Tara Duncan and the Forbidden Book (37 page)

“I get it now,” said Tara with a smile. “I didn't realize how much you have to constantly control yourself. All right, you're a better detective than I am. What do you make of these tracks?”

“With spellbinders, it's hard to tell,” he said. “Going by the stride, I'd say it's a man. The steps are long and powerful. And given the depth of the footprints, he's pretty heavy. But he could well have transformed himself, so none of that means much.”

“Can you determine where he went?”

“No, I can't. Do you see that cloud of glitter?”

Now that he mentioned it, Tara could see golden particles floating in the air.

“Your killer's clever. He cast a Dislocus behind himself, a spell that confuses elf senses. We can only hope that he left enough footprints.”

It was a little like tracking Tom Thumb. The winding steps led to a door in the wall. They opened it and found themselves facing a wall of flame.

The footprints had indeed led to Master Chem's office. Startled by their interruption, the dragon very nearly barbecued them.

Recognizing Cal, he stopped instantly.

“I'll be darned!” Chem roared. “What are you doing here, Caliban? Robin? And who are you, Miss Elf?”

Tara smiled at him. “I see that my disguise is working, Master. Didn't you recognize me?”

“Tara?” The dragon's eyes were round with astonishment. “What're you doing, looking like that?”

“Somebody tried to kill her again, Master Chem,” explained Robin. “Last night. So we thought a little mystification might be in order. The killer will be sure he succeeded.”

The dragon drew his enormous eyebrows together in a frown. “But how did you get to my office?”

Cal explained. When the dragon wizard learned there were unknown tunnels in the castle—where he'd been living for many hundreds of years, after all—he was amazed.

“Er, Master Chem, could you please change yourself back to normal size?” asked Tara, who was getting a crick in her neck from looking up at him.

“Oh, yes, of course.”

In the place of the imposing dragon appeared wizened old Chem, who muttered, “This changes everything!”

“What changes everything?” asked Tara innocently.

Master Chem gave her a sharp glance and continued: “I think hiring you, in your elf shape, is a very good idea. I'll announce that the warrior elf Manludil T'aril has come to the castle to investigate not Tara's killing, which we'd have no way of anticipating, but the murder committed by the vampyr. Then, when your death is officially announced, we'll put you in charge of that investigation as well. Does that suit you? And in four days you'll go back home to Earth, as agreed. Show me your accreditation card; I'm going to modify it.”

He passed his hand over Tara's wrist, changing her name and picture.

“My name is Manludil T'aril, and I'm an investigator,” she read from her accredi-card. “That suits me fine. But I can't sleep in my usual room, it would look strange. Where do elves live in the castle?”

“We have rooms in the guest wing and in the quarters reserved for Lancovit secret service agents,” Robin answered with a little smile. “But we elves usually prefer to sleep out in the park. We don't like being shut in.”

“Well, I prefer a bed, if you don't mind,” she announced firmly. “Sleeping in trees—no thanks. They've already tried to kill me, and I'm not going to make the job easier by falling out of a tree in my sleep and smashing my skull.”

Robin looked disappointed, but he didn't argue.

Leaving the dragon to arrange Tara's cover story, they left by the second secret passage. (Master Chem had looked shaken when he learned there wasn't just one but two passages in his own office!)

“You were right,” whispered Cal once they were in the tunnel.

“About what?” asked Tara.

“Our national dragon really wants you to stay a little while longer on OtherWorld. Here you almost got killed again, but he didn't immediately ship you back to Earth. Very odd.”

The other tunnels led to the high wizards' quarters, then descended to the dungeons and eventually to the passage they'd taken when they discreetly entered the castle the last time. By then, the friends had run out of time, so they decided to resume their search in the coming days.

Everyone in Lancovit accepted their story, and Tara was impressed to learn how respected elves were in the kingdom. Whenever she asked questions she got prompt, deferential answers.

Tara's new identity opened many doors for her, and she took advantage of that to make a complete tour of the castle. This included zones that had been off limits to her as a spellbinder, but which the king and queen had opened to the elf investigator.

She learned that the former royal chambers that the passages led to had been given to the high wizards when the castle was enlarged in the twenty-second century. All right, that limits the field of research a little, she thought. The killer had to be a high wizard living in one of those chambers who knew about the passages and could easily access them. So who? Lady Boudiou? No, the old lady seemed genuinely fond of her. Besides, Tara couldn't quite imagine her running around drawing a crossbow. Lady Sirella? She hadn't had much contact with the beautiful mermaid, so it was hard to tell. Master Den'maril? Elves were warriors, as she was now in a position to know. Could she have accidentally offended him? No. Elves preferred formal confrontations; he would have challenged her directly. It couldn't be Master Chanfrein or Master Patin, since the most recent attack happened while they were away in the Swamps of Desolation. Master Sardoin, the spatial mathematics specialist who was Cal's master, didn't look brave enough to swat a fly. And what about Master Dragosh?

Tara had a lot of questions, but not a single answer yet.

In addition, she was becoming more and more concerned about Fafnir and the two high wizards. They hadn't given any sign of life since their departure.

During the somewhat calm days that followed, Tara's friends talked about recent events and congratulated themselves on the ruse they had devised. No one had tried to kill, strangle, broil, or skewer Tara in her persona as an investigating elf. They hadn't made any progress in finding the killer, but at least they'd been left alone.

The mock corpse had been discreetly shipped to Earth, where Master Chem paid a quick visit to explain the situation to Isabella and Selena. Tara was afraid her grandmother would come haul her off by the scruff of the neck, but Isabella was apparently satisfied with Chem's promise to send her granddaughter back soon.

On the fourth day, on the eve of her return to Earth, Tara, Robin, Gallant, Cal, and Blondin were snooping around the secret passage, where they had discovered several dusty, unused rooms. Tara hadn't said anything about it, but she was now very worried about Fafnir's continued absence.

They were struggling to control their sneezes when they suddenly heard an odd noise, something like a giant foghorn choking on a cat. They listened carefully, and Tara suddenly recognized the sound.

“It's Fafnir!” she exclaimed. “She's . . . singing!”

One of the passages led to a hallway close to the Transfer Portal Room. They ran to it and emerged to witness an incredible scene.

There was Fafnir, accompanied by Master Chanfrein and Master Patin, singing her lungs out.

For a moment they thought she was singing for joy. But the dwarf's beautiful green eyes were filled with horror and her two companions' skins were turned completely purple! A cloud of black smoke was rising from the two wizards' bodies and drifting inexorably toward the stupefied guards and the Cyclops. Fafnir roared:

After the battle of the canyonnns,

The dwarves and all their brave companionnns

Made the enemies bend their kneees

Say their prayers and shout their pleeeas

Submit to the valiant rulers of the gorrrge

The great clan of the Fireforrrge!

The black smoke seemed to be carefully keeping its distance from her. Suddenly, Fafnir started yelling in a voice hoarse with exhaustion: “Run away! As long as I'm singing it can't completely possess me, but I can't hold out much longer! I've been singing for the last five days!”

The moment she started talking, the black smoke drew closer, and Fafnir desperately began singing again:

Lovely Talnir, blacksmith fairrr

Had a lover dark of hairrr

His forge was new, his hammer truuue

The sparks that flew between the twooo

Inspired songs quite beautifulll

From their village of Tanderulll!

As if repulsed, the black smoke again moved away from her. Instead, fast as a striking cobra, it leapt at the retreating guards. Their skin immediately turned purple, and their eyes glassy. Seeing that, the spellbinders put up protection shields, but the smoke wafted through them as if they didn't exist.

Tara was paralyzed with astonishment, but Robin leapt into action. With inhuman speed he dodged an approaching smoky tentacle, grabbed Cal and Tara by their arms, and dragged them off, running fast. “Quick, to the passageway! We've got to get out of here!”

“What about the others?” yelled Tara, now panicked. “Sparrow, my great-grandfather, Fab—”

“No time!” interrupted Robin, pulling her along.

They reached the passage just in time. With the door closed behind them, they were safely hidden. It became apparent that the Ravager was using Fafnir's memories to invade the Living Castle, but since she didn't know about the secret tunnels, they were out of danger for the time being.

In the dark, Cal started to say something, but Robin instantly clapped his hand over his mouth.

With her cat-like elf vision, Tara could see him gesturing at them to keep quiet. They moved away from the door and entered one of abandoned rooms.

“This should be okay,” whispered Robin. “Nobody should be able to hear us here.”

“It's the Ravager, isn't it?” gasped Tara. “He managed to possess the two wizards and force Fafnir to come back here so he could seize the Castle. And he seems to be able to contaminate other people very easily.”

“I think it's even worse than that,” murmured Cal. “Did you notice that Fafnir was wearing different clothes? She wasn't coming back from the Gray Fortress. I think the Ravager has already taken Hymlia!”

Robin and Tara stared at each other, deeply dismayed.

“After elves, dwarves are the fiercest warriors on this planet,” said Robin. “If the Ravager has overcome the dwarves, then humans won't be able to hold out very long.”

“We've got to leave,” said Cal. “The Voice was very specific. It said the only way to defeat the Ravager is to attack the source of his power, the Island of Black Roses, with the help of the White Soul.”

“But what if we can't find it?” asked Tara.

For the first time, she felt discouraged. In a strange way, she could face the fact of someone trying to kidnap or kill her. But, if they went after her friends, it sapped her strength and made her feel unable to fight.

In the darkness, Cal shrugged, saying, “I'm sure I'll be as handsome as ever with purple skin, but it's going to clash terribly with my blond hair!”

Tara couldn't help chuckling. Cal had his own way of dispelling anxiety.

“So, what do we do?” she asked.

“First, we get out of here,” said Cal. “The Transfer Portal will almost certainly be guarded. So we'll take the passage the Castle showed me, the one we used to come in the last time. Once we're outside, we'll decide what to do next. All right?”

“Okay. Let's go.”

It was quiet in the tunnels, and Tara realized with a shiver that the dwarf's voice could no longer be heard. Fafnir had fallen silent.

The secret passages that the killer had used connected with the Living Castle's tunnels, so they soon reached the dungeons below. They quickly realized that the guards there had also been infected. With glassy eyes and purple skin, they were walking around like zombies.

Cal went first, in a foul mood because his new body greatly impaired his natural agility and secrecy. Then Robin waved Tara ahead.

She ran forward and had almost reached the exit when a dark mass crashed down on her, half knocking her out. Her reaction was lightning fast. In a single motion, she let herself fall, rolled on her shoulder, and drew her sword. She only stopped her blade when it was a hair's breadth of the throat of a vampyr!

It was a good thing her reflexes were equally fast, because she'd almost slit Master Dragosh's throat.

“Good grief!” she hissed. “You can't go around jumping on people like that! I nearly killed you!”

The bat tried to answer, but produced only a squeaking gibber. Then Dragosh remembered that he couldn't speak in that form, and he shape-shifted.

Tara, Robin, and Cal examined him very carefully. Red eyes, white fangs, black hair, and nice pale skin—not the slightest trace of purple. All right, everything was fine. For the time being, anyway.

“Miss Duncan?” breathed the incredulous vampyr. “What are you doing here, disguised as an elf?”

“It's a long story,” she whispered quickly, “and this isn't exactly the place to tell it. How did you recognize me?”

“By your smell. I was about to neutralize you when I recognized your smell. Elf blood isn't harmful to us, but human blood is, terribly. If I had bitten you, I would have been contaminated!”

Tara frowned. Contaminated? She stared at the vampyr, who was shaking with anxiety. Her brain was working at top speed. But in that case . . .

Cal's voice interrupted her thoughts. “Hey, this is no time to slow down! Let's get out of here before we're spotted.”

The Living Castle opened the secret passage to the street behind the building, and they soon found themselves outside. On the streets of Travia, nobody seemed aware of what was happening in the castle. People were going about their business without realizing the terrible danger threatening them from within.