Tara Duncan and the Forbidden Book (35 page)

She batted her eyes at him, looking as angelic as she could.

The old wizard gave a snort of derisive laughter. “Tara, you really remind me of a dragon. I think your soul made a mistake when it incarnated in the body of a little girl. I know perfectly well that you want to stay because you're dying to know what happens to Fafnir. So don't try to fool me by playing innocent. Let's make a deal. You can stay two more days—”

“A week,” countered Tara, suddenly enjoying herself.

“Three days. I don't want Isabella skinning me alive,” grumbled the old wizard.

“Six days, and I'll be your apprentice again for two of those days. That way you can keep an eye on me, and I'll be under your mighty protection. You're a dragon! Who better to teach me to defend myself against my enemies? You're a lot more powerful than they are.”

Tara had put her finger on the wizard's weak spot. Out of vanity, he couldn't refuse to protect her. And having worked for Chem before, she knew how forgetful he was and how much help he needed to find his things.

Chem's eyes narrowed, making him look like a crafty old mandarin. “Hmm, your arguments are pretty compelling, but no: six days is too much. Four should be enough.”

“Five days, and I'll also straighten your office.”

“Done!” he said, shaking her hand. “You'll be my apprentice spellbinder for two days, plus you'll straighten my office. You're free today, but I want to see you tomorrow morning first thing.”

Tara's smile was so bright, it practically made Chem blink.

“Sir, yes, sir!” she snapped, clicking her heels like a perfect little soldier.

The old wizard walked off, laughing and shaking his head. That little spellbinder is as stubborn as a whole pack of mules!

Robin, Fabrice, gorgeous Cal, Sparrow, and Manitou had watched the exchange with great interest.

Sparrow ran over to give Tara a hug.

“Wow! Remind me never to argue with you!” she said.

Tara happily hugged her back. Then she stepped away, suddenly serious.

“Master Chem must still have some plan,” she said. “I've never seen him do something without a good reason. In fact, I actually argued with him because I felt that he wanted me to stay. I didn't know for how long, which is why I left that option open. But we know now that something's going to happen in the next five days, and that he wants me to be on OtherWorld for it.”

Fabrice was amazed. “What? You mean the two of you were playacting? Why?”

“I think Chem hasn't given up on catching Magister,” said Tara, who after Sparrow's rebuke had resolved to share her hunches with her friends. “He might be dangling me under the Bloodgrave Master's nose as bait. The question is, who's going to wind up on the hook, the fisher or the fish?”

A worried Robin shook his head. “We just barely survived Magister's attacks. I can't believe Master Chem would make you run such a risk a second time.”

“You might be right,” she admitted. “I guess I'm just a little suspicious of him. Anyway, we'll see.”

They had left the Transfer Room and were heading to the Great Hall when the sharp ringing of a bell was heard. A loud voice echoed through the hallways: “The trial of Master Safir Dragosh, vampyr, is about to begin!”

The crystal screens brightened, showing an image of the hearing room.

“C'mon!” said Sparrow. “Follow me!”

Barune wasn't able to run as fast as Sheeba and Blondin, so Fabrice levitated him, which he hated. The friends arrived out of breath just as the day's session was starting.

The vampyr hadn't changed, at least in appearance. He was still tall and sinister, and still had red eyes, black hair, and white fangs. But his shoulders were slumped despondently and his former arrogance had vanished.

Dragosh's eyes blazed momentarily when he saw Tara enter the hearing room, then he lapsed back into apathy. He had already confessed his crime, so the Truth Tellers weren't present. The hearing room was full, however, because the courtiers and spellbinders hadn't seen a trial like this in centuries.

Tara and her friends made their way as far to the front as they could.

King Bear and Queen Titania were presiding over the trial. The initial sessions had taken place in previous days. By the time the group arrived, First Counselor Salatar was questioning Dragosh. The vampyr answered in a dull, weary monotone.

“Yes, after shifting into wolf shape I grabbed Mr. Carlit by the shoulders,” he said in a flat voice. “That's why they found hairs on his clothes. I drank his blood and he died.”

The chimera looked doubtful—at least that was Tara's best guess at the expression on his lion face—but he was doing an effective job. It took him just half an hour to spin out the entire course of events. The vampyr hadn't eaten for days, he said, and he'd gone downtown and gotten drunk. He was starving, and when a warm human unfortunately crossed his path, he hadn't been able to resist.

“Master Dragosh is protecting someone,” Robin whispered to Tara. “It's obvious to me.”

“I suspect everyone thinks so too,” she said. “But who, and why?”

The sentence was clear. Since the death penalty had been abolished in Lancovit, Dragosh was sentenced to life in prison.

The vampyr didn't react when the sentence was pronounced. He followed his guards without complaint, closely watched by the crystalists and the public. People stood up, landed (those who were hovering), stretched or straightened, and left the court room exchanging excited comments. What a strange business this was!

Still looking unbearably handsome, Cal decided to go home to see his parents. He would come back to the castle later to warn Master Sardouin that he wouldn't be available for a few more days. As Lady Boudious's apprentice spellbinder, Sparrow went to let her know that she was back, and to also ask for a few extra vacation days to spend with Tara. Robin visited his father to talk over recent events, and in particular, the trial. As Master Chanfrein's apprentice, Fabrice was automatically free of any obligations, since his master had gone with Fafnir to the Swamps of Desolation.

Tara, who didn't need to ask anyone's permission, roamed the Living Castle with her mind working overtime. She was sure the dragon wizard was up to something, but what? And did it have anything to do with Master Dragosh's trial?

Flying ahead, Gallant attracted her attention and sent her a message: The weather was beautiful and they hadn't flown together in the longest time. What was she waiting for?

Tara didn't need to be asked twice. A few moments later, they were soaring, free as air, chasing the puffy little clouds scattered across the sky. It was a rush of boundless freedom to feel Gallant's powerful muscles working under his skin and see his white wings cut through the air. They frightened a herd of baaa grazing in a meadow and did loop-the-loops. Well, sort of. The first one was perfect, and it was during the second that things went wrong and Tara almost fell to the ground.

In other words, they had a long, wonderful time together, and Tara felt completely relaxed when she slipped off her pegasus's back. She rubbed him down and curried him, made sure he had everything he needed for the night, and settled him comfortably in the royal stables. Then she returned to the castle. Gallant was a little surprised not to be sleeping in her bedroom, but Tara wanted to be alone.

She told her friends the same thing. They weren't too happy about it, but she insisted. Feeling somewhat hurt, Sparrow went to sleep in her own room, Robin left with his father to see his mother in Selenda, and Cal, instead of staying in the apprentice spellbinders' dormitory, decided to sleep at home. (“With Toto?” asked Sparrow teasingly.) Manitou went to see some old friends and spent the night with them. They all ate dinner together, and then went their separate ways.

Tara took a quick shower, then got dressed again but without her shoes, so as not annoy the bed. The pillows immediately positioned themselves behind her back, and she waited.

It took a long time. In fact, she was half asleep when he arrived.

He seemed surprised to see that she was waiting for him. And his red eyes widened when she spoke to him calmly, or at least in a voice that quavered only slightly. “Hello, Master Dragosh. Or, good evening, I should say.”

He folded his long wings. The air trembled for a moment and the dark bat grew once again into the familiar shape of the vampyr.

“I expected to frighten you,” he announced.

Tara swallowed the “no such luck” on the tip of her tongue. She knew she didn't want to use sarcasm with a guy with teeth to put a German shepherd to shame.

“In fact, you don't even seem particularly surprised.”

“That's right, I'm not,” Tara answered calmly. “I asked my friends not to stay with me tonight, and you may have noticed that Gallant is in the stables. I wanted us to be alone.”

The vampyr stiffened, then bared his fangs in a threatening rictus. “How?”

Tara guessed that his laconic “How” really meant, “By my ancestors, how did your brilliant intelligence manage to weave together such random hints to know that I would escape from my prison with the sole aim of coming to see you? I'm astonished.” Or, something like that.

“You can shape-shift at will,” she remarked, “and without using magic, so you don't trip the spell detectors.”

“That's not quite true,” the vampyr said. “Knowing that I have that ability, they put a protective charm in place.”

“Obviously a really effective one,” snorted Tara. “I suspect that the prison that can hold you hasn't been built yet. When we ran into you in the alley the night of the murder, you looked at me and said, ‘This is all because of you!' I concluded you were still angry at me for some unknown reason and would enjoy coming here to tell me. What I didn't know was whether it would be tonight or tomorrow night. It's nice of you to come so soon; it spares me some sleepless nights.”

The vampyr suddenly looked terribly tired. He glanced at a chair, and it raced over to catch him as he sat down.

“Talking with you is like walking on quicksand,” Dragosh said with a sigh. “You know you're going to sink in at some point, but it's never when you expect. Very well. I've come to tell you that a . . . let's say ‘a thing' is after you. And that thing mustn't find you.”

Tara appreciated the heft of the phrase. A thing, then. “So?”

The vampyr rubbed his eyes. “So . . . I don't have to give an explanation to some girl of . . . whatever age you are. You just have to leave, that's all.”

“I'll be thirteen in a few days,” Tara said. She was starting to enjoy the vampyr's discomfort. She intended to keep him off balance to get as much information as she could. “And I'm not planning on going anywhere, at least not without a very good explanation.”

“Miss Duncan, I think I just put my finger on what irritates me the most about you,” he growled.

Tara looked at him in surprise.

“It's the fact that you aren't able to do anything without arguing. You always have to know the whys and the wherefores. You have to save your life, and you'll only do that by leaving here. Isn't that reason enough?”

Tara shrugged. “Master Dragosh, since discovering OtherWorld, my life has been like those nightmares that kids have when they've gone overboard on ice cream and horror movies, with their parents out, and they're all alone in a dark, gloomy house, on a stormy night. At this point, I find it a bit hard to be frightened.”

Dragosh hadn't completely lost his meager sense of humor. The corners of his lips lifted a tiny fraction. “It's true that a surprising number of people on the planet dislike you. Can I conclude that you're not going to pack your bags and return to Earth tonight?”

“That's right!” Tara exclaimed cheerfully. But she could tell that the vampyr felt sincerely upset, so she softened her tone. “I'm due to leave in a few days anyway, four to be exact. I'll be spending most of my time with Master Chem or with my friends. Does that make you feel better?”

The vampyr got to his feet. “In that case I'll be going, and I hope my warning will have been useful.”

Before he could shape-shift, Tara spoke: “Just one more thing. You don't like me. You're afraid that Magister will imprison me and use me to open Limbo and free the demons, who could then overrun the universe. You've made it clear that you're prepared to kill me with your own hands, or claws, or whatever, rather than let the demons get here. Yet, now you come in the middle of the night to tell me that I'm in danger and that I've got to run away. I don't understand you.”

“At least we have that in common, Miss Duncan.”

Great; now the vampyr was being funny. Sensing that it could be a long night, Tara sighed. “So?”

This time she was treated to a broad, toothy smile.

“The only thing I can be sure of,” Dragosh said somewhat sadistically, “is that you're going to ask yourself a lot of questions about my visit this evening and probably not sleep very well because of your insatiable, irrepressible, and dangerous curiosity. Whereas I plan to rest peacefully in my prison.”

“That's a very childish thing to say,” she said indignantly, crossing her arms. “And very small minded.”

“Yes, isn't it?” he agreed, looking pleased. “We get our compensations where we can.”

He bowed. “I hope to have the pleasure of not seeing you again, Miss Duncan.”

Tara could hardly believe her ears, but she recovered, and bowed in turn.

“Believe me, Master, the feeling is mutual.”

Elegantly, the vampyr had let her have the last word. He shifted into bat shape, opened the door quietly, and vanished down the hallway.

Tara ordered the castle not to open the door to anyone without her permission. Then she got undressed and slipped into bed, feeling troubled.