At last the high wizards took their places in the bleachers and the tryouts began. A panel of four apprentice spellbinders lined up and the wizards fired commands at them.
“Flowers!”
The apprentices cast spells, made magic passes, and flowers appeared—lots of flowers. Blue, red, violet, yellow, and some that were all those colors combined. Other flowers, with big mouths full of sharp spines, hopped and leaped about, snapping at the wizards.
“Animals!”
New spells and new passes treated the spectators to a giant golden gobbling bird like a turkey (“Hey, it’s a looky-look,” said an amused Cal), a blue and white frog, a six-legged stag with no antlers, and a tiny pink, furry animal whose head was hard to tell from its tail. (“I’ll be darned, it’s a snaptooth!” whispered Sparrow. “They’re very rare.”)
One of the apprentices obviously had a sense of fashion, because his looky-look’s color exactly matched the bouquet of flowers he had just created.
“Trees!”
Trees immediately shot up out of nowhere and grew to the ceiling. Tara now understood why the hall was so high.
The big looky-look was prancing about near the little snaptooth when it suddenly got a bad surprise. The pink fur ball abruptly doubled in size, opened a pair of terrifying jaws, and swallowed it whole. It then stuck out a huge blue tongue and licked its chops with a satisfied
The high wizards signaled to the apprentices who’d created the frog and the stag that they were eliminated. The stag barely escaped a tragic fate when its creator made it disappear from right under the astonished snaptooth’s nose.
This left the two apprentices who had conjured the looky-look and the snaptooth. The wizards looked at them and shouted, “Portal!”
The first apprentice panicked and froze. The second waved his fingers as if sketching a door in the air and illuminating it. Then he recited: “By Transferus, Portal, open wide. Transfer me to the other side.”
A spark briefly glowed at the end of his index finger, but then went out.
With nods to each other, the wizards dismissed the two apprentices and made all their creations disappear, just as the pink fur ball attacked an aggressive flower and started chewing on its petals.
The next four apprentices stepped forward. New flowers, new animals, new trees. The animals conjured were extremely varied: a moose with two heads, one at each end; a fox that hopped around like a kangaroo; a giant rabbit that disdained carrots and preferred to hunt wolves; a whole series of felines that made Earth tigers look like pussycats—half insect and half mammal, they were equipped with an array of claws, antennae, and pincers; and finally some pegasi whose colors made Gallant whinny: green with faint orange stripes, and silver with red or blue polka dots.
But each time the apprentices came to the Portal challenge, things got complicated. One candidate was so tense he almost threw up on the high wizards and was able to run outside only just in time.
Two of the Omoisian apprentices were finally able to create Portals, but they looked pretty dicey. Lady Auxia tartly remarked that she wouldn’t use them if her life depended on it.
The competition also involved tests of speed and artistic creativity: making balls, jewels, and various objects appear, and decorating the hall in different colors.
The Lancovit apprentices did quite well, cheered on by their high wizards: Deria, Boudiou, Dragosh, Chem, Sirella (floating in her bubble), Den’maril, and the rest. When Angelica’s turn came, Tara thought that she would do her best so as to be presented to the empress. Curiously, Angelica seemed to botch her presentation. She was eliminated, but departed with a small, superior smile at the corner of her mouth. Cal was also eliminated. When the high wizards shouted “Cakes!” he decided it would be fun to squirt them with whipped cream. “We are not amused,” one said stiffly.
The judges’ verdicts weren’t always understandable. They sometimes eliminated apprentices who had created wonderful things, while favoring others who seemed to have less talent.
Damien, who came in late, appeared on a panel with the last three Lancovit spellbinders: Sparrow, Robin, and Tara.
Damien looked serious and focused. When given the order “Balls” he reacted like an ace sharpshooter. He moved his hand like lightning while muttering a few words, and six multicolored balls popped into the air. Tara was so fascinated she almost forgot her own demonstration. She closed her eyes and concentrated, and a multicolored swarm of balls started dancing in front of her. When she opened them, she first noticed that Damien was glowering at what she had created, and that Sparrow was trying not to laugh. Then she realized that hundreds of balls were bouncing and jumping around her.
People—especially the Omois wizards and apprentices—were staring at her in such amazement that she lost her focus, and also her hold on the balls, which fell to the ground. Good grief, she thought to herself, she’d visualized three balls, not three hundred! With the demonic gift gone, she was obviously going to have to learn to control her magic all over again.
Lady Auxia cleared her throat and spoke: “Very interesting! This girl really has excellent potential. All right, it’s time for your familiars, please!”
Each apprentice created a circle within which their familiar leaped, danced, or flew. (Damien’s familiar was a kestrel.) Gallant cordially disliked the flaming hoop; he flew a little too close and singed a feather.
Tara had no intention of performing magic in front of the empress so she made sure to be slower than Damien, Sparrow, and Robin. Given the lack of control over her blasted gift, she couldn’t afford to be chosen.
It didn’t work out that way.
When Lady Auxia read out the list of successful apprentices, Tara heard her and Sparrow’s names, and moaned. Sparrow didn’t seem all that happy either. She was an excellent spellbinder, she loved magic, and she liked having her talent recognized. But she had a secret, and was worried about appearing before the entire Omois imperial court. What if somebody recognized her? Cal, on the other hand, was delighted and laughed at his two friends’ long faces.
The apprentices were told to go freshen up and change their clothes.
Back in their rooms, they found that the Lancovit high wizards had left them a present: new ceremonial robes cut from a beautiful fabric that they could decorate any way they pleased. Tara took a quick shower, carefully fixed her hair, and pulled on her robe. She slightly enhanced the glittering silver pattern of pegasi and horses, making them practically come to life. And she made sure to bare the shining colors pattern at her throat.
When Sparrow saw her, she couldn’t help exclaiming, “Tara! You look fabulous!”
“Thanks. You look pretty good yourself!”
Sparrow had also worked on her robe, and it set off her darker skin and eyes very attractively.
Cal and Robin joined them and they went down together to the heart of the imperial palace, the Double Throne Room. What they found looked more like a grandiose cathedral.
Tara commented: “I would have bet that the decor would be overwhelming!”
That was certainly the word for it. The walls gleamed, and on the animated tapestries unicorns leaped, giants ripped chunks of stone from the mountain and ate them, imps gamboled, elves hunted, and wizards cast spells. There was enough gold around to rival Fort Knox, and it was bright enough to blind you.
A majordomo with a face so impassive it could have been carved from granite—it was gray with small white specks—appeared and asked them to follow him. When everyone was gathered round, he explained court etiquette.
“The apprentices who were not selected for the demonstration are to stand on either side of the two thrones,” he said. “Those who were chosen will remain here at the entrance to the hall. When their names are called they will enter two by two, take fifteen steps and bow, take another fifteen steps and bow again, and take a final
fifteen steps and bow. Their Imperial Majesties may do you the honor of asking questions. Answer with either ‘Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,’ or ‘No, Your Imperial Majesty.’ At their command you will perform your demonstration. When finished, you will bow again and, without turning your backs on their Imperial Majesties, go stand next to the other apprentices. Is that clear?”
They all nodded, suitably impressed. Satisfied, the majordomo led them to the threshold of the hall and gave them a final piece of advice.
“Remember, not a sound during the demonstrations! It would be disastrous if one of the selected apprentices lost his or her concentration. Magic that escapes its conjurer can have dangerous consequences, and their Imperial Majesties’ guards are trained to react in a split second. We would like to avoid any regrettable accidents—to you.”
Cal gulped when he saw the menacing-looking guards, who were armed with swords, knives, and all sorts of cutting and chopping implements. He decided he wouldn’t move a muscle.
Though the hall was huge, it was three quarters filled with a noisy, chatting crowd of courtiers.
The apprentices went to stand facing each other on either side of the throne. Cal winked at Sparrow and Tara, who were looking greener by the second. A deafening trumpet fanfare announced the Empress and Emperor of Omois, and the entire room bowed as one. Tara and Sparrow were so far away that the two rulers taking their seats on the imposing thrones looked like dolls. The high wizards, arrayed in a half circle, chanted spells and levitated, to sit crosslegged in the air.
Two Omois apprentices were called and the presentations began.
In showing off their talents to the entire imperial court, the apprentices displayed wonderful creativity. Jewels shaped like butterflies materialized and fluttered around the hall, landing on the amused courtiers’ heads. Glittering eggs cracked opened to reveal smaller eggs, which revealed yet smaller eggs, eventually yielding tiny birds made of precious stones that began to sing when the last shell cracked open. Shining salamanders appeared to leap at the jeweled butterflies, which took off all together in a dazzling flight.
A surprised murmur arose from the crowd when one of the apprentices showed Emperor Sandor a simple black wooden disk. When he reached for it, the apprentice whispered something, and the emperor gestured to one of his guards. The soldier took the disk and set it on his chest, where it stuck without apparent support.
Fast as lightning, the young spellbinder caused razor-sharp throwing stars to appear and hurled them at the guard. The empress couldn’t retain a gasp of horror. But just as the metal points seemed about to skewer the man, the black disk intercepted each of the five throwing stars, and did it so quickly, it was practically invisible. Not a single one got past it. Wow! thought Cal, a super bulletproof vest that was light, compact, and effective.
Finally it was their turn. With Sparrow at her side, Tara walked a few steps and bowed, took more steps and bowed again, accompanied by envious murmurs from young women who were leaning closer to better see the beautiful pattern glittering at Tara’s throat. From the comments she could overhear, Sparrow realized that the fashion launched at Lancovit was about to sweep Omois.
Tara found herself facing the empress.
When she looked up, she had a shock. She knew her! Or rather she seemed strangely familiar at second glance. Yet Tara had obviously never met her before. What an odd feeling . . .
The empress was very impressive. Tall and slim, she sat on a throne shaped like the symbol of the Empire, a purple, hundredeyed peacock whose proud beak rose above her. Despite an impassive face, the empress’s deep blue eyes seemed kind. She was wearing seven different colored robes, each one shorter than the last. The top robe was white, sewn with jewels that ranged from white to ruby red, and made a shimmering ripple every time she breathed.
She had no doubt dyed her hair, because its subtle dark scarlet perfectly matched her robe and throne. Held only by the imperial crown, the hair enveloped her in a sumptuous living cape and tumbled to her tiny feet, which were shod in sandals with fine ruby straps.
Next to her sat the emperor, his shorter blond hair in a thick braid resting on his right shoulder. He was equally impassive, and he looked at Tara coolly. His posture was more military, and he wore an embossed steel breastplate over his imperial robes. A simple gold crown circled his head, and a saber with a finely engraved pommel lay at his side. He looked dangerous. Dangerous and competent.
The majordomo announced them: “The guest of High Wizard Chemnashaovirodaintrachivu and the apprentice of Lady Kalibris: Tara’tylanhnem Duncan and Gloria Daavil. Young ladies, you may conjure the object of your choice.”
Tara decided she really liked the empress’s style. Let’s see, she has such wonderful hair, she thought, how about a golden snood strewn with sapphire flowers to match her eyes? Nah, too banal. She can do better that that. Then she got an idea . . .
Tara looked at Gallant while visualizing a glass and gold statue of a pegasus poised to take flight. Her white forelock crackled, and the audience gasped in surprise when a splendid statue materialized.
Tara had noticed that people in Omois liked big things, but in this case she may have gone a bit overboard. The glittering statue was enormous, with each muscle and hair limned in glass and gold. As a whole it was breathtakingly elegant.
For her part, Sparrow had decided to play up to the emperor, so she created a beautiful cigar box with a built-in humidor, decorated with centaurs and unicorns. A ghost of a smile appeared on the imperial lips, and she knew she had chosen well. Her box was less impressive than Tara’s present, but Sparrow was still pleased with herself.
The majordomo signaled to the guards to take the gifts away, then spoke again: “Thank you. You may now present your familiars.”
Gallant and Sheeba approached the thrones. The majordomo was about to have them go into action when the emperor spoke.
“Wait a minute,” he said in a deep bass voice. “That’s a pegasus! Why is your familiar so small?”
How could Tara answer him, since she was only allowed to say yes or no? She looked over at Chem who nodded that it was all right.
To be on the safe side, she bowed before saying anything.
“He is indeed a pegasus, Your Imperial Majesty”—or was it “Majestic Highness”? She couldn’t remember!—“I miniaturized him so he could come indoors with me.”
“Ah, very interesting,” he exclaimed in his unusual voice. “But that means you have an unfair advantage over your friend here. Would you mind restoring it to its normal size?”
No problem, she thought.
“I’d be happy to, Your High Majesty.” Turning to Gallant, she said, “By Normalus it would be wise if you regained your normal size.”
The magnificent pegasus grew to its full size, looming over the admiring assembly.
“Hm, I can see why you made him smaller,” said the emperor as he looked Gallant over carefully. “He’s very big, even for a pegasus.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.”
“Very well, show us what you can do. But given your familiar’s size, please start alone. We will see your friend perform after you.”
“Yes, Your High Majesticness.”
Tara sounded confident, but she was actually very nervous. She could easily conjure flaming hoops for a small pegasus, but creating one for a full-size winged horse was something else again. She glanced nervously at the hall’s flammable coffered ceiling, and regretted that Omoisians so loved building with wood, especially wood that was rare and dry.
The others must have picked up on her anxiety because Tara noticed that Sparrow looked tense, and the spellbinders were suddenly watching very closely.
Tara took a deep breath and looked upward, and a huge flaming hoop appeared. Gallant leaped into the air and flew through it, without his vast wings even brushing the hoop’s edges.
It was a spectacular scene, and Tara was heaving a sigh of relief when she suddenly felt a sharp pain at her neck. It ab
ruptly broke her concentration.
To her horror, the flaming hoop expanded and started to fill the hall with a terrific fireball that Gallant was barely able to avoid. But the crowd thought she had done this deliberately, and everybody applauded.
Despite the pain, Tara managed to regain control of her magic. She was able to extinguish the flames, which were getting dangerously close to the wooden ceiling, as Gallant returned to the ground.
When a pegasus is frightened, it bristles, and when Gallant landed, still trembling, next to Tara, he looked like a huge ball of feathers. She wiped away the sweat running into his eyes. They had barely avoided a catastrophe!
CHAPTER 12
DEADLY VORTEX
The empress and emperor were satisfied and had Sheeba perform with Sparrow. Then Tara miniaturized Gallant, and the two friends left as another pair of apprentices took their places.
Once back with Cal and Robin, Tara was finally free to touch her neck. To her horror, her hand came away covered with blood.
“What happened to you?” Sparrow screamed.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I was trying to maintain the flaming hoop when something stung me. I lost my focus and very nearly killed Gallant and set the palace on fire.”
“You mean you didn’t do that on purpose?” exclaimed Cal, wide-eyed. “It was a terrific show.”
“I didn’t do any of it,” Tara said bitterly, who was in pain. “I have no idea what happened.”
When Robin examined her wound, he got a surprise. “That’s a blood fly sting!”
“A what ? ”
“A blood fly, an insect that mostly bites cattle. There’s no way it could have gotten into the palace by itself. There are insect-repellent spells all over the place.”
“Someone was trying to make you lose your concentration, and I think I know who,” said Cal, who was scanning the crowd. “Wait a moment.” Quick as a fox, he darted off between the spellbinders and courtiers, and disappeared.
Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders Page 21
