CHAPTER 4
MASS-LESS TRANSIT
The next morning, Tara thought about the ghostly vision of her mother and the terrible attack as she pulled on the second leg of her jeans. Suddenly, an awful thought struck her, leaving her hopping in place. What if it all had been a dream? She quickly finished dressing and ran downstairs.
To her great relief, she found the old wizard in the kitchen cheerfully chatting with Tachil, Deria, and Mangus over cocoa. So she wasn’t nuts after all—spellbinders really did exist.
She plopped down next to the wizard and poured herself a big mug of hot chocolate.
“Morning Deria, Mangus, Tachil. Good morning, Mister . . . er, Master,” she said quickly, remembering there was no way she could pronounce the high wizard’s name.
“Good morning Tara,” said Chem. “How are you feeling this morning? Not too stiff?”
She was surprised to realize that in fact she felt very sore. When she moved, muscles she never knew she had complained loudly.
“I am, actually. Why?”
“Because you used your body’s energy to do all the things you accomplished yesterday. When you levitated your grandmother, it’s as if you were really lifting her. You carried, you ran, you used your power, and your body suffered the consequences. We try not to use magic too often, at least those of us who aren’t especially gifted, because it burns up a lot of energy and we could die of exhaustion.”
“But I could never have lifted my grandmother without magic,” Tara protested. “She’s a lot heavier than I am.”
“Ah, I can see you’re Isabella’s granddaughter all right! You want a logical explanation, don’t you? And you’re quite right. If you’d had a wheelbarrow, for example, you could have put Isabella in it and moved her, right? Well, magic is a little like that. It’s a tool. Magic lets you take your twelve-year-old strength and multiply it. To use your power, you unconsciously drew on the forces that exist all around us. Spellbinders are able to use this life force for their own purposes, and normal humans can’t.”
Great, thought Tara. Now Chem was spouting “May the Force be with you” stuff. All this spellbinder business had been lacking was a Star Wars tie-in. Still, she was riveted. So that’s how magic worked. She tried to visualize the concept.
“So we’re a kind of motor and the fluid around us is like gasoline, is that it? We run on it, and it gives us power. And the better the motor, the greater the power.”
The wizard looked at Tara then pounded her on the back so hard, her cup of chocolate almost went flying.
“Remarkable! Just remarkable! Tara, you have a wonderful gift for simplifying the most complicated things. Ah, Padimo isn’t going to like this. He always gets tangled in circumlocutions when he tries to explain the nature of magic. A motor and gas—exactly the metaphor we were after!”
Isabella entered, scowling at the racket.
“Well, well, what’s going on here?”
“What’s going on is that your granddaughter is remarkable,” said the delighted wizard. “Simply remarkable.”
Tara was flattered that Chem liked her analogy, but thought he was making too much of it. And speaking of magic, it was time she got a few things straight.
“Tell me, Master, when are we leaving?” Tara asked.
“Soon. And you won’t be alone. Deria will join us on Other-World at Travia Castle. She insisted on going along as your protector. She’s a trained magus, so we had the court take her on as its weather wizard. Your grandmother’s assistants will stay here to help her prepare the manor’s defenses.”
“Terrific!” said Tara with an enthusiasm that surprised Isabella, who’d though she might refuse to go. “What do I have to do now?”
“First, finish your breakfast. Deria will help you pack your bags. Then we’ll go to the Portal and transfer to Travia. By the way, it might be useful to take your great-grandfather with you. He’ll be a perfect familiar, since he can’t be identified in his present form.”
To Tara, it sounded as if the wizard was speaking Martian, and she stared at him blankly.
“By Demiderus, Isabella,” he growled, “don’t tell me she doesn’t know about your father, either?”
“No, of course not,” she snapped. “Manitou, come in here!” she commanded in a ringing voice that made Tara jump.
A moment later, the big black Labrador padded into the kitchen. Isabella hugged him then turned his muzzle toward the girl.
“Tara, I’d like you to meet your great-grandfather. Manitou, you’re going to accompany Tara to OtherWorld. You’ll pass as her familiar, which will allow you to stay with her and protect her. Can you handle that?”
The dog wagged his tail and barked once.
“Alack the day!” said the old wizard sadly. “There’s been no improvement, I see. Maybe this will help. ‘By Interpretus the wall between our species breach, so we can understand each other’s speech.’”
When the dog barked again, it was with a very different voice.
“Woof! I mean, of course I’ll go with her. Blasted mutt! He’s stronger than I am, and his instinct overwhelms me. But I’ll do my best. OtherWorld’s magic vibrations may help me stay in my human mind. I hope so, anyway.”
Tara fell to her knees in front of the dog.
“Manitou? I mean, Grandpa . . . er, Great-grandpa?”
“Just call me Manitou, it’s simpler. It’s such a pleasure to think and act like a human being! You have no idea how I’ve suffered not being able to chat with you during my rare moments of lucidity.”
Isabella looked down at him regretfully.
“I’m sorry, but no one has been able to replicate the formula of your spell yet,” she said. “And since the shock of the transformation erased your memory, all we can do is keep searching.”
“Yes, I know,” said Manitou, nodding. “Oh! The dog’s instinct is coming back again. Tara, I’ll meet you in the yard later.”
He gave the astonished girl a little nuzzle and went out.
“But, but—” Tara stammered.
“Sad story,” said the wizard somberly. “He managed to discover a spell that gave him eternal life. Problem is, it also changed him into a dog. So he’s immortal, but in the shape of a Labrador retriever. And you can’t just take him along as your dog, because only familiars are allowed in the Castle.”
“What’s a familiar?”
“Every spellbinder has an animal companion called a familiar. It’s his or her sign or mark, in a way. The spellbinder and the familiar can communicate. Isabella’s familiar was a tiger, and it was killed when your father and mother died. As you see, she hasn’t replaced it.”
“A tiger?”
“Don’t worry, familiars aren’t dangerous to spellbinders. Deria’s magpie Mani is her familiar. It’s been Mani’s job to keep an eye on you when Deria wasn’t able to. All right, I see that you’ve finished your breakfast. Why don’t you go upstairs and get ready?”
Tara had been carefully studying the magpie to see what made it different. She was startled when it flew to the table, landed on a loaf of bread, and saluted her by dipping its wings. Then it swiped a piece of her toast.
“Wow! Did you see that?” she exclaimed. “That was great!” Then she turned to her grandmother. “Grandma?”
“What is it, Tara’tylanhnem?”
“Is there anything else I should know about?”
Isabella hesitated for a moment then said, “No, except that I will be leaving for Peru in an hour. To protect the manor I need some sorcery objects that I don’t have available here, and I must go get them. Mangus and Tachil will stay at the house. But don’t worry. Chemnashaovirodaintrachivu will always know how to reach me.”
This news made Tara uneasy. Peru was so far away.
As she was pondering this, her grandmother continued: “I want to say that I’m very happy you’re under the high wizard’s temporary protection. I’m sure you are going to enjoy yourself at the Castle. The rulers of Lancovit are ch
arming people, and all should go very well. It will be like spending the rest of your vacation in another country.”
Tara’s mind was racing and she was about to ask more questions, but her grandmother’s serious expression dissuaded her.
“I hope so, Grandma. I’ll see you later.”
With Deria’s help, Tara’s suitcase was soon packed. She was about to take it and her purse downstairs when Deria stopped her.
“No, leave them here for the time being. I’ll bring them over to the count’s later. Nobody must know where you’re going, and the sight of suitcases might reveal our high wizard’s plan.”
“So should I just go downstairs like this?”
“Yes. I’ll be along in a moment.”
Tara went downstairs reluctantly and found Chem and Isabella waiting for her. Her grandmother looked even more serious than usual, but now that she had told Tara she loved her, the girl understood that it was a mask to hide her feelings.
Tara hugged her tight and kissed her. An embarrassed Isabella returned the hug then stepped back.
“You will be going to Travia Castle, which is the capital of the Kingdom of Lancovit,” she said. “Castle etiquette isn’t as strict as in Omois, which is the biggest human empire on OtherWorld. But I’m counting on you, Tara’tylanhnem. You’re the seventh spellbinder in a long and glorious line, and I want you to bring honor to the Duncan name. Never forget that.”
Though Tara had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t cry, tears started rolling down her cheeks.
“I’m going to miss you, Grandma. I love you.”
Isabella shot a look of annoyance at the old wizard, who was discreetly dabbing at his eyes. To Tara she murmured, “Me too, Tara’tylanhnem. Now go.”
“All right, let’s get moving,” said the wizard. “It’s time we were off.” He had conjured a big blue handkerchief with dancing dragons, but they quickly got out of the way when he raised it to blow his nose.
Tara looked at Chem with some skepticism. Everything that she had seen about magic up to now left her pretty cold. Because of magic she’d been deprived of her mother for ten years, and now she had to leave her family, her friends, and the place where she had grown up. And the old wizard seemed awfully frail to be defending her against the monstrous Master of the Bloodgraves.
Tara turned to Chem, expecting something spectacular—like thunder and lightning and rearranged molecules—but he simply took her hand and they walked toward Besois-Giron Castle. Manitou followed, barking like mad.
“Confounded Isabella,” he muttered. “Can’t even show she’s sad when saying goodbye. Gets on my nerves.”
Tara said nothing until they reached the castle. She’d suddenly remembered what she had heard while crouching on the mantelpiece. Isabella had suggested—no, she’d ordered—that Fabrice go to OtherWorld. With a little luck, Tara would see her best friend there.
When they reached the castle, the wizard didn’t bother ringing the bell. The gates opened all by themselves.
“Magic?” asked Tara, very impressed.
“No, electronic,” he answered, pointing to the electric eyes on either side of the gate and the surveillance camera above it. “The count installed them a few days ago.”
Count Besois-Giron was waiting for them at the castle forecourt. An impressive figure, he was totally bald, and his large beaked nose made him look like a plucked falcon. He was holding a scepter.
“Welcome, High Wizard! Leaving us already?”
“Alas, yes. As you know, I love your wine, and I’m practically catatonic at not being able to drink some. But I have to take Tara and Manitou to OtherWorld. Your son is already there, isn’t he?”
“Yes indeed,” said the count proudly. “He transferred two hours ago.”
“Perfect, perfect. We better go right to the Portal then. We still have a long way to go.”
The Transfer Portal was located in one of the towers overlooking the valley.
Tara was a Stargate fan, so when she looked around for the Portal, she expected complex equipment, humming generators, and busy technicians. But there was . . . nothing. Just a big empty room hung with five tapestries woven with mythological scenes. One showed unicorns with what looked like dwarves. The second, giants carving—or were they eating?—blocks of stone. The third, men in green with pointed ears. The fourth, spellbinders in gray and blue robes around a pentagram like her grandmother’s. The fifth tapestry showed little multicolored creatures at a party, beneath a scepter.
“Stand in the center of the room, please,” said the count.
“Come here, Manitou,” said Tara. The dog obeyed for once and came to sit next to her. Chem could feel the girl’s small hand tighten in his, and he gave her a reassuring smile.
The count went to stand under the tapestry depicting the small creatures. He placed the scepter he was holding in a hollow on the wall, where it fit perfectly. He then waved goodbye to his guests, stepped out of the room, and closed the door.
As soon as the latch clicked, the scepter began to glow. Rays of light from the four other tapestries, each a different color, formed a rainbow over the travelers.
In a strong voice, the old wizard said, “The Living Castle of Travia.”
They vanished.
Tara felt a shock and a twinge of nausea, then found herself standing in an identical room, but one with an occupant that looked nothing like the old count. It had only one eye, sported bright orange hair, stood seven feet tall, and was waving a piece of paper in one of its four hands. Tara would have drawn back in panic, but Chem held her firmly.
Armed guards in blue and silver livery were eying them carefully, their sharp lances at the ready to skewer intruders. Tara gulped as they glowered at her and decided not to budge without permission.
“High Wizard, what a pleasure to see you again!” said the Cyclops in a high, fluty voice, waving them forward. “Count Besois-Giron announced your arrival, and I had just enough time to come greet you. Really, it’s amazing how many things I have to do!”
A bell rang, and the Cyclops became even more agitated.
“By Demiderus! More arrivals already! Quickly, quickly! Move on so I can clear the way.”
The Cyclops seemed so frazzled that Tara almost laughed. He hadn’t let Chem get a word in edgewise and was already pushing them out of the room with the frantic energy of a hen who had lost her chicks.
“That’s our steward,” said Chem with a sigh. “He panics every time a visitor comes to the Castle, and since people are constantly coming, he’s in a permanent tizzy. Come along; I’m going to introduce you to our administrator, Lady Kalibris, so she can register you.”
“Register me for what?”
“No one is allowed to be in the Castle without accreditation. Since you are my temporary guest, you will be accredited to Level 6. You’ll be allowed to visit some areas of the Castle, but not others. Lady Kalibris will explain the Castle’s rules and etiquette, tell you where you sleep, inform you how to be presented to their Royal Highnesses, and so on.”
“Presented to their Royal Highnesses?” yelped Tara. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t worry, Tara,” he said kindly. “The Living Castle is a gigantic entity, a kind of beating heart that regulates the kingdom’s circulation. But etiquette here isn’t too strict. If you say or do something silly, you can explain that you just arrived from Earth.”
The old wizard waved Tara’s other questions aside for the time being, having decided to first show her around the Castle.
Wide-eyed, Tara saw people busy everywhere. Floating in midair, young spellbinders were beating the rugs, but in an unusual way: they had them fly outside through high windows and shake themselves. Suits of armor (some of them with really unusual shapes) shook off dust by rattling themselves with a loud clanking. The interior of the Living Castle was magnificent, but it was hard to tell how it was constructed because everything was in constant motion. Landscapes on the walls and ceiling appeared, di
sappeared, and changed, according to the Castle’s whim. At the moment it seemed to be in a good mood, because the landscapes were full of sunshine, meadows, and twittering birds. They looked so real that Tara almost bonked her head against a wall a few times when she leaned close to take a better look. Farther on, she drew an amused glance from Chem when she tried to jump over a stream that didn’t exist. And she stopped at the end of one corridor, mesmerized by the sight of horses, unicorns, and little animals joyfully gamboling around her in the company of beautiful damsels blowing kisses to the spellbinders. It looked so real that Tara caught herself waving back.
Then she suddenly screamed, released Chem’s arm, and leaped backward.
A dizzying abyss had just opened beneath their feet. At its bottom a giant insect with multiple legs, claws, and mandibles was looking up at her with a hungry eye—quite a few eyes, actually. Before she could retreat, the animal started racing up the crevasse wall at terrifying speed. But just as Tara opened her mouth to scream, Chem took her hand, unconcerned by the poison-laden claws threatening her.
“The Living Castle is certainly in fine fettle this morning!” he groused. “Don’t worry, it does that to all the new arrivals. You’re in no danger; those are just illusions. Come along.”
A Castle that played practical jokes—great! Tara felt she didn’t share the Living Castle’s sense of humor, but she obediently followed the wizard. To be on the safe side, she decided to keep her eyes tightly closed until she figured they were past the abyss.
When she cautiously opened one eye, Tara was shocked all over again. She had just seen a spellbinder heading full tilt toward a desert and cactus landscape with a solid wall behind it. But he just waved his arm and went right through it! Chem was walking slowly enough for Tara to reach out and touch the wall, which felt completely solid. Had she imagined it? But a few moments later she saw a female spellbinder casually fly straight at another wall and go through it just as easily.
All right, message received loud and clear. The stone walls here weren’t actually walls, and you could pass through them without any problem. The trick, obviously, was to know how. The familiars accompanying the spellbinders must have also known the trick, because the walls yielded to them too. Still, Tara couldn’t help gritting her teeth each time she saw a spellbinder or a familiar heading for what looked like an inevitable and brutal collision.
Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders Page 6
