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

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The High Council (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 6) Page 21

by Victor Kloss


  Natalie started, and shifted to look past Ben, back the way they had come. “I don’t think we have a minute,” she said quickly, raising her spellshooter. An instant later, Ben yelped and ducked as she fired. The red bolt from her weapon soared past him, striking a dark elf who had just rounded the corner, sword drawn and hand already glowing purple with power.

  Another soldier emerged right behind that one, and Ben fired off a spell of his own, freezing that one in a block of solid ice. The startled soldier toppled to the side, careening into a third and knocking him down as well, but more were already starting to appear behind them, crowding down the narrow path in their rush to reach Ben and the other Guardians.

  Ben felt a wave of grief engulf him. Krobeg had fallen, and the dark elves were now free to attack again. The corridor was too narrow for them to come through more than a few at a time, but soon they’d fill the entire stretch from the door, and then they could simply overwhelm the Guardians by sheer force of numbers, and this time there was no silver-haired dwarf to save them. His grief turned to anger as he realised their argument had wasted valuable time.

  “Run!” Ben shouted, gesturing farther down the corridor. “Go! Dagmar, worry about the path later - we need to move now!” He fired again and again, using the sword to block physical attacks and his own body to shield his friends from magic. The protection his parents had placed upon him was still strong, and dark elf magic rebounded harmlessly, sometimes striking down another soldier. Even so, a moment of panic hit as it seemed there were already far too many of them, and Ben found himself retreating bit by bit. If he could just hold the soldiers off until the others reached an intersection of some sort, they might be able to escape deeper into the castle. Assuming more soldiers didn’t appear to box them in from the other side, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to last that long.

  Joshua forced his way through to stand next to Ben, using the shield to protect them both. The others were doing their part as well, spells lancing out from over Ben’s shoulder, taking out a soldier here and there or shattering their weapons. It helped, but the space was really only wide enough for the two of them.

  Ben parried a sword thrust, but one from the soldier beyond got through and nicked him in the shoulder. The blow wasn’t deadly. The dark elf was too far away to do much more than score Ben’s flesh with the tip of his blade, but it stung and Ben knew it was only the first wound.

  “Ben!” Natalie screamed. That soldier fell, a rose bush sprouting around him, and he cried out in pain as the thorns dug into his flesh, but immediately another dark elf took his place.

  Ben raised his sword once more. The cut on his shoulder was starting to throb, and he could feel the blood dripping from it. Another attack caught him on his hand as he blocked a thrust, and the blood made his grip slippery on the hilt of Elizabeth’s Sword. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this. But he had to try. Thrust, swipe, block, stab. He had holstered his spellshooter now and had both hands on the sword, arms aching and breath coming in ragged gasps. The enemy kept on coming, and all Ben had left was the sword and Joshua at his side, blocking what he could and shooting like mad. He knew it was only a matter of time before they were attacked from the other side of the tunnel. It was a miracle they hadn’t been already.

  Suddenly, he went to attack and the elves retreated a bit, leaving a gap. Had they somehow fought them off?

  The ground rumbled suddenly, followed by the crack of chain lighting forking into the cramped ranks of the dark elves. Ben stared. That had come from behind him. Behind them all.

  Another bolt struck, this one a gleaming gold. Then another, a searing crimson. More and more of the soldiers fell and after that first instant of surprise, Ben took full advantage of the unexpected aid. He rallied himself, striking down the soldiers who reached him while his unseen ally dealt with those behind, with Natalie and the others adding their firepower to the fight. Fewer and fewer dark elves faced him, and after another minute there were only three. Then two. Then none. The way back down the corridor was clear, save for two shadows that slowly pulled away from the walls and, as Ben watched, took on shape, colour and definition.

  It was a man and a woman, both tall and slender. She had elegant features and silvery hair swept up into a classic bun. He had darker hair and a rangier look, and a long, full cloak.

  Wren, the Institute’s Spellsword Director, gave them a grim smile. “Hello, Ben. I hope you don’t mind us dropping in?”

  He nodded, unable to think fast enough to reply properly, tired beyond anything he had experienced before. But it was the man with Wren who gave him a sinking feeling.

  Prince Robert, the Director of the Institute — and Queen Elizabeth’s direct descendant — stepped out of the shadows, his eyes heavily tinted with gold that glinted even in the dull light.

  The prince surveyed the now bedraggled group, the Guardians of Elizabeth’s Armour. There was no way he could miss what they were wearing, as the artefacts were obviously still giving off light.

  He seemed to take it all in at a glance, and Ben couldn’t help wondering what was going through the prince’s mind, having been obsessed with finding his ancestor’s legacy for himself.

  More than any of that, though, was a thought that looped through Ben’s tired mind over and over again: What are Wren and Prince Robert doing here? One thing was for sure: it wasn’t a coincidence.

  — Chapter Twenty-Eight —

  Friend or Foe?

  “Your Highness!” Dagmar blurted out, bowing, and the others all quickly followed suit. “Director,” she added, nodding respectfully towards Wren.

  Ben was a little too surprised to be so diplomatic. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “How did you find us?” Suddenly he remembered the strange feeling he had gotten the other night, and his eyes narrowed. “You’ve been following us, haven’t you?”

  Wren gave an immediate nod. “Yes, we have,” she admitted, her voice and face as calm and unflustered as ever. “Ever since the incident at the Institute, which I understand now, at least. You had a mission to complete, it seems.” She sighed, her expression sympathetic. She glanced at the pile of dark elf bodies littering the passageway, and then delicately lifted the hem of her long dress and stepped over and around them to approach, the prince following behind her.

  The minute the Spellsword Director was past all the bodies, Natalie rushed over. “Am I glad to see you!” she said, hugging Wren fiercely, and Wren returned the embrace, a warm smile creasing her face. “I thought we were done for!”

  “So did we,” Prince Robert agreed, frowning as he studied the fallen attackers behind him. Then he turned to Ben, his face and voice stern. “We have been following you ever since Wren picked up a powerful mental presence a week or so ago, a strong will combating a high lord of the dark elves. To our surprise it was coming from within the kingdoms that are already under Suktar’s domain. Suspecting a hidden ally, we followed the trail. We didn’t catch up until you were fighting your way into the castle.”

  He shook his head. “We saw your dwarven friend at the entrance. I have never seen anything like it, such courage and strength. Dwarves have always been a strong race, but I wouldn’t have believed it….”

  Wren moved away from Natalie to stand in front of Ben and next to the prince. “If only we’d arrived sooner, we could have helped, but the truth is we wouldn’t have been able to hold back that many. Truly it was the only way you would have made it this far.”

  Ben felt a strange mixture of pride, grief and relief. Krobeg’s sacrifice had not been in vain.

  The light was slowly dimming as the fires that had sprung from misplaced spells were dying out, and the glow of Elizabeth’s Armour was even more obvious in the gloom. The prince narrowed his eyes.

  He took a step towards Ben, his hand reaching out and then dropping back. “After all this time…” he whispered. The tone of his voice had changed and there was a slight quaver to it, a tremble almost.

 
Ben tensed, and looked across at Charlie, whose eyes were wide open. He tried mouthing something to Ben, but in the dim light it was hard to see.

  The prince turned slowly, taking in each of the Guardians. Joshua, staring the prince straight in the eye, the shield glowing lightly around the edges and more brightly in the round protrusion right in the middle. Dagmar, the boots a silver-bluish glow that lit her legs up to her waist. And lastly Abigail, the helm held by her side.

  “How can this be?” Robert asked. “I had heard… but no matter. You are here now, and you have my family’s armour. I have spent years….”

  Shaking his head in disbelief, he let out a dark, bitter chuckle.

  Ben was watching him closely, and with great concern. The prince had always had flecks of gold in his eyes, but now they were a lot more obvious, and even as Ben was standing there the gold seemed to be spreading.

  “It is as it should be,” Prince Robert declared. “We are here, united against this demon of the dark elves. Come, give me the armour. With it I will be powerful enough to defeat him once and for all!” He clenched his fists and leaned forwards, his eyes now almost glowing gold.

  Ben had to do something, and quick — this was getting out of hand. “Guardians,” he called out. “To me!”

  As a unit they moved together, Joshua at his side with the shield held out, Abigail next to Joshua, and Dagmar on her other side.

  The prince stepped back, a look of surprise on his face. He looked over at Wren, his face going ugly with anger. “Wren, is this how our apprentices are taught now? But I suppose it’s not a surprise with the Master of the Apprentices as one of them!”

  Wren had a small frown on her face, but she was looking at the prince, not the Guardians. “Sire, we came here to help them, remember? We came because we knew, both of us, that somehow here would be the key to this war.”

  The prince seemed to be struggling with himself. Anger warred with confusion, his eyes shifting between them.

  Ben could see that the energy from the armour was pulsing now, and seemed to be in alignment with the gold pulsing in the prince’s eyes.

  “We are on the same side, sire!”

  He looked again at Charlie, getting desperate. Charlie was slashing his hand across his neck over and over, indicating that Ben was doing something wrong and needed to stop at once. Finally, he pushed in front of Ben.

  “What my overly enthusiastic friend is trying to say, Your Highness, is that Queen Elizabeth, your great-great-great-great-grandma, intentionally left the pieces of armour to the families of these people you see here in order to protect it.” Charlie turned around and motioned to the Guardians. “From Suktar — and anyone else who tried to take it and use it for themselves.”

  The prince narrowed his eyes again, golden slits shining through like a cat’s. “Exactly! Protect it, until I can have it!”

  Charlie was bouncing on the balls of his feet now, nervously trying to calm the prince. “No, no, not at all. I do hate to have to correct His Royal Highness, but in actual fact one of the reasons Her Majesty did it was to ensure that no single person got all of the armour. It is much too powerful for a single person to use, and she was worried — worried about you, Your Highness.”

  The prince’s eyes dulled a bit, some brown coming through now. “How could she be worried about me?” he asked, shaking his head.

  Wren finally stepped forwards and put her hand on the prince’s arm. “This answers so many questions, my Prince. You told me yourself that you knew; you just felt that something wasn’t right.” Wren was studying Ben now. “This was the secret you could not tell me,” she guessed, her voice soft and her face slightly pained. “The secret your parents hid from me.”

  Ben nodded. “I’m sorry,” he told her, and meant it. “I wanted to tell you. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you, but Elizabeth made all of the Guardians promise not to reveal their secret to anyone, no matter what, and to pass that promise down through their families. That’s why my parents didn’t tell you, and why I couldn’t, either.” He had been tempted to several times. Wren had helped him so much, it just hadn’t felt right keeping anything from her, but he knew Her Majesty must have had a reason.

  The Spellsword Director nodded. “I understand,” she assured him calmly. She sighed. “I am sorry you had to carry this burden all alone.”

  Ben glanced around him — at Natalie, still standing with Wren but smiling at him, and Charlie, behind him, and Josh, Dagmar and Abigail.

  “Not alone,” he corrected, feeling a surge of pride and warmth. It was true. He had always had Charlie and Natalie with him, right from the beginning, and then the other Guardians as well. They had his back no matter what.

  But then his eyes slid back to the prince still standing before him, and that golden gaze fixed upon the sword in Ben’s hand. Now the truth was out, and they stood here with Elizabeth’s Armour in all its glory. What would Prince Robert do?

  He didn’t seem to know, himself. “It is mine by right,” he declared again, but he did not sound as convinced as he had before, and Ben thought he saw a hint of the prince’s normal eyes behind the golden glaze. Was he attempting to fight whatever strange obsession had overcome him?

  “Queen Elizabeth said that no one person could wear the armour and survive,” Ben continued from where Charlie had left off. “And that it would mess with the mind of anyone who tried. That was why she split it up; that and because she didn’t want Suktar to find it again. She thought it would be safer if each piece was left with someone different, and then those people could come together if it was needed again. It was given to the original directors of the Institute, and it has been passed down to the youngest in each family line ever since.”

  “I understand,” Prince Robert stated slowly, his jaw clenched, each word emerging as if forced. “And I appreciate your family’s dedication and loyalty. All of yours.”

  Sweat beaded the prince’s face, dripping down his forehead and cheeks.

  He started walking in small circles, talking almost to them but mostly to himself. “The first directors, yes. I can see the logic in that, and in the first prince’s diary he always seemed so… well, obsessed. I have felt that way, I have, but it just seems that I could do so much!” The last he directed at Ben, a hand reaching out almost in some sort of last hope.

  Ben shook his head, his voice remaining firm. “Queen Elizabeth charged the Guardians with using her armour against Suktar,” he replied. “That’s our task, the one that’s been passed down through our families all these years. We can’t just hand it over now.”

  The prince’s hands clenched, and then shifted to his spellshooter and his sword. “You must!” he insisted, his voice going slightly shrill, desperation now creeping in. “I need it!”

  “You don’t know how to use it,” Charlie countered, slipping into scholarly mode. “Ben and Josh and the others have trained for this. The armour has accepted them, and they’ve learned how to fight with it. You haven’t, and there isn’t time for you to learn, even if it would accept you.”

  Ben shot his best friend a grateful glance. “He’s right,” he agreed. “We have trained for this. And it definitely is not like firing a spellshooter. There’s no way to catch you up in time. This has to be done by the Guardians. It’s why we’re here.”

  Ben tensed, readying himself in case the situation suddenly went pear-shaped. He knew Wren wouldn’t aid the prince in attacking them, but he was equally certain that she wouldn’t fight him either. Ben hated to admit it, but he needed to be sure they could get past the prince if necessary, so they could continue the mission even if he tried to stop them. It was an extremely worrying thought. The prince was incredibly powerful and apparently one of the best Spellswords the Institute had ever had.

  Prince Robert opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was got interrupted as a beam of purple light lanced straight for him. The prince fired a shield spell at the last possible second, drawing his own sword and turning i
n the direction the attack had come, which was past and behind the Guardians. Ben had to twist around to see what was there, and when he did he tried not to groan.

  It was a small unit of Suktar’s soldiers, each of them bigger than most of the other dark elves they had seen thus far. As they came closer Ben noticed that two of them were Shadowseekers! The others seemed to exude some sort of purple glow, a short sword in either hand. They quickly fanned out to cut the Guardians off from fleeing farther into the castle.

  Ben turned to face them, the Guardians taking their positions without thought, Abigail donning the helm and Joshua raising his shield as he sidled up to Ben.

  It wouldn’t be easy, but they should be able to… Ben cursed under his breath. The soldiers were not alone.

  Striding in just behind the elite force but now pushing through to the front was a tall, muscular figure. His armour was more impressive than that of his guards, a magnificent purple cloak covered in glowing golden hieroglyphs was draped over his broad shoulders, and his long, silvery hair was swept back from a cruel but handsome face. Cold, cold eyes that glowed a vivid purple surveyed them, his thin lips turning up in a sneer as he studied the Guardians, the Spellsword Director, and finally the prince.

  “Well, well,” he declared, stepping into the centre of the corridor, his guards immediately flanking him. “Benjamin Greenwood. What a pleasure. I believe you have something that I want.” Next the dark elf’s eyes flicked to where Prince Robert was standing, and the sneer widened. “The valiant Prince Robert, what a lovely surprise.”

  “Prince Ictid,” the Director of the Institute replied, and the ice in his voice could have frozen the entire castle solid. “Still doing your master’s bidding, I see,” he said sharply, his own gaze narrowing as a smug little smile touched his lips. He raised his sword, and Ben was pleased to see that the gold in the prince’s eyes had faded back to a few speckles. Somehow the moment had passed, and Ben didn’t know which way it would have gone in the end if they hadn’t been so spectacularly interrupted.

 

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