The Protectors (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 3)

by Victor Kloss

  “Three on one,” Aaron said, clucking his tongue. “The odds are not looking great for you, Ben. If you want, I can—”

  Ben fired with such speed that Damien was glowing red before he even had a chance to react. His eyes widened, but he left the arena with good grace and a respectful nod towards Ben.

  “Rule number one,” Ben said. “Never monologue. It distracts people.”

  “I see that now,” Aaron said, regaining his composure with commendable speed. He nodded to Joshua, and they slowly moved away from each other.

  Ben stayed where he was, spellshooter aloft. The first one he knew would be easy, using the element of surprise. The next one would be harder. Would they come at him together? Aaron would want the victory for himself, surely. Ben kept his focus on Aaron, but his peripheral vision, and most of his attention, was on Joshua. He was on edge, and looked ready to fire. Ben tensed himself. Joshua was handy with that spellshooter, and his spells would come fast and true.

  “Now!”

  Aaron’s voice cut through the hushed silence.

  Time seemed to slow. Two red pellets exploded from Joshua’s spellshooter. Ben hit the floor and fired one in return. He felt Joshua’s first spell sail harmlessly over, but the second spell had been perfectly placed, anticipating Ben’s avoidance manoeuvre. It was coming straight for his face. Ben flung his spellshooter up in self-defence. By some miracle, the spell hit the centre of Ben’s orb and was absorbed. Ben stood – and promptly saw another spell coming right at him. He brought his spellshooter up with all the speed he could bear, and fired. The two spells collided inches in front of Ben’s face, the explosion of energy throwing Ben back, almost taking him outside the line. With some difficulty, he managed to keep his spellshooter trained on Aaron. A flicker to the right revealed Joshua was no longer in the arena.

  The crowd cheered the flurry of activity and there were shouts of encouragement for both sides.

  “Just the two of us,” Aaron said, with a smile. His expression was as cool as ever, but Ben could see a trickle of sweat running down Aaron’s forehead.

  They started circling each other slowly.

  Ben’s finger rested on the trigger, but he didn’t fire. He didn’t have the energy to shoot hard and true. He needed to stall.

  “You have one pellet left,” Ben said.

  “As do you. Why aren’t you firing?”

  “Why aren’t you?” Ben countered.

  Sixty seconds more. Thirty at least.

  “I know you’re tired, Ben,” Aaron said, in a voice that was so seductive it threatened to cast a spell all by itself.

  Ben didn’t reply. He couldn’t afford to waste energy.

  “I tell you what. I’ll count down from three, then we both fire. The quickest wins. What do you say?”

  Ben nodded. “I’m in.”

  Aaron adjusted the grip on his spellshooter.

  “Three.”

  Ben took a deep breath, and relaxed.

  “Two.”

  Aaron’s finger was hovering over the trigger, and for a moment Ben thought he was going to fire. If he had, there would have been nothing Ben could have done. Thankfully, Aaron remained poised.

  “One.”

  Ben brought the spell from the orb into the barrel. He watched Aaron’s lips, waiting for the word “fire”. He saw him place his teeth over his bottom lip, ready to utter it.

  Aaron fired even as he spoke.

  Ben was ready, and pulled the trigger in perfect harmony with Aaron. The two pellets exploded from their barrels, and passed each other in mid-air. Ben didn’t even bother trying to dodge, he knew Aaron’s spell would be far too quick, and he was right. The spell hit him right in the chest, and a light warmth spread through his body, as his entire body started to glow.

  He looked up. Aaron’s body was also glowing. Aaron’s body was red. Ben’s was blue.

  “We have a winner!” the elf said, stepping into the arena, pointing emphatically to Ben.

  A cheer went up – Ben didn’t know or care how loud – and he was suddenly swamped by friends, Charlie and Natalie amongst them.

  The arena had become flooded with people, and many had gone over to sympathise with Aaron, who Ben could see was clearly not used to accepting condolences. Ben managed to disentangle himself, and walk over to Aaron.

  “Come over for a bit of well-earned gloating?” Aaron said, somehow managing a flicker of a smile.

  Ben shrugged. “Not really my thing. I was actually just hoping we could put this whole competition thing past us, and move on.”

  For a minute, Ben thought he’d got through. He saw Aaron giving the matter genuine consideration. Ben desperately wanted to say something that might tip the argument, but nothing came to mind and, in that fleeting moment, the tide turned.

  Aaron laughed, with genuine humour. “Oh, Ben, you moron. Don’t you see? You’ve only enhanced it. Now I’m going to have to work even harder, and believe me, I will. No, you go and enjoy your victory; it will not last long.”

  Ben didn’t have the energy to find a sensible reply, if one even existed. He turned and walked away. He had made less than a dozen steps, when he heard Aaron’s voice again.

  “Ben!”

  Ben stopped, and turned.

  It didn’t seem possible, but in that small fraction of time, Aaron had somehow assembled the core group of his spellstrike team.

  “When are we rescheduling the game for?”

  “The game?”

  “Our game of spellstrike that we were supposed to play. I understand that you couldn’t make it happen today, but there is always next week.”

  Aaron’s penetrating voice had now attracted the attention of many, who were all focused on Ben, waiting for a response.

  Ben pinched his nose. How was he supposed to build a team for a game he knew nothing about? The idea of forfeiting crossed his mind, stronger than ever, but Ben’s stubborn streak kicked in.

  “I need four weeks,” Ben said.

  “I’ll give you two.”

  “Three.”

  Aaron smiled. “Done. And remember, please feel free to come over and use my training facilities. I have a feeling you’ll need them.”

  There was a ripple of laughter, louder this time. Aaron was suddenly enjoying himself, and Ben could almost feel Aaron’s ego taking over the arena.

  Aaron twirled his spellshooter and holstered it expertly. “Well, Ben, if we’re done here, my team and I should probably get to work.”

  Ben waited a moment, and then smiled. “I’m not done.”

  Aaron raised an eyebrow, but for a blessed second was lost for words. Ben quickly cast his eye over Aaron’s team.

  “William, Damien, Simon,” he said. “I’m making a team and I need some good players. You guys interested?”

  Aaron frowned, his good humour evaporating. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Ben ignored Aaron and focused on his three prospects. He knew William was the key, and could already see Damien and Simon glancing his way.

  A full five seconds passed, in which Ben tried silently to will them to join. Ben couldn’t afford to prioritise the game over Elizabeth’s Armour, and knew that, unless he got help, his chances of forming a team went from minimal to zero.

  “I’m in,” William said, with a nod, and he calmly walked over to join Ben.

  Damien watched William go, and promptly followed.

  “Hell, why not?” Simon said, and hurried after the two big apprentices.

  Ben waved a confused Charlie and Natalie over, and instructed them to stand side by side.

  “We’ve got six now,” Ben said, staring Aaron in the eye. “Looks like you need a few more players as well. We’ll see you in three weeks’ time.”

  Aaron gave him a hard stare, all humour and social pretence forgotten.

  “Three weeks,” he said. “We’ll be ready. Now, get off my battlefield.”

  Ben gave him a casual salute, and he and his team marched out of the b
attlefield to spontaneous applause. Ben’s smile lasted the entire walk up the stand until they exited the stadium and found themselves back amongst the rolling hills. William, Damien and Simon bid them farewell, leaving the three of them alone once more. For a while, they just stood there, enjoying the silence, which was broken only by the autumn breeze. Then they started a leisurely walk back to the D’Gayle house, where they could pick up a taxi.

  “I can’t believe it’s all over,” Charlie said. “It feels like I should still be worrying about something.”

  “Well, we still have three pieces of armour to get – the sword, the shield, and the breastplate – as well as two Guardians,” Natalie said.

  “Not to mention rescuing my parents and taking down the dark elf king,” Ben said, staring hard into the distance.

  “Yes, yes,” Charlie said, “but can that at least wait until Monday? I need a break.”

  As always, thinking about his parents made Ben’s stomach knot, but he forced himself to relax. Charlie was right: they needed a break.

  “What’s that?” Natalie asked.

  To Ben’s surprise, she was pointing at his pocket.

  Something was moving inside it.

  At first, Ben had the horrifying thought that some animal had got into his trousers. His hand went down to his pocket and he patted it furiously.

  But it wasn’t an animal.

  Ben’s hand dove into his pocket and pulled out the offending object.

  It was the key, vibrating so furiously Ben couldn’t hold it still.

  “What is going on?” Charlie asked.

  “I have no idea,” Ben grimaced, holding both hands to the key in an effort to stop it moving.

  The key flew upwards with such force that Ben lost his grip. It hovered in the air, out of reach.

  “Oh no,” Charlie said, staring up at the key. It was still vibrating, as if hunting and sniffing for something.

  With a sudden buzzing noise, the key shot into the distance, sailing over the hills until it was just a golden twinkle in the sky.

  The three of them watched in astonishment until it was out of sight.

  “And there goes our one possible lead to the next piece of Elizabeth’s Armour,” Charlie said matter-of-factly.

  Ben was squinting into the sunlight, following the key’s flight path. “You think it might lead us to the next piece?”

  Charlie shrugged. “No idea, but it’s certainly the closest thing we have to a clue.”

  “Had,” Natalie corrected. “It’s now about half a mile away, and getting more distant by the second.”

  Ben rubbed his hands together. “Not for long. You guys ready?”

  “Ready for what?”

  “To track down the key, of course.”

  Charlie’s shoulders slumped. “What about our break?”

  “Temporarily put on hold,” Ben said, with a grin. “Let’s go.”

  A Message From the Author

  Thank you for reading Royal Institute of Magic: The Protectors - I hope you enjoyed it. I am busy working on book 4, which I am aiming to release in late Spring this year (2016). If you would like to stay in touch, please visit my website at www.royalinstituteofmagic.com.

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  Regards,

  - Victor