Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders (26 page)

Robin was leaning so far forward he practically fell onto the table. “That's a vital piece of information,” he said. “Thanks for telling us.” He excused himself and left somewhat quickly.

This suddenly reminded Cal that he had an assignment. “Oh, I see some friends of mine. I'll be back later.”

“As far as I'm concerned he can stay with his friends forever,” growled Damien, who was still smarting at Cal's flipness. “Anyway, now that we're among civilized people, let's talk about civilized activities. You wanted to learn more about duels, didn't you, Angelica?”

From the way Angelica looked, you'd think she actually wanted to kill him. But she controlled herself.

“I'm sure this is a topic that wouldn't interest our friends,” she purred. “Why don't we go discuss it, just the two of us? Elsewhere . . . in private . . .
somewhere else
.”

But Damien was oblivious to the hint.

“But it's an excellent custom! I'm very surprised you don't have the right to use it in Lancovit. That's quite backward!”

“No it isn't,” protested Sparrow, who didn't take criticism kindly. “Omois is the one that's backward. Duels have been forbidden for more than two hundred years in most OtherWorld countries. I don't understand why such a barbaric custom is still allowed here!”

Damien was starting to find the Lancovit apprentices a pain in the neck. For the moment, the only one that hadn't contradicted or annoyed him was Angelica. He made a quick decision and rose stiffly to his feet

“In that case, since you find our customs barbaric, I'm going to go discuss them with the only person among you who approves of them.”

Clicking his heels, he bowed to Angelica and asked her to accompany him out of the circle. They went to sit at another table. Carole hesitated for a moment but when Angelica waved her over, obeyed without argument.

That left only Sil, Tara, and Sparrow. The latter also stood up and decided to go hang out with the high wizards who were talking with their opposite numbers.

Tara continued quizzing Sil, but didn't learn much beyond the fact that he didn't share his chocolates and thought he was very smart.

The moment he left, Tara spoke up.

“Voice? Do you know a place called the Gray Fortress?”

She waited, her heart pounding. After what seemed a very long silence, the Voice announced: “Gray Fortress. Name given to the headquarters of the Bloodgraves in OtherWorld year 3457, named for General Bloodgrave, who launched the movement. The general advocated that spellbinders enslave nonspells and colonize the Earth. After his death the Bloodgrave clan was dissolved by the hunterelves.”

Tara took a deep breath. So the Gray Fortress really existed!

“Connection between Magister and the Gray Fortress, and localization.”

“Magister, Master of the Bloodgraves, revived the sect a dozen years ago. His identity remains unknown. His face is masked and his body covered by a gray spellbinder robe. The Gray Fortress was located in the mountains of Hymlia, but was completely destroyed. No link found between Magister and the Gray Fortress. End of report.”

Tara's hopes died. Magister must have rebuilt the Gray Fortress somewhere else on OtherWorld. She clenched her fists. She wasn't giving up. She'd find the answer somehow!

That night before lights out, everyone gathered in Tara's room for a council of war.

With great self-restraint, Tara and Sparrow managed not to giggle when they saw Cal's camouflage-patterned pajamas.

His eyes bright, Robin seemed very pleased with what he had learned.

“People don't know much,” he said, “but I was able to pick up some disturbing coincidences between their abductions and ours.”

“What are they?” asked Cal, who was wondering why the two girls seemed so tense when they looked at him.

“All the kidnapped apprentices were either very talented or had unusually powerful gifts. More to the point, they were all the children of wizards on the High Council!”

“Yeah, that's what Sil told me after you guys left,” said Tara. “He even claimed he tried not to be too good because he didn't want to risk being kidnapped. Then he changed his story and said his parents weren't important enough for him to be taken.”

“Same pattern in Lancovit,” said Cal. “Gifted or powerful apprentices, all the children of high wizards. Except for the female dwarf. What can we conclude from this?”

“That you'll never be kidnapped?” suggested Sparrow mischievously.

“Very funny! No, I mean seriously!”

Tara grabbed her white strand and started to chew it, to the great annoyance of Gallant, who hated the habit. She stroked the pegasus, then startled him when she exclaimed: “Rats!”

“What?” cried the other three, who'd been equally startled.

“I don't get it! When Magister, the Master of the Bloodgraves, tried to kidnap me”—Robin jumped again; he had missed that part of the story—“he said he wanted to give me the Power. What Power? And why me? What's the connection between Fabrice, high wizards, kidnapped apprentices, the Bloodgrave master's plans, and me? That's bugging me.”

“I think we're missing part of the big picture,” said Sparrow thoughtfully. “I spent some time around the high wizards, and they don't have any clues. They're all very worried about the kidnappings. They're also concerned about the presentation to the empress tomorrow. They don't understand why Her Imperial Majesty wants to see a demonstration by the apprentices.”

Robin, who was starting to realize that Tara was really very pretty, spoke to her: “I'm mostly worried about you. I hope the wizards know what they're doing. Curing a demonic gift isn't all that easy.” Tara flashed him a bright smile.

“I trust Master Chem completely,” she said calmly. “I'm not worried in the least.”

Which was a bald-faced lie, of course. Tara wasn't able to get to sleep until very late that night, and around four o'clock in the morning had to admit the truth to herself.

She wasn't sure she wanted to be cured.

The thought terrified her.

T
ara got no breakfast the next morning. Like a patient before surgery, she would undergo the exorcism on an empty stomach. Resisting an urge to flee, she followed the ifrit that came to fetch her.

The hall she entered was padded and painted red, which didn't reassure her—was that to hide any blood that might be shed? The spellbinders were sitting in a circle on comfortable cushions. There were at least a hundred high wizards present.

Lady Auxia took the floor. “Welcome, child. Come stand in the center of our circle, please.”

Tara silently obeyed.

“Now show us what is happening to you,” Auxia said in a slightly condescending tone. “I'm having trouble visualizing the extent of your problem.”

Tara looked up with an ironic smile. So the high wizard had trouble visualizing the problem, eh? She would understand soon enough.

“Well, the demon's welcome was as chilly as a cold shower,” she said. “We took to our heels, but his arrogance so stunned us, we were frozen like statues.”

Tara had barely finished the sentence when her white forelock crackled and a cascade of ice-cold water flooded the hall. A powerful wave washed over the Omoisian wizards, pinning them to the walls and half drowning them. No sooner did it retreat but the second metaphor struck. Their legs started flailing, and the hall was suddenly full of screaming wizards running around like lunatics. Finally the third metaphor froze them in whatever posture they happened to be at the moment. Some were lifting their legs, others were jumping. The Omoisian wizards were left stupefied and statue-fied.

Fortunately, Tara's magic wasn't powerful enough to immobilize them for long, and they managed to free themselves from the spell.

The Lancovians had activated their magic shields as a precaution and were floating in clear bubbles above their stunned, soaked, and chilly Omois colleagues.

All trace of Lady Auxia's condescension was now gone. Pulling long, wet hair away from her face, she exclaimed, “By my ancestors! This is terrible!”

“Yes, it is,” agreed Master Chem, who was drifting high and dry overhead and struggling not to laugh at the dripping wizard. “It really is terrible. Do you think we can cure this unfortunate child?”

Auxia nodded. “I'm sure we can. Let me just dry myself off and we'll begin the operation.”

The Omois spellbinders flushed away the water, then conjured blasts of warm air, leaving themselves disheveled but dry. Tara now had their complete attention. They hadn't realized they would be dealing with something so powerful.

All the wizards took up positions around Tara and closed their eyes. A huge face soon appeared in the air above her head. It was the joint incarnation of their combined minds, and they spoke through its mouth.

The face chanted, “By Extirpus, demon, resistance is vain. Leave this girl's body and cause her no pain!”

As the power of the wizards' spells grew, Tara felt herself getting hotter. It didn't really hurt, but it was extremely unpleasant. The pressure grew and grew and the huge face above her twisted in pain. Suddenly she saw something emerging from her body. A tiny demon was twisting its way out of the astonished girl's chest. It grew larger and larger, eventually becoming as big as the huge face.

“Hey, what's up with you guys?” the demon screamed. “Back off and show a demon a little respect, okay? All you do is dish me!”

The metaphor immediately became reality, and hundreds of dishes came crashing down around the spellbinders. Hot bean stews, steaming sauerkraut, and roast chickens with baked potatoes spattered the wizards who ran this way and that, dodging a deluge of potted meats, sausages, white beans, truffles, cream cakes, custard sauce, and ice cream.

The huge face now seemed truly furious. It roared, “
Demonus, vade retro
!”

“Heck! Can't even have fun anymore,” said the demon. “Cut it out!”

The high wizards robes' were immediately cut to ribbons, and they desperately snatched at scraps of fabric to preserve their modesty. This must have rattled some of them, because the big face overhead briefly wavered.

“Don't let yourselves be distracted!” thundered Master Chem. “We've got to continue—we're almost there!”

The face stabilized and firmly resumed reciting its incantations.

The demon cackled and threw its knockout punch.

“No reason for us to fight like cats and dogs or squeal like stuck pigs! I've seen you drunk as a skunk, so don't get on your high horse! I'm as stubborn as a mule, as clever as a monkey, and proud as a peacock. All you'll get from me are crocodile tears!”

A succession of loud was heard, and the high wizards, despite their resistance, shrank smaller and smaller until they became cats and dogs lost inside their tattered robes. As they hissed and barked angrily at the demon, the second metaphor struck. Paws changed shape, skin turned pink, tails corkscrewed, and a hundred pigs ran grunting around the room. Tara had to bite her lip so as not to laugh, but a moment later she was holding her nose. The pigs had turned into a hundred smelly animals with black and white stripes. An instant later, the skunks swelled enormously and started stamping their hooves, first whinnying in fear, then braying. As the demon howled with laughter, the mules were replaced in turn by chattering monkeys, parading peacocks, and finally weeping crocodiles.

When they'd struggled to regain their human shapes, the hundred enraged wizards confronted the demon.

“Destroy that demon!” screamed Lady Auxia. “
Now
!”

The face above Tara convulsed, and a beam of light shot from its eyes and struck the laughing demon. This time, the wizards' fury was stronger. The demon struggled to open its mouth to blast them with some new metaphor, but the huge face didn't give it a chance. The beam of light intensified, relentlessly battering its head. The demon screamed, writhed, and tried to speak again, but it was too late. It first began to fade, then exploded in a cloud of viscous bits and pieces that spattered all over the wizards.

At that instant, the feeling of rage and fury that had been boiling in Tara ever since her adventure in Limbo disappeared. She was free!

The high wizards opened their eyes again, and the huge face disappeared.

“Bravo, everyone!” said Master Chem, draped in a ragged robe so cut up that his underwear showed. “That was a monumental struggle, but it was terrific!”

High Wizard Auxia, suddenly embarrassed that everyone could see her purple and gold lingerie, zapped away the slimy stains and conjured herself an over-tunic. Having regained a more dignified appearance, she turned to the girl.

“Now Tara, kindly say something using a metaphor. Preferably something innocuous.”

As Tara opened her mouth, she noticed the wizards tensing up.

“I guess that demon really got our goat!” she said cautiously.

A collective sigh rose from the wizards, none of whom started to bleat.

“Very good!” said Master Chem jovially. “I think we've done it. Our little Tara is cured!”

A joyful hubbub greeted this declaration, and Tara felt hugely relieved. She could now speak freely, without fear of frying, freezing, or transforming her friends.

“That's perfect,” said a smiling Lady Auxia. “Now let's go to the Training Hall to select the apprentices who will have the honor of demonstrating their skill to their majesties. I suggest that our young friend Tara participate as well, now that she is cured.”

Chem frowned. “I'm not sure that—”

Auxia cut him off. “Their majesties will certainly want to see the girl who was saved by our talent from such a powerful demon,” she said firmly. “We put our lives in danger and even so, we still nearly failed. I'm sure you wouldn't want to displease them, after what the Empire has done for you.”