The Protectors (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 3)

by Victor Kloss

  — Chapter Twenty-Three —

  Help from Dagmar

  With two days left until the dark elf attack, the mood started to change in the Unseen Kingdoms. The chatter was replaced with anxiety, as Seen and Unseen alike waited to see what was going to happen. Despite Wren’s assurances that this was not a full-scale war, the history of the dark elves was a long and bloody one and their threat rekindled past horrors.

  As a rule, Ben never gave up on anything, but the next day, he came close. He and Charlie barely spoke on the Dragonway, and accepted their messenger duties with a silent nod. Ben kept on thinking there must be something they could do, but despite his imaginative mind he kept drawing a blank. Could Wren help if he revealed everything? No, he couldn’t go down that route. He wouldn’t.

  Both he and Charlie had short trips to make that morning, and they were back at the Institute before 11am, with a rare bit of time to kill.

  “Do you want to come down to Taecia Square with me?” Charlie asked, idly munching on a bar he had magically produced from his pocket. “I’m going to open up a bank account. It’s boring, but I thought we could drop by the Gingerbread House. I happen to know that their batches come out of the oven at twelve past the hour, and they are incredible.”

  Ben shrugged. “Sure. I also wanted to look at a new holster for my spellshooter.”

  They were heading out the door when they heard a very loud, but familiar shriek.

  Natalie was flying down the staircase at such a pace that she almost fell, despite her incredible balance. She jumped the last five steps and flew through the air, landing with barely a sound.

  “Ben! Charlie!” Natalie said. She was breathing so heavily that the rest of the sentence was lost as she took deep gasps of air. Her face was red, and her eyes had an almost wild look.

  “Calm down,” Ben said. “Take ten deep breaths before speaking.”

  Natalie took a handful of lung-bursting breaths, and then with gesticulating arms said, “Locket. Just saw it.”

  Ben’s stomach almost lurched out of his throat. “Where?”

  “Gone now,” Natalie said, a frustrated look in her green eyes. “I saw the Scholar from a distance and chased after him, but he was in a rush and was quick. He went up to the roof, and took off on a great eagle before I could catch up to him.”

  Ben was running outside before Natalie had finished speaking, looking skywards. He spotted several great eagles in the air, but they were at such a height it was impossible to make out who was flying them.

  “I’m so sorry,” Natalie said, with a pained expression. Her hands were tugging her hair almost painfully. “I didn’t even catch his name.”

  “Don’t worry about it. He was a Scholar?” Ben asked.

  “Yes, three diamonds,” Natalie said, with a definite nod.

  “Could you describe him?” Charlie asked.

  Natalie shut her eyes for a moment. “Yes, I think so. He was skinny and had long legs; I remember that because he was able to take the steps three at a time. He had curly, brown hair, a beard, and a long nose.”

  “Let’s hope that’s enough to go on,” Ben said.

  “Do you know someone who might know him?” Natalie asked, sounding slightly desperate.

  “Dagmar,” Charlie replied immediately.

  Ben nodded, and without wasting any more time ran up the stairs almost as quickly as Natalie had descended them.

  “She’s going to be thrilled to see us again,” Charlie muttered breathlessly, as he tried to keep up.

  Ben opened the double doors and went straight to Dagmar’s office. He knocked, and turned the handle, without waiting for a reply.

  It was locked.

  Ben knocked harder, but there was no answer.

  “We have muster at 1pm. We’ll see her then,” Charlie said.

  Ben slammed his fist on her door. “I don’t want to wait that long. Where could she be?”

  In answer, Dagmar’s voice rang along the hallway.

  “Stop that man!”

  Despite the urgency in her command, there was no panic or alarm in her voice – a complete contrast to the man who rounded the corner and came into view. He was running at full pelt and coming right for them, his eyes wide with terror.

  Dagmar rounded the corner a moment later, walking unhurriedly, but with a steely glint in her eye.

  Ben crouched, and launched himself at the man’s waist. The man’s momentum carried him onwards, but Ben clung on to his legs, trying to pin them together. The force of the man’s stride was too much, and he was about to lose grip, when a Charlie-sized cannonball hit the man, slamming him against the wall. Ben, Charlie and the man went down in a heap. The man tried to get back up, but Ben and Charlie pinned him down. He writhed like an eel, crying out to be let go.

  “Oh, be still,” Dagmar said.

  Ben looked up to see Dagmar pointing her spellshooter at the man. She fired – a spark shot forth, and the man moved no more.

  Dagmar calmly holstered her spellshooter. “Needless to say, you have failed the initiation test, Mr. Gormack. You will return home, unaware that this ever happened, without any knowledge of the Institute or the Unseen Kingdoms. Good day.”

  Ben climbed to his feet. Mr. Gormack was lying there, staring at the ceiling. He was blinking, and clearly aware of his surroundings.

  “Thank you, Mr. Greenwood, Mr. Hornberger,” Dagmar said, with something close to a respectful nod.

  During the adrenaline rush of the tackle, Ben had very briefly forgotten why they were up there, but it came flooding back the moment he set eyes on Dagmar.

  “We need to talk to you,” Ben said.

  Dagmar was shaking her head even before Ben had finished speaking. “After muster. Believe it or not, Mr. Greenwood, I am busy.”

  Ben almost reached out and grabbed her small arm as she passed by, but realised quickly enough that that would not be clever.

  “It’s about the helm,” he said, his voice urgent.

  Dagmar stopped. She turned, and stared at all three of them. Ben saw Charlie flinch as her hawk-like stare honed in on him.

  “My office. Now,” Dagmar said.

  “Er, are we just going to leave him there?” Charlie asked in a timid voice, pointing to Mr. Gormack on the floor.

  “My clean-up team will deal with him,” Dagmar said.

  “Who was he?” Natalie asked, glancing back at the paralysed man.

  “A new recruit, hand-picked by the external recruitment division. That is their third failure in succession. I will be having a word with them.”

  Dagmar led them into her office. Instead of taking her customary position at her desk, she stayed by the door, arms behind her back.

  “Start talking,” she said.

  Natalie quickly relayed the events that had happened, down to the description of the Scholar. Ben was relieved to see Dagmar’s impatience quickly disappear.

  “Three stars, you say?” Dagmar asked. “There are three men who roughly fit your description, but given the circumstances I would say the one you want is Nigel Winkleforth.”

  “Why him?” Ben asked.

  “He has been unwell from the exact date that Hunter and the other Protector were attacked by the dark elf. In fact, he only returned today.”

  “You think he’s been in hiding?” Charlie asked.

  “Possibly. He may have been lying low.”

  “Do you know where he could have gone?”

  “Home,” Dagmar said immediately. “He feels safe there. You’ll see why when you visit.”

  “How do we get there?” Ben asked, a little too bluntly, momentarily forgetting who he was talking to.

  In reply, Dagmar strode round to her desk, and opened a drawer. She took out a white pellet and threw it to Natalie, who caught it smartly.

  “Her name is Ava,” Dagmar said. “I would very much like her returned unharmed.”

  “Of course,” Natalie said, giving an unexpected smile.

  Dagmar tapp
ed her desk, her eyes becoming momentarily distant. Ben had never seen her look thoughtful or undecided before, and wondered what she could possibly be thinking. Dagmar then walked over to the opposite wall and pressed her hand against a large stone slab. There was a click, and the stone glowed red, before swinging open. Dagmar stared inside whatever cavity had been created, and retrieved a small pouch. She pushed the stone back into place, and promptly walked over to Ben.

  “These are for emergencies only,” Dagmar said.

  “You think I will need them? We’re only visiting this Nigel Winkleforth bloke, not going to war.”

  “Those spells are costly,” Dagmar said, as if she hadn’t heard Ben’s question. “I want a written explanation of every spell you fire. If I am not satisfied of the motive, I shall be billing you for them. They are not play things. Do I make myself clear?”

  Ben muttered a reply. Dagmar gave a satisfied nod, and they were dismissed.

  Natalie set a quick pace up the grand staircase, Ben and Charlie right behind.

  “I have to admit,” Charlie said, “I’m a little confused. Who or what is Ava, and where are we going?”

  “Ava is Dagmar’s griffin. That pellet she gave me is a summoning spell. It will let us ride her.”

  “Ride her where?” Ben asked. “Does the griffin know where Winkleforth’s house is?”

  Natalie nodded. “She must do, otherwise Dagmar would have given us directions.”

  Charlie was breathing heavily by the time they reached the top of the Institute and stepped outside into the stables. Ben pinched his nose by habit, as the stench from the animals’ manure hit him. Many of the paddocks were empty, but Ben still saw several griffins, pegasi and even a couple of wyverns, looking rather bored.

  Natalie loaded the pellet Dagmar had given her and fired her spellshooter into the sky. A small, bright ball of energy soared upwards and then immediately veered off and cannoned into a nearby griffin. The griffin immediately stopped pruning itself and spread its wings. With a couple of powerful flaps, it took to the air, and flew towards them. Charlie stepped back instinctively, but Ben held his ground, seeing Natalie’s ease as the animal approached. It landed right in front of them.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” Natalie said, stepping forwards and placing her hand on the animal’s neck. “She’s a royal griffin, bred by the noble family of Queros, who are famed for their incredible stock of small winged animals.”

  Ben didn’t know much about griffins, but she certainly looked a cut above the others. Her wings were sprinkled with gold, and she was a good head bigger than the rest, with powerful legs and keen, intelligent eyes.

  “Shall we get going?” Natalie said, with a grin. She whispered into Ava’s ear and the griffin knelt down. Natalie leapt up gracefully, placing her arms around the griffin’s neck.

  “I’m not sure I can get up there,” Charlie said, looking anxiously at the griffin.

  Ben’s leap wasn’t quite as graceful as Natalie’s, but he was a good deal more elegant than Charlie, who scrambled up.

  “Sorry,” Charlie said, settling in behind Ben, who was placed in the middle.

  “I hope that apology was meant for the griffin,” Ben said. “You trampled all over her.”

  “Hush for a moment,” Natalie said. She leant forwards and whispered into the griffin’s long ears.

  “Hold on!” Natalie said suddenly.

  Ben felt Charlie’s chubby arms wrap so tightly around Ben’s waist that he struggled to breathe. Ben wanted to wrap his own arms round Natalie’s waist, but settled for placing them on her shoulders.

  The griffin went onto its hind legs, and flapped its wings. Charlie screamed in horror – Ben and Natalie in delight – and the griffin took to the air. They rose swiftly, until Taecia sprawled below them like Lego pieces.

  “Do we know where we’re going?” Charlie asked, his voice muffled by the wind.

  “No idea,” Natalie said. “But I hope it’s not too close, because I love flying, especially with an animal as wonderful as Ava.”

  “I’m more of an airplane person myself, business class preferably,” Charlie muttered into Ben’s back.

  They left Taecia and were soon flying over the sea. Charlie claimed they were heading west, which meant they were flying in the general direction of Canada. The sky was littered with white, fluffy clouds, which Ava did her best to avoid, but occasionally they would fly through one, and come out the other end cold and damp.

  The initial excitement of the flight soon wore off as they travelled, and Ben started wondering when they might start descending. Occasionally he would see small islands, but the griffin never veered from its course.

  “I really hope Winkleforth doesn’t actually live in Canada,” Charlie said. “Though it is lovely this time of year.”

  “I see something,” Natalie said; her elf-like eyes were far sharper than Ben’s or Charlie’s.

  Ben squinted, but saw nothing except the ocean.

  “Not down there – over there,” Natalie said. She was pointing dead ahead.

  Ben could just about make out something floating on top of a small cloud. As he got closer, he realised it was a large wooden sign. Natalie slowed the griffin until it was hovering in front of the sign.

  “NO ENTRY.”

  “You are entering the grounds of Nigel Winkleforth. Trespassers will be persecuted.”

  “What on earth does that mean?” Charlie said. “Grounds, by definition, are on the ground. We are hundreds of feet up in the air.”

  “I’m not sure,” Natalie admitted. “I guess we should keep going, right?”

  “Yes,” Ben said, at the same time that Charlie said “no”.

  They continued onwards, but at a more sedate pace, their eyes constantly searching the skies. Five minutes passed, when Natalie once again pointed out another sign in the distance. The moment they could make out its message, Ben felt the blood leave his face.

  “Turn back,” Charlie said, his voice strangled. “Turn back now.”

  “DANGER. Wyverns patrolling beyond this point. Unauthorised visitors will be repelled.”

  “I’m getting the idea that this Nigel Winkleforth isn’t a people person,” Ben said.

  “A lot of Scholars aren’t,” Natalie said.

  Charlie thumped Ben’s back. “Can we turn round now? We can find this bloke tomorrow at the Institute.”

  “Not necessarily,” Ben said. “He hasn’t been coming in much, remember? I say we continue.”

  “Are you mad?” Charlie said. “How about we take a vote? All in favour of not dying horribly raise their hands.”

  Ben felt Charlie’s hand shoot into the air. Natalie’s remained where it was. Charlie sagged against him.

  “Don’t you remember we rode a wyvern with Alex?” Charlie said, his voice desperate. “That thing was a killing machine.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to kill us,” Natalie said. “It just says repel. I say we give it a go. We may not run into it, and if we do, I think it will just try to scare us away.”

  Ben wasn’t completely convinced with Natalie’s line of reasoning, especially if they managed to get past the wyvern and headed towards the house, but he kept his concerns quiet.

  “Let’s do it,” Ben said.

  — Chapter Twenty-Four —

  The Floating Castle

  Ben could feel Charlie trembling as they flew onwards, Ava gracefully avoiding the darker clouds. The griffin seemed to know where to go, because occasionally she adjusted her position, banking left or right.

  “He must have large grounds,” Charlie said.

  It had been a good ten minutes since they saw the warning sign, yet there was no sign of the house. Ben was constantly looking down at the sea, hoping to see an island or some sign of land that they could head to.

  The griffin squawked suddenly, a loud, deep noise that made Charlie jump and almost fall, Ben’s hand snaking out to save him.

  “Why is she making a noise?” Ben
asked.

  “Please tell me it’s a sign that we’re close,” Charlie said.

  Natalie’s voice was uncertain. “I don’t think so – I think it’s—”

  A roar echoed through the air, coming from below. The griffin squawked again and banked right. The roar came again, this time loud enough to send shock waves through Ben’s body.

  “Oh no…" Charlie said. The rest of his sentence was lost to the sound of another bellowing roar.

  Directly below them, Ben saw a wyvern’s long head appear through the cloud, moments before its huge body revealed itself, flying towards them with frightening speed. Its short wings brushed the cloud aside. The wyvern’s slender neck reminded Ben of a giraffe, but the similarities ended there; its rows of teeth looked more like a crocodile’s, and its yellow, oval eyes were terrifying.

  The griffin flapped hard, and Ben nearly fell off as the animal accelerated. The wind was now screaming in his ears, and his eyes were watering. He clung on to Natalie for dear life, all decorum forgotten. Behind them, the wyvern turned to follow. It was not an agile beast and they gained a bit of distance as it banked, but that distance swiftly evaporated as the wyvern picked up speed.

  “We need to go faster!” Charlie said, looking behind every ten seconds, his eyes wild.

  “This is as fast as she goes,” Natalie said.

  The griffin suddenly banked right, and Ben saw a green ball of fire sail by.

  “Acid balls,” Natalie said, pressing her body against the griffin. “They will take your skin off.”

  Ben looked down. They were still hundreds of feet above the ocean. He had a fleeting thought that they should turn around, but dismissed it from his mind. Instead, he took out his spellshooter, and closed his eyes, searching for something that might slow the wyvern down. With great difficulty, he shut out the piercing wind, the roar of the chasing wyvern, and even Charlie’s constant screaming. In one motion he turned and fired. A thick fog spewed out of his spellshooter, and they instantly lost all sight and sound of the wyvern.