Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders
Page 24
When drivers ran a blue light, they usually didn’t get far. A redand-gold ifrit from the Imperial guard would materialize to write them tickets. Pile-ups weren’t too serious, because anti-collision spells kept people from getting hurt. Besides, it was hard to dent the radiator grille of a flying carpet.
As they flew deeper into the city, a terrible rainstorm hit. Tara instinctively hunched her shoulders, expecting to get wet, but got a surprise instead. Huge transparent bowls suddenly materialized over the city and hovered to catch the rain. When a bowl was full, it went to pour its contents into the river that flowed through town and was replaced by another bowl.
Paying no attention to the wind and thunder raging overhead, people were shouting, selling, buying (sometimes stealing, which raised a hue and cry), bartering, bargaining, crying, gesticulating, jumping, raging, and laughing in an extraordinary cacophony. Little garbage cans on legs ran hither and yon, looking for litter. When they spotted a piece they rushed over and gulped it down, sometimes pounding each other with their lids for the privilege.
Bright, colorful stores sold everything under the sun. Palaces and mansions outdid each other in luxury and beauty, their gleaming slate roofs forming striking patterns. (Tara’s grandmother would probably sniff contemptuously and call it flashy, but the city was pretty fantastic.) It was a feast for the eyes and the ears.
Tara was staring open-mouthed at a sumptuous palace when it suddenly began to waver, then vanished! A broken-down little house stood in its place. A man stormed out of the house and threw his hat on the ground in a fury. He waved his arms, and the palace reappeared!
Robin smiled to see Tara’s surprise.
“He must be having trouble mastering his spell. Or else he’s a tenant who hasn’t paid his rent, and the landlord is blocking his home improvement spell. In Omois, things are rarely what they seem at first.”
Tara saw the same thing happen several more times. Splendid houses would suddenly disappear, briefly revealing miserable hovels, then reappear in all their glory. Once it was the other way around: a small house trembled for a moment, showing a glimpse of splendid palace. Cal burst out laughing.
“That must be a spellbinder who’s in trouble with the Imperial tax authorities. He doesn’t want them to know that he owns a beautiful piece of property, so he disguises it as a little shack. Very ingenious!”
The rain stopped as quickly as it had started and the sun came out again. The transparent bowls disappeared.
Feeling somewhat stunned by the noise and traffic, the young spellbinders reached the Central Market, where Robin gave them some advice.
“Omoisians are OtherWorld’s businesspeople, and they’re better at business than any of the other races. There isn’t anything they won’t buy or sell, so be careful when dealing with them. They’ll offer you any number of things, saying that they’re good deals. What they don’t say is that they’re good deals for them, not for you!”
The carpets landed, and the high wizard indicated where to meet in case anyone got lost. Then they all eagerly dove into the crowds.
Robin hadn’t been kidding when he said that all OtherWorld came to Tingapore. Tara was able to recognize most of the races: imps (tiny, brown, very agile), gnomes (hunchbacked, bearded, surly), unicorns (white, cloven hoofs, golden horn, doe eyes), vampyrs (she decided to carefully avoid them), fairies (small, talkative, winged, multicolored), chimeras (as at Travia Castle, everyone cautiously stepped aside when they passed), and centaurs (half horse and half man or woman). But she couldn’t put a name to a cat-sized creature that sported a snake’s tail, lobster claws, and the head of a seagull, or another animal with a crocodile head framed by a lion’s mane, and the rear parts of a hippo!
The shapes and colors were strange enough, but the smells were simply staggering.
Tara had loyally shared her money with Cal, Sparrow, and Robin (over his fierce resistance), so they could all take advantage of the marvels on display.
A seller of magic flutes vied for their attention: “My beautiful, beautiful flutes are silver and gold. The music they make will beguile the most sensitive ear, even if you don’t know how to play!”
Next door, a fabric seller was shouting: “I have the finest velvets and the most beautiful silks in the entire Central Market. Feel my muslins, my organdy, my actarus wool, my giant spider silk.”
A leather merchant called: “Come see my merchandise! Look at my beautiful scarlet, purple, and black leathers. They don’t fade, they’re treated to stand up to rain and hard riding, and they don’t stretch out of shape. I’ve got every kind of leather: baby dragon, snake, fireproof salamander, Earth and OtherWorld cowhide, even deerskin from the elfin forests.”
Yet another merchant waxed poetical: “Pots and pans I have for you, for baking, roasting, or for stew. Ovens cast iron or Dutch, for pennies you can cook so much!”
The owner of a pet shop called to them: “Step right up, young gentle people! Come right in and experience the marvels of nature! Chameleon frogs, talking parakeets, tiny fire-breathing dragons, miniature manticores, immortal phoenixes, trained sphinxes, secondhand pegasi! Come in!”
A jewelry seller made eyes at the girls: “Look, young ladies! I have everything you need to set off your beauty, dream stones and love stones, green diamonds and blue sapphires, fire opals, glittering gold, soft silver, and shining vermeil. Look them over, try them on!”
A perfume merchant pulled stoppers from his flasks: “Love perfume, dream perfume, make your boyfriend lose his head, subtle scents, brutal scents, your scent will be all that exists!”
Tara was in a daze. She had never experienced such chaos. Frightened by the noise and the crowds, Gallant, Blondin, and Sheeba stayed close to their companions. Suddenly she noticed Master Chem casually wandering away from the other wizards. Without thinking, she hastened after him, followed by her three friends.
“What are you doing?” asked Sparrow, who’d reluctantly put down the perfume she was sampling to race after Tara.
“Look! Master Chem is trying to sneak off. Let’s follow him! Don’t lose sight of me!”
That wasn’t easy because they had to weave in and out of the dense crowd without attracting attention. After a few moments of this game, Master Chem glanced behind him. Tara, Cal, Robin, and Sparrow just had time to duck behind a peasant’s wagon, drawing a suspicious look from its owner.
Chem then stepped into a seedy-looking shop that dealt in spells and magic paraphernalia. The young people crept closer and Tara stood on tiptoe to try to see in through the magic shop’s grimy front window.
“I can’t see what he’s doing,” she whispered. “The window’s too dirty!”
“Then clean it,” muttered the ever-practical Sparrow.
“Nothing doing, most of the grime is on the inside. Wait a minute. I can see something, but—”
Tara suddenly crouched down, trembling.
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Cal worriedly.
“Master Chem is talking with a Bloodgrave!” she answered, looking very pale. “I can’t believe it!”
“My father always says you have to be very careful about appearances,” whispered Robin.
“Well, he’s definitely with a Bloodgrave!” whispered Cal, who had also taken a look. “What should we do?”
“He’s the head of the High Wizard Council,” said Tara bitterly.
“What are we supposed to do? Go see the other wizards and say, ‘Oh, by the way, Master Chem is buddies with the Bloodgraves’? For him to know them is one thing, but to be meeting them in the back of a shop is something else. Something in this business doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t know what’s going on anymore,” moaned Sparrow, “but this is terrible!”
“Listen, we can’t hang around,” said Robin nervously. “My dad says that when you’re in enemy territory you’ve got to keep moving. We better get out of here, or Chem’s gonna catch us!”
Tara’s head snapped up. “Y
ou’re right. Let’s go join the others. We have to discuss this calmly. And I must talk to my grandmother. She’s the only adult I can trust!”
“Same for me,” agreed Robin. “I have to tell my dad all about this. Something really out of the ordinary is going on.”
Scuttling over hunched down so nobody in the store could see them, the friends went to hide behind the wagon again. This time, its owner strode around to confront them, his four arms crossed on his chest.
“Hey kids, just what exactly d’you think you’re doing with my cart? ‘Cause if you want to steal it, you’ve got another think coming!”
Cal looked at the peasant, cast a scornful eye on the wagon, and said, “Why would we want to steal that rickety old thing? We—”
“Look! He’s coming out of the shop!” interrupted Robin.
Ignoring the angry peasant, they watched as Master Chem came out, cautiously looked around, then blended into the crowd.
The peasant grabbed each of them by the collar of their robes. “I don’t know what shenanigans you’re up to, but I don’t want any part of it. So get out of my way. Beat it!”
Lifting the four struggling kids high in the air, he gently set them down a few yards away.
“He’s lucky I gave my word to my mom,” snarled Cal as he dusted himself off, “cause his purse was right at my fingertips.”
“Yeah, well I’m glad you resisted the temptation because I don’t especially want to face the Imperial police,” said Robin. “All right, ready to go?”
“Let’s move,” said Tara. “The sooner we’re back, the sooner I’ll find a way to contact Grandma.”
Suddenly Sparrow whistled, “Wait, I just saw something!”
“What?” whispered Cal.
“It’s weird,” she said, “but it looks like Deria, and Master Dragosh is following her.”
“Oh, great!” complained Cal. “I bet you ten to one that Tara will want to—”
“Let’s follow them!” interrupted Tara.
“—follow them,” he said with resignation.
They went back the same way they’d come, because Deria was heading for the same store. She entered the dusty magic shop and disappeared. Master Dragosh did what the friends had done earlier: he posted himself near the window and watched.
“Okay, what do we do now?” asked Sparrow with a sigh. She was getting very anxious, what with everybody following everyone else.
“We wait,” said Tara, whose mind was working at full speed, “because I think what we have here is the explanation of the mystery.”
“Oh really?” whispered Cal. “Then it would be nice if you explained it, because for the moment it’s not clear to us at all!”
At that moment Deria came out, closely followed by a man with brown hair and a big nose. He was the same size and build as the Bloodgrave, except that his robe was yellow. The vampyr had just enough time to duck out of sight, and the two passed without noticing him. The four young spies were then surprised to see Dragosh turn into a large black wolf and follow them.
Leaving her friends flat-footed, Tara charged into the shop, followed by Gallant.
It was very dark inside, but she gradually made out an amazing clutter of vials, bottles, stuffed and caged animals, rusty weapons, and broken furniture.
From a corner, a wrinkled old man popped up at the ringing of the entrance bell.
“Good afternoon, Miss,” the old man quavered. “What can I do for you?”
Caught short, Tara stammered, “Er, I just came in to see what you sell.”
“Oh, that’s an old Earth language, if I’m not mistaken,” said the merchant, on hearing Tara speak. “Mind if I cast a double Interpretus, so I can understand you? Don’t answer in your language, just nod yes or shake your head no.”
Tara nodded and he recited the spell: “By Interpretus, we each come from a different land, but we want each other to understand.”
The merchant smiled. “That should be better. So tell me, what might you need? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No!” said Tara, blushing. (What a lame question!)
“No boyfriend, eh? That’s too bad, because I have some very effective love potions. They can keep a boy interested for a couple of centuries. If you don’t want a potion, maybe a trinket of some sort would appeal to you.”
“Er, sure, why not?” Tara said politely, who was wondering what her friends were doing and why they hadn’t come in yet.
“In that case I have just the thing. It’s a ring that makes you older for a few hours. If there’s something you’re not allowed to do because you’re too young, you switch it on and
Tara was tempted in spite of herself. But she reluctantly recognized that she had problems no spell could solve.
“No thank you, I prefer growing up normally,” she answered virtuously.
The old merchant chuckled. “You’re nobody’s fool, I see. The last person who bought this ring from me switched it on wrong and aged 150 years all at once. Let me see if I have something else for you. I know! Look at this marvel!”
He pulled a parchment scroll from a shelf and blew the dust off it, which set him coughing for a good minute. Then he unrolled it. To Tara’s astonishment, she saw that it was a map of OtherWorld—except that once it was unfolded, mountains arose, rivers flowed, tiny people filled the cities, and animals galloped across the fields.
“It’s . . . it’s wonderful,” said the dazzled girl. “I’ve never seen any map like it!”
“The map updates itself automatically,” explained the merchant, pleased with the impression he’d made. “As soon as a new road is built or a city street renamed, the map displays it. If you’re in one place and you want to go someplace else, just ask the map. It automatically knows where you are and indicates it with a red circle. It also tell you the number of days it takes to get somewhere on foot. You divide by three if you’re on horseback, and by five if you’re riding a pegasus. To get a detailed view of the place where you are, just recite the following spell: ‘By Detailus I need information about my specific location.’”
With astonishing speed, a map of Tingapore and all its streets appeared with a red circle floating above it. Tara could identify the city hall, the empress’s Palace, the municipal administration building (a dozen times bigger than the Palace!), and the merchant quarter.
“What if I wanted to walk to Lancovit?” she asked
“Unless you have gills, I don’t see how you’ll manage,” said the map snidely. “There’s an ocean between us and Lancovit, in case you didn’t know. Otherwise, on foot it would take you about two years— if you walk and swim fast.”
Well, I’ll be—a talking map! thought Tara, who liked its sense of humor. It would make a wonderful present for her grandmother, and she decided to buy it.
“What’s it worth?” she asked, reluctantly looking away from the fascinating spectacle.
Before the merchant could answer, the map said, “I’m priceless!”
“The map is actually right,” said the merchant, who was trying to guess how much money she had. “But I could let you have it for ten gold immuta-credits.”
Tara could tell that he’d just plucked the figure out of the air, so she pretended to leave. “I’m very sorry, but I don’t have that much on me. My master doesn’t want us to walk around with too much money. Actually, you just saw him. He came into your store a few minutes ago: a high wizard in a blue robe with silver dragons.”
As Tara moved toward the door, the old man shook his head and started rolling up the map.
“Wait, wait, don’t leave! Let’s discuss the price of the map. But as to the high wizard, you must be mistaken, young lady. No one besides you has come into my shop for more than an hour.”
“Really!” exclaimed Tara. “That surprises me, because I also saw another wizard here, a young woman.”
The old merchant shook his head again, but Tara saw a sly glint in his
eye.
“You must be confusing this with another shop, young lady. I assure you no one came in here. Now, for the map, I can give you a discount. Let’s say five gold creds.”
“One silver cred,” answered Tara firmly. “Are you sure you didn’t see anybody?
“Two gold creds, and I’m losing money at the price. And no, I didn’t see anything.”
“Hey, that’s not nearly enough!” gasped the map in a shrill voice.
“One silver cred,” said Tara, ignoring the map’s comment. “That’s the best I can do . . . unless you saw something.”
“One gold cred, and I’m slitting my own throat just to please you.”
“I don’t want you to lose money, Master Merchant,” said Tara politely, “and I value your good health. One silver cred.”
The old man moaned. “Eight silver creds, and that’s my best offer.”
“And that’s selling me at a discount!” howled the outraged map.
“In that case, I’m sorry,” said Tara with a sigh. “I’m also sorry that you haven’t seen anybody in your store for the last hour.”
The merchant squinted and then said thoughtfully, “I might remember something, but I now realize that this map is more valuable than I thought. Ten silver immuta-credits.”
Tara appeared not to care. “It’s too hard to put a value on your recollection. Two silver creds.”
“The old wizard came in and he talked with another man, then he left. That’s all I remember. Nine silver creds.”
“That’s only part of the information. What was the nature of the discussion? Three creds.”
“Alas, they put a silence shield around themselves, young lady. Eight creds.”
“Come on, you’re a master of spells. Who could keep you from listening whenever you wanted to? Four silver creds.”
“Your old wizard seemed angry at the other man. He reproached him for something that I really didn’t hear, and the man answered that it was the wizard’s own fault. The wizard said that he had been patient so far, but that all of OtherWorld would declare war on them unless the fids were returned. Then he left. Seven creds.”