Tara’s friends returned and were brought up to speed about what had just happened. To Tara’s great surprise, Master Dragosh didn’t try to hide anything, including the part about his bloodthirsty vampyress fiancée.
In turn, Robin and the others explained Lady Boudiou’s ruse. While they were chasing her, she apparently created a shadow self, hiding the hand wounded by Robin’s arrow. The trick worked, and they ran off in pursuit of the shadow.
Like Tara, the Lab felt bad about the fate facing the old woman.
Fafnir, on the other hand couldn’t care less. They’d finally gotten rid of the mysterious killer and she understood why her faithful axe hadn’t hurt the shadow they were chasing. She seemed relieved. The idea that her axe might have missed its target really bothered her.
The next day, Master Chem returned from his travels and learned about the events of the night before. It put him in a very bad mood.
A wanted poster for Selenba was broadcast on the crystal screens and plastered around Lancovit. Each time Tara saw the beautiful vampyress’s bloody gaze, she shivered.
The murder charge against Master Dragosh was dismissed, but Counselor Salatar was furious at the vampyr wizard for misleading him and slapped him with a heavy fine. Only the fact that Dragosh had helped destroy the Ravager saved him from being sent back to prison.
In the days that followed, Angelica and her parents were brought to trial for temporarily usurping the Lancovit throne. They were given relatively light sentences, because it was obvious that the Ravager had a powerful hold on the psyches of the people he possessed. They had to pay the kingdom a large immuta-credit fine, but got no jail time. Master Brandaud was demoted from high to simple wizard, and Angelica from senior to ordinary spellbinder (which she found outrageous).
The trial was broadcast by the crystalists, and Cal was incensed when he heard the verdicts. He knew that the Brandauds had been the Ravager’s accomplices, but didn’t have any way to prove it. Sparrow, however, wasn’t finished with Angelica. Each time she met the tall girl in a hallway, she would shift into the beast and start filing her claws. Angelica’s nerves finally snapped, and she left for a long rest somewhere in the countryside.
Fafnir returned to Hymlia. The Ravager had infected nearly the entire dwarf nation. Because Fafnir had saved OtherWorld by resisting him for five days, the dwarves unanimously decided to welcome her back into the tribe, even though she was still cursed with magic. This was unprecedented in dwarf history and became the talk of all OtherWorld. Nations sent their crystalists to cover the ceremony.
To general astonishment, Fafnir refused. She announced to the crystalists that since the position of senior spellbinder previously held by Angelica was vacant, she had decided to go work in Lancovit. Nowhere else in OtherWorld would she find a better place for fights, deadly perils, and plots of all sorts, she said.
When Tara heard the news, she practically died laughing. She knew perfectly well that the dwarf hadn’t given up on ridding herself of magic and that this was the only reason she’d refused her fellow dwarves’ offer.
Meanwhile, Tara was getting ready to leave Lancovit and return to Earth. She and her friends were in a room chatting quietly with the king and queen when Master Chem suddenly burst in. “Hello, Your Majesties! Ah, Tara, children—there you are! I was looking for you. I have a taludi for you.”
Tara shivered. The last message she’d received via taludi had been less than pleasant.
This time was different, however. The empress and emperor had officially requested their presence in Omois.
CHAPTER 21
HEIR TO THE EMPIRE
“Oh no!” cried Cal, rigid with alarm. “What have we done now?” It turned out that Empress Lisbeth’tylanhnem was merely inviting them to two celebrations: one to recognize their heroism and the other to celebrate Tara’s birthday.
Master Chem said he regrettably couldn’t accompany them—he had to deal with a lot of problems related to Lady Boudiou’s disappearance—but he gave them a large escort in his place.
When the young spellbinders rematerialized in the Omois Palace, they were received as special guests. The imperial guards snapped to attention, each with head held proudly up and his four fists over his heart. Two hundred heels clicked as one. Lady Kali, who’d been infected by the Ravager and still suffered from its aftereffects, thanked them at least a half-million times.
The kids were thrilled to be welcomed as heroes, and the feast given in their honor was so sumptuous that Cal nearly resigned from Lancovit to come live in Omois.
Two days later, the empress threw a birthday party for Tara. To their surprise, it wasn’t held in one of the palace’s vast reception halls, but in a charming salon that opened onto the interior garden, with about a hundred guests gathered around the empress and emperor. Tara loved roses, and the decoration theme for the room was rose, rose, and more rose. There were roses of every shape and color cascading down the walls, their scent dizzying.
As usual, Empress Lisbeth was nothing if not imperial. She was wearing a dress shaded from a pink so deep it was almost red, to one so pale it was almost white. She wore a simple crown of pink gold, and her long hair was colored to match her dress. The effect was stunning.
The smiling empress showed the young spellbinders to their seats, then sat down at their table, which greatly surprised the onlookers. Unruffled, Emperor Sandor did the same.
“I’m very happy that Tara is celebrating her thirteenth birthday in Omois,” said the empress clearly, “even though it’s a few days late. And frankly, I’ve had trouble choosing a present for my heir.”
The emperor stared at his half-sister in astonishment. He wasn’t alone. A dead silence settled on the happy crowd.
Tara’s heart skipped a beat. She then bravely looked up, directly at the empress. “How did you find out?”
“There’s a spy in your midst!” the empress innocently announced.
Tara could feel that the empress was testing her, so she kept calm, even though she felt like wringing her neck.
“A spy?”
“Yes, an unwitting one, I hasten to add,” said the empress, very pleased with the effect she was having. “A taludi!”
Sparrow suddenly understood and turned pale.
“The taludi! The one that recorded our summoning Brandis’s ghost in Limbo. When I put it down, it must have continued recording!”
“Exactly!” said Lisbeth gleefully. “I was curious to know how you managed to prove Caliban Dal Salan’s innocence, so I put the taludi on. By my ancestors, the Limbo Judgment Hall is a real horror! And that Judge! I’m very happy he’s staying there.”
“I’ll bet she is,” muttered Cal under his breath. “He’d have lots to say if he started rummaging around in her brain.”
“I was about to take the taludi off,” she continued, “when I saw another ghost appear. I didn’t recognize it right away, I have to admit, and when I did, it was a shock. It was the ghost of my dead brother Danviou!”
This was apparently just as great a shock for the emperor, whose eyes widened in astonishment. A murmur of surprise rose from the crowd. Danviou? The dead emperor?
“I had wished with all my heart that my brother was still alive, but without much hope,” the empress continued sadly. “And then I learned something new, something equally significant. When my brother spoke to Tara, he called her ‘My daughter’! That’s when I realized that a miracle had taken place. I had lost my brother, but he’d had time to have a child! A young girl who is a worthy descendent of Demiderus. Like our illustrious ancestor, she has just saved our universe for the second time!”
All eyes now turned to Tara, whose brain practically shut down under the pressure. What could she possibly say to this?
The emperor saved her the trouble.
“Lisbeth, that’s impossible!” he cried. “Danviou disappeared more than fourteen years ago. Are you saying he had a daughter? And that the daughter is the little Duncan girl? It’s grote
sque!”
“I don’t see why,” said the empress, thoughtfully looking Tara over. “She has the Demiderus white strand in her hair, I saw my brother’s ghost—”
Sandor cut her off. “Trickery and deceit! It’s too easy! Some stranger shows up, claims she’s the heir to the empire, and without further ado we roll out the purple carpet for her. I won’t be a party to such a masquerade!”
He was so angry, he’d turned bright red.
“I haven’t claimed anything at all,” Tara calmly pointed out. “And I never said I was the empire’s heir. Anyway, I’m going back to Earth to be with my family—my mother and my grandmother. You can keep your empire. I wouldn’t want it for all the gold in OtherWorld.”
Now the emperor felt offended.
“What do you mean, you don’t want it?” he spluttered. “You have no idea how lucky you are to be the heir of an empire as magnificent as ours. It’s an honor, it’s . . .”
Suddenly he realized what he was saying. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and scowled at Tara.
The empress repressed a little chuckle.
“I don’t need any more proof,” she decreed. “I know that this child is of my flesh. She’s the spitting image of Danviou. Look at that blond hair and those deep blue eyes. Tomorrow I will announce that the imperial heir has been found. And here is your present, darling.”
Ignoring Tara’s reticence, she put something in her hand. Everyone was very curious and leaned closer. Tara opened the small purple and gold package she’d been given. Inside was a ring. More specifically, a signet ring, exquisitely engraved with Omois’s emblem, the strutting hundred-eyed purple peacock. Without thinking, she slipped it onto her left pinky. The ring was too loose, and she was about to comment on this when it suddenly tightened itself to a perfect fit. Alarmed, Tara went to remove it, and the signet ring obediently slipped off.
“Turn it three times around your finger,” suggested the empress, with a sly glint in her sapphire eyes.
Tara put the ring back on and did so, somewhat cautiously. The ring had barely completed its third turn when an enormous purple ifrit appeared, making the courtiers jump.
“Greetings, mistress,” he said in a voice like thunder, bowing to Tara, “What is your desire?”
The girl gulped, feeling panicky.
“This is Meludenrifachiralivandir, one of our most valuable ifrits,” explained the empress. “He’s been in our family’s service since Demiderus. Now that you’re the crown princess, he’s exclusively yours to command. No one will be able to take the ring without your permission, and if somebody tries to cut off your finger, hand, or arm, Meludenrifachiralivandir will instantly appear.”
Tara nearly choked. Oh really? Before or after part of me is chopped off? She preferred not to ask the question. Just the thought that somebody might want to do such a thing made her feel sick.
“Er, what do I do to send him back into the ring?” Tara asked.
The huge ifrit looked at her as if she were talking Martian.
“I don’t live in that object,” he said in a pinched tone. “It’s merely the intermediary by which you summon me. My palace is in Limbo Circle Six.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry,” said Tara. “On Earth, genies live in lamps, rings, baskets, you know, stuff like that, so . . .”
Meeting the ifrit’s frankly scornful look, her voice trailed away.
“If these genies, as you call them, choose to live in weird places, that’s up to them,” he growled. “Personally, I much prefer a palace. So, my young mistress, what do you desire? Dresses, jewels, gold, exotic animals . . . ?”
As he spoke, each appeared before the stunned courtiers. The dresses were long, short, slit, straight, and flared, cut from muslin, velvet, silk, and brocade, and covered with silver or gold. The jewels were sumptuous: sapphires, emeralds, pink, white, blue, and red diamonds in bracelets, rings, tiaras, diadems, crowns, and sparkling brooches displaying animals, flowers, fruits, and insects. The animals included puppies just begging to be petted, a tiny pink and blue pegasus that was so adorable it set Gallant’s teeth on edge, and an affectionate little pocket panther. It was all dazzling, unbelievable, fantastical.
“The advantage is that none of this will disappear, because it wasn’t created by magic,” Lisbeth explained. “Everything is real. The fabrics are woven by Circle Six demonesses, and the rest is built or sculpted by the circle’s artisans. The only thing that Meludenrifachiralivandir can’t provide you with is food. Well, not without getting it from a regular kitchen, that is. Demons don’t cook.”
“I know, I saw that,” said Tara, her throat tightening at the memory. “But there’s something I don’t understand. I thought demons had to stay in Limbo.”
“We ifrits have a special status,” proudly explained Meludenrifachiralivandir. “We disagreed with our fellow demons when they invaded your planets. We felt that everybody was entitled to a place in the universe. So we fought on Demiderus’s side against our own kind. After the other demons were defeated, he thanked us by allowing us to come back to OtherWorld. At first, we didn’t do much. Then, because we were bored, we offered to lend a hand to the planet’s inhabitants and, in particular, those in Omois.”
Watching Tara’s confusion at being confronted with the growing pile of jewels and dresses, the empress felt an incipient case of the to the giggles. She firmly repressed it, not wanting to make fun of her newfound niece.
“You have worked with unusual speed, oh great Meludenrifachi-ralivandir,” she said in a friendly way. “We probably won’t want all of this for now. Tara must get accustomed to using the ring. Please say hello to your wife and children for me.”
The ifrit bowed to her, then to Tara, and made all the marvels disappear, which caused the female courtiers to sigh with regret. He then vanished with a distinct little plop!
At this, Cal felt a little envious. Not for the jewels or the dresses, which he didn’t care about, but for the incredible potential. “An ifrit! Ye gods! The things I could do with an accomplice like that!”
Sparrow nudged him in the ribs.
“Keep quiet,” she whispered, her eyes on Tara. “I think our friend may have a little surprise for the empress, as well.”
“Why?” asked Cal, taken aback. “Is it her birthday too?”
Sparrow gave him a dimpled smile, but didn’t answer.
Tara faced the sovereign, and in a firm voice said: “I claim my imperial favor!”
The empress, expecting Tara to thank her for her extravagant and unique present, sat back in her chair, looking distrustful.
“For what reason?” she asked levelly.
“I don’t want to be the empire’s crown princess,” said Tara in a tense silence. She took off the ring and held it out to the empress. “I want you to let me go back to Earth, to my mother and my family. I renounce this title.”
It took the courtiers some time to fully understand what they had just heard. Then all at once a unanimous cry of protest arose, causing a terrible din.
The empress took a deep breath, then nodded. She wasn’t surprised by Tara’s reaction. The girl hadn’t mentioned her imperial status, even though she’d clearly known about it for some time. The signet ring had only been a lure—the lure of absolute power represented by the ifrit. It hadn’t worked. Too bad.
“A present is a present,” she said. “I couldn’t take that ring back even if I wanted to. Keep it.”
Tara wanted to protest, but the empress stopped her. “Your adventures have often put you in danger. Meludenrifachiralivandir isn’t there only to create baubles. He might save your life someday. Don’t reject this gift.”
Reluctantly, Tara had to admit that the empress was right. And she swore she would never use the ring except in the most hopeless situation.
The empress spoke again: “Now, I’d like to ask you a favor in turn.”
“What?” asked Tara cautiously.
“I’d like to go to Earth with you and meet your
mother. That’s all.”
Tara looked at her suspiciously, but the young woman’s smooth face was unreadable.
She finally nodded. “If you really want to, I don’t see any reason why not.”
“Perfect!” said the empress, jumping to her feet. “Let’s go!”
“What, now?” asked the disconcerted emperor. “But we have to alert the guard, secure the area, inspect the—”
“Now!” interrupted the empress firmly. “I’ll just take Xandiar as my escort.”
A loud, anguished groan rose from the back of the room.
“That’s . . . that’s impossible, Your Imperial Majesty,” stammered the guard captain, who looked about to pass out. “I can’t guarantee your safety all by myself! Let me assemble a battalion, and we—”
“I am the Imperial Spellbinder and the Empress of Omois!” she snapped angrily. “I know how to defend myself. And I say we’re leaving immediately, with you as my only escort. Is that clear enough, Xandiar, or should I call the executioner to help unplug your ears?”
The guard captain gulped, then snapped to attention. Standing tall, he clicked his heels and put his four fists over his heart. “Perfectly clear, Your Imperial Majesty. At your orders!”
The emperor yawned, adjusted his breastplate, and tossed his long blond braid back.
“I don’t have anything special to do right now,” he said indifferently, “so if you don’t mind, I’ll accompany you as well, my dear. Two bodyguards don’t strike me as too many.”
The empress thanked him with an affectionate smile.
Manitou was feeling ill. His jaw dropped when the empress revealed Tara’s secret, and how his stomach was playing tricks on him. Do Labrador retrievers get ulcers? he wondered. Because all this business with Tara was sure to give him one. Reluctantly, he followed the little group toward the Transfer Portal. Manitou felt frightened. He didn’t know what he was afraid of, but he could feel fear crawling under his skin like some slimy animal.
Cal, who clearly shared his anxiety, waved his friends close and whispered: “I don’t think this expedition is such a good idea. Why do you think she wants to go to Earth?”
Tara Duncan and the Forbidden Book Page 38