Tara Duncan and the Forbidden Book

by HRH Princess Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian

  “Very well, Your Imperial Majesty.”

  With martial stride, the captain went to stand among the Truth Tellers and rested his hands on the pommels of his four scimitars. Everything about his attitude warned the Tellers to be very careful with what they were going to say.

  Glul Buglul gulped, the Tellers’ eyes widened, and almost immediately, the gnome began to speak.

  “Attention, everyone! The Tellers declare that the captain of the guards’ first thought is a constant concern for Their Majesties’ safety. His second thought is a yen for a cold pitcher of beer from Mount Tador. His third thought focuses on the attractive Lady Bom—”

  “Stop!” shouted the guard captain, who had turned beet red. “That’s a pretty conclusive test. The Tellers haven’t lost any of their powers.”

  The entire hall sighed with relief. The reason there are so few crimes on OtherWorld is largely due to the telepaths’ invaluable work. If they had lost their priceless faculties, it would open the way to chaos.

  “That’s perfect,” said the empress. “Now, let’s try with the girl. Tellers!”

  Angelica obediently took her place in the circle, but the result was the same as with Cal. Her mind was impenetrable, and the telepaths had to admit they were powerless.

  “I don’t understand why the Truth Tellers can’t access these children’s thoughts,” said the emperor. “Unless someone has managed to create a protective spell to mask their guilt. Which would call for enormous power. And only the dragons—”

  “As I said before—hic,” interrupted Master Chem, who wasn’t about to let himself be accused, “we accepted your summons because Caliban and Angelica are innocent—hic. We assumed the Tellers would confirm this for us hic. Now that this seems to be impossible, there seems to be only one thing left to do.”

  “I agree,” said the empress soberly. “We will have to summon the manes of Brandis T’al Miga Ab Chantu. That will require a great deal of preparation, and I suggest we get some rest beforehand. The hearing will resume tomorrow.”

  “What are ‘manes’?” whispered Tara to her friends.

  “They’re the boy’s psychic remains,” said Sparrow. “His spirit, if you like. They can be summoned just once and only asked a single question.”

  “A ghost!” sighed Fabrice. “Here I think I know everything about this world and bam!, something like this hits me. So, Cal and Angelica are going to be judged by a ghost? What if he says they’re guilty?”

  “They’ll be condemned to death,” said Sparrow gravely.

  “To death?” asked Tara, appalled. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Afraid not. Whether children or adults, spellbinders on OtherWorld are responsible for their actions as soon as they come into their powers. The death penalty may have been abolished in Lancovit, but it’s still in force here in Omois.”

  “Stay calm, Tara,” said Robin. “Getting worried won’t do you any good. It clouds your mind, and it’s very bad before a fight. Odds are, everything will go well and Cal will be acquitted.”

  Tara smiled feebly. The half-elf was thinking like a warrior. She straightened and took a deep breath. He’s right, she thought. We may as well wait and see what happens. If things turned out badly, then she would have a perfect right to panic.

  The little crowd streamed out of the Throne Room buzzing with questions and conjectures, with feet, tentacles, pseudopods, and hooves sliding and clicking on the purple marble floor. The crystalists whispered furiously into their crystal balls and cubes, spreading the news. All in all, the session had been fascinating.

  To Tara’s great surprise, Cal strolled over and joined them, while Blondin skipped merrily around. The imperial guards seemed completely unconcerned about what the two were doing.

  “I’ll be darned!” exclaimed Sparrow, who was equally surprised. “Aren’t you in prison?”

  “In prison? Why? I haven’t done anything,” said Cal with a smile.

  “But they arrested you!”

  “No, they ‘kindly invited’ me to the palace to ‘help clear up a few points.’ Unless or until I’m convicted, I’m considered to be innocent.” Then he added, sounding oppressed, “But I swear, I’d rather be in jail. Because Angelica is also charged, they stuck us in the same room together, believe it or not.”

  “No!” exclaimed Sparrow. “That’s not so great.”

  “It’s a total drag, you mean. I spend as much time as I can wandering around this blasted palace and only go back there to sleep. And you know what the worst is?”

  “What?”

  “She snores!”

  Their burst of laughter attracted the attention of Master Chem, who was talking with Fabrice and Manitou. He turned to them and said, “Come over here. I’m just about—hic!—to hear something that Manitou and Fabrice found out.”

  When the dog related the conversation between the two Bloodgraves, Chem lost his hiccups completely.

  “By my pile of gold!” he roared. “Not again!”

  The group cautiously backed away, but this time the dragon wizard controlled himself. Not a single fang or scale appeared.

  “You didn’t really expect Magister to give up, did you?” said Tara calmly. “We know he’s crazy about getting power. And as long as he hasn’t found a way to defeat and replace you, he’ll continue searching for the demonic objects. Using The Forbidden Book is a good way to get to Limbo, isn’t it?”

  “He doesn’t need the book to travel to the demon kingdom,” answered Chem soberly. “He can go there whenever he likes. But he needs certain spells that are forbidden even to demons to increase his power, and he can’t be allowed to acquire them!”

  “He must have cast a spell or something on the boy’s parents to make them accuse Cal and to get you to come here,” observed Manitou. “To stop him, the simplest thing would be to go get the book and keep it with you.”

  “I can’t,” said Chem.

  “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “You have no idea how much power that book has. It’s not just an object, it’s a creation of the demons of Limbo, and it has a life of its own. When I study it, I touch it as little as possible. If I carried it around, it could overcome and corrupt me within a few hours. I have too much power to risk that!”

  “But you’re not in Lancovit now to keep anyone from stealing it!” said Manitou, sounding very concerned. “What are we going to do?”

  “I’ll ask Safir Dragosh to go back immediately and watch over the book. Our vampyr friend is a powerful wizard. He’ll know how to protect it.”

  “Is that all?”

  Master Chem shrugged. “The hunter-elves have long known that I have valuable and dangerous objects in my keeping that must not be stolen. They watch the whole castle very carefully. Besides, nobody knows where the book is hidden or how to get to it. So I’m not really worried.”

  “Oh, really?” asked the surprised dog. “Well, if you don’t mind I’m going to worry a little. Just in case.”

  Sparrow took a deep breath. The old dragon had forgotten one small detail. Because of the group’s earlier trip to Limbo, the secret hiding place wasn’t so secret anymore. She was about to speak up, but hesitated, deciding to say nothing.

  “Well, I think it’s totally cool!” said Cal with a grin.

  “What? You think it’s cool?” asked Fabrice.

  “Well, yeah. For once, Magister doesn’t need Tara to get hold of the book. So no one’s going to try to enchant me, petrify me, cook me, or drown me to get it. Life could actually get kind of boring!”

  There was only one proper response to Cal’s statement. Tara stuck her tongue out at him.

  After dinner, the friends gathered in their suite. Soothsuckers had been served with dessert, and after savoring an amazing cherry/ apricot/cinnamon/pepper one, Tara reached the message at the heart of the lollipop: “You can see the trap, but it’s not where you think”—which didn’t tell her anything all that helpful.

  Cal’s room was n
ear the suite, but since he had to share it with Angelica, he was trying to stay away. The friends were deep in conversation when the mouth on the door opened and spoke: “An ifrit wishes to speak with Miss Tara’tylanhnem Duncan. Should I let it in?”

  “Sure,” said Tara, a little surprised.

  A red djinn floated into the living room. Ifrits don’t have legs, and the lower part of their body ends in a kind of whirlwind. This one bowed politely and in a strident voice said, “My imperial mistress requests your presence in her gold boudoir. I have been sent to take you there.”

  When Tara’s friends got to their feet, it added, “Alone.”

  “Don’t you want us to go with you?” asked Robin, ignoring the ifrit’s remark. “After all, there are Bloodgraves in the palace.”

  “Thanks, but you don’t have to worry about me,” said a smiling Tara, who appreciated the half-elf’s courtesy but wanted to speak to the empress in private to plead Cal’s case. “I’m not going far. See you soon!”

  As she followed the ifrit down the palace hallways, Tara noticed that the light grew noticeably dimmer. The farther they went, the less busy the halls were, until they reached a dusty and vaguely gilded room that didn’t correspond at all to her notion of an imperial boudoir.

  The ifrit bowed again, said that someone would come for her soon, and left. Tara walked around the room. It was furnished with several large tapestries showing the exploits of Omoisian hunters, three chairs so delicate you’d be afraid they would collapse under you, a pair of purple velvet sofas, and a pretty table with an inlaid top and curved legs.

  The three chairs practically fought each other for the privilege when Tara decided to sit down. As she looked at them with mistrust, she suddenly caught her breath. She could feel the weight of an icy gaze on her, a feeling she knew well. A Bloodgrave was watching her! She spun around just in time to see a burning ray shooting toward her, and she dove to the floor, barely avoiding being hit.

  The table exploded and one of the tapestries caught fire. Tara stood and ran to hide behind a sofa. Her attacker was behind the door, and she could see two hands brandishing a ball of fire. Tara wished for a shield with all her might, and the living stone intervened without being asked. Their combined magic conjured a wall eight inches thick that abruptly hid her from view.

  Not exactly what I asked for, but it’ll do for now! Tara thought.

  Once over the initial surprise, Tara’s enemy gathered its power, which was unfortunately considerable.

  A fireball shattered part of the wall. Tara huddled to avoid flying debris and conjured enough water to put out the resulting blaze. But a second fireball was already shooting toward her, and she again had to dive to the floor. She absolutely had to come up with something stronger before the whole wall was demolished! She was thinking fast.

  Tara couldn’t see the Bloodgrave, but she could see a pair of hands when it launched its magic. During a lull she peeked cautiously through a crack in the wall. The hands were busy with another fireball, making it bigger. Perfect!

  Summoning her power, she fired an ice beam like the one she had used against the Throne of Silur.

  Maybe Tara had seen too many cartoons, because she imagined that when she fired her ray, the hands and the fireball would freeze, trapped in a sheath of ice.

  It didn’t work that way at all.

  When the ray hit the fireball, it merely fizzled out. The Bloodgrave cursed, but its hands were still free. Now furious, it cast a new spell, preparing to blast her. Tara trembled, aware that she couldn’t resist another attack.

  Suddenly she heard the sound of running feet, and the hands disappeared. Moments later, Lady Boudiou and Xandiar burst into the room, closely followed by a group of soldiers. When he saw the damage, the guard captain whipped out his four swords and posted men all around the room. Lady Boudiou rushed over to Tara, who could hardly believe she was still alive.

  “My heavens!” cried the old lady wizard, astonished by the destruction in the room. “What happened here?”

  “Someone tried to kill me,” Tara answered, still shaking with fear. “You just saved my life. A few seconds more and pfft!, no more Tara!”

  “By Demiderus! Come here, darling!” The good woman wrapped Tara in a motherly embrace, and the girl burst into racking sobs.

  When Xandiar interrogated her, however, he looked frankly suspicious. Ever since their first encounter, the guard captain seemed to take everything Tara did as a personal affront. And she had the painful feeling that he didn’t believe her at all. Especially when the investigation revealed that the empress had never actually summoned her.

  Naturally, it was impossible to find the ifrit that had delivered the message—or even find one who would confess to having done so, since they all looked exactly alike.

  Robin and Fabrice were furious when they heard the news and decided that they would stick to Tara like her shadow from now on. Cal, who was just as shaken, requested and got permission to spend the night with his friends. Lady Auxia, the palace administrator, had guards posted at the door. To settle Tara’s nerves, Auxia’s shaman Master Bison Lightfoot made her drink a series of brews, each more revolting than the last.

  Despite the soothing potions, Tara didn’t have a very good night. Robin had seen too many OtherWorld movies about valiant knights, and wanted to sleep on the floor in front of Tara’s bed, but she refused. For Tara’s part, terrible nightmares left her feeling exhausted and shaky the next day. She couldn’t understand what was happening. Magister would never try to kill her; he needed her too much. So, who wanted to get rid of her? And why? Like most people, Tara had dreamed of a life of high adventure. Now, she would pay good money for the most dull, stale, and insipid existence possible.

  Soon after breakfast, Damien came to escort them to the hearing. Crossing back through the jungle on the way to the Throne Room, Fabrice was relieved to see that the pterodactyls soaring in the distance didn’t see him as a mid-morning snack. A pair of soldiers escorted Cal into the huge purple-and-gold hall and the trial resumed.

  The events of the previous day had clearly made the rounds of the palace, because the hearing was jammed. Crowded around the twin thrones were silver unicorns, gold chimeras, lemon-yellow imps, two-headed tatris, some twenty suspicious centaurs with war paint on their flanks, blue gnomes—in short, representatives of many of the planet’s races. Human courtiers in unusual, colorful costumes wandered here and there or sat on benches and chairs.

  Suddenly, Tara got a shock. A gorgeous blonde next to her had unexpectedly turned into a balding, skinny old woman, causing her companion to pull back in surprise. The old woman stamped her foot angrily on the floor, fiddled with something in her hair, and turned back into the gorgeous blonde. Her dismayed companion was about to upbraid her when his own magic spell failed. Instead of a handsome courtier, a reedy teenager appeared, looking with horror at his nonexistent biceps. The blonde gave a sarcastic cackle. The boy glared at her and stormed out of the hall.

  Tara gathered that Omoisian spellbinder courtiers seldom showed themselves in their true form. The only glitch in the system was that maintaining a fictional appearance was too tiring to do for long. Well, the day I want to stand 5 foot 10 with a 36-inch bust, thought Tara, I’ll know how to make it happen!

  Just then, the majordomo gestured to the crowd and the assembly quieted. The empress and emperor took their seats on the thrones, surrounded by high wizards.

  Empress Lisbeth had chosen silver to accentuate her beauty this time. Her hair, caught in a stunning chignon, framed her head like a metal helmet. Her silver robe was covered with luminous birds fluttering from branch to branch. A platinum and diamond crown circled her brow and temples, making her look even taller.

  In keeping with the silver theme, Emperor Sandor was wearing light-steel armor decorated with silver runes. A slim metal band rested on his hair, which he wore hanging down his back. Made cautious by his previous experience, he had traded his short saber for a long sw
ord and was scowling at Master Chem as if to dare him to shape-shift again. His entire attitude screamed, “If you so much as twitch an ear, dragon, I’ll cut you to ribbons.”

  The fact that the dragon wasn’t paying him the slightest attention seemed to annoy him even more.

  The scoops hovered around the imperial couple, recording every detail.

  When Tara was able to tear her attention away from the fascinating empress, she noticed that Master Dragosh was missing. The vampyr had probably returned to Lancovit to protect the famous Forbidden Book. So much the better.

  Cal and Angelica went to sit in a large golden circle painted on the floor in front of the sovereigns. The dead boy’s parents stood outside it. A heavy silence fell on the assembly.

  The high wizards began their incantations. These clearly required considerable effort, because sweat began to run down their faces.

  “By Convocatus, we summon you, Brandis T’al Miga Ab Chantu,” they chanted. “By Convocatus, we bind you, and through that binding, you will answer us! By Convocatus, spirit, appear and materialize before us!”

  A flickering glow started to dance in front of the wizards, then grew brighter and taller, taking the shape of a boy. His body was somewhat transparent, but perfectly visible. Tara was surprised to realize that she could see its colors. She’d thought that it would be white or colorless, like ghosts in the movies. In fact, aside from the fact that you could kind of see through him, you would’ve thought the boy was completely normal.

  And he was completely naked.

  Well, not quite. The middle of his body was sort of blurry. Clothes obviously didn’t accompany the dead to the hereafter.

  “Something . . . something called me,” murmured the ghost.

  “We did, darling boy,” said his mother, her cheeks streaming with tears.

  “Where . . . where am I? I can’t remember. Why are you crying, Mom?”

  For a moment the crowd thought the woman was going to collapse, but her husband squeezed her hand and she held on.

  “You’re dead, my love. You were killed by the uncontrolled vortex of a Transfer Portal. We’ve called you back so you can judge those who caused your death.” She pointed at Cal and Angelica.