Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders

by Princess Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian

  “All right, can somebody explain things to me?” interrupted Cal. “Because I’m all at sea here, so to speak.”

  With a wicked smile, Magister dropped his bombshell.

  “Tara is the Imperial Spellbinder, heir to the throne of Omois and the direct descendant of Demiderus. Her father was Emperor Danviou T’al Barmi Ab Santa Ab Maru, the empress’s brother!”

  Cal opened his mouth and then closed it again, stunned. He wasn’t alone. Robin and Tara were staring at Magister as if he had lost his mind.

  “You and the Empress of Omois are the only people who can enter this temple, Tara. Those-Who-Guard are its first line of defense. Those-Who-Judge are its second. These defenses were put in place thousands of years ago. It was through this place—this rift—that the demons tried to invade Earth. When the dragons defeated them, they decided to sink Atlantis to keep anyone from opening the rift.

  “Demons aren’t very smart,” continued Magister bitterly. “In seeking revenge, they tried to kill the descendents of the five high wizards, without realizing that they were imprisoning themselves forever. Only you and the empress are left, and she isn’t available. So you’re going to enter the temple and get me through the circle of Those-Who-Judge.

  “And by the way, I sent Deria into another dimension to carry out a mission I assigned her. Your mother, on the other hand, is here in the temple. I’ve extended the deadly spell to cover her. She won’t turn into crystal, but Those-Who-Judge must be aware of her presence by now, and are about to rip her to shreds. You only have a few minutes to save her.”

  “You monster!” cursed Tara, her jaw clenched, and then she reluctantly ordered Those-Who-Guard to release him. Magister brushed himself off, and with an ironic bow offered her the lead. Robin and Cal fell in behind him, ready to intervene.

  Her heart pounding, Tara entered the temple. The stone was still slippery from the ocean water and they had to be careful not to fall. Walking silently between the carved columns, they reached the center of the building, where a gigantic statue awaited them. A forgotten, once all-powerful god brandished a lightning bolt in his left hand and a spear in his right.

  Before him stood an altar.

  On the altar lay Tara’s mother.

  Surrounded by Those-Who-Judge.

  Those-Who-Guard had a definite physical presence, but Those-Who-Judge were immaterial spirits. Their hovering shapes turned eyeless faces to them. And those shapes had fangs and claws, which they could make perfectly tangible—and deadly.

  Tara bowed and confidently declared, “I am Tara’tylanhnem T’al Barmi Ab Santa Ab Maru, the daughter of Danviou T’al Barmi Ab Santa Ab Maru, and a descendant of Demiterus T’al Barmi. My mother, Selena Duncan, has been brought here against her will by this human, Magister. I demand justice.”

  “You can demand all you like,” said Magister coldly. “They don’t judge actions. They are here only to prevent the demons from reopening the rift without one of the heirs’ permission. Now we’ll find out if your blood is pure enough to satisfy them!”

  The spirits suddenly started whirling around Tara, who began to panic. Then, without warning, they dove and poured into her skull. She screamed and collapsed.

  Cal and Robin were about to leap into action when Magister stopped them.

  “Don’t move, or we’ll all die!” he yelled. “Let Those-Who-Judge act. They won’t hurt her if they recognize her as the heir.”

  “And what if they don’t?” screamed Robin, enraged.

  “Then we can measure our life expectancy in seconds.”

  “You’re a total nut job!” cried Cal. “I’m going to—”

  No one would know what he would do, because Tara suddenly rose into the air, eyes wide open, glowing. Beneath her, the altar holding her mother’s unconscious body opened, and Robin barely had time to catch her before she fell.

  A gigantic black throne, hideously carved with demons and deformed animals, rose from the opening, taking its place under Tara exactly in the center of the room. Radiating intense heat, it quickly became red hot.

  “The Throne of Silur,” murmured a marveling Magister. “At last!”

  The light from Tara’s body hit the throne, which began to glow in turn. The head of a grotesque demon was carved on the top of the throne. A burning ray of red light shot from its revolting mouth into the eyes of the forgotten god looming massively over them.

  With a terrible creaking, the statue raised its head. The ray now shone from its eyes to illuminate a drawing of a human in a spellbinder robe on the ceiling, and the temple roof split open in two halves.

  The brilliant, cold moon appeared above them. Its beams fell on the throne, giving it a reddish halo. Tara’s body stopped glowing, and she very slowly stepped down from the throne. She had remained conscious during the process.

  Seeing that Magister was no longer paying her any attention, she rushed to her mother, whom Robin had stretched out behind a column.

  “Is she all right?” she asked anxiously.

  “Yes, she’s just unconscious,” he murmured. “What do we do now?”

  “Those-Who-Judge explained the process to me,” she said gravely. “Now that the temple is open, Magister will start his incantations to open the rift. By opening it, he will appropriate the throne’s demonic powers, but at the same time he is opening a passage for the demons! He doesn’t care, so long as he gets the power, but the demons will be unleashed on the Earth. It will be the Apocalypse. Under the demons’ rule, humans will become cattle, serving only to feed them. Our species will disappear! I think I have found a way to prevent that, but you’re going to have to protect me, because I will be completely defenseless. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Do what you have to do,” whispered Robin. “I’d give my life for you.”

  Tara blushed.

  “I’ve already almost died twice today,” said Cal, shrugging in resignation, “so once more or less makes no difference! Let’s do it!”

  Magister was standing under the throne. When the moonbeams struck the carved stone, they turned red. Reciting incantations, he seized the beams, made them material, and wove them like threads of cold light, creating a Portal that appeared on the wall.

  Taking a deep breath, Tara went to stand behind her two friends, who had generated a powerful magic shield.

  She concentrated, and a dazzling blue ray shot from her hands. Magister thought she was aiming at him and put up a shield as well. But the ray passed over his head and instead hit the Throne of Silur.

  Tara had realized that she couldn’t defeat Magister, so she was going after the object he most desired. The throne was burning with the demonic energy it contained, so she wasn’t shooting not a ray of fire, but a ray of ice. When it hit the glowing throne, an enormous cloud of steam arose.

  “Noooo!” yelled the infuriated Bloodgrave. “I’m going to stop you! ‘By Destructus may these children die, and from these sacred precincts fly!’“

  His destructive energy slammed into the shield Cal and Robin had conjured, but the two young spellbinders summoned all their strength and managed to resist it.

  Meanwhile, Tara drew on the depths of her fear and her anger to amplify her power. Suddenly she could feel it flowing in her veins. Her eyes turned entirely blue and the icy ray reached its full force, enveloping the throne in a bluish glow. The stone groaned, torn by the vast temperature gap between its internal fire and the ray’s intense cold.

  Realizing that he didn’t have time to kill the two young spellbinders, Magister returned to his incantations, racing to beat Tara and appropriate the demonic throne’s power.

  Bent to Magister’s monstrous will, the moonbeams had almost finished weaving the passage. Demonic energy was escaping from Limbo in a flood of black light that washed over the throne and into his body, feeding his power. Unfortunately, the opening had attracted the demons, and their shadows could now be seen: talons, claws, jaws, and fangs, ready to rip and tear.

  In despair, Tar
a realized they were losing. But to her surprise, another blue-white ray suddenly flashed. Her mother had just joined forces with her!

  When Selena regained consciousness, she didn’t at first recognize the girl fighting to destroy the Throne of Silur. Then the forgetting spell she had cast on herself snapped, and she joined the fray.

  In his fury, Magister recited a final incantation, and the first two demons, their bodies half dog, half octopus, managed to squeeze through the passage. Refusing to accept defeat, Tara yelled in turn and put all of her despair into the strength of her cry: “Freeze!”

  The cold she was imagining was close to absolute zero. When it enveloped the throne, the black stone gave a final tortured groan and exploded. Chunks of black basalt shot in every direction, destroying the Portal and blasting the two demons. Only Cal and Robin’s shield saved Tara and her mother from certain death. Magister took the full brunt of the explosion and was knocked to the ground.

  The moonbeams started weakening. The light in the statue’s eyes began to go out and the temple roof slowly closed.

  “Nooooooo!” screamed Magister. “This will not be! By the silver moon of Etevelier, I order you to awaken!”

  To their complete astonishment, the roof stopped moving, and the moon once again illuminated the eyes of the forgotten god.

  “Who is it? Who dares awaken me?” rumbled the statue in a terrible voice.

  “She did!” cried Magister, pointing at Tara, forgetting in his demented fury that he needed the girl. “She called on you! She wants to open the rift so the demons can invade the Earth! She must be destroyed!”

  “Hey, that’s not true!” protested Cal furiously. “He’s the one who woke you up! We didn’t do anything!”

  But the forgotten god didn’t listen. With a deafening screech, the statue tore itself from its pedestal and raised its spear to run Tara through.

  Rigid with fear, she could only stare as death flew toward her. Suddenly Cal levitated and, quick as a cat, landed on the statue’s shoulder. He tore off his spellbinder robe and used it to blindfold the god.

  With moonbeams no longer reaching his empty eye sockets, the god stopped moving with his spear mere inches from Tara’s heart. The temple roof began to close again.

  Magister tried to destroy Cal’s robe, but this time Selena was faster.

  “No you don’t!” she growled. “By Rigidus cause this man to perish, and his magic forever extinguish.”

  Selena’s power wasn’t enough to kill Magister, but it paralyzed him for a while. The temple roof closed shut with a loud crash. The throne was destroyed and the rift sealed again.

  When Magister was able to get up, he reached for Tara, but They-Who-Judge intervened. Their immaterial bodies encircled him, claws and teeth glinting in the shadows. When he realized that they would no longer allow him to attack the heir, he howled with disappointment. Seizing a still-smoking piece of basalt, he slashed his arm and yelled:

  “This isn’t over, Tara! There’s more than just the Throne of Silur! Keep looking over your shoulder, because I’ll never be far behind!”

  Then he drew a crimson circle of blood around himself, recited a spell, and vanished.

  At that, the whirlpool magically holding the ocean back started to shrink, and millions of tons of water began gaining ground. Terrified, Tara realized that if they didn’t get out of there very quickly, they would be crushed.

  “What are we going to do?” screamed Cal, as the roaring whirlpool started to close in.

  “Place the heir, place the heir on the altar, place the heir,” chanted Those-Who-Judge.

  They rushed to the altar and jumped onto it. The roar had now become deafening, a sign that the ocean was flooding into the temple. With a wall of water rushing toward them, Cal opened his mouth to cry out as Those-Who-Judge chanted a spell . . . and everything disappeared.

  CHAPTER 20

  ALL'S WELL, THAT ENDS WELL, SORT OF

  A moment later they found themselves in a puddle of sea water in the Initiation Hall, under the astonished eyes of Chem, T’andilus, Sparrow, Fabrice, Manitou, and Fafnir.

  Sparrow ran to hug Tara before realizing that she was soaked.

  “I was so afraid!” she exclaimed, then pulled back. “You’re all wet. And why is Cal in his underwear?”

  A very embarrassed Cal quickly pulled his robe on while glaring at Robin, who was unable to stifle an attack of nervous laughter.

  “Yes,” said Tara with a smile, “I’m wet and I’m exhausted. And I’ll tell you all about Cal’s underwear as soon as Master Chem has released Mom from Magister’s deadly spell.”

  The old wizard, who had opened his mouth to ask for explanations, promptly closed it. Instead he walked around Selena, studying her carefully.

  “Hmph! I see,” he said, looking a little disdainful. “Very evil, and very complicated, but not impossible to counter. The formula involves a very ancient tongue . . . Hmmm . . . ‘Illandus contrariant annihilus mortifera sanglarus poh!’”

  A kind of black mist rose from Selena’s mouth and eyes, and evaporated.

  She screamed with joy.

  “Free! I’m free at last! Free!”

  She hugged everybody in sight. Robin, Fabrice, and Cal blinked in surprise, but Sparrow and Master Chem hugged her warmly. If Fafnir was surprised, she didn’t show it.

  Tara, Robin, and Cal learned that some of the Bloodgraves had vanished the moment Magister escaped. Master Chem had nearly gone crazy when he reached the bridge, saw the arachne’s body at the bottom, and found only Sparrow and Fabrice in the Initiation Hall. Despite all their efforts, they weren’t able to reactivate the passage to Atlantis and had been forced to wait for the group’s return, their alarm growing as time passed.

  Master Chem grimaced when he learned that Tara’s group had destroyed the Throne of Silur. The demonic power objects were as important for the dragons as for the demons, which is why they hadn’t been dismantled.

  When he learned that Tara was the daughter of Danviou, the heir to the Empire of Omois, his eyes widened in surprise. So did Selena’s, who had missed that part of the story. She now understood why Danviou had hidden his identity from her. He wanted to be sure that she loved him for himself and not for his title as heir to the Empire! Then she sighed and bowed her head. Something about that explanation didn’t feel quite right. Her husband must have had some other reason to hide such an important “detail”!

  Finally, Tara announced that Magister had apparently located other demonic objects and clearly planned to use her to access them. At that, she thought the old wizard was going to have a stroke.

  “Certainly not!” he thundered. “Even if I have to stay with you twenty-six hours a day, that dog of a Bloodgrave—sorry, Manitou, I don’t mean you—won’t touch a hair on your head, on my word as a dragon!”

  “Of course not,” said Tara, who was none too keen at having the old wizard on her back all the time. “Now, let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”

  When they reached the Gray Fortress courtyard, they found that the apprentice Bloodgraves—the former apprentice spellbinders—were in the elves’ custody, and were being stripped of their enchantment.

  As the young spellbinders were brought to them, the dragons treated them by driving out the demonic influence. The red circles on their chests disappeared one after another, and with them the demons’ power. Tara couldn’t help but laugh when she saw that some of the dragons unexpectedly found themselves turned into pigs, skunks, camels, or dogs. Clearly, some of the metaphors were still striking!

  The nonspells were freed and sent home, overjoyed at finally escaping their enslavement to the sinister Bloodgrave master.

  Having heard the high wizard’s story, Master T’andilus decided to have the Gray Fortress searched from top to bottom. Master Dragosh joined him. What they found wasn’t reassuring. In Magister’s office they found plans. Plans for conquest and especially a list that the old wizard ripped from the elf ’s hands
when he brought it to him.

  “By my ancestors!” murmured Chem, deeply troubled, “He’s found more of them.”

  “More of what?” asked Dragosh.

  “Tara was right,” he said. “This lunatic has managed to locate several of the demonic objects that we took from the demons. But the protections will only allow the heirs of the five high wizards to pass, which means that he will probably try to use Tara again. That’s terrible!”

  “You must neutralize Magister,” murmured Dragosh. “You know what they did to my family. He must never be able to approach Tara again.”

  “I will protect her as best I can,” Chem answered.

  “Wouldn’t it be best to . . . eliminate the problem?”

  The old wizard looked up sharply from the list he was studying.

  “Safir, I hope I didn’t understand correctly what you just said!”

  The vampyr refused to back off.

  “If this girl’s life is the only thing that stood between us and Limbo, I wouldn’t hesitate,” he hissed.

  The old wizard stepped close to Dragosh, his eyes narrowed.

  “This girl is the heir to an immense empire, my friend. She’s not just a key giving access to the demonic universe. Remember that before you declare war on her.”

  Defeated, the vampyr bowed. But a glint remained in his eyes that didn’t fool Master Chem. If Dragosh had to choose, he would do so without hesitation!

  Tara, her mother, and her friends were still in the courtyard when the old dragon joined them, after carefully pocketing the list.

  “We can return to the Royal Castle of Travia,” he exclaimed joyously, “to celebrate both our victory and Tara’s mother’s return to the land of the living!”

  “We’ve put the unicorn tapestry back in place, High Wizard,” said T’andilus, who was in charge of operations. “The Portal is working again. You can return to the Castle whenever you like.”

  “Perfect! Good work,” said Chem. “Keep an eye out for anything that looks suspicious, and send me your report. I don’t care to hang around here any longer. Let’s go!”