Royal Institute of Magic: Elizabeth's Legacy Page 8

  They stared in mute astonishment until Ben felt tapping on his shoulder. He turned and found himself staring up at a large, friendly man with his hand extended. He looked like a Viking, with shoulder-length, blond hair, deep blue eyes and a frame you could build a house on.

  “Ben Greenwood?”

  The name attracted a few curious looks, not helped by the man’s deep, penetrating voice. Ben shook his hand and resisted the urge to grimace when it was half squeezed to death.

  “James McFadden,” he said effusively and then introduced himself to Charlie.

  “I know your father well,” he said. Ben wasn’t sure if he shouted because of all the noise or if he just had a loud voice. “Fantastic Spellsword, one of the best. Is this your first time here?”

  Ben nodded. He wanted to ask how well James knew his dad, but the big man was already moving.

  “Follow me,” he boomed. “I’ll show you the ropes.”

  They followed James into a glass corridor that ran behind the lanes and provided the only way in and out of them. Each time they passed an occupied lane James would shout out his commentary.

  “Frank, a fly could withstand the heat from your fireball – Amy and Jo, stop chatting and get back to work – Luke, stop watching Amy and Jo – Graham, clear your mind and concentrate or you won’t cast a damn thing.”

  They each gave him an evil eye, which James completely ignored. Eventually they came to an empty lane. James opened the glass door and Ben, Charlie and Natalie followed him through.

  The room was partially soundproof and shut out the cacophony from the spells in the adjacent lanes. The target at the end of the room was a good fifty yards away. Next to them, by the door, was a bookcase with four shelves. On each shelf there were three trays with coloured pellets Ben had seen in the orbs of the Spellshooters. Close up they looked even more remarkable, each one was a different size and shape. Some vibrated, others glowed and a few were transparent.

  “Spells,” James said, grabbing the shelf so firmly it jolted. “I won’t go into detail about how they’re made and packaged – the boffins downstairs can do that.”

  He took his Spellshooter out and pointed to each shelf.

  “The red spells are fire-based. Blue is water, green is earth and white is air. Combine them and you can cast every spell known to man.” He touched the top three trays. “Each tray represents the strength of spell. We classify them from a One to a Five. The Fours and Fives are too expensive for common practice so we don’t supply them freely.”

  James grabbed a red pellet from the top left tray. He pressed it into the surface of the glass orb. There was a moment’s resistance, then the pellet penetrated the orb and joined its friends, floating as if in water.

  “The spell doesn’t want to leave the orb. You have to command it to.” James tapped his temple. “The spell will resist, but if you concentrate it will obey.”

  James lifted the Spellshooter and pointed at the target. Ben expected a look of concentration, but James seemed almost bored as he pulled the trigger. Everything happened in a flash. The little pellet shot down the orb and disappeared. The barrel glowed red and from its tip a small red pellet exploded leaving a trail of vapour as it sped towards the dartboard, hitting the middle with a soft thud.

  “Concentration and will power,” James said again, holstering his Spellshooter. “The rest is a piece of cake.”

  Before they could say anything, James turned and shouted “CONCENTRATION!” to the adjacent lane. There was an explosion of spells going horribly wrong.

  “As you can see, they’re mainly beginners in here right now,” he said, grinning broadly. “Natalie is showing promise though. You should be ready for the Grade 1 exam soon.”

  “Thank you,” Natalie said. “I want to run through the Distraction List one more time before I take it. I don’t think I’m ready to face you yet.”

  “Nonsense,” James said, giving Natalie a clap on the back that Ben feared might dislocate something. “You can deal with me. I’m like a fluffy pussy cat for the Grade 1 exam. It’s a piece of cake.”

  “Of course it is,” Natalie said, giving James a smile and then rolling her eyes as soon as he turned away.

  To Ben’s disappointment, the demonstration appeared to be over. James led them back out, slamming his hand on each glass door they passed and screaming “WILL POWER”, all the while grinning broadly.

  They left, with Natalie promising James she would return soon to take her exam.

  “That was cool, right?” Natalie said. “But I think I can top it.”

  Ben, who couldn’t possibly see how anything could top that, followed Natalie with Charlie along the hallway and round the corner until they came to another door that said “Spell Training – Combat”.

  “You’ll like this,” Natalie said and she opened the door.

  At first glance the room looked similar to the last one. There was a high table surrounded by stools. To the right were the glass practice ranges, except there were just two and they were much wider. Only one was occupied and most of the people were watching the scene unfold.

  “Oh my god,” Charlie whispered.

  There was a fight going on inside the glass room. On one side was a big green thing that Ben, with his knowledge of fantasy limited to the Lord of the Rings movies, assumed was an orc. It was all muscle, with nasty, yellow teeth. In its hand was a spiky wooden club. On the other side were two Spellswords armed with Spellshooters, circling the orc warily. The orc was clearly confused, unsure who to strike. He bellowed in frustration and swung his club. The first Spellsword ducked and rolled, the club missing by inches. The second one fired some sort of blue spray, but it did nothing except annoy the orc who swung back round in anger and charged at his attacker. The Spellsword fired and a crescent moon-shaped shield blocked the club, but the sheer strength of the blow knocked the Spellsword backwards. He got up quickly, back-peddled and then fled in a mad panic. In the confines of the glass room, he was reduced to ducking, rolling and dodging. It was as if he were playing “It” with the orc, but instead of tagging the Spellsword, the orc was trying to club him to death. While this was happening, the other Spellsword was firing off a series of feeble spells that either spluttered into nothing or missed the orc completely.

  The crowd watching the display was laughing hysterically, except for one rotund woman. She was shaking her head, her thumb and finger pinching the bridge of her nose.

  “Help!” cried the Spellsword doing the running. “A little help!”

  The woman sighed and stepped into the glass room through the glass passage at the back. She raised her Spellshooter and fired. Something green hit the orc and it vanished with a pop.

  “Don’t worry, it wasn’t real,” Natalie said, seeing their reaction. “It’s just a spell that is able to replicate certain semi-intelligent creatures – useful for combat practice.”

  Ben watched as the woman berated the two Spellswords, though he couldn’t make out her voice behind the glass.

  “We should probably go,” Natalie said. “Kate is a nice lady, but seeing her pupils crash and burn can put her in a bad mood.”

  With great reluctance they followed Natalie out and back to the grand staircase, which they descended to the next floor. Ben was still buzzing, scenes of the orc fighting, spells flying, Spellswords ducking and rolling playing on repeat in his head. Had his parents undergone training like that? Could his mum really use a Spellshooter to battle big green monsters? He had an easier time believing in a flying horse.

  — Chapter Eleven —

  Dark Elves

  Ben couldn’t imagine anything topping the Spellsword Department and his opinion was reinforced when they reached the next set of double doors on the floor below.

  “Department of Diplomacy?” Ben said, giving Natalie a dubious look. Beneath the title was a symbol of a crown. “Is that as boring as it sounds?”

  “It sounds interesting to me,” Charlie said. He was too busy trying to se
e beyond the doors that he missed the smile Natalie gave him.

  Interesting it was not, when compared to the excitement of the previous floor. There were lots of lavishly appointed meeting rooms where negotiations between the Institute and many of the Unseen Kingdoms took place. There were bigger briefing rooms that reminded Ben of lecture halls and there were a couple of café areas, which only made his stomach growl.

  “The King of Treem was here last week,” Natalie said. “He had over a hundred people in his retinue. The apprentices were responsible for looking after them; it was mad.”

  Charlie started to ask a question, but Natalie gave a little gasp and stopped, thrusting her arms out to stop them. Ben heard it a fraction after she did – voices coming from round the corner. The language was foreign, unlike anything he’d ever heard.

  “Backs to the wall,” Natalie whispered urgently, slamming her own back so hard it made a slapping noise. “Stare at the floor, quickly.”

  Ben and Charlie did so just in time. From the corner of his eye, Ben saw a small group approaching. He strained his eyes to get a better view. There was a man wearing a black suit with five blue diamonds hovering above his shoulder, but it was the others who caught Ben’s eye. They were tall but slender and walked gracefully, each with a sword strapped to their waist. Their faces were so pale they were almost white, their ears were pointed and their shoulder-length, silver hair was tied back. They wore a purple uniform, except for the one in the middle. He wore a cloak that seemed to blend in with the background.

  Charlie gasped loudly and Ben saw Natalie grimace from the corner of his eye.

  The fabric! Ben felt it in his pocket. The properties were identical. Ben resisted the urge to look up, instead straining his eyeballs until they ached. Closer they came, until they were within touching distance and stopped just as they were about to pass by.

  There was a small intake of breath and a clicking of the tongue.

  “Well, well, what’s this? A Greenwood? Let me look at you.”

  The voice was soft but compelling and Ben found himself looking up at the speaker. His eyes were purple and seemed to glow. His skin was so tight he looked skeletal.

  “You didn’t tell me their son was here, Colin,” he said, not taking his eyes off Ben.

  “We didn’t think it relevant, Elessar,” Colin replied. His voice reminded Ben of royalty, pronouncing every syllable with exaggerated clarity. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit and reminded Ben of a banker or a lawyer.

  “Not relevant? You have the son of the traitors who have brought our two great empires to the brink of war. He may have knowledge that could aid our search.”

  “The Executive Council is meeting this evening to establish exactly that,” Colin said.

  “Good,” Elessar replied. Ben’s head was starting to hurt from the purple stare; it seemed to bore into his skull. “However, I fear our methods of extracting information will be more fruitful than your own. We can delve into the very deepest subconscious and still leave the subject mostly intact.”

  Ben felt his anger bubbling. He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t get his vocal chords working.

  “We can discuss such matters at the Executive Council after our own investigation,” Colin said. His face was calm, his response unhurried.

  Elessar nodded and finally turned away, directing his intense gaze upon Colin.

  “I report to my king tonight. You must understand the dilemma I am presented with. My king is not unjust or vengeful, but he will wonder at young Greenwood’s freedom, given the tragic fate of my king’s son.”

  Free of the purple stare, Ben found his voice again. He was about to give Elessar a piece of his mind, but Natalie squeezed his wrist.

  “I understand your predicament,” Colin said, with what sounded to Ben like genuine concern. “Let us discuss it further in the meeting. I’m sure we can come up with something.”

  Elessar and Colin walked side by side and the others fell in behind. Ben watched as they filed into one of the meeting rooms. There was a click as the door shut behind them.

  “That was close,” Natalie sighed. “Sorry for grabbing you, but if you had backlashed it would have been a diplomatic nightmare. Things are really tense right now with the dark elves and it doesn’t take much to insult them. The department of diplomacy has given all apprentices an exact code of conduct so we don’t accidentally mess things up. It generally consists of keeping our heads down and speaking as little as possible.”

  “Who was the fellow with the strange cloak?” Charlie asked.

  “Elessar. He is the General of King Suktar’s army. He is a dark elf of great power. I have never seen him close up before.”

  Despite Natalie’s warning, Ben felt a strong urge to burst into the room and ram his fist into Elessar’s face. Instead he pulled out the piece of fabric and handed it to Natalie.

  “I found this in my parents’ house the day they disappeared.”

  Natalie stared at the cloth. Her mouth slowly opened as its significance dawned on her.

  “Before we jump to conclusions, do you know if anyone else uses those camouflaged cloaks?” Charlie asked.

  “No,” Natalie said softly, as if the elves might hear them through the thick walls. “The dark elf officers are famed for them.”

  “Well, that’s one mystery solved,” Charlie said. There was a sudden energy about him and he looked as if he wanted to start pacing around the hallway. “We know it was a dark elf officer, possibly this Elessar, who came after your parents.”

  “We should get out of here so we can speak freely,” Natalie said, casting an anxious glance at the meeting room door.

  Charlie and Natalie had to grab Ben and drag him back to the relative sanctuary of the staircase.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Natalie said, twirling a lock of hair with her finger. “But this doesn’t change anything to do with your parents.”

  “Why not?” Ben asked, louder than he meant to. “This proves that they came after my parents.”

  “True,” Natalie said. “But I bet the Institute already knows that. The dark elves probably claim they came looking for your parents to bring them to justice.”

  Ben ruffled his dishevelled hair and kicked the ornate banister to vent his frustration. “This is so unfair, it’s a joke.”

  “We know that, Ben. Wren said she is convinced your parents are innocent and I believe her. But the Institute can’t prove it yet.”

  Ben didn’t share Natalie’s confidence in the Institute. Charlie, however, had a small smile on his lips.

  “Ben, you may not have realised it judging by your mini tantrum, but this is actually good news.”

  Ben looked at him, confusion suppressing his anger.

  Charlie punched his fist into his hand. “We have a lead,” he said, trying to contain his excitement. “For the first time, we have something to go on.”

  Charlie’s enthusiasm was infectious and Ben’s anger started to fade.

  “A lead?” Natalie gave them a serious look. “I know this might seem like a game, but this is serious Institute business.”

  Charlie was taken aback, but Ben met her stare with his own. “This is my family we are talking about.”

  Natalie softened. “I’m sorry. I know how much this means to you and, of course, you want to do everything you can. But you must trust the Institute. However well-intentioned your help may be, it will only interfere with the Institute’s search for your parents. Please promise me you won’t get in their way.”

  Ben gave her his most sincere smile. “We promise,” he lied.

  Natalie seemed to buy it. “You should show that fabric to Wren. It might help them somehow.”

  “Good idea,” Ben said, slipping the fabric back in his pocket. He would have to watch what he said in front of Natalie from now on. Would Wren also expect them to sit back and do nothing? He hoped not. He had a feeling fooling her would be a good deal harder than Natalie.

  Natal
ie led them down the stairs to the next set of double doors, which read “Department of Trade” with a picture of a gold sovereign below.

  “This department will take your mind off the dark elves, I promise,” she said.

  The statue in the hallway beyond the doors was of a pretty woman by the name of Charlotte Rowe. She had a Mona Lisa smile and held a small pouch.

  “A woman,” Charlie said. He immediately turned bright red when he realised what he had said. “Which isn’t bad, quite admirable, in fact; I just thought in the sixteenth century…”

  “You’re right, it was unusual,” Natalie said, putting an end to Charlie’s flustered explanation. “But remember, it was Queen Elizabeth who appointed the first directors. Charlotte Rowe was a unique woman. She was the first to learn Elvish and established many valuable contacts.”

  Charlie looked ready to continue the boring history lesson so Ben walked quickly to the nearest door, which read “Trading Centre”.

  “This is where most of the action happens,” Natalie said. “You can wander round by yourself. The only rule is: never stop. If you stop, they assume you are listening, which is forbidden. It might be difficult, but keep moving, no matter how slow.”

  They opened the door and Ben was immediately hit with a wall of noise. Voices of every pitch and volume clashed with an energy that set Ben’s hair on end. The place was packed with people seated at huge wooden tables spanning the entire room. Everyone seemed in an animated discussion with the person opposite. It looked like a busy lunch room but instead of food there were documents and papers on the tables. On one side were Institute members, identified by the yellow floating diamonds on their shoulders. On the other side was the most fantastic array of people Ben had ever seen. There were elves – Ben was getting used to them – but he never realised they came in such variety. All had the pointed ears, smooth skin and delicate features, but the similarities ended there. Some were tall and big as men with loud voices and fiery eyes; others were slender and spoke so softly Ben could barely hear them. Some wore earthy green garments that looked like someone had hand-knit them, others wore expensive uniforms and wore beautiful jewellery. There were small, stocky dwarves and lumbering giants, towering over everyone and making the benches creak. There were fairy creatures, fluttering their wings while talking with every bit as much gusto as those around them. For the most part, English was spoken, but there were other languages that the Institute members seemed equally fluent in.