The Protectors (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 3)

by Victor Kloss

  “Watch sport on TV?” Ben guessed.

  “No. We’re supposed to beat that creep Aaron in a game of spellstrike.”

  Ben stopped in his tracks as the penny dropped. That’s what he had been missing.

  “Oh, darn. I’d forgotten all about that,” he said.

  “How’s our team looking?” Natalie said, with a teasing smile.

  “Not bad actually. There’s us three, and possibly Abigail, if we can get her joined up to the Institute in time.”

  “So possibly four,” Natalie said. “Even if we were all pros, that still wouldn’t cut it. You’re not allowed to play unless you have eight players and two reserves. We’ll have to forfeit.”

  “No, we’re not doing that,” Ben said sternly.

  “What other choice is there?”

  Natalie was right: their options were limited. But Ben was not giving up, that much was certain. An idea started forming inside his head.

  “Uh oh, I recognise that face,” Charlie said. “How mad is this plan?”

  “Pretty mad,” Ben conceded. “But not dangerous.”

  “Oh good. I’m in, then.”

  “So are we turning up tomorrow?” Natalie asked.

  Ben smiled. “Absolutely. We’ve got a game to play, remember?”

  — Chapter Thirty-Five —

  The Duel and the Key

  Despite the minor issue of the spellstrike game, Ben went home with a skip in his step, and even managed to have a semi-civilised conversation with his grandma, which mainly revolved around how her neighbour’s cat was now spying on her. That night he slept like a log.

  The following morning was brisk but pleasant. Ben put on a light jacket and slung his backpack over his shoulder. He grabbed his spellshooter and set off to the station. He met Charlie and Natalie at the Croydon Dragonway, studying a map.

  “We’re not taking our usual dragon,” Natalie said. Her finger trailed along an orange line. “Alexia Bay lies around five hundred miles west, not too far off the coast of Ireland. I’ve only ever seen brochures of the place, but it’s supposed to be amazing. The island is rich in dwarf history. Apparently they have ruins there dating back centuries.”

  The journey was considerably longer than the one to Taecia, but they were in no rush, and the time passed easily. The carriage was sparsely occupied, allowing them to spread out, which made a nice difference from the normal packed commute.

  “It’s supposed to be an 11am kick-off,” Natalie said, “which means we’ll probably have to head straight to the battleground, in order to make it on time.”

  “You still haven’t told us your plan, Ben,” Charlie pointed out, while munching on a packet of crisps.

  Ben was twirling the old, iron key he had received from Winkleforth. He had forgotten to take it out of his pocket the previous night. The more he examined it, the older he realised it was. Ben sometimes caught himself wondering what sort of magnificent door it might unlock. Why had Winkleforth entrusted it to him? Could it have something to do with Elizabeth’s Armour?

  “I’m not going to tell you my plan, as that will ruin its effectiveness. Your job will just be to play along,” Ben said. “But I can promise that you won’t be involved in anything stupid or dangerous.”

  Once they realised Ben wasn’t going to elaborate, they briefly touched on the subject of the next piece of Elizabeth’s Armour, but none of them felt like tackling that subject just yet, and their conversation soon drifted to the far more important issue of the year’s top ten movies.

  “Here we are,” Natalie said, pinning her arms onto the chair with excitement.

  The dragon train slowed and started gliding upwards, until it trundled out of the darkness, into Alexia Bay station. They stared everywhere like wide-eyed tourists.

  Ben’s first impression was that they had drifted into a five-star hotel. The platforms consisted of chequered marble, and there were glass and open spaces everywhere. White-gloved porters stood to attention outside, ready to deal with luggage or any other needs.

  The dragon let out a puff of steam and came to a standstill. They stepped onto the platform. Ben was surprised to find the temperature a little warmer here, despite the fact that they had not travelled any further south.

  They followed the signs for a taxi, which led them outside.

  “Wow,” Charlie said, with a soft whistle. “I can see why this place is exclusive.”

  They found themselves on a gentle hill, overlooking the most incredible curved beach Ben had ever seen. It felt like they were in a postcard. The sand was golden; the sea clear blue. Houses backed onto the beach, each situated comfortably apart to give plenty of space to their neighbours. Further inland, the landscape turned green, with rolling hills that dwarfed those he was used to at home. Grand houses could be spotted in the distance, each with an incredible vista overlooking the hills, onto the bay.

  “So, one of those belongs to Aaron’s family?” Charlie said. “They must have serious money.”

  Natalie led them onto a cobbled street, and they soon ran into the taxi station – a row of pristine silver carriages of various sizes, pulled by white pegasi. They chose an elegant, but functional three-man carriage, and gave the driver the address. Moments later they were in the air, relishing the sea breeze, as they sailed up and over the bay, before turning inland, towards the hills.

  Ben enjoyed the journey, but the moment the D’Gayle mansion came into view, he felt the first flicker of unease. Was he going to be able to pull this off? Ben grit his teeth. It was too late to change anything now.

  “Not a bad little pad,” Charlie commented.

  The “pad” was a simple, but elegant, white sandstone mansion, sitting on the top of a large, flattened hill. Ben could see the gardens and the hills beyond, which no doubt Aaron’s family owned. He searched for the spellstrike battleground, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

  “This the one, ma’am?” the driver asked.

  “Yes, this is it,” Natalie said.

  The driver descended, and landed on a cobbled road outside the main gated entrance. Charlie promptly paid for the taxi, and he departed, leaving them alone, facing a none too friendly black gate barring their way in.

  Ben walked up to the gate and rattled it. It didn’t move an inch. The possibility that they might not be able to get in crossed Ben’s mind, and he brightened. That would certainly make things easier.

  “May I have your names please?”

  Ben jumped back. One minute, the place had been empty, the next, an elegantly dressed elf was standing behind the gates, looking right at him with a friendly smile. Ben quickly recovered, and rattled off their names.

  The elf smiled, and the gate opened. “Ah yes, the star guest and friends. I believe they are waiting for you at the battleground. Would you like me to take you there directly?”

  “Star guest? No pressure, then,” Ben said. “Yes, that would be great.”

  “Please wait here. I will be back in just a moment.”

  To their surprise, the elf returned moments later in a golf buggy. They hopped in, and the elf was soon driving them through the estate, and into the gardens. Ben noticed dozens of other elves tending the gardens. The formal landscape soon gave way to the more natural sweeping hillside, and the cart ambled along with far more efficiency than the regular golf buggies Ben was used to. Eventually the winding path opened up into a large valley, and Ben saw an arch ahead, engraved with the words D’Gayle Stadium. Ben had visited several football stadiums in his life, but none of them gave him quite the anticipation he felt now. The cart passed through the arch, and then came to a sudden stop.

  Three gasps sounded in unison.

  The stadium, if you could call it that, had been dug into the valley, and they found themselves looking down on it from above. The size was hard to measure, but Ben guessed at least four football stadiums, complete with seating. The playing field was like a crazy obstacle course. There were man-made hills, houses in which to hide, mini
castles, thick bushes, and tunnels everywhere. Most impressive of all were the mighty trees, linked with roped bridges and platforms. At the centre of the field was a circle marked out in white. Within it were people waving at them, looking rather small from this high up.

  “Looks like our opponents bidding us welcome,” Charlie said.

  Ben smiled. “Let’s go down and say hi.”

  They thanked the elf and headed down a flight of stairs that led to the main field. Ben’s hands suddenly felt sweaty and he felt the holster of his spellshooter for comfort. The moment he entered the battleground, his heart rate went up a gear. Everything looked so much bigger down at ground level. The trees towered over them, even the hedges looked huge, creating sections of the field that were pure mazes.

  Ben could feel anxiety radiating from Charlie and Natalie walking by his side.

  “Remember, just let me do the talking, and don’t act surprised, no matter what I say or do,” Ben said.

  Ben became aware how outnumbered they were as they approached the circle in the field’s centre. Aaron’s team had lined up, side by side, with Aaron in the middle. Ben had expected to see twelve strong, athletic third-graders, but instead he found himself facing a variety of characters of all types, from small to large, both boy and girl. He recognised all of them; several he considered to be friends. William was there and, to his surprise, so was Simon.

  “Line up,” Ben said. Charlie and Natalie did so.

  Aaron stepped forwards and extended his hand. Ben met the firm handshake with his own.

  “Where is the rest of your team?” Aaron asked. His voice contained only mild surprise, but Ben could detect an undercurrent of annoyance.

  Ben stepped back and spread his arms. “You’re looking at them.”

  Aaron frowned. “Is this a joke?”

  Ben heard Natalie groan, but ignored her.

  “No, it’s not. You want a game? We’re ready. Where do we load up?”

  Ben saw two open containers to their left, which held a selection of spells they could choose from. He had read that much about the game at least.

  “You cannot play with just three players,” Aaron said. “I’m sure you know that’s against the rules.”

  Ben shrugged. “Look, that’s all we’ve got right now. I haven’t had time to build my team yet. So are we going to do this or not?”

  Aaron stared at him. Ben stared back. He had Aaron in a corner. But to Ben’s surprise, Aaron smiled.

  Ben watched as Aaron wandered over to the side of the field. There must have been at least thirty people who had turned up to watch the game and were sitting in the stands, just beyond the battlefield. They were calling out to Aaron in enquiring voices.

  Aaron gave them an exaggerated shrug. “It seems he wants to play with three players!”

  There were a few confused noises, but the overriding response was laughter. Aaron laughed with them.

  “I told him you need twelve,” Aaron said, with another laugh. “His maths is clearly not as good as his spellshooting.”

  Ben watched as Aaron continued to talk and joke with the small crowd. It wasn’t pleasant to watch.

  “He’s creaming you,” Natalie said.

  Ben ground his teeth. “I know. But I need to wait for him to come back. Just hold on.”

  Eventually Aaron returned, wiping what Ben assumed were fake tears from his eyes.

  “Well, Ben, what are we supposed to do? We all gathered here expecting to play spellstrike, and now you’ve left us hanging. Surely you can think of some way to fix this?”

  Ben waited until Aaron was back with his team before speaking. He needed everyone within earshot.

  “I do have one suggestion actually,” Ben said, in a loud, clear voice. “A group duel. You and two others against myself, Charlie and Natalie.”

  Aaron frowned. “A group duel?”

  “Er, Ben?” he heard Charlie say.

  Ben stepped forwards, so he was standing right in front of Aaron, and looked up into his dark eyes. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” he said softly. “A chance to get one over me. To show everyone how much better you are?”

  Aaron showed no sign that he had heard Ben’s taunting. Instead, he gave Ben a friendly pat, and turned away, raising a hand with a flourish.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thanks to our friend Ben here, we have a change in plan. We are going to play a round of group duelling.” Aaron gave a quick look at his team, and pointed at two of them. “Damien and Joshua. You’re with me.”

  Joshua stepped forwards, with only a flicker of his customary resentment aimed at Ben. Damien was an athletic-looking third-grader whom Ben would have liked on his side.

  Someone grabbed his shoulder and spun him round before he could continue any sort of assessment.

  “Ben! Are you mad?”

  Ben turned and saw Charlie and Natalie staring at him in the face.

  “We can’t duel against them,” Natalie said, in a furious whisper. “They’ll floor us. We’ve never even duelled before. Have you even duelled before?”

  “No, but I’ve read a book,” Ben said vaguely. He glanced over and saw Aaron in deep conversation with Damien and Joshua. Meanwhile, an elf was busy scrubbing out the white circular line, and replacing it with a larger, rectangular one.

  “Ben, I wouldn’t care, if we had a chance,” Charlie said. “But Natalie and I don’t exactly excel in the spellshooter department, remember?”

  “I remember,” Ben said, turning back to them. “And do you remember what I said about you guys not doing anything? Well, I meant that. When the duel happens, just let them shoot you.”

  “Are you serious?” Natalie said. “That will make it three on one.”

  “Exactly.”

  Charlie scratched his head. “If there’s some logic behind this, I’m not following it.”

  Ben sighed, and lowered his voice, ushering the three of them closer. “I need this guy off my back. With everything that we have going on, I don’t have time to deal with him. I figure if I can beat the hell out of him, he’ll back off for a while and maybe give me some space.”

  “That does make sense,” Natalie said, nodding. “Except, if you really don’t want him bugging you, why don’t you just lose and be done with it? Then he will no longer see you as a threat.”

  “I did consider that,” Ben admitted, with honesty. “I know it’s a fault of mine and it’s silly, but I just can’t make myself lose intentionally.”

  “It’s an acquired skill,” Charlie admitted. “I’ll have to teach you one day.”

  Ben smiled. “Anyway, one way or another, this will be over soon, and we can get on with the real business of doing our apprenticeship and finding what needs to be found.”

  Ben heard footsteps, and turned. Damien had approached them.

  “Are you guys ready or do you need another few minutes?” he asked, without being pushy.

  “We’re ready,” Ben said, looking up. “Oh wow, what’s going on here?”

  The small crowd that had been watching on the sidelines had been let onto the battlefield, and now surrounded the large square, several people deep.

  “Aaron let everyone in,” Damien said, as they strode towards the middle of the square.

  “I can see. He likes an audience, doesn’t he?” Ben said, noting all the faces.

  “Yeah, well, that’s Aaron for you, isn’t it?” Damien said, with a cynical undertone that Ben did not miss.

  An elf was standing in the middle of the square, holding a bunch of pouches.

  “Gather round, players,” he said formally. He gave everyone a pouch. “Please empty your spellshooters into the pouches provided, and then pick up your duelling spells.”

  Ben took a pouch and, with some effort, extracted all the spells he had loaded. He then took three plain red pellets from the elf, and loaded them up.

  “In case you’re not aware of the rules, they are quite simple,” the elf said, continuing to dole out the pellets. �
��The area of play is one hundred feet by seventy feet of empty space. There are no obstacles or places to hide. Each of you has three pellets. These pellets are spellshooter neutral, which means the strength of your spellshooter has no effect on the nature of the spell. Should you be hit or step outside the game area, your body will turn red and you will experience a light flush. Remove yourself from the game immediately if that happens. If you run out of pellets, but there are still opponents in the game, you may try to catch incoming spells in your spellshooter’s orb. Doing this will allow you to utilise the spell as your own. Needless to say, the last team standing wins. Any questions?”

  Charlie raised a hand. “Yes – are we allowed to shoot ourselves and save ourselves a lot of bother?”

  His question received a ripple of laughter. Charlie went red, but didn’t have the courage to admit he wasn’t joking.

  The elf raised an arm. “To your positions!”

  Ben’s heart suddenly stepped up a notch. He turned and quickly walked towards the back of the game area, directing Natalie and Charlie to either corner, while placing himself in the middle. He noticed Aaron employing exactly the same strategy.

  The elf moved to the side of the field.

  “The game will start in three…"

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to do anything?” Natalie asked. “Charlie and I might be able to distract one of them.”

  Ben once again considered the possibility, but shook his head. “No, that’s okay.”

  “Two!”

  Ben saw Aaron, Joshua and Damien with their hands hovering over their holsters. Ben was fairly sure what their plan was. If he was wrong, this game would be over very quickly.

  “One!”

  “Good luck, Ben,” Natalie said.

  Ben tensed himself, waiting for the elf’s final call.

  “Play!”

  Ben heard the explosion of spells, and he dived to his left. The heat of a pellet skimmed his leg and for a second he thought he’d been hit, but his body didn’t light up. He rolled, and got to his feet, spellshooter in hand, just in time to see Charlie and Natalie glowing red, walking from the playing arena.

  Aaron was smiling; Damien was looking relaxed; only Joshua remained fully focused, his spellshooter trained on Ben.