Tara's Wish

By Helen Baumander

On the seventh anniversary of her mother's death, Tara is given that chance to bring her back to life. It’s a dangerous journey to Yumaso Mountain to ask Lothum, King of Deinoma, to restore her mother's life. But Lothum has other plans. He has created an army he will use to take over Earth. Tara may have to choose between restoring her mother’s life and saving the human race.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Helen Baumander
• Release date: Jul 9, 2010

Book preview

Tara’s Wish

Helen Baumander

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 Helen Baumander

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Chapter One

Tara’s pencil scratched with such furious speed on her sketchpad that her movements appeared as if they couldn’t possibly be anything but random scribblings. But in fact they were very precise. She was sketching an image she had sketched so many times that there was no need to think about it. In the last seven years, she had lost count of the number of times she had drawn it. All she wanted was to get the image out of her head so it would stop haunting her. She sketched him over and over again, as if that could somehow magically transfer an image from her memory to the paper the way a rub-on tattoo transfers from paper to skin. Yet, no matter how much she hated the site of his face, no matter how many times she sketched him, the image was engraved further into her mind.

His name was Lothum, a tall skeletal figure with cheekbones so high that he was clearly not human. He hardly had a nose at all, little more than two small holes that passed for nostrils. A leather strap tied back his nearly white hair. Of all his features, though, his eyes were the worst. Staring into them was like staring into polished onyx. Each time Tara looked at them, she felt like he was trying to burn into her mind. She was certain that he wanted to steal her thoughts and make her his slave.

On the desk, she had a three-inch binder filled with hundreds of pictures she had drawn over the years. She also had sixteen more sketchbooks and pads overflowing with more. On rare occasions, when her mind was clear, she knew that she had to stop drawing pictures of Lothum and the world he came from. Every so often, she told herself that if she had nowhere to put them, she could stop drawing them. She hadn’t bought a new binder that wasn’t for school in over a year, and she had no intention of getting a new sketchbook when she finished the one she had. It had been a Christmas present, though, and her father could very well buy her one for her birthday.

Before she started high school, she would sit in her room for hours at a time, doing nothing but drawing pictures of Lothum. Until a few weeks ago, dozens of pictures had been posted all over her bedroom walls. She tore them down after she’d had the dreams. She dreamt about Lothum every night for two weeks straight. In each and every one, he called to her. She never wanted to see his face again, not even in a sketch. She would have burned the pictures if her father hadn’t come in time to stop her, afraid she would set fire to more than just the pictures. Still, there were moments when she couldn’t help but pull out her sketchpad. And the visions were getting worse all the time.

Tara sighed, closing the sketchpad and dropping it on her desk. She got up from her chair and went to the bookshelf. There were a few non-fiction books that her father had bought to help her with school, like the Canadian history books, and science books that had as much space on the pages for pictures as they did words. All the others were about places and people not of this world, the world that Tara had grown up in for the last fourteen years. Some of them were about places that everyone knew of, like Avalon. Most of them, though, were of a place that very few people had heard of, Deinoma, the world that Lothum had ruled for over a hundred years, the world that had been tormenting her since her mother died seven years ago.

Why do I keep buying these books? she asked herself, pulling one of them off the shelf. So many people said these books were unrealistic, a waste of time, but she new better. She saw the truth of the world that was hidden in fantasy. The title of the book was Lothum. Her mother had collected books about Deinoma since she had her own money to buy books. It was only natural that when she died, the books would belong to Tara.

She took the book to her bed and opened it to read. Only her mother’s memory kept her from throwing all the books away and burning them like she had tried to burn her pictures. She tried, though, every single time she saw Lothum’s face, knowing he wanted to get into her mind and control her. But how could she even think about getting rid of them? She and her mother had read these books together. Now it was how she kept her mother alive, how she connected to her when she felt alone.

On the cover of the book, Lothum was standing in front of a window in a stone castle. The window was the only place a Deinoman could break through the barrier between Deinoma and Earth. It was how Lothum watched Tara and other humans he tormented. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was watching her right now. She could feel him creeping into her mind, trying to read her thoughts.

As she read, sharp pains traveled from the back of her head to her eyes. That was how the visions always started. Pain, then she saw his face. His onyx eyes burned into her. Sometimes she could even hear him. She had never known a voice to be more deceptive than his. When you first hear it, it sounds so kind and noble. Then it becomes grim and harsh, like the White Witch trying to lure Edmond to her. You know he wants something from you that you aren’t prepared to give, except she didn’t even know why.

The vision was just a flash this time, but the pain would be unbearable to anyone who wasn’t used to feeling it all the time. Tara hardly ever fainted just from the pain anymore, like she had four years ago when she had her first vision. This time, she hardly flinched. What she did do was get up to get a glass of water so she could take her medication.

Everyone around her was so convinced that the visions were just some insanity brought on because she never accepted her mother’s death. As a result, she had all kinds of pills she was forced to take. Two were for headaches, regular non-prescription stuff and a stronger, prescription pain medication. The third was an anti-depressant. Her father didn’t like the idea of her taking them, but trusted the doctors who said that it was one that was safe for teenagers. Then there were the sleeping pills. She only needed those occasionally, after brief visions.

Until two years ago, trying to keep Lothum out of her head caused seizures. Yet another pill she didn’t need. Finally, she had the latest in a long line of medicines that were supposed to stop the visions. They didn’t work. No matter how many times the doctors changed the, they couldn’t find one that worked. They never would. You can’t cure something from inside the body when it is being attacked from the outside.

Tara took one of the prescription painkillers, the seizure medication, and one of the ones that didn’t work.

She kept the glass on her dresser just in case she needed to take a sleeping pill. Sometimes, if she woke up after a dream about Lothum, she couldn’t get back to sleep on her own. Her father probably believed she was already asleep. She had started drawing right after she told him that she was going to bed. She had to be quiet now because her father worried when she wasn’t sleeping enough. If there was one thing she wanted, it was to keep him from worrying about her. He had already seen one person he loved waste away from an illness he didn’t understand. She wasn’t going to let make him go through that again if she could help it.

Before she got into bed, Tara returned the book to the shelf, the exact same place she always had it. All the Deinoma books were shelved in exact chronological order. Each spine had been creased to the point that the titles were almost unreadable from being handled too many times. She had hardly ever read any others, unless they were for school. Other books simply did not hold her attention, did not have the same magic. Why read a book if it won’t mean anything to you? Deinoma books mattered because her mother loved them. Her mother was gone, had been for seven years, so the books were all she had. Well, it had almost been seven years. The seventh anniversary was three weeks away.

Tara got into bed, relieved that she only had one more day of school before the weekend. They also only had classes until one thirty because of staff meetings in the afternoon. That was the only thing she really liked about high school, half-days. She and her friend, Jessica, were going to a movie and to buy more books for their English presentations. As she drifted off to sleep, she prayed Lothum would stay away from her dreams.

* * * *

Come on, Tara, Jessica said, arms crossed and leaning against the bookshelf. Will you hurry up and pick one? With all the work we have to do, there’s no way you can get everything done if you don’t start reading it today.

I know, I know, Tara said through clenched teeth. She crouched down and balanced on her toes, scanning the bottom shelves of the Fantasy section. I just want to be sure it’s something I’ll like. Yesterday I finished reading that stupid romance novel, the one that Mrs. Wong gave me. It’s even less believable than the ones I usually read.

Hey, I read that book long before Mrs. Wong said we should read it. I liked it.

Tara smirked at Jessica. Yeah, you would, but you have no taste. You liked the one that was written by a sixteen-year-old.

Jessica shrugged. "It wasn’t that bad. Can you honestly say you’ll be able to do better two years from now? Now let’s hurry up. The movie starts