Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders (11 page)

Before she could scream, the Bloodgrave waved his hand and the mask disappeared, revealing Master Chem's face—but looking thirty years younger! Even his voice was different. His hair was no longer white but brown, and his eyes were green instead of gold.

“The reason we can't identify the Bloodgraves is that they could be any one of us,” he explained. “With magic we can change our bodies and our appearance, and fool people. You see?”

Still rigid with fear, Tara nodded. Satisfied, Chem reverted to his dragon shape. Tara briefly wondered which she was more afraid of, the enormous dragon or the Bloodgrave. Right now it was about even.

“If the Bloodgraves wear gray, what would their base be called?” she asked. “You know, like their headquarters?”

“No idea,” rumbled the dragon. “And believe me, if I knew I would have destroyed them a long time ago.”

So Master Chem didn't know about the Gray Fortress either. Tara would apparently have to find it by herself.

With the old wizard's warning of caution ringing in her ears, Tara rejoined Cal, who led her to her room.

“So, did you get to talk to Chem?” he asked, struggling to contain his curiosity.

“Yeah, I did,” said Tara laconically. “Hey, this Castle of yours is huge! Is my room still far?”

“All right,” said Cal, who caught on fast. “I can tell you don't want to answer, so I won't ask any questions—at least not now. Here we are! If her ladyship would be so kind . . . ”

When the wall opened before Tara, she saw a comfortable lounge with large windows, sofas and armchairs, and little round coffee tables. To her delight, there was also a soda fountain and
two
fire-places! Despite the summer heat, the Living Castle had given the room a winter landscape of snow and pine trees that made you feel like snuggling close to the fire. It crackled and smelled pleasantly of smoke, even though it didn't exist.

There were stairs at each end of the room. One led up to the Unicorn dormitory, the other to the Phoenix dormitory.

“This is our common room, where we hang out,” said Cal. “Your room is over in the Unicorn dormitory. Come on.”

Tara was surprised. “Don't you have individual rooms?”

“We're just apprentices, wizards' assistants,” he said gloomily. “In other words, we're on-call drudges. We only get our own rooms when we reach the next level and become wizards. The higher your level, the bigger your room. Master Chem's is especially big because he reverts to his natural shape when he sleeps.”

“You mean his dragon shape?”

“Right. Which annoys One-Too-Many, because he sleeps in the middle of his flammable old scrolls. She claims he snores and is gonna set the Castle on fire someday.”

He paused in front of a wall.

“Okay, show your accredi-card and tell the Castle that you're inviting me in. Otherwise I'll be trapped. I'm not allowed into a girl's room without her permission.”

Tara did so, and they entered.

The room was fairly small and almost entirely filled with a canopy bed with blue velvet curtains, and a wardrobe made of a wood Tara had never seen before: it was pink with turquoise grain. The furniture rested on a thick carpet of blue grass and a sprinkling of little white flowers. She could see gently rolling hills in the distance.

“The Castle likes you,” said Cal with satisfaction. “This is Mentalir, the unicorn country. You should see a herd of them any moment now.”

In fact, some young unicorns came to prance around the bed a few moments later. Though delighted, Tara resisted the urge to stroke their velvety muzzles, knowing that she would only touch a stone wall.

“You're in luck,” said Cal with a chuckle. “The Castle once got angry at a count from the Marches of the East—that's between Gandis, the land of giants, and Hymlia, the land of dwarves. He was very arrogant and had insulted the queen. So the Castle produced the most nightmarish landscapes on the planet. After sleeping amid snakes, spiders, scorpions, and all of OtherWorld's monsters, the count gave up and left after three days!”

Tara, who didn't like bugs, shivered. She wouldn't have lasted ten minutes!

A thick leather-bound book lay on Tara's marble night table. The gilt lettering announced quite a program:
On the Etiquette, Mores, Customs, Laws, and Obligations of the Royal Castle.

“Now you have to introduce yourself,” said Cal.

“Introduce myself? To whom?”

“To your bed, of course.”

Tara stared at the canopy bed and figured Cal was pulling her leg. But he looked perfectly serious.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” he said with a grin. “I keep forgetting that you don't know OtherWorld. Just stand in front of the bed and say your name. From then on it will recognize you. You'll be the only person who can get into it, except for the administrator and the steward. Unless you invite somebody in, of course. You do the same thing for your wardrobe.”

She walked over to the bed and said, “Tara Duncan!”

The curtains parted with a silky rustle, revealing a fluffy duvet and fresh sheets.

“The bed curtains are kept drawn at night, because we can't always control our power when we're asleep,” explained Cal. “To keep us from flying around the Castle, we sleep in canopy beds with the curtains closed. When you're more advanced, you can get a bed without curtains, but I know lots of kids who pretend not to control themselves so as to sleep in them longer! Come on, I'll show you the bathroom.”

The Living Castle had decorated the spacious white-tiled bathroom with a calm lake and a beautiful water sprite, who sang as she combed her long green hair.

A noise brought them back out to the bedroom. Tara's suitcases had arrived. They floated in one after the other and landed near the bed.

“Perfect,” said Cal, rubbing his hands. “Let's see if I get it right this time. Go stand over by the wardrobe and say your name.”

Somewhat cautiously, Tara did so.

The wardrobe responded by opening its two doors and its three drawers.

Cal stood in front of it and spoke: “By Putawayus, this I say: I want these clothes put away!”

He clapped his hands, and a whirlwind of clothes burst out of Tara's suitcases and went to neatly put themselves away in the wardrobe. Within seconds it was full, and it closed its doors and drawers.

“Hey, that's too cool!” said Tara admiringly. What was it that you said, exactly? ‘By Putawayus, this I say: I want these clothes put away!'”

At those words, the wardrobe practically exploded. The doors flew open and the clothes violently shot out just as a group of girls entered the room. A bathrobe draped itself around the leader's head, blinding her and producing a series of frightened yelps.

Terribly embarrassed, Tara rushed over, blurting apologies. The girl, a brunette taller and older than Tara, was furious to have shown how scared she'd been. She looked Tara up and down, dark eyes glit-tering with hostility.

“You little twit!” she hissed. “Are you out of your gourd, firing your duds around like that? I'm telling Lady Kalibris about this, and you'll see!”

“I'm terribly sorry,” said Tara. “I didn't do it on purpose. I apologize.”

“Get out of my way!”

Tara, who didn't dare use magic to put her things away, started picking them up, under the other girls' mocking looks.

When the tall girl saw that Tara was settling in to the room, she yelled, “You! Come here!”

“Me?”

“Yes, I mean you, you little idiot! I want this room, so beat it, or there'll be trouble!”

“Oh, cut it out, Angelica,” said Cal, planting himself in front of her. “You know perfectly well that she isn't going to leave.”

“And what the heck are you doing in the Unicorn wing, Cal?” she answered, eyes narrowed. “You aren't allowed in here!”

“Oh, yes I am,” he said. “I have a perfect right to be here. Administrator Kalibris and High Wizard Chemnashaovirodaintrachivu both asked me to bring Tara here and help her get settled. You're just an apprentice spellbinder, Angelica, so you sleep in the dormitory like the rest of us. You're the one who ought to beat it.”

Tara saw Angelica tighten her fists in fury and for a moment thought she was going to attack Cal. But the tall girl got a grip on herself.

“You'll get what's coming to you one of these days, you garden dwarf! Come on, girls, we'll let these two idiots pick up their rags. Meanwhile, let's go see my master and tell him what kind of pinheads I'm getting for neighbors. He'll give me this room!”

With a last venomous glare, Angelica stormed out, followed by her little entourage.

“Whew! I was afraid she was gonna punch me.”

“Me too,” said Tara, still shaken by the encounter. “Who is she?”

“She's High Wizard Brandaud's daughter—daddy's little sweetheart. She thinks she knows everything, even though her magic gift developed late, and she lords it over everyone. A real pain in the butt. She's sixteen and is apprenticed to Master Dragosh, the most powerful spellbinder after Master Chem. Angelica got scared when your clothes attacked her. She didn't expect it.”

“That makes two of us! What happened, exactly? Why did my clothes pop out again? They'd been put away properly.”

Cal looked at her with respect.

“You reactivated the putting-away spell. Specifically, you ordered your clothes to put themselves away
again
, as if you were going to pack your suitcase. But you didn't specify where you wanted them to go, so they just zoomed about everywhere.”

Tara started feeling panicky.

“Are you saying that when I recite a magic formula, it works right away? That's awful!”

“Are you kidding? It's terrific! We can do lots of things with this gift of yours! Usually it's a heck of a job to get a spell to work. You have to make a real effort of will to succeed. With you, it's like instinctive. Listen, sweetie, you can't tell anybody about this!”

“
Sweetie?
Don't you
ever
call me that again, understand? Anyway, I can't use magic; it's forbidden!”

“Ah-ha!” said Cal, his eyes bright. “I get it! That business about the blood oath applies to you, doesn't it?”

“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. “If I use magic, my grandmother will die. So be very careful when you do magic when I'm around.”

Cal thoughtfully chewed on his lip.

“But blood oaths aren't absolute, Tara. They depend on who swears them, and especially on the context. Have you ever used magic in your grandmother's presence?”

“Yes.”

“Did she keel over dead?”

“No.”

“Then the conditions must be very specific. Come to the library with me and I'll give you a book on the subject.”

Ah, the library—excellent. It would certainly have maps and atlases. An ideal place to research the Gray Fortress.

“How long are you staying here?” Cal asked.

“About ten days.”

“Then don't worry.”

“All right, but first . . . ”

“What?”

“First help me put my things away.”

The two did the job quickly. Just as they were finishing, they heard a bell.

“Great!” cried Cal. “It's lunchtime. C'mon!”

Grabbing Tara's hand, and waving his accredi-card at every wall in his path, Cal dragged her to a large dining hall. She was relieved to see that it wasn't where the king and queen and their court ate. Instead it was for the guards, stable hands, gardeners, spellbinders, low-ranking courtiers, washerwomen, and tailors—in a word, all the people who helped run the Castle under Lady Kalibris's direction.

Tara grinned when Deria, who was deep in conversation with a handsome guard, winked at her. Knowing she had an ally in the place made her feel much better.

In a corner of the room, bowls of various shapes and sizes had been set out for the familiars, and Manitou and Blondin promptly ditched their young masters and ran over to them.

Lady Kalibris called for silence.

“Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and spellbinders. I have the pleasure of introducing our new mages and apprentices. Master Den'maril has finally chosen an apprentice, Robin M'angil. This means he will no longer be bothering you at the drop of a hat, since Robin will be running all his errands.” She pointed, and a tall, finefeatured boy with light eyes and hair stood up, blushed at the laughter that greeted him, and quickly sat back down again.

“We also have a new weather wizard. From now on, if you hang your sheets out to dry and it rains, you can blame Lady Deria.”

Deria stood and waved with her inimitable grace, while shooting a chilly glance at Kalibris, whose humor she didn't enjoy.

“So much for the wizards and apprentices. Now for the other professions . . .”

Tara was listening to what Lady Kalibris was saying when a boy plopped himself down next to her, jostling Cal.

“Tara? Is that you?” the boy exclaimed in astonishment.

“Fabrice!” she whispered in delight. “I was right; you really are here!”

“You two know each other?” asked a surprised Cal.

“We sure do,” said Fabrice. “Tara, I can't tell you how happy I am. When my father sent me to OtherWorld, I almost spilled the beans to him about your gift. But since you're here, you must've finally told your grandmother everything, right?”

“Well, more or less,” she stammered, pained at having to hide the truth from her best friend.

Cal, who wasn't especially interested in their meeting, was getting restless.

“I wish she'd hurry up,” he groused, as the administrator went on with her announcements. “I'm hungry!”

As if she'd heard, Lady Kalibris's two heads nodded and announced that lunch was served. Tara expected that the food would appear by magic, but instead an army of young pages and squires ran in carrying roast meats, grilled fowl, thick, spicy soups, vegetables dripping with melted butter, huge wheels of cheese, pastries, and mounds of candy and chocolate.