Royal Institute of Magic: The Shadowseeker (Book 2)

by Victor Kloss

  Ben thought quickly, trying to ignore the time crunch. In an ideal world, he would simply go up to the goblin, inform him that he had broken the law by leaving London, and order him back to the Institute. He was fairly confident that with his spells, he could deal with any retaliation from the goblin, though things would get more complicated if he made a scene. But if Ben went down that route, he would fail miserably in the Department of Diplomacy. That left only one option: he would have to try to talk the goblin into turning himself in.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, Ben walked casually over to the ice-cream stand, careful to avoid eye contact with Grignak. He stopped just yards from the goblin, but forced attention onto the list of ice-creams.

  “What can I get you?” the ice-cream man asked in a friendly voice.

  “I'll have the Orange Fruitie,” Ben said, going for the cheapest option out of habit.

  Ben ordered the lolly in part to create a relaxed, non-threatening atmosphere. Street goblins are suspicious by nature and, unless you handle them carefully, are likely to bolt. Ben had learned that by heart.

  Grignak had a long finger in the tub and was scraping up the last vestiges of ice-cream when Ben approached him. Though he looked calm, Ben's heart was thumping. Here we go.

  — Chapter Twenty-Five —

  Troublesome Street Goblins

  “Hello, Grignak,” Ben said, in a casual, almost friendly tone.

  Grignak looked up sharply, his finger stopping halfway to his mouth.

  “Who are you?” Grignak asked, in an unfriendly voice that was softened by the fact that his disguise was a boy yet to hit puberty.

  “My name is Ben Greenwood. I work for the Royal Institute of Magic.”

  Ben instantly regretted the words “Royal Institute of Magic”; they made Grignak flinch.

  “I ain't done nothing wrong,” Grignak said, glancing around nervously. Surely he wasn't preparing to bolt already? Ben tensed himself, just in case.

  “Nothing serious,” Ben agreed. Keep your voice mild. “However, as you are no doubt aware, you were supposed to stay in London.”

  “Says who?” Grignak challenged.

  Ben was prepared for Grignak's constant back-lashing, having read that street goblins had a penchant for it.

  “Say the laws of the Unseen Kingdoms, including Prith, your home country. You even signed such an agreement when you entered London, I believe.”

  Grignak had no immediate response to that. Instead, he threw his ice-cream in the bin, the little spoon missing and falling onto the floor.

  “Couldn't stay in London,” Grignak muttered. “Weren't safe no more.”

  “Why not?”

  “Work became dangerous; too much risk for Grignak.”

  Ben struggled to recall what Grignak did for work. It was all in the file, but he must have read that part a little too quickly.

  “If you were in danger, you should have contacted your Institute liaison officer,” Ben said.

  “Him?” Grignak said, spitting on the floor. “I did. He's useless. Didn't believe a word I said. Called me a liar.”

  “Why don't you try me?” Ben suggested. “I promise to listen to you fairly.”

  “Bit late for that now, innit?” Grignak said. “I've broken the law.”

  “Not necessarily,” Ben said. “If you can provide us with evidence of another crime, we may be able to waive yours.” Ben had no idea if this was true, and wished he had paid closer attention to the laws when studying Diplomacy. But the offer seemed to do the trick. Grignak became thoughtful.

  “I got nowhere to go if I went home,” Grignak said.

  “Your brother,” Ben said immediately, remembering Grignak's file again. “He would be happy to take you in.”

  “Hmm,” Grignak said.

  He was definitely thinking about it. Ben maintained a casual air, but inside he was praying the goblin took the bait. He didn't have many more cards to play.

  “What if I refuse your offer?” Grignak asked. “What if I choose to remain here?”

  “Then you will be arrested by the Institute,” Ben said, his calm momentarily giving way to frustration. “Either way, you will be returning to the Unseen Kingdoms, peacefully or otherwise.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Ben knew he had made a terrible mistake. Never threaten a street goblin during negotiations except when all else has failed.

  Grignak gave Ben a cruel smile, more reminiscent of a goblin than a human. “You think you can take me in by yourself? ’Cause I don't see any real Institute members around – know what I mean?”

  “Let's not get ahead of ourselves,” Ben said, desperately trying to backtrack.

  Too late. Grignak spat at his feet, then turned, and bolted.

  Ben cursed. He threw his ice-cream in the bin and gave chase.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Ben cursed himself repeatedly as he ran. One wrong move in the negotiations and he had blown it, all because he had become impatient. How was that going to affect his Diplomacy score? No time to worry about that now; he had to catch that goblin before things got any worse.

  Grignak was quick, but his legs were small, and Ben was able to slowly reel him in. The path wound through the centre of the park towards a cluster of trees, just big enough to constitute a small wood. If the goblin made it in there, Ben was in trouble. Street goblins, despite their name, were just as at home in the woods and could climb trees like monkeys. Straining his legs and lungs, Ben accelerated, until he was right on Grignak's heels. He took a running leap and tackled Grignak at the waist. They both hit the ground hard, rolling several times before coming to a painful halt on the tarmac.

  Grignak's arms snaked out and tried to encircle Ben's neck. Grignak was strong for his size, but Ben was almost a head taller and, though the boy kicked and bucked, Ben slowly pinned him down.

  “Stop moving!” Ben ordered. Grignak spat at him in response.

  Ben reached into his pocket in search of a spell.

  In that instance, Grignak's appearance suddenly melted. His form blurred and rippled; the clothes became tight as muscles formed, his skin turned green, and his face transformed into a teeth-gnashing, angry goblin. With a snarl, Grignak threw Ben and sent him sailing into the air. Ben managed to land smoothly and got quickly to his feet.

  “That feels better!” Grignak said, in a typically nasal goblin-like voice. He stood, arms and legs apart, looking a completely different proposition from the scrawny boy Ben had tracked down. Ben eyed the goblin warily, but before he could decide what to do, the goblin turned and fled again, heading into the woods.

  Ben was about to give chase when the sound of a cough and a strangled gasp came from his right. He turned, with a feeling of mounting dread. Just off the path were a couple of young boys with open mouths and expressions of such astonishment that they might have looked amusing in any other circumstance.

  “That was insane,” one of them said.

  “Beyond insane,” the other agreed. “How did that boy do that?”

  “You can get incredible costumes these days,” Ben said, giving them both a genuine smile. His hand went into his pocket and he extracted two spells, glad now that he had bought them. He threw one at each boy. They barely noticed, both still staring into the woods where the goblin had bolted. The moment the pellets hit them their eyes glazed over. They blinked, shook their heads, and then continued walking, as if the last minute's action had never happened. Ben took a quick look around, searching for anyone else who might have witnessed the scene, but thankfully there was nobody about. He tried not to think about what that little fiasco would do to his Warden score, and quickly discarded it from his mind.

  Ben approached the woods warily. There was no point rushing in now that he had lost sight of the goblin. Grignak would be waiting at a place of his choosing, and would see Ben coming no matter what.

  Sunlight filtered through the sparsely placed trees. The woods were alive with singing birds, flowers in bloom and leaves gent
ly swaying in the wind, creating an atmosphere in stark contrast to Ben's tautly wound body. He had one hand in his pouch while he scanned the tree tops, which he figured was the most likely place Grignak would hide. The deeper into the woods he went, the more concerned he became that Grignak might jump him from behind, and several times he did a full circle, but he saw no sign of the goblin.

  “I can smell your fear from here, Greenwood.”

  The voice came from above. There was a thump, and Grignak jumped down from the tree, landing dead ahead of him. He was smiling, if you could call it that, baring his sharp green teeth. In his right hand was a branch that Grignak had shaped into a club, complete with a large knotted head.

  “Nope, that's the roses,” Ben said, pointing to a bed of red flowers. “Nice, aren't they?”

  Grignak adjusted his grip on the wooden club and narrowed his green eyes to slits. Ben stood, legs apart, spell at the ready. His hand was shaking a little inside his pocket. Ben had faced several simulated combat scenarios, but this was his first real life experience. No amount of training could have prepared him for the sweat-inducing, heart-shaking adrenaline rush that he was going through now.

  Grignak charged with a roar. His speed and acceleration were frightening, but Ben was ready. He flung a spell into Grignak's chest. Grignak ducked, rolled, and then with incredible dexterity, continued running without losing momentum. An explosion came as the missed spell smashed into a tree, but Ben barely noticed it. He had another spell ready and threw it at Grignak, who was now so close Ben could smell him. He was too close to miss. The spell hit Grignak straight on the chest, stopping him in his tracks. Tendrils of ice started snaking round Grignak's body, creating a shell. Grignak roared with anger and the shell of ice cracked and shattered before it could fully form.

  These spells weren't strong enough, Ben realised.

  Grignak charged again. Ben played his last card. He threw another pellet at the goblin's face, and then jumped to the side to avoid the flailing club as it sailed past his head.

  Ben watched, heart in mouth. The energy-sapping spell should render its victim lethargic and as easy to manipulate as putty, according to the dwarf who sold it to him. Grignak did look visibly weaker; his shoulders sagged, his eyes became slightly droopy, and the club seemed a little looser in his hand. But he certainly didn't look like soft putty, and when his eyes re-focused, Ben saw plenty of determination left in there.

  Grignak lifted his club and started forwards.

  Ben pulled one of his few remaining pellets from his pouch, and squeezed it into the palm of his hand. A short sword materialised within his grip. As far as swords go, it was only marginally better than a stick of wood and would struggle to poke a hole through a piece of paper. But it was light, it was durable and, more importantly, it could take significant impact – perfect when faced with a goblin bearing a large wooden club.

  Grignak came forwards with a blow to the head, which Ben parried, the impact jarring his hands. He managed to keep hold of his sword and followed it up with another block, before narrowly dodging a strike that would have sucked the air from his lungs.

  Grignak came again, and Ben had to be at his most alert to place his sword in the right place to avoid his head getting pummelled. Again and again the goblin attacked, with Ben venturing only the occasional response. Though Ben was tempted to launch something more ambitious, Grignak was an experienced fighter and Ben was fairly certain any such move would end in disaster. Instead, he stuck to his initial strategy. With each attack Grignak made, he became that bit weaker, thanks to the effects of the energy-sapping spell. Soon Grignak was huffing and puffing, and was able to launch attacks only with a grimace of defiance.

  Ben waited until he was sure the timing was right. Grignak came forwards, barely able to lift his club. Ben parried it easily and then went on the attack, launching a series of lightning strikes. Grignak, despite being exhausted, managed to parry and dodge the first two, before being caught cleanly on the temple by the third. The goblin went down on his knees and dropped his club, though he continued to stare up at Ben with a look of defiance and hatred.

  Ben moved in and grabbed Grignak's wrists, meeting only weak resistance that he overcame easily. He put them behind the goblin's back and brought out another spell, which he pressed against the goblin's hands. Instantly handcuffs formed, chaining Grignak's wrists. Ben did the same with the goblin's ankles.

  Grignak tried to bite Ben's arm, and he had to take a quick step back. The goblin stood up slowly, and made a motion to attack again, but Ben saw the fight go out of him. He had done it! Ben wiped his brow, which was wet with sweat and blood. Elation swelled his chest, but he forced it down. It wasn't over yet.

  “I'm going to escort you back to the Institute,” Ben said. “Should you cooperate, I will do what I can to make your punishment as lenient as possible. Try to escape, and I'll make your life hell. Am I clear?”

  Grignak gave him another evil look, but nodded without argument.

  “Good. Now, change back into your human disguise,” Ben ordered.

  Grignak's appearance faded and transformed. Within moments, the ugly, rough-clothed boy was back, looking a little worse for wear, still chained by the spell.

  It was only when Ben marched Grignak through the village, back to the train station, that he realised how battered and bruised he felt. He was aching in all sorts of places; he was pretty sure he'd sprained his wrist, blocking Grignak's blows, and there were several mysterious patches of blood on his clothes. As quickly as he wanted to return to the Institute, he was almost glad when the still lethargic Grignak set a slow pace, for Ben doubted he could go much faster.

  They attracted one or two looks, mainly because of their weary state rather than anything else. Ben had double-checked with the dwarf salesman who had sold him the handcuff spell that they would be invisible to the human eye.

  Ben allowed Grignak to return to his natural goblin state when they reached the London Dragonway, and he proved no trouble on the journey back to Taecia. Ben checked his watch upon arrival. It was now 4:45pm, an hour and fifteen minutes before the exam's deadline. He noticed Grignak was sitting straighter, which meant the energy-sapping spell was finally wearing off. Ben focused as they stepped off the carriage and exited the station.

  “Remember what I said,” Ben said. “If you come peacefully, I'll do what I can to help. If not, it won't be pleasant.”

  “I've done that, haven't I?” Grignak said, with an accusing look.

  “Almost, yes,” Ben agreed, keeping his voice mild. He was careful not to show any weakness, but the truth was that if Grignak ran now, Ben wasn't sure if he'd have the energy to chase him.

  They marched slowly up the hill. Several times Ben thought he saw Grignak twitch and Ben had to resist the urge to reach out and grab him. The great walls surrounding the Institute came into view, and Ben's mind started drifting to the common room, a nice comfy chair and a cup of tea. He shook himself. Stay focused!

  They passed through the Institute's wall, and Ben put every last bit of energy focusing on Grignak, to make sure there were no last-second shenanigans. As he entered the front door he felt like a triathlon runner crossing the line, with a mixture of pure elation and utter exhaustion.

  “Seven hours twenty-seven minutes,” Dagmar said.

  Ben hadn't even noticed the Master of Apprentices standing there. She tapped her watch and then took Grignak from him.

  “You have completed the first grade exam,” Dagmar continued. “The examiners will meet tonight and your results shall be given a week from now.”

  Ben nodded, too tired to care about the results at the moment. He just wanted to lie down. But before he could head up the stairs to the common room, he realised he had forgotten about his best friend.

  “Any sign of Charlie?” Ben asked.

  “Not yet.”

  Ben knew that Dagmar would know exactly where Charlie was and how he was doing, thanks to the examiners, but the chances
of her sharing that information with him were beyond insignificant.

  “You made it!”

  Ben turned just in time to see Natalie running down the stairs. She flung her arms around him, and he almost collapsed.

  “Oh my, I'm sorry,” Natalie said, taking a step back, her hand going to her mouth. Her anxiety only increased the longer she looked at him. “Let's get you to the healing room.”

  Ben shook his head. “I want to wait for Charlie.”

  “Of course,” Natalie said, as if it should have occurred to her. “Well, at least let me get you a cup of tea.”

  “And one of those custard buns,” Ben said, with a tired smile.

  Ben positioned himself at the end of the bottom step on the grand staircase, cup of tea and bun in hand, with a good view of the front entrance. Natalie sat with him most of the time, but Ben didn't feel like talking; he barely had enough energy to use his vocal cords.

  Every ten minutes Ben checked his watch, and when 5:30pm came, that turned into every five. He noticed Dagmar, who had been waiting patiently by the entrance, was also now glancing at her watch. Was there a hint of concern in her expression? Ben hadn't thought about it much, and it only now occurred to him that she would want her apprentices to pass. If nothing else, her pride was at stake.

  “He's cutting it tight, isn't he?” Natalie said, giving Ben an anxious look. It was now 5:45pm.

  “He'll make it,” Ben said, not entirely sure where his optimism was coming from. “Charlie would never fail an exam.”

  But at 5:50pm Ben wasn't so sure. He stood up and started pacing the reception area, his eyes constantly flicking to the entrance. Come on, Charlie. Ben had never thought about the prospect of continuing at the Institute without his friend. Natalie was great, but Charlie was Charlie. They did the commute together; they went home together; they confided in each other about everything; and there was an inherent bond and trust that he simply did not have with anyone else, except his parents.