To Chem’s question, Tara’s other two friends answered the same way Cal had. They wouldn’t abandon her, they said, and would stay no matter the risk.
“Very well,” said the wizard approvingly. “So let’s begin. Shaman Night Bird?”
The shaman indicated that he was ready. Chem opened The Forbidden Book and put the Kalorna roots in the goblets around Tara. As a ring of red smoke rose around them, they all chanted together: “By The Forbidden Book, we seek your aid. Allow us to cross through Limbo unscathed. Guide us through the demonic sphere. Our hearts are pure, we have no fear!”
The room disappeared in a deafening thunderclap, and they all found themselves floating in a vast, empty gray plain. There was nothing to see except for a sickly purple sky, a few clouds wondering how they wound up there, and rocks that seemed to have been abandoned millions of years before. The whole scene was so depressing that the travelers felt their morale sink.
When they’d started out, Cal had been holding Tara’s right hand, Fabrice her left, and Sparrow her head, but they now found themselves empty-handed. Their bodies had lost all substance—they had turned into ghosts!
“What’s going on, Master Chem?” asked Cal in a voice verging on panic. “What do we do now?”
The old wizard looked annoyed.
“Drat! I assumed that our bodies would follow us, but apparently only our minds made the trip. Be very careful. Whatever happens to our minds here will also happen to our bodies back on OtherWorld. All right. According to the book, we will soon encounter the ruler of this part of Limbo. His mansion should walk by in a few minutes.”
“Hey, where am I?” asked Tara, who had suddenly woken up and couldn’t understand why she was floating in empty space. “I don’t hurt anymore. Did you cure me?”
“No, unfortunately,” said the old wizard. “We don’t have an antidote to the poison. Our minds are in Limbo, which is why you aren’t feeling any pain, but our bodies are still back in the infirmary.”
He paused and looked around.
“Aha! Here comes the Demon King’s mansion now. Watch your step, everyone, and don’t respond to provocations.”
Yikes! thought Sparrow. What kind of provocations?
Borne on four gigantic legs, a huge, black basalt mansion was striding toward them. As it got closer, they could tell it had been built by someone who had seen a house only once and tried to replicate it without understanding what the openings were for. The doors were up high, and the windows down low. The roof had been mounted on the side of the walls, leaving the upper floor exposed to the elements.
The old wizard nodded at the group to follow him, levitated, and without hesitation flew through the mansion walls, followed by the shaman and the four friends. Despite the grimness of the situation, Tara loved being able to fly, even though passing through the wall really did make her feel like a ghost.
Once inside, they were seized by terrible vertigo. All the colors that had been stripped from the gray plain were locked in a terrible battle with each other. On the left-hand wall and part of the floor, a brilliant yellow was trying to sneak up on the adjoining wall’s vivid red. On the right-hand wall, a tough blue was launching an offensive against a fearful white, which retreated before the threat. The black ceiling extended tentative tentacles that sometimes got drawn into the other colors’ skirmishes.
In the exact center of the room, floating in space, was an opening through which the gray plain outside could be seen. This opening was obviously the focus of all five colors’ attention, and they were spreading across the floor, falling from the ceiling, and erupting from the walls in their efforts to reach it. Master Chem and his group had to advance very cautiously so as not to get caught up in the confrontation.
“Hey!” Cal suddenly cried. “We’re becoming solid again!”
And in fact their bodies were very gradually acquiring mass.
“By Baltur’s bowels!” cursed the wizard. “The demon has cast a spell that sends visitors into the colors’ trap and imprisons them there. We’re neither fully material nor immaterial anymore—we’re somewhere between the two. Problem is, the colors will be able to touch us, and what is worse, capture us!”
“What . . . what are we g-g-gonna d-d-do?” cried Sparrow in a panic.
Chem looked at his hand, which was now only faintly translucent.
“The demon has trapped the colors in his mansion, and they’re battling each other to get out through the magic opening in the center,” he growled. “Their plan is probably to stick to us and ride outside with us. So don’t touch the walls, or they’ll catch us. And we have to hurry; otherwise we won’t be able to pass through walls anymore. Follow me!”
By some mysterious sense, the colors could hear the old wizard’s voice. They were now still—and watchful. Red suddenly shot toward Chem’s feet, and he was just able to avoid it. But this brought the wizard close to black, which saw its chance. A long black tentacle dropped from the ceiling and Chem had to jump backward to avoid it. Following him, Tara, Cal, Sparrow, Fabrice, and Night Bird zigzagged at top speed around the traps the colors laid for them.
Suddenly, Fabrice cried out. He hadn’t been able to dodge blue, and his hand was slowly turning color.
Distracted by Fabrice, Sparrow was touched by red, and her leg turned purple. As he tried to free Fabrice, Cal was touched by yellow and black. Chem was unable to duck white and red. First blue, then white caught Night Bird. The more they struggled, the tighter the colors stuck to them! Tara, unable to dodge yellow and red, saw them color her skin. But instead of mixing and becoming orange, they began fighting right on her body.
“Colors, listen to me!” Tara shouted. “I know how to free you! We aren’t going to leave the mansion without seeing the Demon King. So there’s no point in trying to get out by sticking to us, because he will never allow you to leave. But if you listen to me, you’ll be able to escape on your own.”
For a moment, she thought the colors didn’t hear, because they continued their pointless fighting. But then red stopped to listen, yellow ignored black, and white and blue quit waving their tentacles.
“You have to work together,” continued Tara. “Otherwise it will be impossible for you to use the exit and you’ll go on fighting until the end of time. So please line up in order: white, yellow, red, blue, and black. Then stand in front of the opening in the center of the room. Go on!”
Reluctantly at first, the colors obeyed. Despite some shoving and grumbling, white lined up with yellow, then red, blue, and finally black. At first nothing happened, and Tara felt a twinge of panic, thinking she’d made a mistake.
But then the colors started whirling around each other with a sharp whistling sound, and a gorgeous rainbow lit up the room. United at last, the colors joyfully poured through the central opening and burst outside, brightly coloring the entire plain.
“Wow, that was a stroke of genius!” shouted Fabrice, startling them all. “I was afraid I was going to live out my life as a little blue man!”
“Is everybody okay?” asked Master Chem, who was examining himself all over, to be sure the colors hadn’t left any marks on his skin
“T-T-Tara!” Sparrow suddenly cried. “L-L-Look at your throat!”
Tara looked down, but she couldn’t see what the others found so surprising: an unusual design had appeared on her throat. Before departing, the colors had apparently left her a thank-you present. Each color had deposited a bit of glowing hue: yellow, gold; blue, sapphire; white, diamond; red, ruby; and black, ebony. Together, they formed a striking, jewel-like pattern. It was at the base of her throat, and she could cover it by raising her collar.
“Whoa!” said Tara, impressed. “I hope that won’t be on my skin when I get back to Travia.”
“I’m sorry, but as I said, everything that happens to us here also happens there,” said the wizard. “But this means that if you ever need the colors, just call their name, and they’ll come.”
He paused.
Master Chem flew through the wall, quickly followed by the others. They landed in a large hall, skidding to a stop so as not to bump into the fearsome black dragon that awaited them.
Tara stumbled backward. She remembered what Chem had said about dragons that went crazy—and any dragon who lived in a house like this one had to be seriously deranged.
All around them, swarms of demons were writhing, drooling, cursing, and generally making an infernal din. They came in all types, sizes, and colors. Some were so disgusting that just looking at them made the four young friends nauseous.
Ignoring the deafening racket, Chem bowed politely to the black dragon.
“Your Demonic Majesty, you do me great honor by appearing as a dragon. Wouldn’t you prefer to take your own shape?”
The dragon answered in a thunderous voice so deep it shook all of Limbo and silenced the crowds of demons.
“Won’t that frighten your young companions? I hate the sound of screaming.”
So just what were the other demons doing? wondered Sparrow sarcastically. Singing lullabies?
“They’ve been very well trained, Your Demonic Majesty,” said the old wizard patiently. “They won’t be frightened.”
Tara shot him a look. What did he mean, they wouldn’t be afraid? Easy for him to say! They were already terrified.
The black dragon disappeared and the Demon King materialized in his normal shape. Tara didn’t scream at the sight, but only with tremendous effort.
The Demon King was an enormous mouth with a long, disgusting purple tongue dotted with large black spots, set on an oozing white ball bristling with tentacles. Each tentacle had an eyeball at its end, and the variety of eyes was amazing. They were red, green, and blue; some were tiny, others enormous.
Taken all together, it was enough to make you toss your cookies.
The demon settled comfortably on a sort of throne, licked himself with his huge tongue, and turned his hundreds of eyes to Master Chem.
“What can I do for the powerful High Wizard Chemnashaovirodaintrachivu?” he asked. “It’s been an eternity since I’ve seen humans in my dimension. The last time was about a dozen of your years ago, I believe. A young spellbinder came to me seeking power. I was happy to give it to him, and the results exceeded his hopes!”
“You knew very well what you were doing when you gave Magister demonic power,” the old wizard snapped. “He’s gone crazy and is completely out of control. He has become so powerful that he wants to dominate all our worlds. He hurt this girl in his quest for power, and you are as responsible for her condition as if you had wounded her yourself. You know the terms of our agreements. Ever since the last great war, when we dragons and spellbinders defeated you demons, dragons don’t attack demons and demons don’t bother dragons!”
Now this was interesting, thought Tara, carefully noting what the two opponents were saying.
“That wasn’t our choice,” thundered the Demon King bitterly. “And you imprisoned us in a limbo we can only leave when you call us, like servants!”
But Master Chem stood his ground. The demon calmed down, then spoke again.
“Anyway, this girl is human, unless I’m very much mistaken,” he purred malevolently. “She’s certainly no dragon. And I’m pretty sure our agreements don’t cover humans.”
“Attacking our humans is the same as attacking us,” the wizard responded stoutly. “I demand reparation.”
“Nice try, but it won’t work,” said the demon with a chuckle. “I know the terms of our agreements as well as you do, Chem. We have conventions and we respect them. Or do you want a new war between demons and dragons to establish new bases for negotiation? If so, I’m at your disposal.”
The noisy swarm of demons suddenly began paying close attention. Shaman Night Bird visibly paled.
Master Chem had no choice.
“No, I don’t want that,” he said reluctantly. “I will merely ask that Your Majesty donate his skills to treat the girl.”
“Donate? You must be dreaming, old lizard! You may be hiding in human shape but your dragon duplicity shines through. I never do anything for free. But let’s suppose I did treat her. What would my reward be?”
“I have a nice fresh harpy egg that can be transferred here immediately. That’s a good price for a vial of harpy poison antidote.”
The mass of tentacles began to shake with laughter.
“Harpy poison? Really? You must think I’m an idiot. I have no interest in your egg. What about your Escalidos pentacle? I know you retrieved it a century ago, and I could use it.”
The old wizard scowled. Tara didn’t know what an Escalidos pentacle was, but it was apparently pretty valuable.
“Oh, very well,” Master Chem said with ill grace. “My pentacle in exchange for a vial of antidote.”
The Demon King gazed at the wizard thoughtfully, licked an eyeball, then let his tongue loll out with amusement.
“I would have taken your pentacle with great pleasure,” he said, and sighed. “But I don’t have the antidote you’re speaking of, alas. And if I don’t have it, nobody does!”
“So why are we even discussing this?” asked Cal angrily before Chem could speak.
The Demon King opened a huge mouth amid his tentacles and began to laugh again.
“Why, for the pleasure of seeing the great Chemnashaovirodaintrachivu give in, of course! I was wondering how far he would go to save the little human girl.”
Now Tara was angry as well. The demon was mocking the old wizard and clearly enjoying his discomfiture.
“Then go to the devil if you can’t help us!” she cried. “Let’s leave, Master Chem. This babbling blob talks a good game, but he doesn’t actually have any power. You would’ve done better to approach someone really powerful.”
“Aha, the little girl has teeth and knows how to use them,” said the Demon King, furious at being insulted in front of his entire court. “So you don’t think I’m powerful, eh? Well, we’ll see about that. Go on back to your world. You’ll be thinking of me very, very soon. Sparidam!”
The spell hit the group like a hammer blow, blasting them out of Limbo like wisps of straw. They barely heard the Demon King’s roar of fury when he discovered the colors capering freely about on his plain.
In a flash, the travelers’ disoriented minds were rejoined with their bodies in the Travia Castle infirmary.
When she reentered her body, Tara noticed that something had changed. She was still aware of the burning poison that was slowly killing her, but she was now able to keep the pain at bay. In fact, she felt fine. She jumped up, not realizing that her body was hovering above the infirmary floor.
Cal was just able to grab her just before she banged her head on the ceiling.
“Hey, what d’you think you’re doing?” he asked in surprise. “How do you feel?”
“Great!” she replied joyously. “I feel wonderful! Oh, look: the color pattern came back with me.”
It was true; the design on her throat glowed like a baroque, wild jewel.
Shaman Night Bird came over and passed his hand in front of the girl’s face, then looked at his palm and read it.
“I don’t understand,” he said, looking disconcerted. “The poison is still in her system, but she doesn’t seem to be experiencing its effects. Very odd.”
“Demon humor is very peculiar,” said Chem somberly, who was very worried. “Tara challenged the Demon King’s power, and, since he was unable to cure her, he must have done something to help her fight the poison’s effects. But if she doesn’t get that antidote very soon, she will die.”
“We don’t have any choice, then,” said Cal thoughtfully. “Tell me, Master, are those Bloodgrave masks solid, or just illusions to hide their faces?”
“They’re illusio
ns, otherwise they couldn’t breathe. Why?”
“Because I have a plan, but I’m going to need your help.”
In a few words Cal told the group what he wanted to do. The old wizard was completely against the idea at first, but he quickly realized he had no choice but to go along.
When the image of the masked Bloodgrave master next appeared on the infirmary wall, everything was in place. Tara was lying unconscious on a floating stretcher, with only Master Chem present.
“So, are you ready?” asked Magister gleefully.
“She’s dying, you vicious Bloodgrave,” snapped the old wizard bitterly. “I’m going to take her to the Portal Hall now. But you better give her the antidote immediately. Otherwise we’ll have done all this just to transfer a corpse.”
Magister leaned over the stretcher to peer at the girl. Tara’s face was flushed with fever, and she was delirious.
“Then hurry up,” he ordered the wizard. “My assistant is leaving now and should reach you in less than thirty seconds.”
Pushing the floating stretcher ahead, Chem reached the room just as Magister’s assistant was materializing. Cautiously, the Bloodgrave cast a spell to reveal any invisible wizards ready to attack him, but there was only Tara and Chem. He checked that no one was lurking under the stretcher, but there wasn’t room for anyone to hide down there.
“It’s useless to try to follow me,” he warned. “My destination Portal is simply re-sending me somewhere else.”
“I won’t try,” said Chem, “but please get going. She’s dying.”
The Bloodgrave nodded then shouted, “Sylvine Forest!”
They disappeared.
Tara and the Bloodgrave materialized in a forest clearing, and he shouted, “Tylerthorn!”
They disappeared again, this time materializing in a room where the Master of Bloodgraves was waiting, a small vial in his hand.
Magister approached Tara and was raising her head to help her drink when the seemingly unconscious girl suddenly grabbed him—with four hands!
Before the astonished Bloodgrave knew what was happening, his masked face was sprayed with a dark powder. He gave a terrific sneeze that practically bent him double. He dropped the vial, but one of Tara’s extra hands caught it.
Tara Duncan and the Spellbinders Page 13