Tara Duncan and the Forbidden Book by HRH Princess Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian Page B

with Miss Tara’tylanhnem Duncan. Should I let it in?”
    â€œSure,” said Tara, a little surprised.
    A red djinn floated into the living room. Ifrits don’t have legs, and the lower part of their body ends in a kind of whirlwind. This one bowed politely and in a strident voice said, “My imperial mistress requests your presence in her gold boudoir. I have been sent to take you there.”
    When Tara’s friends got to their feet, it added, “Alone.”
    â€œDon’t you want us to go with you?” asked Robin, ignoring the ifrit’s remark. “After all, there are Bloodgraves in the palace.”
    â€œThanks, but you don’t have to worry about me,” said a smiling Tara, who appreciated the half-elf’s courtesy but wanted to speak to the empress in private to plead Cal’s case. “I’m not going far. See you soon!”
    As she followed the ifrit down the palace hallways, Tara noticed that the light grew noticeably dimmer. The farther they went, the less busy the halls were, until they reached a dusty and vaguely gilded room that didn’t correspond at all to her notion of an imperial boudoir.
    The ifrit bowed again, said that someone would come for her soon, and left. Tara walked around the room. It was furnished with several large tapestries showing the exploits of Omoisian hunters, three chairs so delicate you’d be afraid they would collapse under you, a pair of purple velvet sofas, and a pretty table with an inlaid top and curved legs.
    The three chairs practically fought each other for the privilege when Tara decided to sit down. As she looked at them with mistrust, she suddenly caught her breath. She could feel the weight of an icy gaze on her, a feeling she knew well. A Bloodgrave was watching her! She spun around just in time to see a burning ray shooting toward her, and she dove to the floor, barely avoiding being hit.
    The table exploded and one of the tapestries caught fire. Tara stood and ran to hide behind a sofa. Her attacker was behind the door, and she could see two hands brandishing a ball of fire. Tara wished for a shield with all her might, and the living stone intervened without being asked. Their combined magic conjured a wall eight inches thick that abruptly hid her from view.
    Not exactly what I asked for, but it’ll do for now! Tara thought.
    Once over the initial surprise, Tara’s enemy gathered its power, which was unfortunately considerable.
    A fireball shattered part of the wall. Tara huddled to avoid flying debris and conjured enough water to put out the resulting blaze. But a second fireball was already shooting toward her, and she again had to dive to the floor. She absolutely had to come up with something stronger before the whole wall was demolished! She was thinking fast.
    Tara couldn’t see the Bloodgrave, but she could see a pair of hands when it launched its magic. During a lull she peeked cautiously through a crack in the wall. The hands were busy with another fireball, making it bigger. Perfect!
    Summoning her power, she fired an ice beam like the one she had used against the Throne of Silur.
    Maybe Tara had seen too many cartoons, because she imagined that when she fired her ray, the hands and the fireball would freeze, trapped in a sheath of ice.
    It didn’t work that way at all.
    When the ray hit the fireball, it merely fizzled out. The Bloodgrave cursed, but its hands were still free. Now furious, it cast a new spell, preparing to blast her. Tara trembled, aware that she couldn’t resist another attack.
    Suddenly she heard the sound of running feet, and the hands disappeared. Moments later, Lady Boudiou and Xandiar burst into the room, closely followed by a group of soldiers. When he saw the damage, the guard captain whipped out his four swords and posted men all around the room. Lady Boudiou rushed over to Tara, who could hardly believe she was still alive.
    â€œMy heavens!” cried