The Protectors (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 3)

by Victor Kloss

  “What about all the normal people – the Seens?” Charlie asked.

  “Woodland Row has an eighty percent Unseen population, which includes people like myself, ordinary humans who have migrated from the Unseen Kingdoms to here.” David’s voice turned sombre, and he became distant. “The Seens were confused, of course. Those who tried to resist did not last. The rest, I assume, are sitting in their homes, scared silly.”

  Thinking of those families, oblivious to the Unseen Kingdoms, witnessing the dark elf attack made Ben’s blood run cold. He could only imagine what they were going through right now. His sombre thoughts were interrupted by a sudden flicker of light that shone through the window.

  “Ah, there’s the all-clear signal,” David said, his voice bubbly once more. “It’s safe to go out, for now. Where do you live? We’ll have a few officers escort you home.”

  Charlie and Natalie turned to Ben, but he had been expecting this, and he was ready.

  “We’re not going home,” he said firmly, giving David a defiant stare. “We’re going to the village hall.”

  This caused an immediate stir. There was a deep rumbling amongst the officers, and even a laugh from one who clearly thought it was some sort of joke.

  David looked at him with alarm. “Oh no, you can’t go there. That’s the dark elves’ headquarters.”

  “I know that,” Ben said.

  David’s face softened, and Ben was surprised to see a look of sympathy on his weathered face. “Who did you lose?”

  It took Ben a moment to realise that David thought the dark elves had killed someone close to him and that he was out for revenge.

  “Nobody, yet,” Ben said. “They have taken my sister. I am going to get her back.”

  David appeared reluctant to speak, and did so very gently. “Are you sure she is still alive?”

  Ben nodded. “I know she is. I was able to cast a life monitor spell on her before she was taken.”

  Ben had read about the spell, but had no idea how it worked or if he was even able to cast it. However, David glanced at Ben’s spellshooter, and seemed satisfied with the explanation.

  “It is a very brave thing you are attempting,” David said. “But I can’t let you go. I won’t let you throw your lives away.”

  Ben knew the minute he saw David that he was a compassionate man, and he had been expecting such a response.

  “You can’t stop me,” Ben said, making a none too subtle gesture to his spellshooter.

  “I’m afraid we can,” David said. His voice became almost a whisper. “I will not be responsible for any further needless deaths.”

  Ben was taken aback by David’s sudden haunted look, and wondered what he was referring to. He felt guilty about tugging on heart strings, but Ben could see that if he had any chance of making this work, he had no other choice.

  “I have to get my sister back,” Ben said. He made a show of anguish, scrunching his face. “My parents are gone. I don’t have anyone else.”

  It hadn’t been difficult to make his pain look real – he just thought about his mum and dad. There was another murmur in the room, and he knew he’d made an impression. David looked so pained, his brow furrowed, that Ben almost came clean.

  “I’m so sorry,” David said, half extending a consoling arm.

  Ben nodded. He could feel Charlie and Natalie staring at him, but decided against looking at them, for fear that they might give the game away.

  An uneasy silence followed, broken by a deep voice.

  “Can you use that spellshooter?”

  Ben turned. The man speaking was sitting on one of the few chairs. He must have been at least six feet tall, with a huge, curly beard, and thick eyebrows that gave him a stern impression.

  “Yes, I can,” Ben said.

  The man grunted. He produced a pellet from his pocket, and held it between his enormous thumb and finger.

  “Prove it,” he said, and threw Ben the pellet.

  “Why?” Ben asked.

  “If I’m going to help you, I need to believe you can defend yourself. Won’t work if I have to babysit you the whole time.”

  “You’re actually thinking of going, Sam?” a multitude of surprised voices asked.

  “We’re officers, aren’t we?” Sam said. “His sister has been kidnapped. That’s against the law.” He stroked his beard, and frowned. “Besides, I’m sick of sitting here talking. It’s driving me crazy.” He turned back to Ben. “But I won’t go if the boy can’t cast the spell.”

  Ben slapped the pellet into his orb.

  “My name is Ben,” he said, meeting Sam’s stare and holding it.

  Sam acknowledged the name with a nod, and Ben readied his spellshooter.

  “Take your time. Don’t rush, or you’ll lose focus,” Natalie said. He had almost forgotten she was there, but her calming voice and words of wisdom were reassuring.

  Ben took a calming breath. He blocked out the noise and ignored the pressure from a dozen expectant faces. It took him only a minute to locate the pellet. It was strong, definitely a grade-four spell. The pellet was comprised of all four elements – fire, air, earth and water. Ben had never cast anything so complicated. Just bringing the pellet under control was difficult; it kept sliding away. With great care and effort, he slowly coaxed the pellet towards the barrel.

  “Taking his time, ain’t he?” a rough voice asked.

  The pellet slipped and retreated back up the orb. He bit his lip in frustration, and felt his focus slipping.

  “He can take as long as he wants,” Sam’s deep voice said. “Keep going, Ben.”

  Patience. Ben waited until he was back in the zone before seeking out the pellet again. Slowly – ever so slowly – he eased the pellet towards the barrel, ignoring the trickle of sweat running down his forehead. Several times the pellet threatened to escape back up the orb, but each time he caught it, refusing to get angry or frustrated, knowing such emotions would only hinder progress. His finger itched to pull the trigger, but he waited, until the pellet slid into place.

  He aimed low, and fired a small, multi-coloured pellet into the lounge rug. Four coloured columns formed, extending upwards. The red and white columns rose almost to the ceiling, the green stopped three-quarters of the way up, and the blue made it only halfway. They stayed there long enough to admire them, before slowly fading away.

  When Ben refocused on the officers, he saw them staring at him, most of them speechless, each with varying degrees of astonishment on their rugged faces.

  “Impressive,” Sam said, nodding. He was one of the few who didn’t appear surprised, though Ben had a feeling very little surprised him.

  “What was that?” Charlie asked.

  “An elemental test,” Sam said. “It shows the potential strength in each of the four elements, represented by the size of the coloured columns. Most people don’t reach higher than four feet.”

  Ben recalled the size of the beams, especially the red and white ones – fire and air.

  “So, will you help me?” Ben asked.

  A couple of the men nodded, but most were looking at Sam, who in turn was watching Ben, stroking his beard. Ben met the stare, but inside, his heart was hammering.

  “We’ll help you, on two conditions,” Sam said, holding out his fingers – even they looked muscular. “One: you follow my orders. We attack when I say attack, and we run when I say run. If this is going to work, we have to be one unit. If you try something foolhardy, you could blow everything.”

  Ben nodded, wondering at how Sam had guessed his character so accurately.

  The second finger came up. “Two: your friends must stay here.”

  Both Charlie and Natalie cried out, and stepped forwards.

  “No way,” Charlie said. “We’re not staying here.”

  “Your courage is admirable,” Sam said. “But your spellshooters will be ineffective against the dark elves, and neither of you is physically strong enough to prove useful. One of my men would have to look
out for you, and that makes you a liability.”

  “Liability or not, we’re coming,” Natalie said with conviction. “Right, Charlie?”

  Charlie was staring into space, a sudden look of self-doubt plastered across his face. Ben knew what Charlie was thinking – Sam’s argument made logical sense, and Charlie always had trouble defying logic. Ben desperately wanted them to come, because he felt infinitely more confident with them by his side. But, like Charlie, he could not think of an argument that might work on someone like Sam.

  “Charlie?” Natalie said. “Can you back me up here?”

  Charlie rubbed his forehead, suddenly looking tired, and said in a soft voice, “He may have a point.”

  “What?” Natalie turned, her hair whipping into Charlie’s face. “You can’t be serious?”

  Charlie’s voice sounded resigned. “If we go, we lessen their chance of success. They will have to look out for us, and neither of us is strong enough to take down the dark elves. They’ve seen that already.”

  “We can still help,” Natalie said stubbornly. “We are another set of eyes; maybe we could hide and catch Abigail while the rest are fighting. We could – oh, I don’t know, but we have to go!”

  She finished with such a crescendo that Charlie stepped back in alarm.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Charlie said. “He said we cannot go.”

  “Exactly,” Sam said. “And let that be an end to the matter.”

  But Natalie wasn’t finished. She squared up to Charlie, looking him right in the eye. Charlie seemed reluctant to meet her green-eyed stare.

  “You don’t want to go, do you?” Natalie said, her voice soft. Each word seemed to cut into Charlie like a knife, but he didn’t respond. “You never wanted to go. And to think, I thought you were the brave one.”

  “Natalie,” Ben said.

  Charlie raised his hand, cutting him off. “That’s okay, Ben. She’s right. I don’t want to go into that village hall. It’s suicide.”

  Ben grit his teeth, anger bubbling forth. “I know you don’t want to go, you idiot. But it’s got nothing to do with cowardice.”

  Charlie nodded, but Natalie didn’t seem to see or believe his response, because contempt was oozing from her every pore.

  “Enough of this,” Sam said, rising. “I will take eight men with me; the rest will stay here. We must leave now. The majority of the dark elves have left to welcome their prince. Once he arrives, he will make for the village hall and when that happens we have no chance of getting your sister back.”

  In short order, Sam was standing by the door with eight tough-looking men. To Ben’s surprise, David, the small, bumbling landlord, was with them, wearing a spellshooter every bit as elaborate and powerful as the others.

  “Good luck,” Charlie said, with a sad smile.

  “If you’re not back by midnight, I’m coming to find you, even if I go by myself,” Natalie said, with a certainty that Ben dared not defy.

  Ben took one last long look at his friends. Neither was looking at each other. He wanted to bang their heads together and get them to make up, but Sam nudged him in the back, and they headed out the door, into the night.

  — Chapter Twenty-Nine —

  The Prince and the Lockets

  Despite proving himself by casting the spell, Ben noticed that he was in the middle of the group, safely surrounded by the officers. Leading the group was Sam, with David beside him, little and large. The dark elves might have occupied the village, but Ben couldn’t help feeling his chances had increased dramatically surrounded by so much fire power. They walked quickly, but silently, keeping to the middle of the road, as it was furthest from the lampposts.

  “Right!” one of the officers hissed, pointing.

  By the time Ben turned to look, the dark elf had already been hit by three different spells, and lay twitching on the kerb.

  “There’s an intersection ahead and a patrol of six heading down the road coming from the left. They could turn this way,” another officer said, glancing at his spellshooter’s orb.

  “Does anyone have a concealment spell?” Sam asked.

  Ben checked his orb, but felt none. To his dismay, none of the others did either.

  “Shall we take them out?” David asked. Ben thought he saw him salivating at the prospect.

  “No. The noise would alert every dark elf in the village,” Sam said. He looked about, quickly taking in their surroundings. “Find somewhere to hide.”

  Ben was amazed at how quickly the officers responded to his order – only David hesitated, cursing for a moment, before darting off.

  Ben followed David as he hid behind a parked BMW, ducking down onto his knees. Ben followed suit. He tried to stop breathing, sure that it would give them away. Ben listened as the voices and footsteps became louder. He had a horrific thought – what if they turned down their road? They would pass right by. David appeared to have the same thought, and smiled. Ben resisted the urge to take a peek, but to his relief the voices began to recede. Sam waited until their voices were faint, before reappearing, signalling the rest to re-group.

  The village hall was now directly before them, lit by the moon and the surrounding lampposts. It was an old stone building, with a long, sloping roof and small windows. Ben had been expecting guards outside, but it appeared empty.

  “Let’s hope the security is this bad inside,” one of the officers muttered.

  Sam increased his pace, and within moments the ten of them had gathered round the large, arched front door. Two officers kept a lookout, while the rest huddled round Sam.

  “We have no idea what we’re going to face in there,” Sam said. “But I want us in and out as quickly as possible, before they can call for back-up. If the prince shows up, don’t even bother attacking, just try to get out any way you can.”

  “Is he that bad?” one of the officers asked.

  Sam nodded. “There are only one or two people who could stand against him, and they all work at the Institute.” He cracked his knuckles, his gaze sweeping round. “Are we ready?”

  Ben felt the adrenaline shoot through his body, as everyone nodded, checking their spellshooters. His own hands were sweating and he wiped them on his jumper. He harnessed the fear, fuelling his muscles and heightening his senses.

  “Let’s go!” Sam shouted, and rammed open the door. Ben added his voice to the chorus of roars, and he followed the others in.

  They stopped inside just long enough to survey the scene. The village hall was much like any other Ben had visited. There was one large room, with a high, vaulted ceiling supported by wooden beams. Chairs and tables were stacked to one side of the room, and on the other was a makeshift rack, full of confiscated spellshooters. There was a raised platform at the back of the hall, on which sat a lavishly decorated chair. Running down the centre of the hall was a slender, purple carpet, which went from Ben’s feet at the entrance all the way to the platform. Along both sides of the carpet, clearly intended as a guard of honour, were a dozen dark elf soldiers. Ben could see immediately by their more elaborate uniforms that these were no ordinary dark elves.

  “Target spotted,” Sam said, as his eyes swept the scene.

  Standing out of the way, on the left side of the hall, was Hunter, with Abigail by his side. Her pale skin looked bleached white, but Ben saw a flicker of hope and recognition the moment she spotted him. Two guards stood either side of Hunter, standing rigidly to attention.

  The moment of stunned silence lasted only seconds, but it was enough to give them the element of surprise. The officers fired into the static dark elves, launching bolts, blasts and cluster bullets of all size and colour. Several of the dark elves were hit and fell to the floor, but the majority blocked with spells of their own or dodged and rolled with cat-like grace.

  The dark elves ignited purple flames with one hand, and with the other, drew their swords, spreading themselves across the hall.

  “Move!” Sam ordered, as a hail of purple death rained
in on them.

  The officers fanned left and right, giving themselves a direct line of fire, and reducing the chance of collateral damage from the elves’ spells. Ben moved left, edging closer to Hunter, who remained to the side of the hall, out of harm’s way. Ben ignored the dark elf spells, even when a sizzling purple disc flew right at his face, only to deflect away at the last minute.

  The dark elves fired once more and then broke into a perfectly synchronised run, swords aloft. The officers fired pellets into their hands, and swords materialised. With a cry, they charged into the dark elves. There was a clash of swords, and the battle was joined.

  Ben had been waiting for this moment. He had meticulously gone through each of Dagmar’s spells so that he would know exactly what to cast and when. He pointed the spellshooter into his palm, ignoring the dark elf who was charging right at him. A light blue, almost ethereal sword materialised. The moment Ben’s hand clasped the handle, the dark elf seemed to slow down. Ben stepped forwards and they clashed swords. Within the first ten seconds, Ben knew he would have died if not for the spell. The elf was incredibly skilled, and moved with an efficiency that almost nullified Ben’s time-slowing spell. He parried and blocked for his life, until he started to read the elf’s swordplay. Every time he went for a left slash, Ben saw the elf’s left eye close. He waited for the right moment, anticipated the elf’s attack, and then sunk his blade into the elf’s chest.

  He barely had time to remove the blade before two more dark elves were upon him. Ben dispatched the first one with a lightning-quick riposte, but in doing so he ceded the advantage to the second elf, and only just managed to block a killer blow to the heart. All of a sudden he found himself defending for his life, blocking and parrying like a madman. Ben was just a fraction too slow and felt the elf’s sword slice into his shoulder. He cried out loud, stumbled back and fell. The dark elf stepped forwards and raised his sword for the kill. Ben grabbed his spellshooter and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He tried again and again, knowing with horrific certainty that he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to fire anything. The elf’s sword came down. A blizzard of ice smacked into the dark elf, sending him flying. He tried to rise, and another spell hit him. He rose no more. Ben scrambled to his feet, and saw David flash a grin at him, before cleaving into another dark elf with a mastery that had Ben staring in astonishment.