Tara Duncan and the Forbidden Book (22 page)

“All right!” huffed Fafnir. “None of that blasted magic, eh? In that case, make way for a pro!”

Ignoring the walls, she lay down on the ground and promptly melted into the soil without tripping the protection spell. In a few seconds she had vanished.

Fafnir reappeared inside the cell, popping up among the astonished gnomes. Cal stared at her, angry at himself not to have thought of that. Obviously, the spell protecting the ground had to be different. Otherwise the gnomes wouldn't be able to stand on it. The wizard was so confident of his defenses that he'd simply cast a spell to make the stones too hard for the gnomes to eat—but nothing that would stop a dwarf!

“All right, gnomes, let's go!” ordered Fafnir. “Grab hold of me. Whatever you do, don't let go! By touching me, we'll be able to melt into ground together. But if you let go you'll die instantly and your body will be stuck forever. Got that?”

The gnomes understood perfectly. Fearfully clinging to her, they heaved a sigh of relief when they emerged on the other side of the bars.

It took Fafnir only a few minutes to empty the first cell. In half an hour they freed 233 imprisoned gnomes and their children. They crowded around their king, who was still a bit groggy, but thrilled to have found his people. The pretty blue gnome hugged him lovingly, and they figured she must be Mul, his fiancée.

“Let's get out of here!” ordered Manitou. “We'll celebrate when we're beyond that sinister individual's reach.”

In single file, they all followed the dog to the open air. The elemental was astonished when it saw them emerging onto the river bottom.

“By my birth waters, where did all these people come from?” it breathed.

“I told you,” Buglul explained proudly, “that monstrous wizard imprisoned my people. And he made you their jailer!”

The elemental's foam eyebrows came together fiercely.

“Hey, that's not right at all! And I won't stand for it! Spellbinders aren't supposed to use us to do their dirty work.”

The elemental seemed honestly outraged. Buglul asked if it would be willing to bear witness before the empress, and it said it would. An elemental can't be “read” by the Truth Tellers, but it could testify against Prince Bandiou.

After promising to meet them on OtherWorld whenever they called, the elemental returned to the river, which resumed its peaceful flow. Very quickly, the group headed for the Transfer Portal. Not Bandiou's secret portal, but the official one in the castle tower. As they were passing by the rose garden, they heard a sudden howl of fury.

Standing in front of them was Count Besois-Giron and a small, skinny man, stooped with years. A gold band held his long gray hair, which was carefully gathered in a complicated braid that lay across his right shoulder. He was dressed in an elegant white robe with a repeating pattern of the purple hundred-eyed peacock. It perfectly matched his white and purple sandals.

“By all the demons of Limbo!” the man roared, as his hands lit up with a dangerous purple glow. “How did you scum manage to get free?”

As the astonished count looked on, Glul Buglul proudly stepped forward, heedless of the danger.

“We do not fear you, Prince Bandiou, and will never obey you again! Our friends have enough power to protect us. Face the fury of the powerful Tara'tylanhnem Duncan!”

“The powerful who?” murmured Tara.
What is he saying? He's crazy!

Fabrice shot a dark look at the gnome, signaling to Tara that he agreed with her.

“You aren't Magister!” she said to the wizard, putting her finger on what had been bothering her since the beginning. “You don't have his stature, or his style.”

“And you're the little girl spellbinder who managed to stand up to him,” cackled the prince. “You should have seen him! I thought he was going to blow a gasket. I practically died laughing.” Bandiou paused. “And speaking of dying, I'm sorry to be doing him this favor, but your time has come.” With a lightning-quick gesture he fired a Destructus at them.

Tara and the living stone were ready, raising a shield that brutally deflected the spell, sending it to shatter the rose garden greenhouse.

The count started to complain, but suddenly realized he was in the middle of a spellbinder duel and dove behind the edge of the well.

The prince screamed with fury. While keeping pressure on Tara's shield, he raised one of his hands above his head.

Down in the well a powerful glow began to pulsate. Suddenly something burst out of it, in a kind of black halo: a hideous statue representing a demon that had seen too many science-fiction movies about unnatural mutations. It was a monstrous mix of hyena, octopus, and moray eel. The friends shuddered just to look at it.

“The artifactum!” murmured Buglul. “The repository of his power. We must destroy it!”

“Leave that to me,” whispered Fafnir, hefting her axe. “Try to distract him, Tara.”

Tara was finding it hard to maintain the shield protecting everyone. She merely nodded, as she drew power from the depths of her being.

Seeing that the girl was struggling, Buglul yelled to his people: “Gnomes, into the earth! Dig your way clear!”

Within seconds, the gnomes had dug themselves out of sight. This relieved Tara of some of the effort she was expending. It greatly displeased Bandiou, who saw his prey escaping.

Suddenly, he tottered. A huge hole had just opened beneath his feet, pulling him off balance. Dozens of gnomes emerged from it and grabbed at his clothes.

Grimacing at the contact with the little creatures, he tried to brush them off, but without stopping his assault on Tara.

Suddenly, she had a brilliant idea of how to unnerve him.

“Vomit!” she yelled to the gnomes. “Vomit dirt onto him, quick!”

The gnomes obeyed. All together, they spat up what they had swallowed in digging. Howling with indignation, the wizard was submerged by a flood of sticky mud and rocks. His attack faltered. Quick as lightning, Tara dissipated her protective shield, and Fafnir rushed forward. She reached the artifactum in a few steps and raised her axe. Bandiou looked over just as Fafnir was bringing her axe down, and his scream mixed with the
thonk!
of the blade hitting the statue.

To the dwarf's great surprise, the artifactum didn't shatter. Instead, Fafnir felt as if she had struck a steel anvil, as the vibrations shook her from head to foot. Then the black light climbed up along her axe and enveloped her hand. In a few moments it covered her completely, and Fafnir disappeared from her anguished friends' sight. Meanwhile, the gnomes were facing bolts flashing from the wizard's fingers and had to let go and seek refuge underground.

Tara seized the opportunity to attack savagely, casting a paralyzing Pocus at Bandiou. But the black light surged forward, and her sparkling spell was stopped and dissipated.

The wizard's mud-spattered face then emerged from the black cloud, looking jubilant. “You and your friends don't measure up against my power. Yield or die!”

Cal answered him with a gesture. It wasn't an especially elegant one, but it meant the same thing on all worlds. The wizard cursed and his black light rolled over the little group like a monstrous cloud.

Tara and her friends battled with all their might. They created a terrible thunderstorm that lashed the cloud, but couldn't dissipate it. They conjured rain and hail that pounded the ground, but the wizard was able to protect himself. Neither fire nor lightning seemed to affect him.

The evil cloud approached and touched them, ripping through their shield with a sharp screech. In spite of her beast strength, Sparrow was the first to succumb, smothered as she tried to protect Sheeba. Cal collapsed in turn, followed by Manitou and Blondin. Fabrice clung to Barune, who was unable to fight. The cloud slammed into Gallant, who crashed in a cloud of feathers. Robin was the last to yield.

Seeing her friends fall one after the other, Tara unleashed all her power. Her eyes turned completely blue and she rose majestically into the air, calling on the living stone to help her. Speechless, Prince Bandiou felt a spasm of fear. This wasn't some girl spellbinder facing him, but power, raw power. And when she spoke, her voice hummed with magic: “Stop this instant, wizard! Our patience is at an end. We won't allow you to hurt our friends.”

“Give up! Give up, or I'll kill your allies right now!” he screamed. “I have their hearts in the palm of my hand. Look!”

Like unconscious puppets, Manitou, Robin, Sparrow, Sheeba, Cal, Blondin, Fabrice, and Barune emerged from the cloud, carried by its black tendrils. A black filament was stuck in each of their chests, right over their hearts. The wizard wasn't lying. He literally held the life of Tara's friends in his immaterial hands.

Tara hesitated, and Bandiou used the chance. His cloud struck like a snake, swallowing her. When it retreated, seemingly with regret, Tara lay on the ground, defeated.

A deathly silence permeated the battlefield. It was over.

I
n the shadowy depths of the black cloud, Fafnir was struggling, desperately trying to hit the artifactum with her axe. The cloud was seeping into her skin, gradually suffocating her. But then something in her body suddenly changed. The Ravager of Souls sensed that another power was trying to invade his host—and wasn't going to stand for it. 
I can't let the Ravager possess my body,
she thought at first.
I've got to resist.
But that wasn't right . . . No, she actually was going to help her ravaging enemy . . . So she surrendered to the Ravager. When she did, her skin turned purple and her green eyes black, and she erupted from the black cloud like a missile.

“Bow before my power!” she screamed. “I am the Ravager of Souls! Kneel and worship your god!”

For a moment, Prince Bandiou was speechless. Having just overcome the young spellbinders, he was about to take their lives when the curiously transformed dwarf burst in front of him. Then he recovered.

“What god?” he sneered. “All I see is a dwarf, in an interesting shade of purple!”

“I am the Ravager, the master of the cursed island!” roared Fafnir. “I am the god of destruction, rapine, and death!”

“I beg your pardon, but that is a role I reserve for myself,” said the wizard very politely.

“I am alpha and omega, the beginning and the end,” thundered Fafnir, ignoring him. “I am terror, I am horror. Only those who worship me will be spared. Kneel, you wretch! Kneel before your god!”

“You're really hung up on that, aren't you?” said the prince, who found all this quite amusing. “I'm sorry, but my knees are a little stiff. I've forgotten how to kneel. Maybe you could show me how.”

He pointed at the dwarf and the black cloud obediently settled on Fafnir's broad shoulders. She suddenly felt as if hundreds of pounds had been loaded on her back, forcing her down. Enraged, she resisted. The prince frowned and doubled the weight. Drops of sweat were now coursing down her face, but she continued to struggle. Suddenly the Ravager burst out of her body in a red mist. It confronted the black cloud, and the two powers clashed in an apocalyptic collision.

Now free, Fafnir immediately rushed at the prince and punched him in the face. Unprepared for a physical attack, Bandiou was caught completely by surprise. The punch snapped his head back. He slammed against the edge of the well and toppled in, screaming with rage. The well wasn't very deep, and Bandiou had no time to cast a spell to break his fall.

Also, he had dried the well, the better to store his artifactum—a mistake that would cost him dearly.

No splash was heard, just an awful
crack!

The black cloud dissipated instantly, sweeping back into the artifactum, which also fell into the well.

Now greatly weakened, the red mist flowed back toward Fafnir. Despite her efforts to keep clear, it managed to touch her again. But the mist had lost its power. Struggling mightily, Fafnir was able to reject the attempt at possession. Gradually her skin regained its deep tan, and her eyes once again shone emerald green. She grunted with satisfaction.

Then, without a glance at her friends, she drew a rope from her jerkin and lowered herself down the well.

As Tara was coming to, she first heard a terrible crack, followed by a scream of rage. She felt bone-weary and didn't quite know where she was. Then it all came back to her: the prince, the cloud, the attack. Around her, Manitou, Gallant, Sparrow, Sheeba, Cal, Blondin, Fabrice, Barune, and Robin were all regaining consciousness too.

Fafnir climbed out of the well holding two things: the artifactum, now broken and powerless, and the equally broken body of the empress's uncle.

“Is . . . is he dead?” asked Sparrow.

“Dead as a doornail,” answered the dwarf with satisfaction.

“And were you the one who—?” Cal made the gesture of drawing his hand across his throat.

“Nope, it wasn't me. He fell into the well and broke his neck. No more wicked wizard. Just good for the scrap heap!”

“Would someone kindly tell me what happened?” asked Manitou, who was having trouble gathering his wits.

“The Ravager picked a great time to manifest himself,” Fafnir explained succinctly. “He and the prince fought over who would conquer the universe, they had a little spat, I took advantage of it, and that's all she wrote.”

“You mean the Ravager
possessed
you?” exclaimed Tara. “And you're all right?”

“I managed to control him,” answered the dwarf with a bright smile. “He was weakened from fighting the artifactum. So he's lying low for now. But that's enough talk. What we do now?”

“There's been an accident,” said Count Besois-Giron, stepping from behind the well and dusting off his pants. “An accident that resulted in an unfortunate death. It also wrecked my greenhouse and my roses.”