The Silver Dwarf (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 4)

by Victor Kloss

  “Oh, don’t look so miserable,” Natalie said, reading between the lines. “You’ll both be fine, no matter what you choose.”

  Natalie’s words cheered Ben a little, but as he glanced down at the Institute handbook on his lap, he found himself strangely reluctant to crack on. With such a big step finished, it was sometimes hard to start the next one. His mind was already turning to something even more important than the apprenticeship and, with the common room temporarily empty, now was a good time to bring it up.

  “We need to focus on the next piece of Elizabeth’s Armour,” Ben said. He wasn’t sure why he spoke so softly; there was nobody in the room, but it felt appropriate.

  “Yes!” Natalie said, clapping her hands with unexpected exuberance. “I’ve been wondering when you would bring that up. What are we going to do about the dark elf symbol we found in that dwarf settlement? That’s our only lead.”

  “We need to find someone who can tell us what it is,” Charlie said. “And then, we have to hope that it somehow leads us to one of the pieces of armour.”

  “You don’t sound that optimistic,” Ben said.

  Charlie looked unusually downbeat, given that mysteries like this one normally had him bubbling. “I still believe that the key Winkleforth gave us was meant to show us something different.”

  “Like what?” Ben asked. “We searched the whole place – there was nothing else there, except for the dwarf mage, who wasn’t exactly forthcoming.”

  Charlie raised a chubby hand in defence. “I know. Right now, the symbol is our only lead.”

  Ben couldn’t help wondering if Charlie was trying to imply another possible solution, but what else was there? Natalie, however, was clearly more optimistic about the symbol than Charlie.

  “So, how do we find out about the symbol? I’m open to suggestions,” she asked.

  “Plompton,” Ben said immediately.

  “You what?”

  In all the hubbub of the apprenticeship and the War Room, Ben realised he hadn’t told Charlie and Natalie about his discovery of the small West Sussex town with an unusually high population of registered dark elves. He quickly told them now.

  “Wow, I didn’t know they let so many dark elves into the Seen Kingdoms,” Natalie said.

  “I guess if they are properly registered like all the other Unseens, it shouldn’t matter. Just as long as they’re not running around causing chaos,” Charlie said.

  Ben took a bite of a bun he’d been holding out on. “The hard part is going to be finding them, as they will obviously be disguised as humans. I’ve already had a look at Plompton on the map. It’s not big, but it’s not exactly a village of five people.”

  “Well, we’ve always got spells, right? You can fire some serious ones now,” Charlie said.

  Ben gave him a look. “I can’t just whip up a spell out of nowhere to track down a dark elf. In fact, dark elves are much harder to track than your average goblin or troll. I would need a very specific spell, and I would need to practise.”

  “I’ll get you the spell,” Natalie said with a look of determination. “I feel like I haven’t done much recently, and you guys have been so busy.”

  “It won’t be cheap,” Ben said. “And I might need a few of them.”

  Natalie narrowed her eyes, taking up the challenge. “I’ll get you the spell. Stop worrying.”

  “Good. So we have a plan. Now let’s go have some more lunch. All this snacking is making me hungry again.”

  *

  Their plan, like most plans, turned out to take longer in practice than they would have liked. The third grade threatened to take over their lives completely and, as Natalie pointed out, it was a huge step up from the second. Dagmar was quick to drive that into them the very next day at muster.

  “The third grade can take anywhere from four to six months,” Dagmar said. With Georgia gone, there were now just five of them listening to her lecture, the rest of the apprentices having been dismissed. “What I do not like to see is slow starters, apprentices who barely move on their checklist for the first few weeks, thinking they are on some sort of holiday. I want you to start hard and fast. I will be reviewing your progress weekly and getting updates from all departments. Do I make myself clear?”

  If Ben thought Dagmar was making empty threats, he soon found out how wrong he was. For the next week, it felt like she was hovering over his shoulder every morning, whenever he had the Institute handbook open. To make matters worse, Natalie was just as busy and finding it difficult to get hold of the exact spell needed to track down the dark elves in Plompton. Ben, who had been so determined to start tracking Elizabeth’s Armour, found himself treading water just to stay afloat. If that wasn’t enough, they had to resume their studies at Barrington School, which ate up a few hours each day.

  Their crushing schedule might have continued indefinitely, if not for the events that happened the following Monday morning, on the way to the Institute.

  — Chapter Thirteen —

  The Dark Elves Advance

  Ben and Charlie entered the Institute headquarters in Croydon like they did every morning, and immediately ran into a crowd of Institute members huddled around the lifts. They were firmly shut.

  “What’s going on?” Ben asked, struggling to get a view of the lifts.

  “The Dragonway station is shut,” a Diplomat with three diamonds said. “Which can mean only one thing – a security threat.”

  Ben turned to Charlie in alarm, remembering the last time the lifts had broken down – a dark elf had emerged, causing absolute mayhem.

  “Should we come back later?” Charlie asked hesitantly.

  “They told us to wait,” the Diplomat said.

  Ben wasn’t a big fan of doing nothing, but there appeared little else to do. He put a light hand on his spellshooter for reassurance and waited along with everyone else.

  The lifts made a humming noise less than twenty minutes later. Ben’s heart gave a little lurch, and he saw several other people give a start. Clearly he wasn’t the only one who remembered the dark elf. To everyone’s relief, the lift doors opened, revealing nothing but empty seats. There was an audible sigh of relief, and the members started filing in.

  It became obvious something was wrong the moment the lifts re-opened underground and they started walking through the tunnels. Security was double the norm, and they were stopped and searched at regular intervals. The security room and the all-seeing eye on the arch seemed to regard Ben far longer than usual, before he was allowed through to the station. Then their dragon was late. When it did arrive, Ben noticed with some alarm that it had a large gash along its scales.

  Unsurprisingly, people were talking, the rumours were flying, and they all centred around one topic.

  A dark elf strike.

  Ben and Charlie spent the entire journey listening to conversations, but it was clear nobody really knew what had happened, and wouldn’t until they arrived at the Institute.

  Nearly everyone on their dragon disembarked at Taecia. The majority of them were members, and started a hurried walk up the hill to the Institute.

  Normally Taecia was bustling with life in the morning, with the pubs and restaurants doing a roaring trade, capturing those who wanted to eat before work. But today, the shops and restaurants were shut, and it was eerily quiet. The citizens who were about were almost outnumbered by the Wardens and Spellswords Ben spotted, clearly on security duty and watching the citizens with a suspicious eye.

  Ben’s concern grew as he neared the Institute’s front gates, which were manned by double the guards. Members hurried in, scrambling to find news.

  “Guys, over here!” Natalie said.

  Natalie was standing just inside the entrance, a little to the side, so as to avoid the members streaming in. Abigail was by her side, with an expression of innocent bemusement.

  “What’s going on?” Charlie asked.

&nbs
p; Natalie had small bags under her eyes, which looked slightly red. Ben had never seen Natalie look anything but flawless before.

  “Dark elf attack,” Natalie said in a sombre voice, almost as if she was telling a secret that she didn’t want anyone to know. “It’s been mad here. My parents dragged me in at 5am and I’ve been helping the members trying to re-establish order.”

  “I’ve never seen it like this before,” Abigail said with wide-eyed wonder. “Does this happen often?”

  Charlie looked around furtively, as if expecting a dark elf to jump out of nowhere. “Where did they attack?”

  Before she could answer, a deep voice called out from the Institute front entrance.

  “Muster as usual for the departments and apprentices,” a large pot-bellied Scholar said. “Do not be late.”

  “Come on,” Natalie said. “I’m sure Dagmar will know more than I do. My parents would hardly tell me anything. Nobody else will either for that matter. They are either too busy or maybe they are under orders.”

  They had to squeeze their way up the busy marble staircase, before exiting on the first floor, and heading straight to muster. Many of the apprentices had already arrived, and there was a tension in the air. The younger apprentices were looking around in obvious confusion, but the older ones seemed to realise that something was clearly wrong.

  Dagmar flew into the room just seconds before nine o’clock, like a woman on a mission. There were several restrained gasps the moment she turned to stand behind her desk and face them. There was a large gash running from her chin to her right ear. It had clearly been magically healed, but the skin looked raw. Any pain or anguish she might have felt was typically absent, and she looked every bit as calm as usual, her steely gaze scanning the stunned apprentices without a flicker of concern.

  “Muster,” Dagmar announced, as if it were just another day.

  Names were rattled off a trifle quicker than usual. Once finished, there was an expectant silence – Ben wasn’t the only one wondering what Dagmar was going to say.

  Dagmar walked round to the front of her desk, baton in hand. “I have just spent the last half an hour being briefed by the executive council on what exactly you should know,” Dagmar said. “However, I abhor anything that avoids the complete and total truth.”

  She stopped for a moment. Ben was torn between cheering her sentiment and wishing she’d keep talking. He wasn’t the only one. He could see several of the older apprentices leaning forwards in anticipation.

  “Last night, the dark elves declared war on the Unseen Kingdom of Olag,” Dagmar said with typical understated simplicity. “It was conquered this morning. At the same time, the dark elves launched a sneak attack on a small town in southern England called Broomfield. That was also taken.”

  Despite Dagmar’s reputation for strict discipline, the apprentices all started talking at once, until she raised a small hand, cutting them off.

  “The attacks were made simultaneously to confuse us. Olag was a significant invasion, and we made them pay for taking the kingdom. Broomfield, however, was taken on the sly. There are still several thousand men and women completely unaware that their town has been conquered. They will know soon enough.”

  Questions erupted from the older apprentices, and it took Dagmar almost ten seconds to regain silence.

  “You want to know why I’m telling you this. It is because, as apprentices, you live in a cocoon, unaware of what is happening in the outside world. I don’t believe this is helpful. Even if there is little you can do at present, it will very much be your business if you gain your Institute membership.”

  Dagmar focused primarily on the front line of apprentices – the ones who might soon become members.

  “The threat from the dark elves is real. It is very real. Slowly they are taking the smaller kingdoms, but they now have the strength to hit some of the bigger ones. If they do, we are looking at full-scale war, only this time, there is no Queen Elizabeth to save us.”

  Ben could have sworn Dagmar’s gaze flickered to him, but it happened so quickly that he couldn’t be sure.

  “I will allow three questions before dismissal,” Dagmar said to everyone’s surprise. Ben counted at least forty hands – including his own – that were suddenly thrust into the air.

  “How is this going to affect us?” a burly grade five asked from the front row.

  “As little as possible, for now,” Dagmar said. “You will continue with your apprenticeship, though I will be encouraging some of you to move faster, especially those close to graduating. We need more members.”

  To replace the ones who were lost? Ben wondered.

  “Security will be tighter all over the Unseen Kingdoms, but that shouldn’t affect you. As long as you display your apprenticeship diamonds, you will be fine. Next question – yes, Ben Greenwood?”

  Ben was so engrossed in Dagmar’s reply, he had almost forgotten his hand was in the air. His throat suddenly felt dry. He hadn’t even thought of what to say, and suddenly there were almost two hundred apprentices staring at him expectantly. Ben shook himself and asked the first question that came to his head, though certainly not the most important.

  “Were you involved in combat yesterday?” Ben asked.

  Ben thought she was going to say it was none of his business, but after a moment she gave a nod.

  “I often join the Spellswords if resources are needed,” Dagmar said. “I took a spell to the face. I was fortunate that Wren was by my side at the time or else I would not be standing with you now.”

  Ben knew he should probably be displaying some sort of empathy, or even sympathy, at her near-death experience. But something far more alarming was ricocheting through his head. Dagmar was a Guardian. Without her, and Elizabeth’s Boots under her charge, they would never make it to Suktar. Ben tried in one intense gaze to convey that thought to Dagmar, but she had already moved on.

  “Yes, Simon,” Dagmar said, turning to Ben’s ginger-haired spellstrike team member.

  “What happens if we have a full-scale war? Will we get to fight?” Simon said with a manic grin. “We could do some serious damage.”

  “Let us hope it doesn’t come to that,” Dagmar said. “There has been no full-scale war that didn’t cause misery, pain and much loss. I have witnessed several.”

  Ben frowned at Dagmar’s last comment, and he saw several others do the same, but she dismissed the gathering before anyone could brave a further question.

  They left muster and headed to the common room, but it was rammed with apprentices busting out their books and chatting away like only teenagers could.

  “Let’s go outside,” Ben said to Charlie and Natalie.

  They looked at him inquisitively but didn’t argue, and he led them down the grand staircase, and outside to the Institute gardens. Ben circled round the building until they were well out of sight of the main paths. He glanced around for any guards – saw none – and plonked himself on a bench. Natalie and Charlie joined him.

  Ben slouched so far back that his neck rested on the back. He stared up at the blue sky, and took a deep breath. He could feel Charlie and Natalie looking at him, but neither spoke. Ben felt awful. Somehow, with the spellstrike game and then the apprenticeship, he had almost forgotten about the dark elves. Why hadn’t they dedicated more time looking for Elizabeth’s Armour? They could be that much closer to finding Suktar and stopping the destruction he was spreading.

  “There’s nothing you could have done,” Natalie said, her voice gentle.

  “Natalie’s right. It’s not like we could have gathered all the pieces and the Guardians, and defeated Suktar. We need more time.”

  Ben sat up, and ran a hand through his hair. “I know. I just feel that we should have been working on it more.”

  “When?” Charlie said. “I’ve been with you the whole time. We’ve been working our backsides off these last few weeks.”

 
“Was that the right move, though?” Ben said. He rarely experienced self-doubt, but he was feeling it now. “Could we have spent a little less time on the apprenticeship, and a bit more researching Elizabeth’s Armour?”

  “Possibly,” Charlie said with a shrug. “But I believe we needed to do that work to pass the apprenticeship, to stay in the Institute, and have any chance of finding the armour.”

  “Anyway, what’s done is done,” Natalie said with finality. “We need to look forwards, not worry about the past.”

  Ben shook himself, and slapped his own cheek. “You’re right. I don’t know why I keep thinking about the past – I don’t usually do that. I just can’t help thinking there was something we could have done.”

  “There wasn’t,” Natalie said firmly. “So stop beating yourself up. Now, what’s the plan? You’re good at making plans.”

  Ben was still considering the question when he heard loud footsteps heading their way, accompanied by far softer ones. They looked up with varying degrees of alarm, and saw Dagmar and Abigail walking towards them.

  Ben’s first thought was that Dagmar had come to reprimand them – that they should be working on their apprenticeship, not bathing in the pleasant morning sun – but he discarded that notion the moment he saw Abigail.

  Dagmar stopped in front of the bench, her stern face a stark contrast to Abigail’s soft, honest expression.

  “I assume you came out here for privacy,” Dagmar said.

  Ben was thrown by the question, but recovered quickly. “Yes, we needed to talk without people hearing.”

  Dagmar nodded. “Good. You cast a silencer spell, I assume?”

  “Er, no.”

  Dagmar had her spellshooter out in a flash, and fired a spell into the air. A small, transparent dome formed around them, making the world outside shimmer. Abigail stared at the dome in speechless wonder.