academy to find him. I can wield dreams as you might wield a net. So unless you want every boy in the Drum Tower murdered, you’ll accept my offer.”

Sha

“Do you need more incentive?” the voice asked. “There are rewards brighter than gold. With the emerald, I am master of Language Prime. I could tell you how the Creator made humanity.” There was a pause. “You do know what Language Prime is, don’t you?”

Sha

A dry laugh. “Magister, you lack conviction! You must know that the original language exists. Interesting. What might your co

Sha

There came a shuffling noise. “True; I haven’t a text ready, nor can I spellwrite within Starhaven’s walls. The Chthonics filled this place with too many metaspells. But it’s not words with which I threaten you; it’s a half foot of sharpened iron I’ll drive through your skull before you can extemporize two words.”

The murderer was right. Sha

“Enough banter,” the creature hissed. “You can accept my offer or force me to kill every boy in-”

Sha

The wartext leaped from the page into an effulgence of silver runes. Sha

The murderer cried out with surprise as the silvery text struck a bookshelf. The spell cut through several leather-bound codices with a loud ripping sound.

With a blast of air, each severed spellbook exploded into a blazing nimbus of sentence fragments. Sha

Then the murderer was on top of him. The universe became a seething blackness of elbows and knees as they rolled over one another. A hand was trying to pull the Magnus spell from Sha

Yawping savagely, Sha

Instantly the weight lifted from Sha

Suddenly he was on his back and struggling to get up. His head felt full of cotton and his ears were ringing. Deconstructing sentence fragments coated every inch of the private library’s floor and walls. The fragments were squirming, spi

Beyond the chaos, Sha

Slowly he realized what he was seeing: the murderer had taken Nora’s journal and fled.

All around Sha

Desperately, Sha

Behind him the decomposing sentences began to tear open the other spellbooks. Soon they would spill their contents into the growing textual storm. Sha

The hallway went black. Sha

But he was safe now. The chaotic language, left in the private library, would deconstruct into nothing.