The High Council (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 6)

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The High Council (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 6) Page 8

by Victor Kloss


  Anything to keep him from thinking about the upcoming confrontation with Suktar.

  On the third day of walking, as they were coming to the outer border of Borgone, a thought came to Ben and he moved back a bit to walk next to Abigail. Her blonde hair was damp with sweat and her breathing slightly laboured.

  “You alright?”

  After a few panted breaths she gave a weak smile. “Never been much of a walker myself, but I’ll be fine.”

  Ben nodded. In truth he was impressed with the slight girl. She was the youngest there and the smallest, but she never said a word of complaint. Pushing aside his last doubts, he continued.

  “I’ve been thinking, it would be very useful to know what’s happening with the war. Where the troops are; how they’re moving; all that would give us a better idea of Suktar’s state of mind. I know it’s a dangerous thing to ask, but are you able to, you know?” He waved his hands around his head and wiggled his eyebrows.

  Abigail gave a quiet laugh, then frowned. “It had crossed my mind, to be honest.” She continued walking, stepping over a few rocks and branches, a thoughtful look on her face. “It is quite a distance away and I would always run the risk of one of the dark elf royalty crossing their awareness with mine.” She nodded to herself, evidently coming to a decision. “But I agree, Ben, it would be worth it. I’ll try tonight when we stop and make camp.”

  *

  That night, when they had all settled down around a fire, Ben told the others what they had gone over. Dagmar nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, that would be very useful. Remember, Abigail, it is all about self-belief. You must believe they cannot see you and even the most powerful dark elf will pass you by.”

  Abigail nodded, her confidence increasing with these words. With a sigh she reached into her bag and pulled out a gleaming silver helmet. Abigail looked at it for some moments, its design plain but somehow beautiful, and took a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she tugged the magic helmet down over her head. After a pause she began to speak.

  “I’m heading back towards Taecia,” she reported, her voice taking on a faraway quality. “Everything there looks much the same: the Institute walls look solid; there are guards everywhere, of course, but I don’t see any signs of recent battles. A lot of the gryphons, Pegasi and wyverns we saw overhead are still circling up there.”

  “That’s good,” Dagmar almost whispered. “If the full war had begun, those forces would be wherever the fighting was thickest, rather than staying by the Institute.”

  Ben nodded. His heart was beating fast in his chest. He had asked this of her and he knew the danger it posed, but he also knew how important it was for them to know what was going on.

  “I’m going to take a look at Britain now,” Abigail stated, a furrow appearing along her brow as she concentrated on sending her mind in that direction. They all waited impatiently for the news, and Ben tried not to grit his teeth or curl his hands into fists. Finally she spoke again.

  “There are so many of them!” she said, with awe and some fear. “On both sides. The Institute is ringing the coast, but the dark elves — I can’t even see the end of their ships. And the dragons!”

  Dagmar leaned forwards intently, her hands gripping her knees hard. “Abigail, this is important — what flags are the ships flying?”

  Abigail nodded very slightly, and for a moment Ben wasn’t sure if she’d actually heard. Then her whole body went rigid, her shoulders shook, and suddenly she opened her eyes. But they weren’t her eyes.

  Eyes of pure purple stared out at them, looking left and right. Ben sat in shock, unable to move. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Joshua still sitting as well but shaking in fear.

  Abigail’s mouth moved, but her voice sounded strange. “Who are you? Who is the little spy? I have seen you before, have I not?”

  The tone of quiet menace filled Ben with terror, but he had to act. What had happened to Abigail? Forcing himself to move, he did the only thing he could think of. He launched himself at her and with a single heave pulled the helmet clean off.

  As it left her head Ben thought he heard a far-off voice declare, “I will find you, little spy. I will find you.”

  Ben tossed the helm aside and turned to Abigail, his hands going to her shoulders. The others rushed over, all in different states of fear and shock. He shook her slightly, a horrible feeling in his stomach.

  “Abigail?”

  She shuddered and shook her head, then opened her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I had to let him in to get close enough to find out. But I’m fine.”

  Ben sat back, his shock and fear turning to amazement. “You did that on purpose? I can’t believe it. You’ve got nerves of steel. That or you’re totally mad.” He shook his head, relief flooding through him.

  Dagmar put her hand on the girl’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “That was very brave of you, but it might not have worked.”

  Abigail looked away in her normal shy manner, but then looked back again, a bit of determination in her eyes. “I know, but Ben is right. We need to know what is happening if we are going to stand a chance, so I’m going to have to take these risks.”

  She looked at Ben and then the rest. “The flags on the ships — they were Suktar’s royal crest. A black crown on the blood red sea.” She turned to Dagmar. “What does it mean?”

  Dagmar let her hand drop. “I suspected as such. That is the royal guard. They are the elite force. That is bad news for the war, but good news for us as it means Suktar has committed his best troops and so the lands will be less guarded.”

  Ben took Abigail’s hands in his and looked into her eyes. “Abigail, please don’t take a risk like that again without fully going over it with me. This info is invaluable, but you are more so.”

  Abigail blushed and looked away. “Okay, Ben.” She turned back to him and removed his hands. “But I am one of the Guardians too, and I have a duty. I won’t let you all down.”

  “I know you won’t,” Ben assured her.

  And he did, too. Abigail had come a long way from the timid, bookish girl he’d first met. Back then she’d known nothing about magic or her legacy as a Guardian, but she had taken to all of it like a duck to water. It had helped that Dagmar had taken the girl under her wing, tutoring her on magic in general and how to handle the power of the helm in particular. Ben knew Abigail couldn’t have made such amazing progress without that help.

  “So they haven’t started yet,” Krobeg rumbled, pulling Ben’s attention back to the present. “That’s good. What’re they waiting for, do you think?”

  The way the dwarf was scowling through his beard and flexing his hands, Ben knew he wanted to be there when the fighting finally started. The big dwarf hadn’t been much for violence when they’d first met, being far more focused on cooking and running his tavern, but the breastplate had brought out his more combative tendencies.

  “I don’t know,” Ben replied, “but whatever it is, I hope it keeps up a little longer.” Every day the dark elves didn’t attack put them a day closer to Suktar, and hopefully ending this war before it really began. With that thought in mind he rose to his feet, tucking the rest of his food back away for later. “Time to get moving again,” he declared, and the rest of the Guardians quickly finished up and stood as well.

  It still felt strange to Ben that he could issue commands like that and have the others, even Dagmar and Krobeg, who were both far older than he was and far more experienced, follow without question. But that was the task of the Head Guardian, and he was learning to accept that.

  Ben and Joshua spent an hour or two each day practising with sword and shield, getting more and more used to the artefacts and to wielding them. After all, their battle with Suktar was going to be difficult enough as it was. Going into that fight without full control over their pieces of Elizabeth’s Armour would be tantamount to suicide.

  Several times during those days, Ben glanced up and quickly lo
oked around. He never saw anyone or any traces of other people, but he still had the strange feeling that they were being watched. The others all dismissed his concerns, but Ben knew better. Someone was out there, following them, either physically or through magic. He shuddered, and then stretched to hide it. No sense panicking everyone when he didn’t even know for certain what they were facing or how dangerous it might be. Instead they marched along at the steady pace Dagmar set for them, and Ben kept his eyes peeled in case some trouble hit them along the way. He jumped at every noise and every shadow, and by the third day he was almost too exhausted to care anymore. When Dagmar signalled for them to stop, Ben looked around. Everyone looked as tired as he felt. They were on the edge of a great forest, and directly ahead was a large sign nailed to a tree, facing towards them.

  As Ben crept closer, he saw that the sign read:

  Warning!

  You are now leaving Borgone.

  Continue at your own risk.

  That, Ben thought, more or less summed up this entire crazy mission they were on.

  But he also knew that, as they passed the sign and began trekking into the forest, there was no turning back.

  — Chapter Eleven —

  Sometimes You Have to Fight

  “It’s quiet,” Krobeg remarked.

  They had walked until it had become too dark to see where they were going, then had stopped for the night, camping out beside a small group of old boulders worn smooth by rain and wind and time. Dagmar had woken the rest of them at dawn and after a quick bite of food and a sip from their canteens they had resumed their trek. Ben wasn’t entirely sure what time it was now. The trees hid the sun from view, though its light still filtered through them. His grumbling stomach told him it was nearing noon. Now, however, he stopped contemplating lunch and thought instead about what the dwarf had just said.

  It was quiet. Too quiet. Birds flew overhead, their musical chirps floating down from high above, and from time to time they heard the scuttling of some other small animal, but beyond that, the faint rustling of leaves and their own footsteps and breath, he couldn’t hear anything. Anything at all.

  “Where is everyone?” he asked no one in particular, but Abigail glanced up from where she’d been watching the ground for any sign of roots or pits or other dangers.

  “I’ll find out,” she volunteered, tugging the helm from its bag and settling the artefact securely on her head.

  At once her eyes lost focus, staring right through Ben. He imagined that he could see her spirit leaving her body to roam the forest freely, but of course he couldn’t.

  After a few minutes she shuddered, blinked, and lifted the helm clear. “There’s a village maybe an hour’s walk ahead of us, right where the forest ends,” she reported. “But it’s empty.” She brushed a strand of her long blonde hair out of her face. “So is the one past it. And the one past that.”

  “It’s the war,” Dagmar pointed out calmly. “Suktar must have drafted every available dark elf for his army.” Something that could have been a faint smile creased her lips, though only for a second. “That’s good news. For us, at least. It means we’re likely to not have to deal with too many random threats along our way.”

  “So, what, we’re walking through an empty kingdom?” Joshua asked. He shook his head. “Somehow, I thought this journey would be a lot more difficult, and a lot more dangerous.”

  Ben could practically hear Charlie in his head. “Don’t say that!” his best friend would have warned, waving his pudgy hands about. “Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie? The second you say something’s easy, that’s when it gets impossibly hard!”

  Ben wasn’t entirely sure he agreed with that idea, but he also didn’t want to jinx them. “I think we’re fine for now,” he told Joshua instead, “but as we get closer to Erellia things will probably get worse. I can’t imagine Suktar would leave his own kingdom unprotected.” He shrugged. “We’ll worry about that when we get there, though. For now, I’m okay with things being easy for a change.”

  As it turned out, easy was exactly what they wound up getting. They reached the first empty village and ransacked it, scrounging up food to supplement their depleted supply and refilling their canteens at the village well. Then they moved on. The next village was much the same, as was the one after that. In some homes there was still food set out on the table, and in many the beds were unmade, clothing strewn on the floor, chairs knocked down and pottery shattered.

  “Guess they were in too much of a hurry to clean up,” Abigail remarked as they wandered around one of those homes.

  “They were,” Dagmar agreed, “but not by choice.” She pointed to the carpet, where there were clear impressions of various sets of feet. “I’d say they were pressed into service,” she explained. “Suktar doesn’t take no for an answer. He’d have sent his elite troops from door to door and forced them to surrender. Then he’d force them into his army. He probably separated families and used them as leverage against each other; do what you’re told or your husband or wife or father or mother or sibling dies.” She shrugged. “The people here were victims, not monsters.”

  Ben considered that. He was remembering the dark elf couple he had met once, not too long ago. They had been terrified when he’d shown up because they thought he was going to turn them over to the Institute, who would then ship them back to Suktar. It was the dark elf king they had truly been scared of. They had wanted nothing more than to live their lives in peace. Ben wondered where that couple was now, and hoped they had managed to find some sort of shelter from the oncoming storm.

  After all, it wasn’t their fault they’d been born dark elves.

  *

  A day later, Ben found himself wishing they were peeking out at another abandoned village.

  Instead they were standing in a small grove of trees, peering out from behind tree trunks at a solid wall some ten feet high. The massive front gates were open, and through them Ben could see a single large building, also constructed out of thick logs like the wall. Dark elves were posted on either side of the gate, and more walked the top of the wall. All of them were armed with swords and bows and wore chainmail.

  These soldiers didn’t look like they’d been forced into service. They all looked quite alert, and efficient, and ready to fight.

  “Why aren’t we just going some other direction, again?” Joshua asked, keeping his voice at a whisper so it wouldn’t travel across the open space between them and the fort. “There’s got to be another way.”

  Except that there wasn’t, not really. Not according to Dagmar.

  “We’re at the edge of this kingdom,” she explained. “We can’t walk anymore, and we don’t have the time or the luxury to take boats. We need to get across the ocean to Vemjella as quickly as possible.”

  “And to do that, we need griffins or pegasi or some other flying creature,” Abigail guessed.

  But Dagmar shook her head. “The winds here are treacherous,” the short Master of Apprentices warned. “Powerful enough to snap a griffin’s wing or send a Pegasus tumbling, broken, to the waves. No, we need something a great deal stronger.”

  Ben smiled. “You’re talking about wyverns, aren’t you?” he asked. The dragon-like creatures were long and sinuous and very, very fast. He’d had run-ins with the creatures before, and had a very healthy respect for them.

  Dagmar had still more good news. “No, not wyverns,” she replied. “They are fast enough, but they don’t have the range we need. Or the size. No, we’re going to have to go a bit… bigger.”

  Now all of them were staring at her.

  “Dragon,” Krobeg managed after a moment. “You want us to steal a dragon.”

  Some dark elves did indeed ride dragons, which were to wyverns like a powerful locomotive was to a simple pushcart or like a massive, amazing five-course dinner was to a slightly burnt hotdog on a stick. Dragons were incredibly intelligent and strong-willed.

  And now they were supposed to steal one?


  Dagmar nodded, then arched a brow. “Even a dragon may not be able to carry all of us at once,” she answered. “I think we must steal two.”

  Only Krobeg seemed unfazed by this pronouncement. “Right, two dragons, coming up,” the silver-haired dwarf declared.

  Their guide stopped him. “Not just any two dragons,” she warned softly, her eyes sharp. “We need water dragons for this journey. Any other type would get confused once over the endless water, and wouldn’t be able to find food to sustain itself on the flight.”

  Ben exchanged a glance with the others. “How are we supposed to know a water dragon from any other kind?” he asked.

  Abigail surprised him by answering. “You can’t mistake them,” she replied. “They’ve got silvery green scales like an ocean wave, and they’re long and lean with silver crests like a seahorse.”

  Dagmar nodded.

  “And you think they’ll have water dragons here?” Ben asked, looking out towards the fort again.

  “They will,” Dagmar replied. “They would need them for their own patrols.” She glanced down at her feet and the silvery boots. “That must be why the boots brought us here.”

  “Okay,” Ben said. “So we need to get into that fort, take out its soldiers, and then find two of these water dragons and convince them to carry us? Great.” He looked around at his friends. “Right,” he declared. “Me, Krobeg, and Joshua will deal with the soldiers. Dagmar, you and Abigail find those dragons.” He shook his head. “Just try not to take too long.”

  Ben figured the three of them would be able to hold the soldiers off while their two friends arranged rides, but that wouldn’t last forever — no matter how strong they were. It was still going to be just three against an entire fort.

 

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