Tara Duncan and the Forbidden Book (14 page)

The young woman received him in her amber boudoir. As he always did when he entered that incredible work of art, the guard captain felt large and clumsy. Except for the yellow marble floor, every square inch of the room was covered with carved amber. The artists had sculpted the butterflies, birds, fishes, and animals so lovingly that they seemed almost alive. Warm light from the walls made the empress's skin glow like that of a ripe, sun-kissed peach.

Xandiar was so overcome by the adoration he felt for the slender young woman that his throat tightened. Helmet under one of his arms, he knelt and waited respectfully.

Two ladies-in-waiting were brushing their sovereign's incredible hair, and she grimaced when the brushes snagged a tangle.

“By my ancestors,” she grumbled, “I'm going to have it all cut off one of these days!”

“But Your Imperial Majesty, you can't do a thing like that!” cried one of the pair, a beautiful, doe-eyed brunette. “Half the women in the empire would die to have hair like yours.”

“Exactly, and it's only because of their envious sighs that I keep this blasted mop,” said the empress as she looked at herself in the mirror. “But one of these days my impatience will be stronger than my vanity and
snip! snip!
Short hair and freedom!”

Waving her ladies-in-waiting aside, the empress turned to the kneeling guard captain. “While waiting for that day to come, tell me to what I owe your urgent presence at my morning
toilette,
Xandiar.”

The guard reddened. “The boy Caliban Dal Salan has mysteriously disappeared, Your Imperial Majesty.”

He tensed, prepared for the storm of anger that was sure to break over him.

Nothing happened.

Xandiar looked up and met Lisbeth'tylanhnem's oddly thoughtful gaze.

“Fine, fine,” she eventually said. “Is there anything else?”

He was dumbfounded. “The young spellbinder's friends were able to concoct a mysterious portion to put the guards to sleep and help him escape. I locked them up, and I'd like permission to use enhanced interrogation techniques to make them talk. We will be able to find the prisoner that way.”

Surely his news was catastrophic enough to make the empress furious this time. Xandiar cautiously closed his eyes.

But Lisbeth retained her Olympian calm. “Certainly not! Lancovit would never stand for children being tortured to get confessions. Release them.”

“What?”
The guard captain was so upset, he leaped to his feet, forgetting who he was speaking with. “But they knocked out half the palace! And the boy has—”

“Disappeared. Yes, I understand,” said the empress, who didn't like having her orders questioned.

With a sudden chuckle, she turned to her doe-eyed lady-in-waiting.

“Mariana, do you remember the time I thought I was in love with the Prince of Trond'or and cast a sleeping spell over the entire palace?”

“You were only twelve, Your Majesty,” said the girl, smiling at the memory, “but very powerful for your age. You didn't consider the fact that the prince himself would also be asleep.”

“Yes. Not very romantic, to open your heart to a young man who is snoring. And when I finally managed to wake Mother up, she was fit to be tied. It took the high wizards nearly a month awaken everybody.”

Empress Lisbeth'tylanhnem turned her attention back to the astonished officer, who was once again kneeling at her feet.

“So you see, these young people haven't done anything very serious. Leave them in peace.” Then she abruptly changed the subject. “I imagine you saw Barune. Is that boy, the Guardian's son, treating him well?”

Better than you treat me,
Xandiar almost answered bitterly. But he adopted a neutral tone. “It would seem so, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Well, he'd better. If that young fool hurts so much as a hair on my mammoth's head, he'll pay for it. You may withdraw, captain, and go about your duties.”

Xandiar hadn't risen to become captain of the imperial guard by being an idiot. The eldest son of a minor provincial nobleman, he knew that the Omois court was a swarming clutch of intrigues and plots—and that he may have just blundered into one of them.

So, it was with some indifference that he greeted the news awaiting him back at the prison.

The new prisoners had done the same thing as the old one, vanished into thin air.

Well, at least he knew one thing: The empress was sure to be happy to hear about this latest escape from her impregnable prison.

While the guard captain was gloomily contemplating his prison's few remaining occupied cells, Tara was crawling along on her elbows, feeling unpleasantly like an earthworm.

The four friends, their familiars, and Manitou had been trying to get some rest after Xandiar's exhausting attempts to extract a confession when the gnomes showed up. Warned by a mysterious sixth sense that something was trying to break into her cell, Tara smashed a chair, grabbed two of the legs, and got ready to fight for her life. One gnome only avoided being clobbered by a chair leg when he quickly hissed, “We are here on Caliban Dal Salan's behalf!” thus saving all their lives.

But when the gnomes explained the deal they had made with Cal, Tara got so angry, they all backed away from her. Even now, in the tunnel, they tried to keep as far from her as possible.

For their part, Fabrice and Barune hadn't been especially upset and were happy enough to follow the gnomes who had awakened them. Sparrow, still in beast shape, had nearly eaten two of them before she understood what was happening. And Robin initially looked with dismay at the two gnomes he'd knocked out before realizing that they weren't enemies. His feeling of guilt evaporated when he learned what the little blue creatures had done to Cal, and he contemptuously left the two wounded gnomes in their fellows' care. Awakened with a start, Manitou had promptly followed the gnomes and was threatening to bite them if they didn't lead him to Cal immediately.

The gnomes were terribly disappointed not to be able to take Angelica with them, but she wasn't in her cell—a fact Tara regretted not one bit.

The gnomes dug so quickly that their various escape routes soon merged. Before long, the friends found themselves in the main gallery, stiff and out of breath, but free.

Their reunion with Cal was tearful, but he laughed long and hard when he learned how they had been locked up and then freed by the gnomes.

“Lord, how I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall then,” he said, “just to see the look on Xandiar's face! His escape-proof prison leaks like a sieve!”

Having wiped away their tears of laughter, they settled down to discuss the situation.

“First thing we've got to do, is to get rid of those horrible t'sil eggs,” said Tara with a shudder.

“But we can't let that wizard get hold of
The Forbidden Book,”
Manitou objected. “That could endanger the entire balance of OtherWorld. Cal still has two more days before the t'sil hatch. I suggest we first make a little trip to Lancovit to retrieve the book and put it someplace safe where the gnomes won't find it. Then we'll try to deliver their wives and children.”

“If Magister really is behind all this, I can't confront him directly,” said Tara. “He's much too powerful. We were very lucky last time. We'll have to try and locate his hidden portal and plan an escape route when we know that lunatic is busy somewhere else.”

“Obviously, it would be disastrous if he captured you,” said Manitou. “So, are we all agreed? Lancovit and the book first, and the prisoners and the antidote next. What do you think of that plan, Cal?”

“Well, I'd like to say no,” the thief answered candidly, practically feeling his skin twitching, “but between the t'sil and the chance of a demon invasion, there really isn't much choice. So it's okay by me. The quicker we carry out the mission, the sooner I'll get the antidote.”

“I'm ready too,” said Robin. “Let's go fetch the book, then save Cal.”

“In the meantime,” Manitou continued, “our only problem is how to explain to our little blue friends why we have to make a stop at Lancovit before coming back to help them.”

“Are gnomes skilled at magic?” asked Fabrice, turning his attention from Barune for a moment.

“Not particularly,” answered Cal. “They use spells, but ones they've bought, not created. I haven't been able to adjust their shower, and their towels almost rubbed my skin off. Why do you ask?”

Fabrice explained: “If they're as ignorant as I am, they probably wouldn't know whether you needed magic tools to do your work, would they? And if the Truth Tellers can't read your mind, you can say anything at all. That you absolutely have to go to Lancovit to get your thief tools, say. And that without them you won't be able to find the hidden portal.”

“Fabrice, that's brilliant!” said Cal admiringly. “I only wish you could bring yourself to pay a little more attention once and a while.”

“The link with Barune is so strong, I can't always tell his feelings from mine,” said Fabrice, chewing on his lip. “He's having trouble getting used to being miniaturized. So, I'm sorry if I seem a little distracted these days.”

Cal rolled his eyes. “That's fine. If it makes you forget your awful riddles, you can be as distracted as you like.”

“I understand,” said Tara with a smile. “It was like that for me in the beginning too, being unable to be away from Gallant. You'll see—the link gradually gets less compelling with time.”

What do you mean, less compelling?
asked the pegasus mentally, who hated being away from Tara as much as ever. She soothed him, stroking the soft hairs between his ears. She realized that she hadn't paid Gallant much attention in the last few days.
All right, as soon as we're done with this new crisis, I'll spend a whole week petting and pampering you.

When Glul Buglul was told that his guests wanted to go to Lancovit, he objected. He was sure they were planning some trick to save Cal without making use of the antidote.

The little thief answered icily that he wasn't in the habit of working without his tools. He was the professional, he said, and if the gnome wanted to do the job instead of him, then he should just say so.

Tara almost took pity on poor Buglul until the latter demanded they leave a hostage behind. That made her angry enough to grind the gnome into hamburger, but Fabrice intervened.

“It's all right,” he said. “It won't take all of us to get Cal's tools. I'm not good for much right now, so why don't I stay here as a hostage with Barune? A fruit and vegetable diet is perfect for him. We'll just wait for you.”

Despite his offer, Tara knew that Fabrice regretted seeing them go. He had already missed out on their earlier adventures when Magister kidnapped him by mistake, and now it was happening again. That said, he did look so absorbed by the little mammoth that leaving him behind wasn't necessarily a bad idea. His being distracted in the middle of a raid could be a problem.

The gnomes' Transfer Portal wasn't far. Buglul offered them arachnes and spalenditals to ride there, but Tara preferred to restore Gallant to his normal size. She, Cal, and Robin flew on the pegasus behind Buglul, who had requisitioned a dragonfly. Sparrow ran along beside them in her beast shape with Sheeba, Manitou, and Blondin.

Once at the portal, Buglul again tried to pump them for information. “How long will it take to retrieve your tools, Apprentice Spellbinder Caliban Dal Salan?”

“Between two and twenty-six hours, depending on how many people are around. I'm still a fugitive, after all. I have to keep a low profile.”

The gnome nodded. “I understand. You still have enough time. The t'sil will not be active for another two and a half days.”

Cal shuddered and said nothing.

“Where will we arrive?” asked Robin prudently. “It probably wouldn't be a great idea to materialize right in front of the Living Castle guards.”

“No, of course not, and we thought of that,” said the gnome. “You will arrive at our Travia embassy. From there you will have to get to the castle on your own. We will be waiting for you here—and so will your friend.”

That is a threat that's hard to ignore,
thought Tara. But they really did plan to come back, so she had no reason to be anxious. Well, almost none.

The gnome opened the door to the Transfer Room, and the moment they stepped in, the five tapestries representing unicorns, spellbinders, fairies, giants, and elves began to glow, forming a shining halo around them. The gnome put the scepter in place and quickly stepped out. Sparrow cried “Lancovit embassy!” the rainbow touched the little group, and they were instantly transported.

A place where they landed put them face-to-face with rows of sharp, chitinous legs. The embassy Transfer Portal guards were enormous praying mantises, who watched impassively as the humans materialized. The mantises were an attractive light green and had huge, spiked forelegs. One of them, displaying the Smallcountry emblem of a bird and an arachne on its abdomen, waved them forward. Their throats tight, the friends filed past ranks of mantises whose large, multifaceted eyes gazed at them with interest. Sparrow held her breath until they were out of the Transfer Room.

A gnome was waiting for them.

“Welcome to our Travia embassy,” he said, bowing. “I am Bulul Bulbul, Smallcountry ambassador extraordinary plenipotentiary. Would you like us to escort you to the place where Apprentice Spellbinder Caliban Dal Salan has his tools?”

“No thanks, Your Excellency, that won't be necessary,” Cal said politely. “We'll meet you back here in a little while.”

“We are at your disposal at any time, day or night. Do not hesitate to rouse us. We have been instructed to assist you in any way we can.”

“Thanks, Excellency. We'll be sure to do that if it proves necessary.”