Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders

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Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders Page 12

by Princess Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian

He spat.

  It was crude, but effective. It only moved Cal’s body about an inch backward, but that was enough for him to reach and grab onto Fabrice. Momentum brought them close enough to the walls so that they could seize them.

  Some pages and other spellbinders were training in the hall, and Chanfrein decided to recruit them, creating two teams. The Alpha team would consist of Cal and Fabrice, plus Skyler, Carole, Bea, and Tricia. The Gamma team would be Tara and Sparrow, plus Jane, Tanguy, Mo, and John.

  Tara carefully studied the layout of the chamber and its strange vegetation, then signaled to Sparrow and the others to join her behind a grove of trees that would hide them from their opponents’ eyes.

  “Listen,” she said. “Cal is very individualistic, and Fabrice is awkward with weightlessness. I don’t know the others, but I imagine that the Alphas and Gammas are pretty equal. But if we work as a team, we should be able to trap them. Take off your robes.”

  Sparrow stared at her in disbelief.

  “You want us to d-d-do what?”

  Tara flashed her an evil grin.

  “Don’t worry, I have no intention of sending you out there naked, though I’m sure it would completely rattle the boys, and the scoops would probably make you a star. I just want you to give me a robe—assuming you’re wearing something underneath, of course!”

  “I’m w-w-wearing shorts and a shirt,” said Sparrow, blushing. “B-b-but what do you want our robes f-f-for?”

  When Tara told them, her teammates erupted in admiring laughter. It was a downright diabolical plan, they said, and no one had ever tried it before.

  “All right, let’s go,” said Tara. “We have to eliminate Cal first. He’s probably the most dangerous person on their team.”

  Cal, Fabrice, and the rest of the Alphas planned to attack by splitting into two groups and shoving their opponents to the middle of the chamber where there weren’t any trees or walls for them to hold onto. So they were completely taken by surprise when Sparrow suddenly came flying toward them at the end of what looked like a rope and shoved Cal into the center of the chamber.

  Buzzing with excitement, the amazed scoops started filming the whole scene.

  Fabrice drifted to a branch and turned around to figure out what was happening. Meanwhile, John went to grab another tree and sent Mo soaring to neutralize Carole.

  Suddenly Cal understood the trick. Tara and the Gamma team had tied their robes together and were now using them as ropes, with a solid anchor at one end and a flying player on the other.

  “Hey, that’s cheating!” yelled Cal. “You can’t do that!”

  “Sure they can!” cried Master Chanfrein, smiling at the Gamma team’s ingenuity.

  Tara, who was stronger and heavier than Sparrow, chose anchors that allowed her to shoot the agile brunette off in any direction she wanted.

  After a few minutes’ chase around the chamber, Fabrice tried to liberate Cal. But Tara had anticipated his move and sent Sparrow flying toward him just in time. The smaller girl grabbed Fabrice’s heels and pushed him into the center of the chamber. He wound up floating near Cal, but not close enough to touch him. Meanwhile Cal was spitting in every direction, but without result.

  While Tara and Sparrow were dealing with Fabrice, Tanguy and Jane neutralized Bea. This left only Skyler and Tricia, who had taken refuge in a corner of the chamber they hoped was out of the Gammas’ reach and were desperately trying to free their teammates.

  Tara assigned Tanguy and Jane to make sure Skyler and Tricia couldn’t get near the other floating Alphas, while Mo anchored himself to a tree as close as he could get them. The two Alphas had decided to imitate their opponents, and were feverishly trying to knot their robes together. But Mo didn’t give them the chance. He and John linked up with Tara and Sparrow to make a four-person chain. Skyler and Tricia, who thought they were safe in their refuge, now saw Sparrow hurtling toward them. Tricia dropped the robes and Sparrow briskly propelled her to the center of the chamber. She then did the same to Skyler, who found himself floating helplessly before he realized what had happened. The entire Alpha team had been eliminated!

  Like demented paparazzi, the feverish scoops crowded around the triumphant winners while a few filmed the disappointed faces of the losers.

  “Well done, Gamma team!” shouted Chanfrein. “Congratulations on a very clever plan!”

  They grinned at the trainer’s praise as he slowly restored gravity, and everyone sank gently to the ground.

  “And the winner is . . . the Gamma team!” Chanfrein proclaimed.

  Laughing and joshing, the two teams left the hall, surprised by the applause that greeted them outside. Many of the Castle denizens had followed the match live, and flat-screen TVs were now rebroad-casting action shots of Tara’s trick.

  The story quickly made the rounds of the Castle, and Cal and Fabrice were a little grumpy during dinner. Tara acquired the reputation as a clever tactician, which made Angelica grit her teeth.

  The next day, Tara and half the Castle were awakened by an incredible racket. Intrigued, she quickly slipped on jeans and a T-shirt under the light blue spellbinder robe she’d gotten into the habit of wearing.

  Cal, Sparrow, and Fabrice, who were just as curious, joined her. Tracking the source of the noise, they were astonished to see a dozen cages containing some very strange beasts. Leaping around in their cages, they shed greasy feathers and shrieked insults at everyone within range.

  “I’ll be darned!” exclaimed Cal. “Harpies!”

  Harpies were hybrids, and female. Their heads and chests were human—Fabrice could hardly bring himself to look at their bare breasts—but their lower body was that of a giant eagle with sharp talons that dripped with a sticky liquid.

  “Don’t get near them, whatever you do!” shouted Cal as a curious Fabrice seemed about to approach. “Harpies are a plague in Other-World. The high wizards are studying them, but their poison is deadly and so far no one has come up with an antidote.”

  “Yikes!” exclaimed Fabrice, retreating cautiously. “Why do they scream like that?”

  “Oh, that’s how they communicate,” said Cal. “They don’t know how to speak normally, and if you want to get their attention you have to talk the way they do. Watch this.”

  Cal stepped a little closer and yelled: “Hey, you rotten crow droppings, daughters of crushed worms and cow flop!”

  The harpies settled down immediately. One of them hopped to the door of her cage, leaving a trail of smelly feathers behind, cocked her head, and croaked.

  “Rhooooo, dinner’s just been served, sisters! Check out the yummy little mongrel yapping at us!”

  But Cal kept his cool. Bowing sarcastically to the greasy bird-women, he said, “You half-plucked old chickens, you crudbottomed harpies, you eat with your feet and you’d make a jackal vomit!”

  “Not too bad” said a second harpy, hopping closer. “But your swearing isn’t punchy enough. Try something like this instead.”

  The harpy fired a curse that made Cal and Fabrice blush, and Tara and Sparrow gasp.

  “Ah, you see?” shrieked the harpy with satisfaction. “It’s a matter of getting the right rhythm. Let’s try this one.”

  The next volley of curses sent Sparrow stumbling backward, hands over her ears. But Tara bravely stood her ground.

  A harpy off to one side spoke to her.

  “Yellow hair, white strand, watery eyes. You’re the Duncan offspring, aren’t you?”

  Surprised, Tara nodded.

  “Er, yeah.”

  “I have a message for you from the Master of the Bloodgraves. Come closer.”

  Tara stepped forward, while carefully keeping her distance.

  “What do you want to tell me?” she asked.

  The harpy looked her up and down scornfully.

  “Can’t you even talk properly, you spellbinder squirt, you sick traduc snot?”

  Tara had no idea what a traduc was, much less a sick one, but she understood that
she would have to swear back at the harpy if she wanted to communicate with her. And the swearing called for both style and rhythm.

  “You moth-eaten hunk of carrion meat,” she shouted, “your breath would gag a hyena at twenty paces, and you reek worse than traduc turds!” (Hey, if it stinks, might as well use it.)

  “I like your style, yellow head,” cackled the harpy. “So I’m sorry I have to do—this!”

  With a violence that shook the whole cage, the bird-woman lunged at the cage door and popped it open.

  Before Cal could react, the harpy flew at Tara, burying her under a mass of filthy feathers. The second harpy was about to escape when Fabrice reflexively kicked the cage closed, almost knocking her out. Then Sparrow welded the lock shut, yelling, “By Mixus quickly seal this cage, weld its bars against their rage.” Meanwhile, Cal rushed over to Tara.

  On hearing the commotion, Masters Chanfrein and Dragosh burst into the room. The trainer fired a paralyzing Pocus, and the vampyr a deadly Destructus, but it was too late. When they lifted the dead bird-woman off Tara, they saw deep claw marks on the girl’s body, oozing poison.

  CHAPTER 7

  THE DEMONS OF LIMBO

  S tunned by the harpy’s assault, Tara didn’t feel any pain until the poison reached her bloodstream. When it did, it felt like liquid fire coursing through her veins, and she screamed in agony.

  First Counselor Salatar, who had witnessed the whole scene, now leaped forward. With Cal and Fabrice’s help, the chimera gently eased Tara onto his back before she fainted, wrinkling his elegant cape in the process.

  As the courtiers stared in amazement, Salatar nipped in the bud any possible comments about his role as a beast of burden.

  “If I hear even one crack, that person will pay a little visit to the Castle dungeons. Understand?”

  Deeply worried, the chimera bore Tara to the infirmary. It was actually a state-of-the-art hospital, where magic and earthly science combined to save people’s lives. Shaman Night Bird struggled against the poison all night long, but despite his great talent, without success. It was slowly paralyzing the girl, and since no antidote existed, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  Interrogated by T’andilus M’angil, Cal told the grim-faced secret services chief what he had discovered. The cage holding the harpies had been sabotaged, and its lock filed through. Master Dragosh had unfortunately been too efficient. His Destructus spell had killed the bird-woman instantly, so they couldn’t question her. The other harpies claimed not to know anything about the attack, and a Truth Teller brought in on an emergency basis confirmed it. Master M’angil was furious, and was interrogating every person in the Castle. The cages had been checked when they arrived, so only someone in the Castle could have sabotaged them.

  By morning, tortured by a thirst that water couldn’t slake, Tara began to feel she was dying. Their eyes red, Master Chem, Sparrow, Cal, and Fabrice had watched over her all night long.

  As she sank deeper into unconsciousness, she suddenly heard a velvety voice that she immediately recognized. She struggled to open her eyes and was startled by what she saw. The mirror mask of Magister, the Bloodgrave master, had appeared on the white infirmary wall!

  “Ah, Tara, I see you received my message,” chuckled the apparition, its mask turning blue with satisfaction.

  Master Chem leaped to his feet.

  “How dare you project yourself here, Bloodgrave!” he shouted, gesturing angrily at the apparition. “You’ll pay for this!”

  The image wavered briefly then spoke again: “Don’t even try. You can’t locate me. But I have a proposal for you, and I would advise you not to turn it down. Do you want this child to live? I can treat her; I have an antidote that can save her. But for her to get it, you have to give Tara to me.”

  “Never!” roared the dragon wizard.

  “Er, Master Chem, don’t you think Tara should be the one to decide?” suggested Cal. “After all, it’s her life.”

  The old wizard glared at him, but Cal stood his ground.

  “Tara?” asked Chem very gently. “Caliban is right. This has to be your decision.”

  “I . . . I don’t want to die,” she mumbled, confused and feverish.

  “We don’t have the antidote,” he said. “If you want to live, we have to hand you over to Magister.”

  “Whatever . . . whatever you say,” she said weakly, and passed out.

  “Very well, Magister, you’ve won,” said Chem darkly. “I won’t play games with the girl’s life. Tell me your conditions.”

  “Having you bow to my demands will be one of my life’s great joys,” he gloated. “Bring the girl to the Transfer Portal room in an hour. I will send one of my assistants to pick her up. Oh, and one more thing. Don’t try to use him as a bargaining chip in exchange for the antidote. It won’t work. I will abandon him without a moment’s hesitation and the girl will die. Is that clear?”

  “Quite clear.”

  The image vanished in a peal of scornful laughter.

  Chem waited cautiously until he was sure that the apparition could no longer hear or spy on them. Then he turned to the young spellbinders.

  “This time, we don’t have any choice,” he said calmly. “We’re going to have to use forbidden magic!”

  Sparrow, Cal, and the shaman turned pale.

  “What’s forbidden magic?” asked Fabrice.

  “The magic of Limbo. We’re going to need the help of a demon. It’s extremely dangerous, so you should all leave now.”

  “Out of the question,” countered the shaman brusquely. “She’s my patient. I managed to keep her alive all night and I’m not going to abandon her now.”

  “We won’t leave her either,” said Cal. “Tara’s our friend, and she would do the same for us. Tell us how we can help.”

  The old wizard seemed about to object, but he realized that he had very little time. Besides, Tara’s friends’ help could be valuable. He sighed.

  “Caliban, you’re a good thief, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am,” he said without false modesty. “Why do you ask?”

  “One of the harpies has laid an egg. It’s immature, but she kept it. Do you think you could steal it from her without getting scratched?”

  Cal smiled broadly.

  “Do you mean can I fool those stupid, greasy things? You must be joking, Master. You’ll have your egg in two minutes.” He rushed out of the infirmary.

  “Perfect,” said Chem. “Now it’s your turn, Sparrow. You know where my office is, don’t you?”

  “Yes, M-M-Master.”

  “I can’t leave Tara’s side, so I’m going to give you a difficult mission. I want you to get me a cursed book the Bloodgraves have been after for years. It’s called The Forbidden Book. Here’s what you’re going to have to do; listen carefully. First, I’ll reprogram your accreditation card so my wall-door will let you in. On the upper left-hand bookcase you’ll see a book called Comparative Anatomy of OtherWorld Fauna. Take it down and put it on my desk. Tap three times on page 3, and then ten times on page 20. Be careful not to make a mistake.”

  Sparrow nodded, looking serious.

  “My desk will shift aside, revealing a glass staircase,” Chem continued. “Go down it, skipping the fourth and seventh steps. At the bottom you will see two fire serpents. Crawl between them on your hands and knees. Whatever you do, don’t walk between them standing up; they’ll cut your head off. This passageway will bring you to The Forbidden Book, which is on a pedestal. Walk around the pedestal and pick up the flat stone hidden behind it. Quickly replace the book with the stone; you’ll have less than a second. When you’ve done that, climb the stairs, this time skipping the second step from the bottom, then the fifth. In the office, pick up the anatomy book without touching its pages and put it around the forbidden book to hide its cover, and bring all this to me. Do you need me to repeat that?”

  There certainly was no risk of anyone stealing Chem’s forbidden book!

  �
��No, Master, I understand,” Sparrow said firmly. She was so frightened, she had lost her stutter. “Tap three times on page 3 and ten times on page 20, skip the fourth step and then the seventh, replace the book with the stone, bring it upstairs skipping the second and fifth steps, put the anatomy book around the forbidden book, and bring them to you. Got it! I’m on my way.”

  As Sparrow ran off, Chem turned to Night Bird and to Fabrice, who wasn’t quite sure how he could help.

  “Take Fabrice to the forest and dig up three Kalorna roots,” said Chem. “Use the boy as bait.”

  “Exactly what do I have to do?” asked Fabrice a little nervously.

  “Not a thing,” said the shaman with a faint smile. “Kalornas hide underground when they sense danger. But if you sit quietly without threatening them, their curiosity will bring them back up and I’ll be able to capture them. Let’s go.”

  With a wave of his hand, Chem levitated Tara in the center of the room, floated several finely engraved goblets around her motionless body, and put burning herbs in them. Though unconscious, the girl softly moaned in pain, and each moan made the old dragon wizard tremble. He began his preparations by magically reinforcing Tara’s defenses.

  There was a sudden commotion outside, and Cal burst into the infirmary carrying a large gray egg.

  “Hooo-boy!’ he crowed gleefully. “The harpies didn’t like that one bit, but I was able to get the egg. Anything else I can do for you?”

  “No, thank you,” said the wizard. “This is perfect. Are you sure you want to stay, Caliban? It will be terribly dangerous, you know.”

  “The question is, do you need us?”

  “To be honest, yes, I do,” said Chem with a sigh. “You are Tara’s friends, and I’ll need you to hold her hands as tightly as you can, and not to let her go for any reason. Think you can do that?”

  “I can’t speak for the others,” said Cal, “but as far as I’m concerned, I won’t let her go.”

  The shaman, Fabrice, and Sparrow returned at the same time. The Kalorna roots were wriggling in a jar, and Sparrow had successfully retrieved The Forbidden Book, though her singed hair suggested that it hadn’t been easy.

 

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