Tara Duncan and the Forbidden Book (32 page)

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his time, Fabrice groaned so audibly that everyone could hear him. Loud trumpeting from Barune showed that the little mammoth shared his dismay.

Other spellbinders turned to look at them, shocked.

“Shhh!” hissed Manitou. “Relax, Fabrice. You know how much Tara likes to joke.”

“Trouble is, I have an awful feeling she's not joking at all,” said Cal. “Come on, Tara. Are you serious?”

“You're right, I wasn't joking,” snapped Tara. “I have to speak to the empress—right away. Anyone have an idea how to do that?”

“Easy. You request a private audience,” said Robin. “Since there are maybe a million people who want the same thing, and they're adult citizens of Omois, I'm sure your request will be granted in a couple of centuries.”

“I don't think we'll have to wait that long,” said Tara thoughtfully. “The empress knew we were coming. She even saved us a space for the Dilution tomorrow, whatever the heck that is.”

“A Dilution,” Robin said, “is the ceremony by which the body is diluted and flows into the soil of the park, returning to the wellsprings of OtherWorld.”

“Yuck!” said Fabrice. “You mean that when I walk in the park I'm walking on dead people from Tingapore?”

“No, of course not!” answered Robin, sounding offended.

“Well, that's reassuring.”

“Just on the members of the imperial family,” he said with a sly grin.

“Double yuck! That's really disgusting.”

Tara brought them back to the topic at hand. “So, as I was saying, we have to see the empress fast, not only to get the information we need for Fafnir, but also to give her the taludi to prove Cal's innocence. In spite of his magnificent disguise, ‘Mr. Bond' here risks being arrested again.”

“Yeah,” said Cal. “I'd kind of like to skip the time in jail this time.”

Sparrow laughed.

“If you keep looking the way you do,” she said, “the empress won't ever lock you up, at least not in a prison.”

“Har-dee-har-har—very funny. I'm going to submit a request to prove my innocence and ask an ifrit to bring it to the empress. After that, we'll see what happens.”

“Hey, time's a-wasting!” announced Manitou.

“Really? Aside from the risk of my being arrested, we don't have any other irons in the fire, do we? Fafnir doesn't need the information about the Ravager until she comes back from the Swamps of Desolation.”

“I wasn't thinking about Fafnir,” the Labrador said quietly. “I had some other folks in mind. Chem will be attending the funeral, probably accompanied by Isabella. I wouldn't be surprised if Sparrow's parents came to represent the Lancovit government as well. Not to mention Fabrice's father, who is sure to be invited as a friend of the late prince.”

Fabrice turned an intense shade of green.

“You've got to be kidding!” he stammered. “My father and Isabella—at the same time? After the Bandiou episode, the smashing of Dad's greenhouse, and the trips to OtherWorld without Isabella's permission, I can't even imagine what punishment they'll slap on me. In fact, I was seriously thinking of going into exile on some other planet!”

“Oh, stop talking nonsense!” said Robin, giving him a friendly pat on the back. “Your father saw that we saved the Earth and OtherWorld from a brutal tyrant. He'll probably complain a bit, but that's all.”

“Robin, my father will skin me alive and nail my hide to the living room wall. And Isabella will take what's left and make a doormat for the manor house. At least that way, I'll be useful.”

Cal tried to cheer up Fabrice, but without success, and they walked on toward Tara's suite in silence. The palace was huge, and they had to ask an ifrit for directions. Noticing that courtiers were frowning at them along the way, Tara remembered that she wanted to change their familiars' colors.

Suddenly, shrieks of consternation rang out throughout the palace.

Drat! My blasted magic must have gotten away from me again! Tara realized. She had been looking at Cal and idly thought he would look even more handsome dressed in red.

Her magic struck instantly, and the entire palace turned red. Spellbinder robes, statues, walls, curtains, animals—all red. The effect was pretty spectacular.

Horrified, Tara watched as frantic courtiers stared at their clothes in amazement.

Sparrow chuckled. “Just exactly what were you thinking, anyway?”

Tara blushed, a color that went nicely with her crimson robe, then canceled the spell. Robin took over and cautiously turned their robes a blue so dark they it looked black, then darkened the animals' coats.

Fabrice sighed again. Tara had so much power. And she manipulated it so easily. He wasn't jealous but . . . Well, actually he was jealous. Why didn't he have that kind of power? But then he remembered about the Bloodgrave who was trying to kill her for some mysterious reason. And Magister, who considered her the key to demonic power. All in all, maybe having less power was just fine. Besides, he thought, I have Barune! He looked down at the mammoth affectionately and stroked his head, while keeping his toes safely out of range. Barune was much smaller now, but he was still awfully heavy.

Robin was wondering what would happen when all this was finished. He knew that Tara would have to go back to Earth. He also knew that he couldn't accompany her. A half-elf on Earth—how ridiculous! His magic wasn't powerful enough to disguise his strange crystalline eyes, with their cat-like vertical pupils, and his odd, black-streaked white hair.

Besides, elves were hunters and warriors. Joining Tara on Earth would mean giving up that heritage. That was something he couldn't do, and the idea caused him almost physical pain. So for the moment, he was grateful for the problems they kept running into, which forced Tara to stay on OtherWorld.

As for Cal, he was thinking that he would soon have the murder charge dismissed. Then he had a few things to tell his professors at the University of Licensed Thievery about their grading. With a touch of sadness, he remembered that he would have to visit Brandis's parents and tell them their son's last wishes. More than anything, he wanted to be back in his own, real body. This one was just too much!

Sparrow was worried, but not for herself—for Tara. Sparrow had always been a solitary child because her parents traveled so much. Then Tara showed up and in a few weeks they had become like twins—better yet, they were confidantes. But Tara kept a lot secret, as if she had trouble expressing herself or didn't know how her displays of friendship would be received. And Sparrow knew how heavily the future weighed on her friend's shoulders.

In fact, they all had some idea of what they would do later on. Robin wanted to enter the royal Lancovit elf services, like his father. Cal was already a licensed thief, even though he didn't have the official title yet. Fabrice was in the apprentice training program and would become a high wizard. Sparrow was considering going into her mother's field—working with the dwarf tribes on OtherWorld's sources of magic. And if she didn't like that, she could study in Lancovit and also become a high wizard.

But Tara had no choice. She was the heir to an empire, the hope of an entire nation. Plus, she was also a key to demonic power, the target of a killer, and the center of a tangle of plots and dangers. She would never be a normal girl living a normal childhood.

Unaware of all this, Tara was lost in thoughts of her parents. She would have to tell her mother that she had seen her father again without her. Tara knew Selena wouldn't be angry. They'd had to act fast. But she regretted with all her heart that she hadn't been able to bring her father's back to her mother. Oddly enough, though she'd only known Selena for a few days, she missed her terribly. Isabella, too, even though she absolutely had to avoid her grandmother for the time being, so as not to find herself stuck on Earth forever.

In a remote corner of her consciousness, Tara worried about what Magister might be up to. Gallant mentally protested, telling her in his own way not to worry. If Magister bothered them, they would just ship him off to Demonic Limbo. The pegasus sent her an image of a frantic Magister dangling from his claws, surrounded by a horde of cackling demons. Tara couldn't help but chuckle. Pleased that he'd made her laugh, Gallant landed next to her and gave her an affectionate shove with his head. Sparrow shot Tara a questioning look and was reassured when her friend responded with a bright smile.

Once back in their suite, Manitou moaned that he was dying of hunger and begged them to order something to eat. An ifrit brought food, and they savored such bizarre dishes as brrraaa ribs in slurp sauce, kalorna purée, and brill shoots, accompanied by Tzinpaf, chocolate cake with bizzz honey, and Soothsuckers.

Tara looked suspiciously at the heart of her caramel/banana/ pimento prophesicle. Its message was: “She will be here soon. There is no danger in her words, but the truth must be deserved.” As usual, not much to go on, she thought.

Sparrow gave the ifrit their message for the empress, stressing that it involved new information proving Caliban Dal Salan's innocence. Then they waited.

By one o'clock in the morning, it was obvious that the empress wouldn't be summoning them, and they went to bed.

But a very sleepy Cal practically had a heart attack when an ifrit appeared at the foot of his bed and yelped: “Wake up! A visitor is coming! Get up!”

He found himself in the living room in his pajamas before he quite understood what was happening. Roused by the messenger, the others came in as well, rubbing their eyes and feeling equally baffled.

Suddenly the door swung open without their authorization and in walked Xandiar, the captain of the guards.

“Oh no,” groaned Cal. “Not him!”

But Xandiar didn't pay the little thief any attention—most likely since Tara's magic was still working and Cal was as gorgeous as ever.

The guard captain first scrutinized the room, then waved in the slim, hooded figure behind him, and nervously slammed the door. He was red in the face and sweating heavily.

Seeing Xandiar so panicked, Tara immediately guessed who was under the hood. Her hunch was confirmed when it was pushed back to reveal the beautiful face of the empress. She had tied her lovely hair in a double braid that brushed the ground and wore a simple white robe cinched at the waist with a gold belt.

Despite his agitation, Xandiar snapped to attention and loudly declared: “Her Imperial Majesty Lisbeth'tyl—”

“That will do, Xandiar. They know who I am. Guard the door. If someone finds out I was here without an escort, the secret services will never let us hear the end of it.”

From the anxiety with which he was wringing his four hands, the poor captain seemed to agree with them. Being solely responsible for his sovereign's safety was clearly too much for his nerves. He went to stand by the door, looking very unhappy.

The empress gracefully sat down and invited the friends to do the same. They obeyed, staring at her in astonishment.

She studied Cal for a moment and then nodded, as if she had just gotten the answer to an enigma. “Caliban Dal Salan, I presume?”

Gorgeous Cal bowed with unbearable grace. “At your service, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“A beautiful disguise. Very original.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Cal gave her a smile so brilliant, the empress blinked and couldn't help but smile back. Then, with visible effort, she got a grip on herself. While carefully avoiding Cal's eye so as not to be distracted, she asked in a clear voice: “What reward could I give to the killers of my uncle?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Robin saw Xandiar start. Fabrice gulped audibly.

This time, Sparrow jumped in.

“Your Majesty,” she said cautiously, “the choice is yours.”

“That is, to the extent that you're also responsible for his death,” said Tara.

Manitou caught his breath, and horrible images of prison bars and dry bread began to flash before his eyes.

The empress didn't react, but merely studied Tara carefully. You could practically hear the gears going around in her head. Finally, she spoke: “How did you know?”

Manitou started breathing again. The bars and the dry bread receded.

“A couple of clues put me on the trail,” answered Tara, whose heart was pounding. “In spite of my being attacked, you didn't call me in, because at the same time the gnomes had come to ask for your help. For the third time in a month. That's what was being whispered in the hallways. You sent hunter-elves to search Prince Bandiou's palace, and they didn't find anything. But courtiers were whispering the word ‘scandal.' I think you'd already been suspicious of your uncle for some time. And when Glul Buglul introduced himself to us, he said that you'd insisted that he be Cal's compensator. You knew that his fiancée was among the prisoners; he'd told you. You guessed that he would turn to Cal to try to find evidence against your uncle. And I'll bet ten to one that you were the person who cast the Mentus Interruptus on Cal and Angelica to keep the Tellers from ‘reading' them. And then got them thrown in jail. When Cal escaped, you prevented anyone from following him. In Lancovit, people didn't even know he had disappeared, which made no sense. That's when I finally understood that you were using us as detectives . . . or bloodhounds.”

Manitou and the others were stunned. They stared in turn at Tara and at the empress, who remained perfectly calm.

‘Your Majesty!” shouted Xandiar angrily. “Let me teach this impertinent girl manners. She is—”

“—quite correct,” the empress said. “Though I'm very surprised that such a young spellbinder could have seen through my strategy.”

“And this was the only solution you could come up with?” exclaimed Tara, angry at having her suspicions confirmed. “To convict an innocent person? To make us risk our lives?”