Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders

by Princess Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian

  “Goodbye, Master Chem,” she said, bowing politely. “Goodbye, Lady Kalibris.”

  Tara and Cal went out, followed by Manitou, who cautiously gave the dragon wizard a wide berth.

  “The high wizard’s private crystal number, eh? That’s the first time I’ve ever seen it handed out like that,” said Cal, not expecting an answer. Once out of the office, he asked, “So, what did you think of Lady One-Too-Many?”

  Tara giggled. “The administrator? How is it that she has two heads?”

  “She’s a tatris. Her species has two brains in one body, which makes things complicated when they disagree. So you’re the high wizard’s guest, eh? Are your parents here too?”

  Tara hesitated for a moment then said simply, “No. They’re both dead.”

  The boy stopped short in the middle of the hallway, almost tripping a courtier wearing a yellow jerkin covered with purple feathers and green fur-trimmed slippers, who glared at them.

  “I’m really sorry. My tongue works a little too fast sometimes.”

  “That’s okay. You couldn’t have known. My grandmother Isabella raised me all alone but she didn’t want me to be a spellbinder. I found out about that just recently.”

  “Oooh, so you don’t know anything about Travia or OtherWorld?”

  “I don’t know anything about anything!”

  A wide smile lit up Cal’s face.

  “That’s great! Finally someone who won’t put on airs and parade her knowledge. I think you and I are gonna be pals, Tara.”

  Tara wanted nothing more than that, but right now she had a specific question in mind, and Cal seemed very well informed.

  “What’s a blood oath?”

  He looked at her curiously.

  “A blood oath—wow! Do you know any warriors?”

  “Eh, no,” she said, intrigued. “Why?”

  “A blood oath is sworn during battle, when two warriors are hurt by the same enemy. If one is dying, the other will swear on their mixed blood to seek revenge or do anything else the dying person asks.”

  “I see,” said Tara thoughtfully. “So if one of the warriors made the other swear that his son or daughter would never become a wizard—because that’s what got him killed, say—what happens if the oath is broken?”

  “The person who swore the blood oath dies.”

  She took a deep breath. Isabella had sworn a blood oath, which meant that if she, Tara, used her power, she might kill her grandmother! Well, given what she had suffered because of magic these last few days that was not going to be a problem. It was hardly likely that she would want to use her powers ever again.

  “Hm, thanks. And do you know something called the Gray Fortress?”

  The boy thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t. What is it?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just something I heard about.”

  Tara hoped that Cal would know the place where her mother was held prisoner, and was disappointed.

  Suddenly she felt an odd sensation, a kind of tickling between her shoulder blades, as if somebody was staring at her back. She spun around and glimpsed a fleeting movement and a flash of gray cloth.

  To Cal’s surprise, she raced off in that direction, but when she reached an intersection of two hallways, nobody was there.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” asked Cal, who had followed her.

  “Nothing,” said Tara, frowning. “Tell me: these robes and tunics, you know, the things people wear here, what color are they?”

  “We don’t wear any particular color, except for the high wizards. In Jaffar they wear red, green in Brandis, purple and gold in Omois, and blue here, because the Castle colors are silver and blue. Why?”

  “Just curious. So nobody wears dark gray?”

  It was now Cal’s turn to frown.

  “Only Bloodgraves wear that color. That’s why they’re also called the gray spellbinders. There’s no rule against it, but people avoid dressing like them.”

  Tara took a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

  “Am I going to get an explanation?”

  Tara flashed him a bright smile and said, “I forgot to tell Master Chem something. Will you excuse me for a moment?”

  A very curious Cal peered at her, but agreed.

  “Go ahead; I’ll wait for you here.”

  Tara sprinted back to Lady Kalibris’ office, but found it empty.

  Darn! she thought. Couldn’t these spellbinders stay put for just a moment?

  She went back to where Cal was waiting.

  “Master Chem wasn’t there. Any idea where he might be?”

  “Well, in his office, I guess.”

  “Oh yeah, right! I should’ve realized he’d have an office. Since he’s a dragon, I stupidly assumed it would be a cave or a cavern. Do you know the Castle well?”

  Cal’s shoulders slumped.

  “Inside and out, believe me,” he said gloomily. “I’ve been Master Sardoin’s apprentice for the last two years. He specializes in magical mathematics and spatial localization, so he’s had me materialize and dematerialize at least a thousand times in every corner of the Castle, supposedly because I must always know where I’m landing. Except for forbidden zones I know it like the back of my hand.”

  “Great then, let’s go. You can show me the way.”

  The first time Tara passed through a wall, it left her feeling creepy for a good ten minutes. Cal showed her how to spot passages, which were marked with the Lancovit moon and unicorn symbol. You waved your accredi-card, the unicorn let you pass, and the wall melted away. You could also use a regular door, of course, but there were many more passages than doors.

  When they reached the wall outside Chem’s office, Tara noticed it was marked by a tiny unicorn statue but also by the wizard’s personal symbol, a dragon. Each statue stood in a little niche. Tara, who didn’t know quite how to proceed, knocked timidly on the wall. She was startled when both the unicorn and the dragon came to life.

  “Who goes there?” roared the guardian dragon.

  “It’s a girl, can’t you see?” snapped the unicorn. “What do you want, my child?”

  “Er, my name is Tara Duncan and I want to see Master Chem as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll tell him,” grumbled the dragon. “And you”—to the unicorn— “don’t open the passage until you get my order.”

  “Yeah, yeah, sure,” said the unicorn, rolling its eyes.

  Tara was so fascinated by this that she didn’t immediately notice the return of the dragon, who looked surprised.

  “The High Wizard will receive you right away. You may enter.”

  “Go ahead, Tara. I’ll wait for you out here,” said Cal, who didn’t want to seem indiscreet.

  She gritted her teeth and walked into the wall, which politely gave way. Whew! She was through, but good grief! How much she preferred the good old-fashioned doors on Earth.

  Tara was amused to see that for Master Chem’s office, the Living Castle had created a cave landscape with stalagmites and stalactites. A large heap of gold coins and precious stones stood where the old wizard probably rested between meetings.

  A noise made her glance up, and she backed away when she saw that Chem had reverted to his dragon shape. He stood twenty feet tall and was smiling at her with his sharp teeth. Like all dragons, he was exceedingly fond of gold and jewels. With the wave of a claw, he made his treasure disappear.

  “So little Tara, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” He seemed relieved to see that Tara had no interest in his gold.

  Tara decided to get down to brass tacks instead.

  “There’s a Bloodgrave in the Castle!” she said.

  CHAPTER 5

  APPRENTICE SPELLBINDERS

  “Ouch!” roared the dragon, who had banged his head in surprise.. “What did you say?”

  “I said there’s a Bloodgrave in the Castle. I just glimpsed part of his gray robe.”

  “What?” Chem roared again, making
the walls shake. “In the Royal Travia Castle? In my domain? Do you mean to say that those sawed-off runts in gray nightshirts dare to challenge me on my home ground? I will track them down, I will find them, I will break them, and I will eat their hearts! This is war!”

  Tara decided not to argue with him, not at all.

  “Right—war. No problem. But it would be nice if you could stop yelling,” she added politely, pulling her fingers from her ears. “So while we’re waiting for the festivities—destroying, crushing, eating their hearts, and so forth—what can I do to help?”

  “Nothing,” said the dragon. “Just keep me informed of anything that strikes you as unusual or strange. And if you ever see that twerp in gray rags again, let me know right away.”

  Tara shrugged helplessly. The old wizard was asking a lot, since everything in this world seemed unusual and strange to her.

  “I don’t know why a Bloodgrave would walk around the Castle in a gray robe,” she remarked. “Wouldn’t that be the best way to get caught?”

  “He’s defying me,” rumbled the dragon, also shrugging his shoulders, which fanned a small tornado, since the shoulders in question were attached to twenty-foot wings. “The Bloodgraves are among us, and we have no way of knowing which of us has joined their alliance. He also wants to frighten you. Let you know that he’s here, watching you.”

  Tara shivered. In regards to her that was a complete success. She was frightened.

  “But isn’t it possible to recognize them? From their size or their build?”

  The dragon sighed, barely containing a blast of fire so as not to burn Tara to a crisp.

  “You don’t understand, I see,” he said. “By Alakazam transform this state, from my dragon to my human shape.”

  Tara turned pale. Standing in front of her instead of the dragon was a powerful Bloodgrave, the dark gray of his robe stretched across broad shoulders. He was taller than the old wizard, and a mirror mask hid his face.

  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 doo
rs 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.”