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

by Victor Kloss

  “We're using the metal detectors for the same reason anyone does,” Ben said. “We're looking for metal objects.”

  “Coins? Treasure?” Anne said, suddenly becoming interested. “This is my land, remember. Anything you find is mine, by law. So don't even think about stealing from me.”

  “We wouldn't. It's just for fun, Grand— …Anne,” Ben said.

  “Liar!” Anne said, giving Ben another poke. “Now, I'm going to go inside and watch you from my window. I want to see every treasure you find. If I deem it useless, you can have it. Got it?”

  “Yes, we'll do that,” Ben said, putting on a false act of disappointment, which seemed to satisfy Anne, for now.

  The screeching noise came just as Grandma Anne turned to head inside.

  “What on earth is that?” Anne said, instinctively looking up to the sky. “It sounds a bit like Charlie singing, but I could have sworn it came from—”

  Half a dozen purple spots materialised in the distance, scything through the sky at a rapid pace, high enough so that the people below could see little more than a purple blur, yet the screeches reached them even at that altitude. As they got louder, the noise seemed to go right through every pore in Ben’s body, hitting him with a sudden terror that made him want to collapse onto the floor and put his hands over his head.

  “That noise, it's horrible,” Grandma Anne said, her voice a little unsteady.

  Ben shook his head, and turned to the others. The terror was starting to take hold, but they were battling it with varying degrees of success.

  “Arm yourselves!” Ben said, whipping out his spellshooter. “Use the long-range ice arrows.”

  They were meant for the high-flying ptryads, but Ben figured they might also work for these things, whatever they were.

  Ben raised his spellshooter, and took aim for the beast at the front. Even as he watched them approach, he saw several blue streaks fire up from somewhere in the distance, and the beast at the back went down. Ben gave a grim smile. There were other Institute members not far off, it seemed.

  Ben risked a quick glance back at the others. Natalie and Charlie had joined their tips – they needed their combined strength to fire the arrow. Abigail was too young and inexperienced to warrant using her spellshooter outside the Institute, but she seemed least affected by the terror-inducing screeches. His grandma, by contrast, was now curled up in a ball, hands on ears.

  The moment he turned back to the sky, the animals came into range. They looked like small wyverns, with their long necks and elongated jaws – except that their purple skin was spotted with green dots. On each of them was a dark elf, one hand holding the reins, the other a sword, extended skywards.

  Ben focused on the beast at the front and, ignoring another piercing screech, pulled the trigger.

  — Chapter Eleven —

  Fight at Grandma's House

  The spell that exploded from Ben's spellshooter quickly formed into a six-foot-long arrow made of rock-hard ice. Ben fired twice more, and two more arrows followed. They flew upwards like a rocket, so fast they were a blur, with a blue, icy tail. All three arrows hit their target, piercing the beast's neck and its underbelly with such force that it took out the rider as well. The beast and the elf died long before they hit the ground. Ben quickly turned to the beast behind, just in time to see Charlie and Natalie's smaller arrow pierce the beast's wing. The wyvern started spiralling down, but the dark elf on top managed to stop it diving out of control. Ben, Charlie and Natalie watched with a mixture of horror and amazement as it descended.

  It quickly became obvious that the wyvern was going to land very near them.

  “Oh, crap,” Charlie said, taking a step back.

  The spotted wyvern was heading right for them.

  “Get to the house!” Ben shouted.

  He grabbed Anne, still curled up in a ball, and they sprinted to the back door.

  The beast landed with an earth-shuddering crash in the garden, just as they dived into the kitchen. Ben put Grandma down and ran to the window, which overlooked the garden.

  The wyvern was moving, but just barely. It was badly wounded, and curled up. Despite being a small breed, it took up a good portion of the space, flattening a couple of bushes in the process.

  For a moment Ben thought the dark elf atop the wyvern had died in the crash, for he lay slumped on the beast's neck. But after a second Ben realised he was whispering into its ear. The wyvern seemed to relax, and stopped squirming.

  The dark elf leapt off his steed, landing lightly on the grass. He was very much unharmed, and stood, back straight, sword in hand. He was tall and slender, with deep purple eyes that shone through his helmet. Those eyes slowly scanned the garden, until they arrived at the house and the kitchen window.

  The four of them stared right at the dark elf. The dark elf stared back.

  “I think he may have seen us,” Charlie said.

  Ben slapped the counter, and turned, barking out orders. “Abigail, you stay here and look after my grandma. You two, come with me.”

  “Outside?” Charlie asked faintly.

  “No, we're going to go upstairs and play a bit of Xbox,” Ben said, rolling his eyes.

  Ben took a deep breath, and then opened the back door and stepped outside into the garden. He stopped on the small patio just before the grass and drew his spellshooter. Charlie and Natalie, either side of him, did the same.

  “Stay behind me, but keep close,” Ben said softly. “Remember, he can't harm me with his dark elf magic. And don't attack him – let me do that.”

  Ben moved onto the grass. He had several spells ready, but none were fatal. He wanted the dark elf alive.

  The dark elf was already forming a ball of purple energy around his fist, which crackled and sparked with pent-up magic.

  Ben kept walking forwards, undeterred. The dark elf raised his hand, and a purple ball of fire soared straight towards Ben's chest. Ignoring the spell coming right at him, Ben fired his spellshooter. What looked like a long piece of rope shot out of the barrel and spun towards the dark elf. So focused was the elf on his own attack, and so surprised was he that it deflected harmlessly off Ben, that he didn't think to defend himself. The rope wrapped itself firmly around the dark elf, pinning his arms and legs together so that he fell down. The dark elf tried to respond, and the rope seemed to glow, but it held fast. Just a couple of months ago, Ben knew the rope wouldn't have been strong enough, but he'd learnt a lot since then.

  Ben stopped right in front of the dark elf, and extended his spellshooter, so that it was just inches from the dark elf's slender nose.

  “What are you doing here?” Ben asked.

  The dark elf stared back silently, full of malevolence, but clearly lacking any sort of fear.

  Ben lowered the spellshooter. The dark elf clearly didn't care for his own life – perhaps he knew it was forfeit now that he had landed on enemy soil. Ben looked around, and spotted the wyvern. He changed his target from the dark elf to the wyvern.

  “Tell me what you're doing here or the wyvern dies,” Ben said.

  The flicker of fear from the dark elf told Ben he'd made the right call. The fear lasted until Natalie gasped.

  “Ben! You can't do that. I won't let you.”

  Ben watched in despair as relief replaced the dark elf's fear. He lowered his spellshooter, shoulders slumping.

  “Natalie, please. I wasn't going to shoot him, but the dark elf didn't know that,” Ben said.

  “Oh, sorry,” Natalie said, her hand going to her mouth as she realised her mistake. “Try the threat again.”

  “Bit late now,” Ben said, turning back to the dark elf. He was still secure, but there was little more that he could do. How else could he make the elf talk?

  A swooshing sound cut short his thoughts. He turned, just in time to see a great eagle land next to them. Alex, the Trade Director, jumped off and landed on the grass.

  Ben couldn't
help smiling, despite the circumstances. He didn't get to see the Trade Director much, but Alex was just the sort of person Ben warmed to. He wore his customary Jedi-styled cloak, but this one was grey. His eyes were bright, and he somehow always looked like he was amused by something, no matter how dire things were. In one hand he held a spellshooter; in the other, he ran a gold coin between his fingers. Ben wasn't even sure Alex was aware of the coin anymore, it was such a habit.

  “Good job, Ben,” Alex said, flicking the coin up, and pocketing it, so he could give Ben a pat on the shoulder. “The others have all been shot down and dealt with. We're taking them back to the Institute for questioning. The clean-up operation is already underway. Fortunately, the wyverns were flying high, and most of the Seens who did spot them don't believe what they saw.”

  “What were the wyverns doing?”

  Alex shrugged. “Oh, the usual. Trying to cause mayhem, in preparation for their invasion. Enough of those spotted wyverns, if left unchecked, could turn an entire population into a gibbering wreck.”

  Alex clapped and then rubbed his hands together. “Anyway, enough of that. How are you guys doing? Are you all okay? I can't imagine one meagre wyvern and a dark elf would cause you much trouble.”

  “We're fine,” Ben said. “I need to handle my grandma, though.”

  “I'll leave that with you,” Alex said. He turned towards the wyvern and, before Natalie could get a word in, he fired.

  The wyvern vanished.

  “What did you do?” Natalie asked aghast.

  “Calm down,” Alex said. “He's still there; he's just concealed. Our wyvern team will be here shortly to pick him up. Right, I’d better get back to work. These dark elves are really starting to annoy me. I'm not even supposed to be here. I had a long-awaited date with Julia, and was just flying over to pick her up, when these wyverns decided to ruin it.”

  Without further ado, Alex walked over, and hauled the dark elf onto his shoulder, before dumping him rather unceremoniously onto the eagle's back. Alex sat just behind, so that he could hold onto the elf with one hand and the reins with the other.

  “Enjoy the rest of your weekend,” Alex said with a grin and a jaunty salute.

  The moment the eagle flapped its mighty wings and took off, it vanished from view.

  Ben's smile lasted until Natalie spoke up.

  “He's a bit unorthodox, isn't he,” Natalie said with a slightly disapproving frown. “Quite unusual for a director.”

  “I like him,” Ben said. “He was really good friends with my parents.”

  “Oh, I like him too,” Natalie said in an unconvincing voice.

  “Shall we stop talking about who we like and don't like, and go check on your grandma?” Charlie suggested.

  Ben cursed, thoughts of Alex forgotten, and immediately ran into the kitchen.

  He stopped dead the moment he saw her.

  She was standing upright, though Abigail was gently holding her elbow. To his surprise, she wasn't complaining, and she normally hated anyone touching her.

  He saw immediately why. Her face was deathly white, her eyes wide.

  “She's okay,” Abigail said softly. “She just needs a moment to come out of shock.”

  Ben fingered his spellshooter. He knew what he had to do, but something stayed his hand.

  “Those things,” Grandma said. Her voice was soft, and it took a minute for Ben to realise why it sounded different – there was no antagonism attached. “That was an elf, wasn't it? I saw it through the window.”

  Lucidity was the absolute last thing Ben had expected from his grandma right now, but he found himself nodding.

  Anne shook her head slowly, and a strange look crossed her face, one that Ben couldn't immediately place.

  “Elves – that reminds me of—”

  The spell hit Grandma, and she collapsed onto the floor.

  Ben turned and, to his horror, saw Charlie with his spellshooter extended.

  “I'm sorry, Ben, you were taking too long,” Charlie said. “The memory wipe needs to be cast as early as possible. The longer you wait, the more damage it can have on their mind.”

  Ben knew Charlie was right. He should have fired it the moment he saw her.

  And yet… and yet, Ben couldn't help feeling that his grandma was about to say something meaningful for once.

  — Chapter Twelve —

  Grandma's Surprise

  It was obvious nobody else had been paying attention to his grandma when she had spoken, and Ben decided not to tell anyone about it for now. He certainly didn't want to upset Charlie, who was just going by the book. He took his grandma upstairs and laid her gently on her bed, knowing she could be out for a while.

  The wyvern clean-up crew arrived remarkably quickly and managed to get the animal back on her feet. They flew her back to the Institute to see if she could be re-trained.

  “I suppose we should continue with the metal detecting,” Charlie said without any enthusiasm.

  The four of them were sitting on the patio, staring at the garden, their minds elsewhere. The good mood from the morning had vanished.

  “Yeah, we should,” Ben said. Nobody moved. Ben's mind was still on the raid, and he was certain the others were thinking about it too. Thanks to Dagmar, Ben knew how real the threat of the dark elf invasion was, and how soon it would happen, but until this sudden terror-filled flyover, the idea of a war still seemed unreal. Not anymore. The dark elves were coming, and they were getting increasingly bold about it.

  “They won't openly show themselves yet,” Charlie said, speaking to nobody in particular. “They still want to launch a surprise attack. If the dark elves revealed themselves now, the government would have time to prepare.”

  “But they'll still do nasty things like this,” Abigail said.

  “Yeah. Over the next couple of months, I bet they’ll find all sorts of ways to scare people, without anyone having a clue what's happening.”

  “There has to be something we can do,” Natalie said, tugging on her hair.

  “I'm sure the Institute are working on it,” Ben said. “Right now, they can only stop the raids as quickly as possible. But the prince and the executive council are trying to warn the government and the royal family, without freaking them out. I just hope they succeed in time.”

  Ben wandered over to one of the metal detectors and started it up. Charlie reluctantly followed suit, and they resumed their search. It took them a good hour, but they found nothing. Ben wasn't surprised. Looking back at all the ingenious ways in which the previous pieces of armour had been hidden, the garden seemed rather lame, especially for a couple as creative as his parents.

  Anne finally woke from the memory spell the following morning. Ben was downstairs eating cornflakes when he heard the trademark clumping of her cane on the stairs. Ben looked up as she entered, and noticed immediately that she was wearing different clothes. Any look of shock or puzzlement that had existed yesterday was absent, replaced by her traditional scowl.

  “Morning,” Ben said with a smile.

  “My head is hurting,” Anne said. “I need you to make me some tea, and get me some painkillers.”

  “No problem,” Ben said.

  Anne gave a suspicious look around the kitchen. “Where are your friends?”

  “They left last night.”

  “Good,” Anne said. Then she scratched her long nose and a clouded look came over her. “What day is it?”

  “Sunday. My friends were over here yesterday, on Saturday.”

  “I know what comes before Sunday, thank you,” Anne said, though Ben could see the confusion in her expression. She left and wandered over to her favourite chair, sitting down in front of the TV.

  Ben quickly finished up his cornflakes and grabbed his spellshooter. He focused, placing a hand on the orb. Yes! He had a couple of memory trances – only weak ones, but they might just do the trick. He glanced over at his grandma, who was almo
st hidden in the chair except for the top of her permed hair which stuck out above the seat.

  A flash of doubt hit him. He knew he should leave his grandma's memory alone for a few days, to let it recover from the wiping spell Charlie cast. The Institute had been very firm about that when they handed out the spell. But Ben couldn't afford to wait that long; he had to know now. Yet uncertainty nagged at him. Were Grandma's odd comments really enough to act on? Ben had his doubts, but, at this point, he couldn't afford to turn away even the weakest lead. He was sure Anne had been about to say something relevant. He remembered her words exactly: Elves – that reminds me of— and then Charlie's spell had hit her. Reminded her of what? It could be something as silly as elves reminding her of Christmas or it could be something far more significant. Either way, he needed to know.

  Ben walked quietly into the lounge. Anne was glued to the morning news, and probably wouldn't have noticed him if he had gone in doing star jumps, unless it blocked the TV. He skirted around Anne's armchair, until he was adjacent to her and had a target to aim at.

  Ben had one final moment of doubt. He was being selfish again, and he knew it – putting his own priorities in front of others. He hated himself for it, but he was committed now. More importantly, he was sure the spell wouldn't harm her. It was a weak one, and lasted only minutes. He knew all the rules to make the spell as gentle as possible, and wouldn't force anything his grandma didn't want to see.

  Ben raised his spellshooter, focusing a little more than usual. Memory spells were not his strong suit, and he had little experience with them. Even though the spell was only level two, Ben still struggled to make it move down the orb, and he felt a small bead of sweat trickling along his forehead as he pulled the trigger. A small white spell hit Anne's chest, and she immediately zoned out, her eyes becoming distant.

  Ben turned to face her head on, his heart suddenly moving up a gear. He didn't have long before the spell wore off, and he needed to act fast. At the same time, he couldn't go in with the difficult questions straight away; he needed to build up to them. Now he wished he had paid more attention to his Diplomacy lessons.