Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders

by Princess Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian

  She nervously grabbed her strand of white hair and started chewing on it. What was she going to do? Mangus and Tachil were out of action, and so was her grandmother. And Deria was taking much longer than the fifteen minutes she had promised.

  A movement off to the side caught her eye. The carpet had started to boil. The hole reappeared and Manitou popped up into the room. Delighted to see Tara crouching by the window, he padded over and joyfully stuck his cold muzzle in her neck. Tara caught the dog and hugged him tight.

  “By Trebidus, as Grandma would say, were in a real pickle. If Deria doesn’t come back very soon with her high wizard, we’re in big trouble!”

  She pressed her face against the window again and saw some sort of agitation behind the masked man. Two, three, and eventually four things climbed out of the car and started prancing all around him. They were covered with hair and had huge, toothy jaws—but were quite unlike the monstrous creatures of the previous attack.

  In spite of the mask covering his face, the man seemed annoyed.

  “Stop, you stupid Mud Eaters!” he thundered. “Encircle the house, right away. And don’t let anyone out, understand?”

  “Master, Master, nice Master, encircle the house, no one out, encircle!”

  But the Mud Eaters stayed close to the man, not moving.

  “What are you waiting for?” he screamed, as his mask turned an angry shade of red.

  One of the Eaters shuffled up to him and asked: “Er, what mean ‘encircle’?”

  The man’s mask now turned crimson, and Tara thought he was going to explode. The Mud Eaters felt it too. They froze, staring at him in fear.

  “Encircle,” he hissed, “means circling the house so no one can get out. Is that clear?”

  “Very clear, luminous Master, very clear!”

  “Then get going, you stupid mudders!”

  The hairy, drooling beasts headed toward the manor house and vanished behind a corner.

  The man took a few deep breaths and his mask gradually reverted to its shiny gray color.

  “Tara, answer me!” he cried. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m a spellbinder. I’m Magister, Master of the Bloodgraves. I just want to tell you about your parents and your grandmother. Isabella has lied to you and misled you. She has denied you your inheritance, Tara! She hasn’t told you anything. She claims it’s to protect you, but that isn’t true. It’s because she knows that you will be much more powerful than she, that you will become the Imperial Spellbinder, and she doesn’t want that to happen!”

  Tara held the dog tighter. She had no idea what an imperial spellbinder was, but what the Bloodgrave was saying wasn’t wrong. And she was dying to know more. Who were her parents? Where did her grandmother, Deria, Tachil, and Mangus come from? Why had Magister kidnapped her mother and held her prisoner? But if she answered the spellbinder, he might be able to locate her. And he would certainly harm her grandmother.

  The Bloodgrave master seemed to realize that Tara wasn’t going to move, because he walked up to the door and put his hand on the handle. A spark shot out from it. He cursed and took a few steps backward.

  “I know you’re in there, Tara,” he snapped. “I can sense your conscious mind in the house. The confinement spell won’t work against me because I have strength and power. Watch this!”

  He was behaving exactly like evil wizards do in the movies, and it was so fascinating that Tara lost precious moments just watching him.

  With his billowing cape making him look like a giant bat, the man raised his hands very high, shouted something, and sent a jet of light crashing into the door.

  As if she were psychically linked with the house, Tara sensed that it would hold out, but not for long. Thinking fast, she came up with a plan.

  She got up and grabbed her grandmother. Then, without bothering to keep her from bouncing against the walls, she unlocked the bedroom door and ran to Tachil and Mangus’s rooms. They were still asleep.

  She remembered what Deria had told her. It was enough to visualize the bodies rising and make the gesture. She couldn’t remember the spell, but she hadn’t needed it the last time and maybe she wouldn’t now. She concentrated, and the two bodies floated in midair.

  Okay now, how to hide everybody? The man outside had said that he could sense her conscious mind. So if he couldn’t detect her mind in the house, he would leave her alone. All she had to do was to hide the three unconscious bodies—and she had already figured how to do that.

  She took a pair of scissors, walked over to the curtains, and cut the cords that held them. Tying her grandmother and the two servants together, one after another, she raced upstairs to the attic, tugging the bodies behind her. The attic ceiling was very high and dark. Tara took a broom and used the handle to smash the only light bulb in the attic.

  She looked at the unconscious bodies.

  “Okay now,” she muttered. “If I send you up there, will that do the trick?”

  She raised her hand and visualized Isabella, Tachil, and Mangus stuck up against the ceiling. To her great relief, the three bodies obediently rose upward and vanished into the shadows, completely out of sight.

  “Great! So far, so good! Let’s hope the Bloodgrave is like most people and doesn’t think to look up. Now it’s my turn.”

  Quick as a flash, she raced back down to her grandmother’s room and locked the door. She could sense that the spell protecting the house was about to give way. She ran over to the carpet and felt the place where Manitou had put his paw. Nothing happened. At that moment, the protection spell broke with a sharp

  “Ready or not, here I come, Tara!”

  Tara rolled her eyes. Even though she was terrified, she thought the Bloodgrave was really, like, pathetic. A total loser. She stared at the carpet again, but it wasn’t cooperating in the least: not a ripple, nothing.

  “Let’s see,” she thought. “It doesn’t want to open because I’m human, but if I were a dog . . . Manitou, come here!”

  Growling at the sound of the intruder entering the house, the Labrador obediently came over from his position by the door.

  “Manitou, we have to get out of here fast. You have to open the passage, do you understand?”

  But the dog just whined, gave Tara’s face a big lick, and went back to the door.

  Downstairs, the spellbinder was searching for Tara, calling her name.

  “Come here, you stupid dog,” she fumed, “and open this trap door!”

  Manitou looked at her and barked, and a despairing Tara heard the spellbinder react to the sound. He stopped rummaging around and headed straight for the stairs.

  “I don’t know exactly where you are, Tara, but I feel that you aren’t far. Come on, sweetie, there’s no need to be afraid.”

  If there was one thing Tara really hated, it was being called “sweetie.” She dove at Manitou, dragged him to the carpet by the scruff of his neck, grabbed his paw, and forcibly set it on the carpet.

  Nothing happened. The dog twisted away and ran off. Thinking they were playing a new game, he darted across the room, jumped on the bed, slipped under the table, then returned to the carpet where he wagged his tail like a maniac, taunting her.

  Tara could hear the spellbinder climbing the stairs to the landing.

  “Manitou, you’ve got to get us out of here,” she moaned. “Good doggie. Out—now!”

  The Lab cocked his head, seeming to listen to her carefully. He moved, and then without doing it on purpose, put his paw on the carpet. Miraculously, the hole opened just as the bedroom door lock yielded to the Bloodgrave’s incantation.

  Tara grabbed the dog and dove headfirst down the secret passage with him. The hole closed up behind them.

  The two of them tumbled down the passage, which seemed to be shooting them outside. The passageway stone felt warm and oddly pliable. Tara decided she really didn’t want to know what she suspected—that the tunnel was alive!

  They burst out onto the grass behind the manor at the edge
of the woods. She tensed, waiting for a Mud Eater to jump her. Given a choice, though, she preferred those hairy beasts to the Bloodgrave. So she was startled to see the Mud Eaters walking away from her, marching all altogether toward the front of the house.

  At that, she laughed. The Bloodgrave master didn’t tell them that they had to stay behind the house, only that to encircle meant to go around it, which is probably what the Mud Eaters had been doing for the last quarter of an hour.

  Repressing an incipient attack of the giggles, Tara ran to hide in the woods. Even in the dark, she knew every tree and clearing by heart. The Bloodgrave had no chance of finding her there.

  Suddenly, she heard an angry roar, followed by a terrific explosion. She turned and saw that in his rage, the Bloodgrave had blown off the roof of the house. To her horror, the walls of the manor house burst into flames.

  CHAPTER 3

  WIZARD AND FIRE

  This was too much for Tara, who collapsed on the ground, sobbing. She didn’t see the Bloodgrave, whose mask had turned a terrible black, roast one of the Mud Eaters with a fiery ray, order the others into the car, and speed off. All she knew was that Isabella, Mangus, and Tachil had just died a horrible death, and it was her fault.

  Unable to console his mistress, Manitou was distracted by the sound of someone softly calling to him, and went to investigate. Tara didn’t even notice him leave.

  A few moments later, the dog returned in the company of a funny little man in a blue tunic that was slit up the side and covered with silver dragons. His golden eyes were half hidden by an improbable thatch of white hair, making him look like an old owl. He wore silver slippers with curved-up tips, their shiny material crisscrossed with little waves.

  “Tara? Look at me, please.”

  The girl started. She’d been so devastated by pain that she’d lowered her guard, and the Bloodgrave had found her! Ready to do battle, she glared into the very gentle eyes of the strange man peering down at her. Was he a friend or enemy?

  She spotted Deria behind the odd little man, and leapt to her feet.

  “Why didn’t you come back sooner?” Tara screamed. “Because of you, Grandma, Tachil, and Mangus are dead, and the Bloodgrave tried to catch me! You abandoned me! I hate you!”

  “A Bloodgrave? But . . . but . . . ” stammered Deria, completely thrown by the girl’s fury. “Stop it, Tara! Calm down.”

  “After everything she’s undergone, I think this child needs some rest,” said the old owl-like man. “We can question her later.” Gesturing as if he was tossing sand at Tara, he recited, “By Somnolus, I bid you sleep, your slumber dreamless, calm, and deep.”

  Tara could feel a spell being cast on her, but she turned on the old man like a fury, fists clenched. No way was she giving in. She didn’t need sleep, she needed answers—lots of answers! Resisting with all her might, she used her anger and pain to counter the wave of sleep that threatened to overcome her. To the wizard’s and Deria’s great surprise, Tara remained standing, defying them.

  “Don’t bother trying!” she raged. “I don’t want to sleep. My grandmother and the others just died because of me, so you’re going to give me some answers! Who am I? What’s going on? And why did that Bloodgrave guy want to kill me?”

  Eyes wide with astonishment, the old man answered her as clearly as he could.

  “If that Bloodgrave had wanted to kill you, Tara, you would be dead by now. I don’t think that’s what he was after. I have a hunch he wanted . . . hmm . . . to kidnap you. Yes, that’s right, kidnap you.”

  She was speechless.

  Relieved that Tara had stopped yelling at her, Deria agreed.

  “Chemnashaovirodaintrachivu is right, Tara. You have to trust him. Now tell us what happened. When we saw the fire we thought you might be hurt or worse, and we’re relieved to see that you’re okay. But you say that my companions and your grandmother are dead. How? Did your attacker kill them?”

  So this was the famous Chem-amajig who was supposed to be so powerful? He sure didn’t fit what Tara imagined a high wizard would look like. His hair was all tangled, and his robe clearly displayed the remains of his last meal. Facing the monstrous Bloodgrave, this old guy wouldn’t last a minute, she thought.

  Seeing Deria waiting patiently, Tara told her what happened. How she had hidden the bodies in the attic and had escaped through the dog’s secret trap door. How the Bloodgrave master had blown up the house in his rage and then left, probably when he saw them coming.

  She was about to go on when a strange object passed between them and the shining moon. A lowflying cloud? No, it was Tachil!

  Heart pounding, she sprinted out of the woods.

  Separated by the explosion, the three bodies were floating along with the wind. In a few minutes they would drift over the village. She absolutely had to stop that. Concentrating, she ordered them down.

  The old wizard was surprised to see the scorched bodies descend without Tara making a gesture or saying a word. But he said nothing to Deria, who emerged from the forest behind him and didn’t see anything.

  “Are they dead?” asked Tara in a small, shaky voice as the wizard carefully examined them.

  “No. They were protected by the levitation field you created around them. When the Bloodgrave blew up the house he must’ve blown off the roof, unaware that he was saving their lives. You saved them by hiding them up in the attic. I’ll look after them. Follow us.”

  The old wizard cast a spell, and the bodies slipped from Tara’s control to obey him. He did this so casually that he rose a few degrees in the girl’s esteem.

  But the sight of the manor hit Tara like a body blow. The roof that the Bloodgrave master had blown off lay on the ground, split in half. Every window had shattered in the explosion, and flames were destroying what remained of the walls.

  The wizard nodded his bushy head, took a deep breath, and roared: “By the Elementus you are hereby bidden to let us see those forces hidden.”

  All the flames immediately coalesced into a single place in the ravaged building.

  “I’ll be darned,” gasped Deria. “A fire elemental! We’ve got a big problem on our hands.”

  “What . . . what’s that?” blurted Tara.

  “It’s a fire spirit. There are thousands of fire, earth, water, and wind elementals on all the worlds. The Bloodgrave summoned this one to commit as much damage as possible. Try to imagine a fire that is intelligent and destructive, and you have a fire elemental.”

  It was true. To Tara’s amazement the flames gathered into a gigantic scarlet shape with a flickering head and two arms. Great! Now fire was taking human shape!

  Spotting the wizard, who looked very small next to it, the burning elemental leaned close, displaying a mouth full of sharp teeth, each of which was a tiny flame.

  “Aaaaah!” it crackled. “Chemnashaovirodaintrachivu, you old pile of flammable garbage, what do you want? Why are you interrupting my dinner?”

  “This doesn’t have my authorization,” cried the wizard. “Leave the manor house alone!”

  “But you didn’t summon me, you trash heap, so you can’t banish me until I’ve eaten everything up.”

  At that, the elemental casually picked up a section of wall and tossed it into its infernal mouth, where it disappeared.

  “I’m warning you,” the old wizard answered quietly. “Leave now or suffer the consequences.”

  Tara screamed. Without any warning, the elemental had shot a jet of flame at the wizard’s small figure. His robe began to burn, and he vanished in a thick cloud of smoke. She was about to rush over to him when he reappeared, wearing only silver long underwear and blue socks—and looking very angry.

  “Odd bodkins!” he roared. “One of my nicest robes! And my best magic shoes! You’re going to pay for that!”

  The elemental was surprised that its fire hadn’t vaporized the wizard, but it recovered quickly.

  “So what do you plan to do, you ridiculous bundle of rags? There isn’t
enough of that cursed water around to hurt me. And there aren’t any water elementals in the area.”

  “Oh, but water won’t be necessary!” said the wizard. He waved his hand at the building’s rubble and shouted: “By Vomitus spit up what you’ve devoured, and restore the manor within the hour.”

  He had hardly recited the spell when the elemental started to gag, then vomit. Dozens of chunks of debris spurted from its mouth, flying back to their proper places on the manor walls. And the more the elemental vomited, the smaller it got.

  “Mercy!” it gasped. “Please stop!”

  But the wizard was relentless. When the creature was reduced to a twitching red homunculus, he recited another spell, and a bottle of water appeared in his hand. He calmly sprinkled it on the remains of the infernal fire being, and the bottle and the elemental disappeared together with a dull

  The wizard rubbed his hands with satisfaction. Then, ignoring the fact that he was still in his underwear, he said: “By Fixus mend both tile and rafter, and cap the house forever after.”

  The crumpled roof pulled itself together and flew up to settle snugly atop the manor walls.

  Dumbfounded, Tara realized that everything was completely back to normal. No sign of the fire remained except a puddle of water by the front door. Talk about efficient restoration work!

  Even Deria was impressed.

  “Magnificent,” she said. “Masterful! Tara, did you hear the formula he chose?”

  “Yes. He said, ‘By Vomitus—’”

  “Aaaah!” cried Deria, “Don’t say it! Not until you’ve mastered your powers. You could cause a disaster. I really don’t feel like puking up my dinner, if you don’t mind.”

  “Oops, sorry! But why did you ask me if I heard it?”

  “Because it was a very clever thing to do. To defeat a fire elemental, you usually need to have a lot of water, or a water elemental. Since Chem didn’t have either he attacked the elemental’s weak point.”

  “Its weak point?”

  “Fire feeds on what it consumes. This elemental had become huge because it had ‘eaten’ half the manor house. So by forcing it to disgorge everything it had swallowed, Chemnashaovirodaintrachivu weakened it to the point where he could defeat it easily. A very subtle tactic.”