“Yes, the taludi got it all. We just have to bring it to the empress.”
Just then, a moan surprised them. The Demon King was coming to. His tentacles were twitching, and he was trying to open his dozens of eyes.
Master Chem acted promptly. Using his tail, he slammed the demon’s weak point at the base of his tongue and sent him back to nightmare land. Then he said, “If we’re finished here, I’ll create a portal and we can leave.”
With a claw, Chem delicately took The Forbidden Book from the saddlebag and was about to pick up the taludi when they all suddenly jumped. A second ghost had appeared before them. Panicked, Cal was afraid that Brandis wanted to change his judgment, but this ghost was taller than the boy and much older.
It was staring at them with equal astonishment.
Incredulous, Tara recognized its deep blue eyes, so like her own, and the mass of blond hair punctuated with the imperial white forelock. She knew its face for having gazed at it thousands of times in old photographs.
“Dad?” she exclaimed.
“Who . . . who are you?” asked the ghost, frowning.
“Dad! It’s me, Tara!”
“Tara’tylanhnem? That’s impossible! My daughter is only two years old.”
“Dad, it is me. Look at me! Oh, Dad, I can’t believe it! Is it really you?”
The ghost looked her over carefully, then smiled broadly.
“Tara! My baby!”
He rushed to take his daughter in his arms . . . and went right through her.
“Oh,” he said, a note of bottomless sorrow in his voice. “I forgot that I can’t touch you.”
Tara’s mind was in a whirl. It’s my father, my father! It was almost physically painful not to be able to run into his arms. A pain they shared, because her father stammered: “My baby, I’m so sorry!”
Tara nodded and glanced at her friends, who were caught between laughter and surprise.
“Er, Dad?”
“What, baby?”
“I’m twelve years old, almost thirteen, so it would be nice if you could avoid the ‘my baby.’ Please?”
Danviou smiled at his daughter tenderly. “I’m sorry, darling. When I left, you were barely two, so it’s something I’ll have to get used to. No more ‘baby,’ I promise. Is ‘my darling’ okay?”
“That’s perfect, Dad. I’m so happy to be able to see and talk to you! I’ve missed you so much—you and Mom. And to find both of you in such a short time, I can hardly believe it.”
Danviou frowned. “Find us? Weren’t you with your mother?”
“She was kidnapped, Dad, by the same monster who killed you. He calls himself Magister, and he’s revived a clan that’s taken the name Bloodgraves. They struck a deal with the demons and infected the apprentice spellbinders with demonic magic. Then Magister wanted to kidnap me because, thanks to you, I have Demiderus blood in my veins, so I can approach the demonic objects that the dragons hid after their war with the demons. My friends and I managed to defeat him and free Mom at the same time. She’d been his prisoner for ten years! That’s about it. Oh, and my familiar is a pegasus. I also have a living stone who helps me when I need power. But she’s become a friend because she has a conscience. We came here to prove Cal was innocent. He’d been accused of killing Brandis in the vortex, but he isn’t responsible. The guilty one is the same person who’s tried to get rid of me several times. I’m not sure I’ve been very clear. Did you understand all that?”
The ghost looked as stunned as if a brick wall had just crashed down on his head.
“To be honest, no. Someone’s trying to kill you? And you have a familiar? But I made your grandmother swear that you would never be a wizard, to save you from this life on OtherWorld. Speaking of which . . . where are we?”
He looked around at the monstrous throne and the Judgment Hall.
“This looks like the high wizards’ description of Demonic Limbo.”
Master Chem stepped up, getting the ghost’s attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt this touching reunion, but we are, in fact, in Limbo. And now would be the perfect time to leave.”
The ghost’s eyes narrowed, and he stiffened (well, to the extent that a ghost can stiffen).
“Master Dragon Chemnashaovirodaintrachivu? Are you responsible for all this?”
The dragon smiled coldly. He and Danviou clearly didn’t like each other. “Actually, I’m not. Your daughter is perfectly capable of getting herself into worse trouble all by herself.”
Suddenly the Limbo Judge spoke, startling everyone: “Can you guess why I had your father come here, Tara? I read in your mind that you’re worried about your grandmother. I judge, of course, but my function is also to solve the problems of those who appear before me—if I can, that is. And this problem isn’t very complicated. It’s your move, young spellbinder.”
Tara understood. She turned to her father.
“I try not to practice magic, but magic doesn’t seem to agree. So, I wind up using it all the time. And the more I do, the closer I get to becoming a wizard. And if I become a wizard, it’ll kill Grandma, because of your blood oath. Do you understand?”
“I didn’t imagine for a moment that magic would take over your life, darling. I’m very sorry. I was trying to protect you from OtherWorld.”
“Well, it’s more like OtherWorld that needs to be protected from Tara,” grumbled the dragon. “She sweeps across the planet like a natural disaster. Anyway, we really have to leave now. Tell us quickly what Isabella has to do so you can free her from the oath?”
“You have to bring her here,” said the ghost. “In front of me. And I’ll release her.”
“Here? In Limbo?” Tara was alarmed. “Are you kidding?”
“The Judge is the only one who can bring the dead back more than once,” Chem answered for Danviou. “But coming back here with Isabella is out of the question. It’s even out of the question for us to come back at all. I think it’s time for you to say goodbye. We won’t be able to invoke your father’s spirit a second time without the help of the statue, Tara. I’m very sorry.”
If fact, Chem didn’t look sorry at all. Tara shot him a sharp glance, noticing a hint of satisfaction that the dragon was unable to hide. He didn’t want her talking with her father. But why?
Cal spoke up: “Er, I hate to bother you, but I can think of an approach that doesn’t involve risking our lives to come back to Limbo. I already died once this week and I’d like to not repeat the experience for the next hundred years or so.”
The ghost gave him a look of surprise. “And you are?”
“Caliban Dal Salan, the son of Aliana Dal Salan.”
“The master thief? Yes, I know her. My sister cursed her up and down the block when she managed to swipe the Sailibo parchments from us. What’s your plan?”
“We just steal the statue!”
The ghost gave a quizzical glance at the gigantic statue of the Judge.
“Are you serious?”
“Completely! I’m not saying I could manage it all by myself. And Master Chem has to save his energy to get us back to Lancovit. But Tara’s wicked powerful when she puts her mind to it. I’m sure she has enough magic to shrink that big chunk of masonry. Once it’s shrunk, I’ll slip it into my pocket and away we go!”
“I could even follow you without losing the link,” said Danviou. “An excellent idea, young thief—worthy of your famous mother! Go ahead Tara, give it a try.”
Tara sighed. She knew it would be up to her, sooner or later. And good grief, how big that thing was!
She raised her arms, mentally alerting the living stone. I’m going to need your help to shrink that statue. Not just in size but also in weight. Also, the less I use my own magic, the less I risk hurting my grandma. Okay?
Your father you found? Your family you completed? It’s for your grandmother help? My magic you take!
Aloud, Tara said, “By Miniaturus, shrink that statue judicious, to make our transfer expeditious.”
When the Limbo Judge felt the spell hitting him, he shouted loudly.
Alerted, the demons outside the hall sprang into action. Hoofs, feet, horns, and . . . other things could be heard pounding on the ground.
“Hurry up and keep shrinking the statue,” said Chem. “I’ll cast a spell to protect the hall. Everybody else, deal with any demons who manage to get through the barrier. And be careful; the ones who break through will be the most powerful.”
Fafnir was grumbling that she couldn’t do much without her faithful axe, so Robin promptly conjured one for her.
“Hmpf!” snorted the dwarf. “More of your stupid magic! And what if you faint or die? Your magic stops working and I’m without an axe.”
Robin shrugged. “As Cal says, I’ll try to avoid dying. And I have to create a bow for myself—”
He never got to add “—as well,” because Lillandril’s bow suddenly materialized in his hand. Followed by its quiver. Its arrows. And his arm guard.
The expression on the half-elf’s face was indescribable. Despite the fear knotting his gut, Fabrice burst out laughing.
“Holy smokes!” exclaimed Robin. “It found me!”
“Well, you can tell it I’m very happy it did,” said Cal. “Because I have a hunch we’re gonna need it.”
The screams of the demons who had slammed into the spell blocking the hole and sealing the wall confirmed his prediction. Fafnir readied her axe, Robin nocked an arrow, Fabrice and Cal cast a Destructus that they restrained with difficulty, Sparrow shape-shifted into the beast and popped her claws, and Manitou bared his fangs, ready to attack the first demon to get through.
Meanwhile, Chem had opened a Transfer Portal. On the way to Limbo, invoking the Demon King’s name had been enough to get them here. But for the trip back, because of the Demiderus protection spell, they had to create the equivalent of a portal that would redirect them to Lancovit.
Encouraged by her father, Tara struggled to keep shrinking the statue. She tried not to let herself be distracted from what she was doing, but it wasn’t easy. She was so happy. Within the space of a few weeks she had found first her mother, and now her father. Okay, Dad’s a ghost, she thought, but I can deal with that.
Fortunately for Tara’s personal survival, the magic continued to act while her thoughts wandered. The Judge twisted and moaned under the burning lash of the spell and continued to shrink.
When he was the size of a fat hamster, Tara interrupted the action. She scooped up the little statue and the taludi and quickly stuffed them into the dragon’s saddlebag.
And none too soon. Two demons, smarter or more powerful than the others, had managed to break through the dragon’s spell. Cal and Fabrice’s Destructus cut down the first one, but the second was fighting fiercely. He looked like a cross between a shark and a centipede, with a whole set of legs, claws, and teeth. One of them wounded Fabrice on the arm, so Sparrow snatched the young earthling out of the demon’s reach and shielded him with her body. Cal, who had been half knocked out by one of the legs, took revenge by paralyzing them one at a time, slowly but surely immobilizing the creature.
For her part, Fafnir was chopping off anything that stuck out of the demon. One of the Demon King’s bodyguards, who managed to push his head through the protective force field, screamed with rage to see his king unconscious, the portal activated, and the Judge gone.
On Tara’s signal, they all retreated toward the portal, fending off the attacks now coming from all sides as best they could.
“Go!” yelled Chem, as he shifted back into his wizard shape. “Quick!”
They all leaped through the Transfer Portal.
And found themselves in Lancovit.
With Master Chem in his underwear.
And one very surprised demon.
The demon felt a little lost at first. Caught up in the fighting, he hadn’t hesitated to follow the impostors through the portal. He now realized that he had been teleported to OtherWorld and was surrounded by a slew of Lancovit guards, all eager to chop him to bits.
He wisely dropped Fafnir, whom he had grabbed, raised his legs in the air, and quickly retracted his claws and fangs.
The furious dwarf very nearly lopped off another of those legs, but Chem stopped her. “That’s enough, Fafnir. He surrendered. Leave him alone.”
Then the old wizard noticed he was in his long johns.
“By my ancestors, this simply won’t do! By Fashionistus, silver and blue, enrobe me now and quickly too!”
Chem’s blue and silver spellbinder robe, which hadn’t traveled with him to Limbo, immediately materialized.
Fafnir was staring with dismay at the hole her scorpion tail had punched in her second pair of handsome, red leather pants.
“Stupid magic!” she raged. “Those pants cost me a fortune!”
“Guards!” roared the wizard.
“Yes, Master Chem?” answered one.
“Send for Shaman Night Bird. We have two wounded and a demon, and our beneficent magic doesn’t work very well on demons.”
“Very well, Master Chem.”
The guard ran off.
“You aren’t going to treat him, are you?” Fafnir thundered.
Chem turned to her in surprise. “Of course we are. Why wouldn’t we treat him?”
Fafnir was practically speechless. “But he attacked us!” she blurted.
“Well, not exactly. We entered Demon Limbo, we knocked out their king, and we kidnapped their judge. From their standpoint, we’re the ones who attacked them. All they did was defend themselves.”
The dwarf was silent. She’d hadn’t considered the situation from that point of view.
Something had been hovering under Tara’s nose, and when it caught her eye, she stared at it in panic.
She had shrunk the Judge. The problem was, she had also shrunk her father! Now the size of a mouse, Danviou’s ghost floated in front of his daughter, looking perplexed.
“Well, I’ll be . . .” he said in a tiny high-pitched voice. “What happened to me?”
“Dad, are you all right? Oh boy, I am so sorry. I didn’t expect this.”
“So, you’re the one who . . .” Then he understood. “I must say, your magic really is powerful. But don’t worry. As soon as the Judge is restored to his normal size, I will be too. At least I hope so.”
Deeply embarrassed, Tara smiled faintly and nodded. Her stupid power was running away with her again.
The Living Castle was delighted to have its favorite spellbinders home again, but didn’t quite know how to deal with the demon. So it projected a burning desert, to suit the prisoner’s centipede side, and a blue sea on the ceiling, for his shark side. The effect was pretty unnerving.
“Do you understand our language?” Chem asked the prisoner.
“Understand I,” he reluctantly answered.
“Don’t worry. We’re going to treat you, and then send you home.”
The demon raised what served as his head and asked hopefully: “You keep Judge?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” chuckled the wizard. “No more verdicts, no more sentences! Sorry, but no. For the stability of your kingdoms the Judge must be restored to his position. I will return him to your king.”
The demon shot him a look of hate, but obediently followed the guards to the infirmary.
Master Chem then turned to Fabrice, who was cradling his arm and grimacing. Robin’s Healus spell had dulled the pain, but the wound was deep. The demon’s spines were poisonous, and they had to immediately counter the effect of the venom, so they took Fabrice to the infirmary as well. The young earthling didn’t enjoy having a shark-headed centipede as a roommate.
The moment the friends rematerialized in Lancovit, Barune, Blondin, and Gallant immediately sensed their presence and came running. Barune was now giving Fabrice worried little taps with his trunk.
“It’s okay, Barune,” Fabrice reassured his mammoth. “It’s nothing; just a scratch.”
“
No, it isn’t,” said a deep voice behind him. “It’s a deep wound caused by a demon on an evil world,” Shaman Night Bird continued. “It will take time to heal.”
“Time?” Fabrice’s voice quavered. “How much time?”
“We’ll see. My remedies need time to work. And no visitors. You’re going to suffer, and it won’t be especially pleasant.”
Fabrice almost passed out.
“I’m . . . I’m going to suffer?” he stammered. “But—”
“You have to suffer if you want to get well. Drink this,” said the shaman, commanding a glass to float over to his patient. The bubbling mixture it contained seemed to be trying to escape from the glass.
Cal, who hated the infirmary, spoke up quickly: “Okay then, we’ll leave you to it. See you tomorrow.”
“Farm animal + difficult,” grumbled the patient, looking apprehensively at the roiling potion.
“What?” exclaimed Cal, who didn’t understand what he was saying.
“Cow + hard = coward!” translated Tara, giving Fabrice a sympathetic smile.
As they left, they heard a loud “Yuck!” behind them, confirming that the mixture’s taste perfectly matched its revolting appearance.
“Poor Fabrice,” said Sparrow with a grin. “Master Night Bird’s potions are known far and wide.”
“For their effectiveness?” asked Tara.
“That too, but mainly for their awful taste. I suspect our master healer of making them especially revolting to encourage people to get well as fast as possible.”
Tara smiled . . . and swore never to get sick on this crazy planet.
They had barely stepped out of the infirmary when a familiar voice made Manitou put his ears down, Master Chem back away, and Tara tremble. She turned around and said the only thing she could: “Grandma?”
CHAPTER 12
A ROYAL AUDIENCE
Tara’s grandmother wasn’t known for her sense of diplomacy. At court, it was said that her ancestors must have had dwarf blood, because like them, she tended to strike first and ask questions later.
Isabella gave a vigorous demonstration of this by yelling at Tara for a good ten minutes. “Ingrate!” was the kindest of all the words she used.
Tara Duncan and the Forbidden Book Page 21