The Protectors (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 3)

by Victor Kloss

  The moment he finished, both Natalie and Charlie started speaking at once.

  “That is utter nonsense,” Charlie said with feeling.

  Natalie’s voice was gentler, and she placed a consoling hand on Ben’s shoulder. “We know how much Joshua dislikes you. I’m sure this is just another one of his devious, revolting schemes to make you feel bad.”

  Ben shook his head. “No, this was different. There was no sarcasm. I believe Joshua was telling the truth.”

  “What he thought was the truth,” Charlie corrected.

  Charlie’s intensity gave Ben some comfort.

  “I’d like to think that, but Joshua was there when it happened.”

  “How long ago was it?” Natalie said. “If he was a child, he could easily have misinterpreted events.”

  “How do you misinterpret someone being killed?”

  That made Natalie hesitate, but Charlie slapped a hand on his lap. He looked angry. “Ben, remember what happened when your parents were accused of treason? We decided to trust them, regardless of the rumours and stories that were going round. We trusted them because we know they are good people.”

  Ben wiped his ruffled hair from his forehead, and sighed. “I know that. I’m just confused. I don’t know what to think.”

  “That’s because we don’t have the facts,” Natalie said. “But we can get them.”

  “How?”

  “Simple. We ask Arnold.”

  Ben clenched his fists. Frustration was starting to eat away at his self-pity, fuelling his body with sudden energy. “He’s not easy to get hold of. And even if I found him, I’m not sure how much he would tell.”

  “What about Wren then?” Charlie suggested. “I bet she knows something.”

  “Possibly,” Ben admitted. The more he thought about it, the more he realised Charlie was right. Wren was very close to his parents, and something like this couldn’t just be hidden from everyone – could it?

  Ben sprung up with a gleam in his eye. “I’m going to speak to Wren.”

  “Do you want us to come with?” Natalie asked.

  Ben was already walking. “No, thank you. This is something I need to do by myself.”

  “We’ll be waiting for you here!” Charlie shouted.

  Ben strode back into the Institute and ran up the stairs. He felt a little dizzy, and had to grab the bannister on more than one occasion. It was hard enough worrying whether his parents were alive, but to have this accusation of murder thrown on top was just too much.

  Tracking down Wren was going to be the hard part. Half the time she was out; the other half, she was in meetings. But he figured he was due some luck.

  He entered the Spellsword floor, eyes peeled. He planned to try every single room in the department; someone must know where she was.

  He needn’t have bothered. He smiled the moment he saw her office door. It was being guarded by a Spellsword with two green diamonds hovering over his shoulder. That could mean only one thing: she was inside, and didn’t want to be disturbed.

  Ben marched up to the guard. His eyes shifted nervously towards Ben, needlessly adjusting his posture.

  “I need to speak to the director,” Ben said without preamble.

  The guard shook his head. “She is in a meeting and cannot be disturbed.”

  “I don’t care if she’s having tea with Suktar. I need to see her.”

  The guard blinked, and looked at the floor as he spoke. “No one is allowed in. She was very clear about that.”

  They must truly be short on Spellswords for someone like this to guard Wren’s door, Ben thought. Ben’s patience was running thin. He drew his spellshooter and pointed it inches from the guard’s face.

  “Step aside, now,” Ben said, with all the intensity and force he could muster.

  The guard’s arms flung to the air and he was moving even before Ben had finished speaking, a look of horror on his face.

  “Appreciate it,” Ben said, with a little nod.

  The adrenaline that had fuelled his determination melted as he opened the door. Wren might be wonderfully laid back, but she was still a director, and he was still barging in when she had demanded privacy.

  “Who is it?” Wren said. She looked up, with a hint of frustration, something Ben had never witnessed with Wren. It disappeared the moment she spotted him.

  “Oh, hello, Ben. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Wren rose from her desk at the back of the room and glided towards him. Ben had heard reports that the directors had been working twenty hours a day, but Wren showed no sign of it. Her ageless face, kind, grey eyes and long, silvery hair piled elegantly on her head looked as perfect as always.

  “I’m sorry to intrude, but I need some help,” Ben said.

  “Of course. Please, take a seat,” Wren said, waving to the couch and chairs that surrounded a small coffee table. “How can I help?” Wren asked, placing her hands in her lap and watching him patiently.

  Ben didn’t know how to start. Every time he recalled the conversation, a range of emotions threatened to spill out of him. In the end, he took a deep breath, and recounted the entire event, from start to finish. The only reaction Ben saw from Wren was near the end, when her hands clenched her dress.

  “How much of what Joshua said was true?” Ben asked. He didn’t want to sound pleading, but it was difficult.

  “That horrible incident happened ten years ago,” Wren said softly. “Joshua was just six years old, so you must understand his perspective. He saw your father enter the house. He saw his uncle die at the hands of your father.”

  “So my father did kill him?” Ben asked.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Wren said. “There are no witnesses of the incident, so it is tricky.”

  “Other than Joshua.”

  “Yes, other than Joshua. He saw his uncle, Barry Leedwig, fight your father and lose. There were wounds on both Greg and Barry. Furthermore, it was found that Barry was intoxicated at the time of the fight. So when Greg said he had killed Barry in self-defence, we believed him.”

  “But why was he there in the first place?”

  “We cannot be totally certain. Greg claims that Barry was trying to woo your mother, and Greg went over there to tell him to stop.”

  Ben frowned. “Joshua said the affection was mutual.”

  “I know,” Wren said, nodding. “I don’t know where he got that information from, but Greg and Jane were very clear that was not the case.”

  Ben ran a hand through his hair. Something didn’t feel right. “So this whole thing was one horrible mistake?”

  “Yes and no,” Wren said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Arnold, Barry, Greg and Jane were close friends many years ago,” Wren said. “Despite being from different departments, they often worked together, and many thought they would end up as directors at some stage. But a week before Barry’s death, there was a falling-out between him and the other three. I remember asking Greg about it, but he was vague and just said Barry was going through a rough time. I didn’t think much of it until the clash between Greg and Barry a week later.”

  “So you think something was going on between them?”

  “Well, we know there was,” Wren said. “Because after the incident, Greg said Barry had a crush on Jane.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Wren was looking at him keenly now. “I’m not entirely convinced Greg was telling me the truth. I was one of the first on the scene after it had happened. The house was a mess, as if a full-on battle had occurred. I know Barry was horribly drunk, but I can’t help thinking that the motive doesn’t fit the crime.”

  “People have killed over love plenty of times,” Ben said softly.

  “You are absolutely right. I just had trouble believing Greg would be such a man. I know Barry’s death was an act of self-defence, but Greg is a master Spellsword, and Barry was no more than average. It seems odd that Greg couldn’t have disarmed B
arry without resorting to killing him.”

  Ben was vaguely aware that his body was shaking as he tried to remain calm. “Are you saying my dad intended to kill Barry?”

  “No,” Wren said with a certainty that calmed Ben a fraction. “Absolutely not. What I’m saying is, I’m not a hundred percent certain of the motives.”

  “Why would my father lie?”

  Wren’s grey eyes stared into his. “I don’t know.” She paused, but didn’t take her eyes off him. “Do you?”

  “Me?” Ben said in surprise. “Why would I know?”

  Wren smiled softly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Sometimes family intuition can be stronger and more reliable than anything else.”

  Wren stood up and slowly walked back to her desk. Ben stayed where he was, staring absently at the couch. Could there have been more to the incident than just romance gone horribly wrong?

  “Let me show you something,” Wren said.

  She was sitting at her desk again. Ben walked over and saw several large books plastered over her antique desk.

  “As you might imagine, my workload is rather cumbersome right now, with the dark elves claiming they are going to attack an as yet unknown destination in just twenty-nine days.”

  “I can imagine,” Ben said, trying to make head or tail of the books, wishing Charlie was here. Even upside down, he probably would have deciphered them by now.

  “Please, take a seat,” Wren said, motioning with a hand to the luxurious chair. “See these books? Despite my demands on time, Prince Robert still requires that I spend two hours of my day working on two things dear to his heart: the first is researching Queen Elizabeth I.”

  Ben clenched the armchair subconsciously. “Why is he doing that?”

  Wren shrugged. “He seems convinced that Queen Elizabeth I left a secret to defeat Suktar. The frustrating thing is he won’t tell me where he got such knowledge, and I have found very little to support his statement.”

  Ben kept very still, suddenly afraid that the tiniest movement would be construed as an obvious sign that he was hiding something. He kept his breathing normal and forced himself to relax.

  “The other thing the prince has me doing is looking for your parents,” Wren said. “He is absolutely certain that they can help us against the dark elves, if only we could find them.”

  Ben didn’t trust himself to speak.

  Wren sighed and, for the first time, Ben thought she looked a little tired.

  “If you learn of anything, please know that you can come to me any time. I hope that you can trust me.”

  Ben kept his expression neutral, but inside he was a whirlwind of emotion. He trusted Wren completely, and admired her more than anyone else at the Institute. The thought of telling her everything and getting it off his chest was tempting. The burden, even with Charlie, Natalie and now Dagmar helping, was still almost more than he could take. On top of which the constant mysteries his parents kept throwing up were mentally exhausting.

  But he couldn’t. Queen Elizabeth had been very specific with her orders, and Ben could immediately see why. The prince was clearly digging for something and Wren was obviously very close to him. If he revealed anything to Wren, the prince would be that much closer to finding everything out.

  Ben became aware that Wren was giving him a keen, calculating look and, for a minute, he wondered if she could read his mind.

  “I will let you know if I discover anything,” Ben said. By some miracle he managed to meet Wren’s gaze as he spoke.

  Wren smiled. “Thank you, Ben. And remember, if you ever need any help, I am always here.”

  Ben thanked her, feeling more than a little guilty. He turned and left, his mind still awhirl. Some questions had been answered, but a whole bunch more had been raised.

  — Chapter Sixteen —

  The Protectors

  Ben, Charlie and Natalie each had a fresh piece of cake and a perfectly prepared cup of tea in front of them. Despite everything, Ben was still able to take a moment to savour the delicious smells permeating Fuddleswell Tea Room. Natalie promptly ordered and cast the silencer spell, giving them some much needed privacy.

  Charlie and Natalie looked at Ben expectantly. Natalie showed no intention of touching her food until Ben started talking, but Charlie was already tucking into his strawberry layer cake.

  Ben took a sip of tea to collect his thoughts, and relayed his conversation with Wren, trying to recall every exchange. He saw Charlie threaten to intervene on more than one occasion, but was put off by a mouth full of food.

  “So, did we actually learn anything,” Charlie said, when Ben finished, “or are we just as confused as before?”

  Ben smiled, but Natalie shook her head, her wavy, brown hair brushing against her teacup.

  “Don’t be silly. We learnt that Joshua was wrong. His uncle was coming on to Ben’s mum, so his dad intervened.”

  “That’s the story, anyway,” Ben said.

  Charlie dabbed his lips with a napkin. “But Wren doesn’t believe it. It does seem hard to believe that someone would end up getting killed, even if the uncle was horribly drunk.”

  “I agree,” Ben said.

  “If it wasn’t a love spat, then why would Greg come over and have it out with the uncle in the first place?” Natalie asked.

  “I really don’t know,” Ben said. “And honestly, I don’t think we’ll find out until we rescue my parents.”

  “Well, at least we know Joshua’s uncle was responsible for his own demise,” Natalie said, giving Ben an encouraging smile. “That must be a weight off your shoulders, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Ben said. The horrible thought that his dad might, even inadvertently, have killed someone made him feel sick, but Ben kept that to himself.

  “What I want to know is why Joshua thought your mum and his uncle had a thing going on,” Charlie said.

  “I don’t know,” Ben admitted. “And frankly, I don’t think Joshua is going to tell us. He was acting really strange to me.”

  “You’ll need to be more specific. He always acts strange,” Charlie said.

  “I think he might have given up on the whole annoying bullying thing. I wonder if his dad said something to him. Now he’s resorted to just ignoring me, except when he throws me flashes of pure hatred.”

  “Well, that’s an improvement,” Charlie said.

  Natalie glanced at her watch. “It’s already 3:30pm, and I’m supposed to have dinner with my parents tonight.” She turned to Charlie. “It’s your turn to talk. What have you discovered about Elizabeth’s Helm?”

  “Oh yes, I’d almost forgotten,” Charlie said. He glanced at the cake table by the café front. “Do you think we have time for another one? All this talking is whetting my appetite.”

  Natalie passed over her apple tart to him. “Here. Now talk.”

  “The original Director of Scholars was a fellow called Timothy Dawson,” Charlie began. “For whatever reason, he didn’t trust his offspring to be Guardians of the Helm. He spent a great deal of time and money coming up with an alternative in the form of three Protectors, who would safeguard the helm as long as necessary. Each would receive a locket, and only when the three lockets were placed together would the location of the helm be revealed.”

  “What about the Guardian?”

  “The Guardian of the Helm is still the only person who can actually use the helm, but as far as I’m aware he or she has absolutely no idea about Elizabeth’s Armour or that such a helm exists. In fact, they may not know anything about the Institute at all.”

  “How does a new Protector get chosen?” Natalie asked.

  “That I’m not sure,” Charlie admitted. “But the lockets are very powerful artefacts, and from what I read it seems they are somehow responsible for choosing the next Protector.”

  “So let me get this straight,” Ben said. “To find the helm we have to locate three different people, as well as the Guardian?”

  “Tw
o now,” Charlie corrected, “as we already know about Hunter Abney. And he knows where the Guardian is, so actually the only two unknown factors are the other two Protectors.”

  “But Hunter won’t tell us where the Guardian is, unless I can pull Elizabeth’s Sword from my backside.”

  “We need to find the other Protectors,” Natalie said. “Maybe they’ll be more reasonable than Hunter, and can convince him that you are the sword’s Guardian.”

  “Where do we find the two Protectors?” Ben asked. He looked to Charlie. “Do you have any leads?”

  “Not at the moment,” Charlie admitted.

  Natalie dazzled them both with a smile. “You might not, but I do.”

  Ben and Charlie gave her looks of complete surprise.

  “What lead do you have?”

  “The locket. I’ve seen another one. Here in the Institute.”

  “Where?”

  Natalie’s smile faded a little. “On the neck of an Institute member. I can’t remember who exactly, though I know it was a guy, and I’m fairly sure he was a Scholar. I will have to ask around, but I’m sure I can find him.”

  “Good, because we’ve got only twenty-nine days to find the other Protectors, convince Hunter to reveal the Guardian, retrieve the helm, and then hopefully use it to foil the dark elf attack.”

  Charlie pushed away his plate, hand on his pot belly stomach. “Suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite.”

  — Chapter Seventeen —

  Aaron’s Surprise

  Tracking down the Institute member with the locket proved harder than Natalie anticipated. Other than the gender and the department, she could recall little of the wearer, which meant there were over two hundred suspects. The problem was made all the harder because many Scholars dressed prudently, and any locket could easily be hidden underneath their turtle-neck shirts.

  “I’ll find him,” Natalie said, as they performed their scouting duties at Tiddlehurst that following morning. The clouds had been brewing above and were now slowly drenching them. They took a break in a café, but after a while their consciences forced them back out onto the street.