The Last Guardian (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 5)

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The Last Guardian (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 5) Page 5

by Victor Kloss


  “I will be back presently,” he said.

  They watched in surprise as Arnold stood up.

  “Let us find somewhere private to talk,” Arnold said.

  Ben couldn't believe his luck. He followed Arnold to the door, trying to conceal his exaltation. Finally! This was his chance to speak to Arnold in private.

  The gruff voice from the other side of the door sliced a knife through his good mood. Ben looked up just as Draven came thundering through the door, alongside Wren.

  “Greenwood? What are you doing here?” Draven asked, coming to a juddering halt in front of them.

  For some reason, Draven didn't have that weary, bedraggled look evident in many of the senior Institute members working twenty hours a day. That might have simply been because he always looked scruffy, with his ragged beard, his nasty scar that ran along his chin, and his terrifying expression that was more commonly associated with an attack dog. Ben was comforted by the Spellsword Director standing next to Draven. She, too, looked untouched by fatigue, but that didn't surprise Ben one bit. She always looked agelessly perfect. Her fine silver hair was piled on her head, heightening her presence, in stark contrast to the diminutive Draven. She wore a dazzling green dress, matching the five green diamonds floating above her shoulder. >

  “It's okay, Draven. He came to see me,” Arnold said.

  “Can't it wait? We are far too busy to deal with trivial matters, especially a troublemaker like Greenwood,” Draven said, giving Ben an accusing look.

  “No, actually, it can't,” Arnold said calmly.

  Ben had to conceal his relief. Many people would back down against the sheer aggression of Draven, but Arnold appeared unflustered.

  “Really? What could possibly be more important than the imminent invasion of the dark elves?”

  “It's a personal matter,” Arnold said, keeping a completely neutral face that would have done Dagmar proud.

  Draven gave Ben a hard look, but he knew he was off the hook with Arnold backing him up. However, it wasn't Draven who made Ben's skin tingle and his stomach give a little lurch, but Wren. She was looking at him keenly, her grey eyes seemingly seeing right into his soul.

  “Is everything okay, Ben?” Wren asked.

  Of course. Ben had told Wren something of Elizabeth's Legacy, using the most general terms he could muster. He had been in a tight spot, and had had no option. He didn't regret it, but he had wondered more than once if she had done anything with that knowledge. Ben had told her little more than the fact that there were several families responsible for obtaining an artefact that could defeat Suktar. But, in the present circumstances, that was huge.

  “I'm fine, thank you,” Ben said.

  Wren smiled. “Just remember, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. I am always available.”

  Draven gave her an incredulous look. “Are you mad? You're almost as busy as me. How can you make yourself available like that?”

  “What I do or don't do is my concern, Draven,” Wren said calmly. She turned back to Ben and Arnold. “We won't disturb you two any further.”

  Wren and a very reluctant Draven moved aside so that Arnold and a now perspiring Ben could leave the War Room.

  — Chapter Eight —

  Arnold's Story

  Arnold led Ben up three floors to the Diplomacy Department. Ben noted that those members who weren't too busy talking or lost their own thoughts gave Arnold a respectful nod.

  They went through the double doors and started walking at a brisk pace until they reached a series of doors separated by just a few feet, indicating either one big room or lots of small ones.

  Arnold stopped by one of the doors. “Ignore the sign; it's one of the only secure rooms that is free right now.”

  Ben was thankful for the warning. The sign read “Enforced Negotiation Room #3.”

  There didn't appear to be any handle. Arnold extended his forefinger to the door, touched it lightly and turned. There was a soft click, and Arnold pushed the door open.

  True to the room's designated purpose, it was dark and uninviting. There were two uncomfortable-looking chairs separated by a small table.

  “Please, take a seat,” Arnold said, gesturing to one chair while he took the other.

  The moment Ben sat down, his heart seemed to double in speed. He hadn't given a good deal of thought about what to say, preferring to let instinct take over. But he remembered with some ruefulness how that had worked out when he approached Arnold earlier. He was determined to be more careful here, and think before he spoke.

  But Arnold beat him to it.

  “I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you earlier,” Arnold began. “As you may have seen, it's mad at the Institute right now, especially for Wardens. It's a bit of a nightmare to be honest, but we're doing as best we can.”

  “I totally understand,” Ben said. “I was hoping you might be able to tell me a little more about the incident where my father killed your brother. I can't stop thinking about why my dad would do such a thing.”

  Arnold gave a sympathetic nod. “I understand. It doesn't take a genius to realise what we told everyone wasn't the truth. Wren tried on numerous occasions to get it out of me, but I held firm, though it's not easy withholding anything from Wren.”

  Ben felt a thrill of excitement that threatened to lift him off the seat, but he managed to remain calm.

  “Do you know what really happened?”

  “Bits, but not all,” Arnold said. There was a flash of pain in his eyes, making him pause.

  Despite Ben's feverish excitement, he was careful not to rush him.

  “The reason for the fight had absolutely nothing to do with misplaced love,” Arnold said. “Frankly, I'm surprised that lie managed to stick, though Greg could be very convincing when he wanted to. Barry, Joshua's uncle, and I were good friends with your parents. But exactly a week before Barry had the incident with Greg, things started to sour.”

  Arnold stopped, and became reflective, as if he were pondering a sad memory.

  “He stopped coming out to dinner, and he stopped working on projects with us. He was pre-occupied, that much was obvious. But when I questioned him, he would say everything was fine. When I pushed further, he got angry. He even threatened me with his spellshooter once, though he immediately regretted it, saying I couldn't understand. I will always remember those words: you couldn't understand.”

  Arnold paused again, and Ben counted an impatient ten seconds, before nudging Arnold on. “Did you ever work out what he was talking about?”

  “Some of it,” Arnold said. “This much I know: Barry was persuaded to change sides. I strongly suspect the dark elves were responsible – that's what Greg said, and I believe him. Why the dark elves chose him, and for what purpose, I don't know.”

  Ben knew exactly why – the answer screamed inside his head so loudly he feared Arnold might hear. The dark elves were using Barry to try to get the sword.

  “That's interesting,” Ben said with remarkable calm given that his heart rate was going a mile a minute. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  Arnold nodded, and leaned forwards a fraction, so that his red diamonds were almost above Ben's head. “There is one more thing – Joshua knows more about this than I do. I am sure of it.”

  “He hasn't told you everything?”

  Arnold paused again, his eyes once more becoming distant, and sad, Ben realised. “We are not on speaking terms right now.”

  This was something Arnold was clearly not willing to elaborate on, so Ben tried another angle.

  “What makes you so sure that Joshua knows more than you?”

  “Several reasons. Firstly, he was there. I know he was young, but I also know that he has since used sophisticated memory spells on himself to re-live the incident. He has done this several times, most recently just last week. But that's not all. He's hiding something, I'm sure of it. I tried getting it out of him, and he as good
as admitted I was right, but stubbornly refused to say more. I feared the dark elves may have got to him as well, but thankfully that fear proved unfounded.”

  Ben's excitement waned just a fraction when he thought of Joshua. “We don't exactly get on either, especially when it comes to that incident. I was really hoping you'd be able to talk to him.”

  Arnold gave a sad smile. “I know you'll find this hard to believe, but you have a better chance of getting through to him than I do. Parents can be the last person their child wishes to confide in sometimes.”

  And sometimes it's the other way round Ben thought.

  “I can give it another go. The worst he can do is to tell me to get lost.”

  “Good,” Arnold said, nodding. “Do you know why I'm telling you all this? I'm not in the habit of revealing skeletons in the closet, especially when it's my family's closet.”

  “I'm not sure,” Ben said. The truth was, he couldn't believe how lucky he had been with Arnold opening up so freely.

  “It's because of Joshua,” Arnold said. “He needs help, I know it. Something is on his mind that has changed him. It's not just you he's been acting unfriendly to. He has lost many of his friends with his antisocial, unfriendly behaviour. I would really appreciate it if you could find out what it is, for both our sakes.”

  Ben saw then how much Arnold was hurting. His only son wasn't talking to him – but worse than that, Arnold knew there was something very wrong with Joshua, and Arnold was powerless to help.

  “I'll talk to him,” Ben said with a confident nod.

  Arnold gave a relieved smile, and extended his hand, which Ben shook.

  Now it was just a case of working out a devious plan to get Joshua to talk. Ben suspected he would have an easier time cleaning Thomas the wyvern blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back.

  — Chapter Nine —

  Akrim's Vintage Antiques

  I don't think we should approach Joshua in the Institute,” Natalie said.

  The three of them sat in their favourite spot in the common room. It was busy, but as they weren't talking about anything confidential for once, the common room was an easy, convenient place to meet.

  “Why not?” Charlie asked.

  “I just think the Institute seems to bring out the worst in him. I saw him at a coffee shop a couple of days ago and he gave me a smile, believe it or not.”

  “I believe it,” Charlie said, looking a little put out. “He was always trying to woo you when we first met, remember? He's changed a lot since then.”

  “Only in the last few months has he really changed, though,” Ben said. “His dad can confirm that. So what do you suggest? We go over to his house?”

  “No,” Natalie said immediately. “I don't even know if he's there right now. He stays at the Hotel Jigona with his parents a lot of the time. Trying to catch him there with his parents around would never work. I think we should try to catch him during his lunch hour. He nearly always eats out by himself now. I think that's our best opportunity.”

  “I like it,” Ben said. “Let's get him tomorrow lunchtime and beat whatever secrets he's hiding out of him.”

  “I like the beating part,” Charlie said.

  With a plan set in place, and the first bit of progress made towards the other pieces of Elizabeth's Armour, Ben was able to relax and switch off that evening for the first time in weeks, enabling him to sleep better than he had in some time.

  *

  He was so focused on getting to lunch the following day that he didn't even mind when Aaron had them spend an hour shovelling shit in the winged chimpanzee paddock, where they tried to avoid being thrown about by the “playful” animals.

  “My goodness, you do smell,” Aaron said, as he and Charlie finished up. Thankfully, Natalie and Abigail had been exempt. “Make sure you shower and change clothes before you enter the lunchroom, or else you'll ruin everyone's appetite.”

  Ben resisted the urge to gather a piece of chimpanzee pooh and fling it at Aaron's face. Instead he and Charlie rushed to their locker room, grabbed a change of clothes, then quickly showered and got dressed.

  Ben halted as they were about to head down the stairs and leave.

  “What's up?” Charlie asked. “Natalie's waiting for us outside.”

  “So will a couple of Aaron's lackeys,” Ben pointed out. “Remember how they love following me?”

  Charlie cursed. “I'd forgotten about that. What do you want to do? We're supposed to be following Joshua, remember? We can't afford to waste time losing Aaron's people or else we'll lose Joshua.”

  In response, Ben took out his spellshooter and, making sure nobody was looking, fired a spell into Charlie’s stomach.

  “What was that?” Charlie asked in alarm.

  “A tracking spell,” Ben said. “You follow Joshua with Natalie, and I'll catch up to you using the tracking spell once I've lost Aaron's idiots.”

  Charlie frowned, and then looked about with a worried expression. “That was risky, firing a spell here, with the Institute so tight on security.”

  “I know,” said Ben. “But it's only a level-one spell, so I'm hoping I'll be okay.”

  Charlie left Ben, and headed downstairs. Ben went to wait in the common room, figuring it was best not to hang around where he'd just fired a spell. The room was almost empty as most people had gone to lunch. He forced himself to wait at least five minutes, so that Charlie and Natalie would be safely clear, before heading downstairs.

  If last time Aaron had employed a pair of weasels, then this time it was a pair of gorillas. Both wore spellshooters, and neither made any attempt to conceal their intentions.

  “Where you going?” a deep, slightly slow voice said. You could tell Timothy was below average intelligence just by hearing him talk. “Your friends have left without you.”

  Ben stopped and stepped up to Timothy, who was a good head taller than him. “What's my destination got to do with you?”

  Timothy was clearly taken aback, and there was a moment of uncomprehending shock as he tried to compute Ben's words. He clearly wasn't used to people talking to him in such a manner.

  Ben grinned at him and his friend, Paul, who was only marginally smaller, but just as slow.

  Without warning, Ben sprinted out the Institute door.

  He must have made it thirty feet away before he even heard them respond in shock, and head after him. Ben ran through the Institute gardens and out the gate, getting a suspicious stare from the guards. He turned right and picked up the pace, so that he was flying through the streets, taking random lefts and rights.

  Timothy and Paul never had a chance. Even if they had started pursuing as soon as Ben fled, they would have had difficulty keeping up, without casting some sort of self-enhancement spell. But with Ben's head start, he lost them within minutes. Ben ran for a good five minutes, mainly for the exercise, before finally slowing to a walk. He checked behind him several times, but saw no sign of his pursuers. Satisfied he was alone, Ben focused on the tracking spell he cast on Charlie and immediately took a left, and picked up the pace again to a rapid walk.

  The tracking spell took him west, which was unsurprising. Some of the more upmarket restaurants were in the west district, and Ben could well see Joshua having expensive taste. The tracking spell gave him some idea of proximity to his target, so Ben was a little surprised when he got to the main eatery section and found that he was still a good few minutes away. His surprise increased when he passed all the restaurants, and kept going.

  It wasn't until he arrived at a quaint, cobbled street, lined on both sides with antique shops, that the tracking spell blinked out. Ben saw Charlie and Natalie down the street and hurried to catch up with them. They were standing outside Akrim's Vintage Antiques, looking surreptitiously through the shop window.

  “What's going on?”

  Charlie didn't take his eyes away from the window, but instead beckoned Ben to join them. Ben placed his
head against the window to get a proper look. For an antique shop, it was remarkably uncluttered, making good use of the space; the shop seemed to go on forever. In the distance, Ben could just about make out Joshua deep in conversation with a gnome, who Ben guessed to be the store owner. In his hand Joshua was holding what looked like a key.

  “Yes, it's a key,” Natalie said, confirming Ben's guess with her superior eyesight. “The shopkeeper gave it to him several minutes ago, and they've been talking ever since.”

  “So he came straight here?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah, which I was bummed about, as I was hoping he'd choose a nice café where we could grab something. Now we're going to go the whole of lunch without eating,” Charlie said.

  But the disappointment in Charlie's voice didn't match his obvious interest as he stared at the key in Joshua's hand. Ben was also curious about the key, but he was more interested in talking to Joshua.

  “Shall we go in?” Ben said. “The place is relatively empty – now is probably a good time.”

  They nodded, and Ben led them inside. The door rung a soft bell as they entered, indicating to the owner that he had new guests. However, he and Joshua were so engaged in conversation that the owner didn't seem to notice. This suited Ben perfectly as he was eager to hear what they were talking about. With a subtle nod, he directed them to spread out amongst the shelves. Ben chose the most direct route to Joshua that still gave him a little bit of cover from the right-hand shelf, which he could hug against if needed. The wooden floorboards were old but solid and made no sound as Ben crept forwards until he was within earshot of Joshua and the store owner.

  "…I'm sorry, Master Wistletop, but beyond the letter, there isn't much more I can tell you. Were my great-great-grandfather still around, I'm sure he could oblige you, as the one who originally safeguarded the key for your family. I honestly thought nobody was going to reclaim it, such was the time that had passed since it was placed under our care.”

  “I understand,” Joshua said. He felt his pocket, and Ben was fairly certain he was feeling the letter the owner must have just given him. How Ben would have liked to read it. From this distance, he could get a better look at the key, and he was impressed. It was an old-fashioned thing, cast in what looked like gold and studded with rubies. Ben had become pretty good at spotting enchanted items, and he suspected the key to be magical, in some shape or form.

 

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