Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders (18 page)

“It's useless to try to follow me,” he warned. “My destination Portal is simply re-sending me somewhere else.”

“I won't try,” said Chem, “but please get going. She's dying.”

The Bloodgrave nodded then shouted, “Sylvine Forest!”

They disappeared.

Tara and the Bloodgrave materialized in a forest clearing, and he shouted, “Tylerthorn!”

They disappeared again, this time materializing in a room where the Master of Bloodgraves was waiting, a small vial in his hand.

Magister approached Tara and was raising her head to help her drink when the seemingly unconscious girl suddenly grabbed him—with four hands!

Before the astonished Bloodgrave knew what was happening, his masked face was sprayed with a dark powder. He gave a terrific sneeze that practically bent him double. He dropped the vial, but one of Tara's extra hands caught it.

The other Bloodgrave rushed over to help, but Tara yelled, “Go to the devil, both of you!” She was about to cast a Pocus, when both Bloodgraves disappeared.

Tara wasted no time wondering what had happened. Instead she shouted, “Travia Castle!”

The Portal obeyed and Tara and her unexpected partner disappeared in turn. That partner turned out to be none other than Cal, who had somehow made himself flat enough to lie hidden under Tara on the stretcher.

The moment they appeared at the Castle, Master Chem took the vial and immediately made Tara drink it.

After waiting a few minutes, Shaman Night Bird passed his hand over the girl's face, read his palm, and nodded with satisfaction.

“She's cured,” he announced, as laconic as ever. Then he packed his things and left.

Fabrice, Sparrow, and Cal whooped with joy.

“My plan worked perfectly!” exclaimed a radiant Cal. “I was pretty sure they would check that no adult wizard was magically hiding near Tara. So I used a thief technique where we compress our chest so much that our bodies take up very little room. They didn't think to lift Tara up, and when the Bloodgrave master approached, he got a handful of black pepper in his eyes.”

“Pepper?”

“Yeah. I needed a substance that Magister couldn't detect, but one that would blind him long enough for us to grab the vial and get out of there. But I still don't understand why the two Bloodgraves disappeared.”

“What do you mean, disappeared?” asked Chem, frowning.

“Well, yeah,” said Cal, shrugging. “All at once no more Bloodgraves. Then Tara activated the transfer, and here we are!”

“You saved my life, Cal,” said Tara very seriously and unexpectedly planted a big kiss on his cheek.

The boy stammered in embarrassment, but was rescued when a young page came to get them. The king and queen had gotten word of Tara's miraculous rescue and wanted to ask her about it.

Led by the page, Tara and the old wizard walked to the Throne Room. The king and queen were holding court, but the moment Tara was announced they indicated that they wanted to speak with her privately. The courtiers stepped back, while listening closely.

“My dear girl,” said the queen kindly, “you've apparently had a terrible adventure.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. But Master Chem and my friends saved my life. And Cal was incredibly brave to go to the Bloodgraves with me.”

An anxious murmur ran through the assembly, and Salatar, the chimera, sat up on his cushion.

Tara told the whole story, including how she acquired the jewellike design on her throat. (This sparked some jealousy among the assembled girls. From their envious looks, Tara had unwittingly launched a new fashion statement.) She had just reached the point where they were in the demons' hall in the topsy-turvy mansion, when she said, “We were frozen with fear, Your Majesty, because we didn't know that . . . ”

Tara stopped dead. Under her horrified eyes the two sovereigns had started to shiver and turn blue, and frost was covering their hair and eyebrows.

“Whhhhhhhhhhat . . . what's happppppening?” the king managed to say through chattering teeth.

Sparrow, Cal, and Fabrice were stamping their feet and shivering. Tara looked around and became very frightened.

Everyone in the Throne Room was blue with cold. The shivering courtiers anxiously blurted questions to each other, their hair covered with frost.

Salatar, who hated the cold, roared when he saw his strange body covered with frost.

“By my ancestors!” murmured Master Chem. “Tara! Don't say another word without my permission.” Then, to the king and queen: “Your Highnesses, I think I know what is happening!”

He turned back to the frightened girl.

“Our dear friend the demon gave you a little present, Tara. Kindly say this aloud: ‘We are gently warmed by their Majesties' kindness.'”

For a moment, Tara wondered whether the old wizard had lost his mind, but she obeyed.

“Er, we're gently warmed by their Majesties' kindness.”

Immediately, the sovereigns and the rest of the assembly thawed, and pleasant warmth replaced the bitter cold.

Salatar, sodden hair falling into his eyes, jumped down from his cushion.

“Would somebody care to explain this to me?” he asked in a dangerously calm voice.

“During our adventure in Limbo, we unfortunately challenged the Demon King to cure Tara,” admitted Master Chem, feeling very awkward. “He couldn't do it, so he gave her the gift of a new power. Whenever she uses a metaphor now, it actually takes place. I suspect this happened when Cal said the two Bloodgraves disappeared when Tara yelled ‘Go to the devil!' at them. I imagine they were quite surprised.”

“They weren't the only ones,” grumbled Cal, mopping his face with a handkerchief. “Do I understand this right, that whenever Tara says something like, ‘I'm burning up,' or ‘I'm hot to trot,' she might make toast of us?”

“That's about it,” admitted the old dragon.

Grinning at Tara, Cal said, “Well, sweetie, you better purge your vocabulary of metaphors if you don't want to turn us into shish kebabs.”

Rigid with fear, Tara stared at him and gulped.

Sparrow, who was drying her brown curls and watching her friend with concern, asked, “B-B-But we c-c-can c-c-cure her, c-c-can't we? C-C-Control the runaway magic? Otherwise, her life will b-b-be a nightmare!”

“It will take all the high wizards' combined power,” said Salatar, “and there aren't enough of you. You'll have to go to Omois.”

“Omois?” asked the king, who had been listening carefully. “I don't like having to ask the Empire for anything. Besides, do you think that the empress and the emperor would let you enlist their high wizards' power to cure our little Tara?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” said Chem. “That's part of the high wizard covenant. Regardless of our political differences, if one of us is in danger or is hurt, we close ranks to save or cure them.”

“That's perfect, then,” said Salatar, who finally saw a way to rid the court of Tara's dangerous presence. “In that case, you have carte blanche to cure the girl.”

“We won't be able to leave right away,” said Chem, to Salatar's annoyance. “We will need some time to prepare. I propose that we go in . . . let's say a week; that should work. In the meantime Tara will be very careful, won't you, dear?”

Careful was putting it mildly! Tara was being so careful now that she didn't say anything, just nodded.

Though she was feeling fine, Tara elected to stay in her room rather than risk freezing or frying anyone. Nervous courtiers gave her a wide berth along the way.

That evening, she rejoined her friends. Another trip to the library hadn't yielded anything, and she was feeling discouraged. OtherWorld was huge—one and a half times as big as Earth. She would never be able to find her mother!

“I heard what happened,” said a concerned Deria, who had joined the group. “Are you all right? I wanted to visit you, but Master Chem prevented me.”

“Oh, Deria!” wailed Tara. “I'm so scared! I have to watch every word I say!”

“Come here, darling,” said Deria kindly, taking the girl in her arms. “Don't be frightened. Power is only dangerous if you don't know how to control it. And you'll learn, trust me.”

As Tara dried her tears, Cal chimed in enthusiastically: “During the High Council meeting tomorrow, can't you say that we were all mute with admiration at the demon's power? With a little luck the masters won't be able to speak and we'll have the whole day free!”

“C-C-Cal, you should b-b-be ashamed of yourself!” scolded Sparrow. “P-P-Poor T-T-Tara has enough p-p-problems as it is.”

“That's all right,” said Tara, smiling weakly. “If I don't use any metaphors, I should manage not to hurt anyone. I just have to watch it.”

But when she went to bed after dinner, she felt very worried. She fought sleep as long as she could, and when she yielded, she was tormented by nightmares. She saw hordes of demons overpowering the world and turning people into slaves. But the worst of all came when the monstrous demon commander removed its helmet. The demon had deep blue eyes and long golden hair with a strange white strand. It was her!
She
was the queen of the demons!

When Tara awoke the next morning, she felt frightened and exhausted. So she didn't immediately notice what had happened to her room. She sleepily stumbled a dozen steps toward the bathroom before realizing that she'd previously crossed the small space in two or three. When she actually opened her eyes, she gasped.

Her room had grown—a lot! It now featured a handsome desk, a living room with a sofa and a couch, a fireplace, and a glittering chandelier. Her canopy bed was twice its previous size, with richly carved posts. On the walls, the Castle was projecting majestic landscapes, in keeping with her new status. Tara blinked. Well, here's hoping my magic hasn't hurt Grandma, she thought, because I have a real wizard's bedroom now.

She opened the wall with a wave of her accredi-card just as Angelica was passing with the other apprentices. When the tall girl saw Tara's new décor, she practically choked with rage.

Master Chem knew Tara was worried about her grandmother, so he contacted Isabella in Peru and confirmed that she was feeling fine. The old wizard took the occasion to tell her that Tara would be staying on OtherWorld for another ten days or so. Isabella was concerned and asked why, and Chem told her a barefaced lie. He said that Tara had been invited to Omois with the other wizards, and that he wanted to show her that wonderful country. Isabella raised no objection, especially since she hadn't yet found everything she needed to protect the manor house against the Bloodgraves.

The delighted wizard reassured Tara that her grandmother was fine and that she was being allowed to spend more time on Other-World.

Feeling relieved, Tara went to look for her friends. After the morning Council session, they were mostly free that afternoon. Not completely, however; Master Chanfrein assigned them to the stables, to ride the animals that needed exercising. Familiars weren't allowed there, so the young people had to leave them behind.

At two o'clock sharp they entered the stables and peered around. At first, Tara couldn't see the horses very well, but when she got closer, she saw they had what looked like big blankets on their backs. When one of the blankets moved and rose up, she realized that she was looking at . . . a wing?
Winged horses?
Her heart began thudding in her chest.

Attracted by the noise, the pegasi stuck their heads out of their stalls, looking the spellbinders over as carefully as the young people were examining them. Tara quickly realized how they differed from horses—besides having wings, of course. For one thing, the pegasi seemed very calm and let the spellbinders stroke them without reacting to their excitement. Also, when Tara hesitantly reached out her hand, she discovered that their hide felt different from a horse's. Their coat was softer and much thicker, probably to protect them against wind and cold at high altitudes. Their wings were very long, with firmly seated feathers. When one pegasus gave her a friendly bump to encourage her to keep petting him, she noticed that his head was very light. Like birds, pegasus bones were probably hollow. This considerably reduced their mass, though not so much that they couldn't carry a rider's weight.

Cal laughed to see Tara and Fabrice marveling at them. Sparrow, on the other hand, knew about pegasi and had even seen a couple of aerial polo matches.

“Hey, guys!” shouted Fabrice. “What do you get when the pegasus polo team has to go to the bathroom? Aerial manures!”

As the others groaned, he continued. “What happens when a pegasus farts at high altitude? It breaks the sound barrier!”

“Fabrice! Stop it!” shrieked Tara and Sparrow. Cal, on the other hand, just grinned.

Master Chanfrein appeared.

“Ah, our beginning riders,” he said. “Good, good. How many of you have already ridden before—any kind of animal?”

They had almost all ridden something before: a horse, a pegasus, and for two of Angelica's blushing and giggling friends, a unicorn.

“Perfect,” he said. “Here are the saddles.”

The saddles had a form-fitting safety belt to keep the rider from falling off. It could be released with just the click of a button, if necessary.

The saddles, which were held in place with three straps, were designed to leave the pegasus's wings completely free. One went around the animal's chest, and the other two cinched the saddle to its back. Stirrups fit the rider's feet, and the bit and bridle were just like a horse's.

“I'm going to take out Danguerrand for a demonstration. Then you'll each choose a pegasus and we'll go for a ride.”

Chanfrein opened a stall and led one of the pegasi out. The animal was so graceful, its feet barely seemed to touch the ground. To her great surprise, Tara saw that it didn't have hooves, but more like cat's paws, with sharp, retractable claws. A hoof wouldn't have been practical for perching in trees, and evolution had responded accordingly. The pegasus spread its wings to make it easier for Chanfrein to saddle it.