by Victor Kloss
“We search out and destroy Suktar,” Dagmar said.
“We?”
“You will not be alone. But as the bearer of the sword, your job will be to strike the blow that ends his life.”
Ben ran a hand through his hair. “Great. So I have to kill him. What does everyone else do?”
“Each person will have a certain role, though I don't know what they are.”
“What is your role?” Ben asked.
Dagmar glanced down at her boots. “My job is to get us to Suktar. He will not be easy to find.”
Ben attempted to make sense of it all – his parents in some sort of underworld hell; finding Elizabeth's Armour; taking down Suktar. It was too much, even for him. Ben sat down on the floor. To his surprise, Dagmar sat down next to him, legs crossed, and George joined in, lying across the two of them, purring.
They sat there for some time, lost in their thoughts. Dagmar made no attempt to talk and Ben was content to let his mind drift for a while. Eventually, Ben started to relax and his mind cleared, bringing forth a new set of questions into view.
“You don't look like Charlotte,” Ben said.
There were some similarities, such as Dagmar's diminutive size and flawless pale skin, but Charlotte was slender and petite, whereas Dagmar most certainly wasn't.
“How do you know what Charlotte looked like?” Dagmar asked.
“I saw her in an old memory spell my parents left me.”
Ben expected his answer to prompt a dozen more questions from Dagmar, but she merely nodded, accepting his response as if it were perfectly reasonable.
“At some point down the family tree, one of Rowe's descendants married an Unseen. I have some dwarf blood in me,” Dagmar said.
“Oh right. Well, that makes more sense,” Ben said.
Dagmar stood up, pushing George off their laps. For a moment Ben thought his talk of her appearance might have caused offence, but her impassive face suggested otherwise.
“We should get going,” Dagmar said, glancing towards the tunnel. “I presume Mr. Hornberger and Ms. Dyer came with you but got stuck somewhere?”
Ben leapt up. “Oh my god. Charlie and Natalie! They must still be waiting for me.”
Together he and Dagmar began the journey back up the cavern. Dagmar proved a surprisingly able climber, despite her short, stocky build, and the two of them made good progress. The climb proved a welcome distraction, and both were content to limit the conversation to the climb.
It took less than half an hour before Ben recognised the thick black fog mist in the narrow tunnel that had foiled Charlie and Natalie. Ben found them sitting with their backs to the wall, talking quietly to each other. The looks on their faces when they saw him and Dagmar lightened Ben's mood.
“Ms. Borovich!” Natalie said, standing up, her hand covering her gaping mouth.
Charlie scratched his head. “How is this possible?”
Ben gave a tired smile. “I'll explain on the way up.”
The climb was arduous, but the time passed quickly, with Ben giving a blow-by-blow account of everything that had happened.
“I wonder what the dark elves will do now,” Charlie mused, as he looked for a hand grip.
“They will continue with their invasion plans,” Dagmar said. “But I also think they will double their effort to find Elizabeth's Armour.”
“Why, though?” Ben asked. He had reached the top of a large rock and was sitting down, waiting for the others. “If the Guardians are the only ones who can wield it properly, why doesn't he just kill us off? Surely that would be easier, knowing that the Armour is the only thing that threatens his immortality.”
“There will be a reason,” Dagmar said. “Suktar is a dark elf of incredible intelligence and cunning, as well as supreme power.”
They kept talking (except Dagmar, who just listened) for the rest of the journey until they reached the little door and crawled through, back into the outside world. They had to shield their eyes as they emerged from the small outbuilding, the sunlight a stark contrast to the perpetual gloom they had experienced for the last few hours.
“It’s 3:30pm,” Charlie said, glancing at his watch. “Not bad timing. I don't know about you guys, but I could murder some food.”
“I must get to work,” Dagmar said. “People will be asking about me.” She gave a nod to the three of them. “I will see you all Monday morning. Ben and Charlie, I will have your exam results then.”
Ben slapped his forehead. “I completely forgot about them.”
Dagmar raised an eyebrow. “Let's hope you have passed, otherwise you will have some difficulty fulfilling the task given to you by Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth I.”
Dagmar turned and left, her little legs striding so quickly it almost looked comical.
“Was she serious?” Ben asked, as he watched her go.
“She can't have been, though I didn't think she was capable of a joke.”
“She wasn't serious,” Natalie said, without a great deal of confidence. “Come on, let's go stuff our faces.”
— Chapter Thirty-One —
Unexpected Help
The weekend was possibly the slowest in history and Ben was genuinely concerned that Monday might not ever arrive. When he wasn't thinking of his parents, he was worrying over his exam results. Ben wasn't used to worrying, especially when it came to exams, but there was so much riding on this one. Surely Dagmar, a fellow Guardian, wouldn't stop him searching out the rest of Elizabeth's Armour? But knowing her, anything was possible.
To pass the time, Ben re-connected with some friends and spent most of the weekend playing football and video games. He was constantly texting Charlie, but their conversation was limited as Charlie was with his parents.
Sunday night seemed to contain a dozen extra hours, most of which Ben spent in bed, trying to get to sleep.
“Looks like you slept about as well as me,” Charlie said with a yawn, when they met on the way to the Institute the following morning. “I've lost count of the number of times I've gone over the exam in my head, thinking about all the things I did wrong. I just hope my Diplomacy and Scholar scores counter my pathetic Trade and Spellsword performances.”
“There's no point worrying about it now,” Ben said, “We'll find out soon enough.”
But Ben found it impossible to take his own advice and spent most of the journey evaluating and re-evaluating his own exam and trying to work out what his score might be.
It was business as usual at the Royal Institute of Magic. The ground floor was a hive of activity despite the early hour and as usual the lively atmosphere gave Ben a lift. Thankfully there was no indication that anyone knew what they had got up to last Friday.
“There's Draven,” Charlie whispered, as they approached the stairs. He came down the staircase and passed them by, glancing their way for a second, before continuing his conversation with another Warden. To a stranger it might have sounded like he was arguing something, but Ben knew that was his default tone of voice.
“Did you see that?” Charlie said, looking back as Draven strode out of the Institute. “I didn't like the way he looked at us. That's bad news. He must know our exam results. We've failed for sure.”
“Oh, put a sock in it,” Ben said, without malice. “Let's get to muster and get this over with. The suspense is killing me.”
Dagmar looked back to her old self, even down to the baton she held underneath her arm. The weariness had vanished and she stood with her back so straight it seemed to add a few valuable inches to her frame. She looked calm and unflustered, as if yesterday, or indeed the events of the last two weeks, had never happened. Her revitalised appearance did not go unnoticed by the apprentices, but Ben could understand why nobody saw fit to comment on it.
Muster proceeded with customary military speed. Ben, who normally listened to Dagmar's morning announcements with interest, found himself unable to concentrate and was relieved when Dagmar dismissed the apprentices for the morning.
“Mr. Greenwood, Mr. Hornberger,” Dagmar said. “Come with me, please.”
Ben and Charlie exchanged glances before following Dagmar, as she clomped her way down the hall, until they reached a door marked “Master of Apprentices”. Dagmar opened it and beckoned Ben and Charlie through.
Ben wasn't surprised to find Dagmar's office a modest, functional one. On her desk were baskets, neatly stacked with papers. There were several large shelves lining both sides of the wall, filled with books and files that Ben was fairly certain were perfectly organised. Dagmar's only concession to extravagance was a large portrait of a pretty woman with steely brown eyes, with the Royal Institute of Magic in the background.
“Charlotte Rowe,” Charlie whispered, glancing up at the portrait.
“That is correct,” Dagmar said. She stood in front of her desk, facing them, and showed no sign that she was going to sit down. Ben wasn't sure he had ever seen Dagmar sit on a chair.
“I have your exam results,” she said, with an abruptness that caught Ben off-guard. From her pocket she pulled out two small envelopes. She handed one to each of them. Ben took it, trying to read Dagmar's expression, but it was like trying to read a rock.
The envelope was written in flowing script and simply read “Ben Greenwood: Exam Results, First Grade”. Ben broke the elaborate seal with a shaky finger and pulled forth a small piece of paper. He read the contents.
Name: Ben Greenwood
Exam: First Grade
Department Results:
Diplomacy: D
Scholar: C
Spellsword: A
Trade: A
Warden: B
Overall: B (pass)
Ben grinned and pumped his fist in a manner normally reserved for a last-minute victory in football. Relief and joy swept through him and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
“I passed!” Charlie said, staring at his paper in genuine disbelief. “I can't believe it, I was sure I had failed.”
“Congratulations to you both,” Dagmar said. Ben thought he saw a flicker of a smile, but it was gone in a flash. “I expect you to put in extra time and effort on those departments where you scored poorly.”
“Of course,” Ben said.
“You are permitted a break of up to two weeks before starting the second grade, but should you turn up any later, you will not be starting at all.”
Dagmar's typically direct warning did little to quash Ben’s or Charlie's elation.
“Now, on to other matters.” Dagmar paused for a moment, her gaze going to the door, to make sure they were truly alone. “Elizabeth's Armour. Guardians. Your parents.” She paused again, and Ben had a feeling that for once she wasn't quite sure what to say. “As the youngest member of the Greenwood family, it is your duty to find the other Guardians and re-unite everyone, bringing Elizabeth's Armour back together. There are five pieces. The boots we have; the sword we must hope your parents have safely hidden. Beyond that, you have three pieces, and their guardians, to find. Not an easy task, especially for one so young.”
“I wouldn't say no to some help,” Ben said. His flippant remark would normally have received a stern look, but not this time.
“I wish I could. However, as you know, Queen Elizabeth was very specific in not involving the Institute, and with good reason. There are a few important members who might become corrupt with the knowledge of Elizabeth's Armour, and I am too closely connected to those people.”
“I understand,” Ben said.
“I'm not finished,” Dagmar said, raising an eyebrow. “While I cannot actively help you, that doesn't mean I can't provide advice and assistance. I have experience and resources within the Institute and the Unseen Kingdoms that you will need to have any chance of success.”
“Thank you,” Ben said. “What about my parents?”
“I suspect they will attempt to return from the void only once their bodies are safe,” Dagmar said.
“Which is slightly tricky, given that they're in Suktar's palace. When will they be safe in there?”
“Once we rescue them, which we will do when we find Suktar. To do that, we need to have all the Guardians with their pieces of the Armour.”
Ben's face creased with worry. “Will they survive in the void until then?”
“If it had been anyone other than your parents, I would have said no. But your father is an extremely resourceful man, and your mother is an exceptional Spellsword.”
Dagmar's reassurance alleviated his concern, but brought forth another, more immediate problem.
“What is your plan for locating the next piece of the Armour and its Guardian?” Dagmar asked, reading Ben's mind.
“I don't have one, yet,” Ben said, exchanging a look with Charlie. “But I will.”
“No doubt,” Dagmar said. “However, you may want to take this. I believe it will help.”
Dagmar held out a photo, which Ben took, full of curiosity. “What is it?”
“That is your lead to the next Guardian, entrusted with Elizabeth's Helm.”
“This?” Ben took another look at the photo. From anyone else Ben would have assumed this a joke, but not Dagmar.
“Let me see,” Charlie said, grabbing the photo. His eyes widened to saucers. “Oh, you've got to be kidding.”
“I do not kid, Mr. Hornberger,” Dagmar said.
“No, of course not, sorry.”
Ben took another look at the photo and smiled. This was going to be interesting.
A Message From the Author
Thank you for reading Royal Institute of Magic: The Shadowseeker - I hope you enjoyed it. I am busy working on book 3 which will come out later this year (2015). If you would like to stay in touch, please visit my website at www.royalinstituteofmagic.com.
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Regards,
- Victor
