by Victor Kloss
Alex didn’t have the guts to look his way and Ben spat at him, though it fell well short. He got a thump on the back of his head for his trouble.
“Are you okay, Ben?” Natalie asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” His head was spinning, but he shook it off.
“If I were you, I’d stop chatting and start praying,” Elessar said, his eyes staring at the sun. “Your parents have less than ten minutes to show their faces.”
It was now noticeably darker and Ben was having to squint to see the hill below, though the dark elves seemed untroubled by the lack of light. Ben could have sworn the sun started to accelerate as if suddenly drawn to the horizon.
“This is it,” Charlie said, speaking softly so that only Ben and Natalie could hear. “If they don’t come now, we’re done for.”
“They’ll come.”
Charlie’s pale face looked on the verge of panic. “What if they don’t? I’m only fourteen. I don’t want to die. God, I’ve wasted my life. I haven’t done anything with myself.”
Ben wasn’t listening. His eyes were glued to the surroundings. Where were his parents?
“Your fate is starting to look rather bleak,” Elessar said, interrupting his thoughts. Ben stared at the disappearing sun with growing frustration.
Time was almost up, he realised. He continued to search for any sign of his mum or dad. Other than the occasional sprawling tree and the mighty boulders, the landscape was bare and unsuited to hiding or launching a surprise attack. The grass was thick, but would they really crawl all the way up the hill to avoid being seen?
Everyone now had their attention on the hillside, even the king. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Ben began to believe for the first time that his parents might not turn up. The thought made his legs unsteady and he almost lost his footing. They would never let him die without putting up a fight, so that meant his parents weren’t on the island. Had they been unable to find it? Maybe they didn’t get the dark elves’ message about the execution. It didn’t matter now. What mattered was they weren’t here.
The sun dipped out of view without the faintest sight of his parents. Elessar kept searching with a look of desperation, unable to accept defeat. Finally, he turned towards his king.
“You failed, Elessar,” the king said. Ben risked the burning sensation in his eyes. A subtle lowering of Suktar’s eyebrows was the only sign of his disapproval.
“I am sorry, Your Highness.” Ben had never heard Elessar flustered before, but his discomfort was scant consolation now. “I assumed they cared for their son’s life.”
“You assumed wrong. The king will not be pleased. Get rid of them all except the Greenwood boy and meet me back at the palace where we will decide a punishment suitable to your failure.”
So this elf wasn’t the king. Who then? The answer came to him immediately: King Suktar’s son. The prince his parents were accused of killing. If only Colin or Draven had been around! Not that it mattered anymore.
Elessar kept his eyes focused on the grass. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Are you certain you have Wren Walker under control or should I stay to make sure there are no further foul-ups?”
“I cast the spell on her myself, Your Highness. Not even Wren can break free on her own.”
“I hope not, for your sake.”
A small whirlwind appeared around the prince and his four guards. It intensified until they were lost in the vortex, the wind nearly sweeping Ben from his feet. As quickly as it had come, it disappeared, and the prince and his guards had gone.
“I really thought I understood humans, but your parents proved me wrong,” Elessar said, clicking his tongue. “Not everyone seems to care about their offspring. A pity for me and a pity for you, as your life is now at an end.”
Shock hit Ben like a blow to the face and real fear flowed through him for the first time. He tried to keep it from showing, but as Elessar drew his sword, testing its edge, Ben started shaking.
“I am eager to get home, so let’s not draw this out. Who’s first?”
Elessar spoke so casually it felt like a dream. Was this really happening? Ben wanted to pinch himself, but his hand was shaking too much.
“I am,” Ben said. Was that really his voice? He shuffled forward and knelt down, unsure who was controlling his body.
“How noble,” Elessar said, almost bored. ”Unfortunately, I need you alive.”
He grabbed Natalie and made her kneel. She struggled until Elessar’s purple gaze rendered her motionless.
Ben’s blood was pumping painfully in his ears. He leapt forward, but a steely hand from behind yanked him back. He screamed, but Elessar could have been deaf for all the response he showed.
Time seemed to slow. The sword swung forward, swiping towards Natalie’s neck.
A small silver sledgehammer cannoned into Elessar’s face, sending him flying ten feet into the air. There was a stunned silence and it took Ben a second to realise the hammer had been a spell. Ben turned, expecting to find his parents.
But it was Alex, his Spellshooter still pointing at Elessar’s fallen body.
— Chapter Twenty-Nine —
The Greenwoods
Ben was just as stunned as the surrounding dark elves. Conflicting emotions threatened to overload him. For a second he could have heard a pin drop.
The dark elves’ astonishment turned to fury and they turned as one to Alex. The cries came from every corner of the plateau and they charged. Alex was suddenly facing a dozen dark elves coming at him from all sides, swords drawn, hands pulsing with magic.
Alex fired another spell. This one arced over the oncoming elves and hit Wren, casting her in a halo of light.
“Get up, Wren!” Alex shouted, his voice containing only a fraction of the panic it should have.
Wren raised her head. The dazed look in her eyes vanished as she took in the scene and quickly got to her feet. She raised her hand and half a dozen tiny missiles launched from her fingers, whizzing their way to the dark elves. Ben saw a couple go down and a few more re-direct their charge towards Wren.
In the brief respite, Alex raised his Spellshooter and fired a spell into the evening sky. It exploded in a mighty shower of sparks like a firework.
To Ben’s amazement, a dozen missiles went off in the distance. They were heading rapidly towards the hill. Ben, Charlie and Natalie barely had time to shuffle under the stone roof when the spells hit the ground like an air strike. The noise was deafening. Dark elves and huge lumps of earth went flying into the air.
Coming up the hill, screaming as they charged, were a dozen Spellswords. The dark elves ran down to face the new adversary and suddenly the fight was even.
The hill was now a battlefield, with spells flying everywhere amongst cries of anger and pain. Ben feared for the Spellswords at close quarters against the elves’ swords, but they fired spell into their palms and blades materialised. Ben saw Alex fending off two elves with a sabre whilst engaging another in a shooting battle.
Ben wanted to help, but he was still bound. Even if he were free, what good could he do? He was completely useless here. It was maddening.
A tap on his shoulder diverted his attention from the battle and a moment later his bonds disappeared.
“Time to get out of here,” Wren said, her calmness in contrast with her appearance. Within moments she had also dispelled the bonds from Charlie and Natalie.
Wren led them down the hill, but they had barely left the plateau when a sparkling purple bolt streaked towards Wren’s head. She raised her hand and the spell hit an invisible shield, but Wren staggered as if remnants of the spell had penetrated.
“Going somewhere, Wren?” Elessar asked. He walked through the battlefield, heedless of the carnage around him, with two dark elves following in his wake. One side of his face was covered in blood. His normal arrogance and composure were gone, and his mouth was curled in a snarl.
“Take Ben, kill the others,” Elessar ordered. “I will
deal with Wren.”
Wren turned to Ben, her grey eyes betraying only a flicker of urgency. “Get out of here.”
Ben nodded as Elessar fired another bolt at Wren. She blocked it and stepped forward to meet him. The two other dark elves attempted to circle around Wren, but she fired two jets of gold at them without even looking. One dark elf went down, but the other dodged the spell.
“Oh dear,” Charlie said, staring at the remaining dark elf bearing down on them. The elf had his sword drawn and was walking carefully, his face grim. Ben, Natalie and Charlie were back-peddling down the hill, watching the dark elf get ever closer.
“Should we turn and run?” Natalie asked.
“No good,” Ben replied. “He will catch us.”
“What else can we do?”
Ben kept his eyes firmly on the dark elf. “Spread out. Give him three different targets to go for.”
They spanned out, still walking backwards. The dark elf gave each of them an appraising look, before altering his path to Ben.
“Now what?” Charlie asked.
“I’m working on it.”
The dark elf was no more than a dozen paces away and closing fast. Ben searched the hill for help, but all the nearby Spellswords were locked in battle.
Surely the elf wasn’t going to use that sword? Elessar wanted him alive. Ben’s only chance was surprise. He grit his teeth and tensed himself. As he was about to launch forward, his foot stumbled on something soft. He lost his balance and fell to the ground.
He had stepped on a fallen Spellsword. Ben’s horrified gaze went to the bloody, lifeless face. His Spellshooter lay next to him in the thick grass.
The Spellshooter.
Ben picked it up, aimed it at the dark elf and rested his hand on the trigger.
The dark elf’s eyes widened.
The spells inside the barrel instantly filled Ben’s mind. He could feel the power pulsing from the coloured pellets. They made the spells in Natalie’s Spellshooter look insignificant. While still back-peddling, Ben focused and pressed the trigger.
Nothing happened.
He tried again. Still nothing. The dark elf was now so close, his sword was almost within striking distance. Quelling his rising panic, Ben took a deep breath and cleared his mind. He summoned every ounce of willpower. Sweat pouring down his forehead, he willed the pellet to explode forth.
The barrel illuminated bright blue, but the spell still resisted. Ben screamed with effort and for a moment the pellet started floating down the orb. But before it could make it into the barrel, it ran out of steam.
Ben stared at the Spellshooter in desperation.
The dark elf lunged, aiming the butt of his sword at Ben’s head. Ben side-stepped and threw the Spellshooter at the elf with all the willpower and determination he had used moments earlier. The Spellshooter hit the elf full in the face and exploded. Ben was thrown one way, the dark elf the other. Ben scrambled to his feet, but the dark elf remained on the grass in a lifeless heap.
“Are you okay?” Natalie asked anxiously.
Ben nodded, his eyes searching the battlefield for another Spellshooter. There! He ran over and picked it up.
“We can use these to help,” he said.
“Are you mad?” Charlie asked. “You want us to run up to a dark elf, shove a Spellshooter in their face and then hope the resulting explosion doesn’t kill us?”
Natalie nodded, her green eyes anxious. “It’s too dangerous, Ben. Throwing a Spellshooter can make the spells inside explode. It’s a miracle you’re okay.”
Ben felt torn. He desperately wanted to help. There was fighting everywhere, with several bodies lying on the hill, as well as spells flying all over the place like a fireworks display gone wrong.
A stray fireball sailed over their heads.
“We’ve got to go!” Natalie said, grabbing Ben by the arm.
Ben was about to argue when he saw a flash of red in the distance. It came from a nearby hill. Ben squinted, focusing on a clump of rocks near the top. There it was again! It looked like a powerful torch being aimed at him.
Was someone up there?
“Ben!” Charlie’s voice was frantic. “What are you doing? Let’s go!”
Ben didn’t take his eyes off the hill. “Something is up there.”
They immediately stopped trying to drag Ben away and looked.
“My parents,” Ben said, his voice a whisper. As he spoke, he saw two unmistakable silhouettes on top of the hill.
Charlie suddenly forgot all about the battle. “Are you sure?”
Ben looked them both in the eye. “I’m positive. Follow me.”
Ben knew running would attract attention, so he resisted his natural instinct and maintained a steady pace down the hill. Several times Ben saw a dark elf spot them, but a Spellsword always cut them off. Gradually the sound of battle receded and they found themselves alone at the base of the hill.
“We made it,” Natalie said, her face lighting up.
Charlie was looking back up the hill. “I still feel like we’re going to be hit by a stray spell.”
The battle was still raging, but it was difficult to make out who was on top. Ben couldn’t see Alex or Wren; he hoped they were okay.
“Now what?” Natalie asked.
“Now we find my parents.”
Ben led them to the smaller hill and into a cluster of trees at its base. The branches hid what was left of twilight and they got their spell pouches out to help illuminate their way. Ben kept looking up, searching for the clearing at the top of the hill. His heart was thumping and sweat ran down his forehead. Were his mum and dad still up there? His stomach gave a lurch when he spotted the clearing and he raced the final stretch, bursting through the tree line at a sprint.
He stopped, breathing hard, eyes searching eagerly. There were a few scattered boulders much like the last hill, but everything was smaller.
There was no sign of his parents.
Ben scrambled up to the boulders and peered behind each of them.
“Where are they?” Charlie asked. He and Natalie had entered the clearing and were looking at him in confusion.
“They were here,” Ben said with a note of desperation, still looking, unable to accept defeat. Charlie and Natalie joined him, but there was little to search except the boulders. After re-checking each one twice, they went to the largest one and sat down disconsolately.
“They were here,” Ben said softly.
“We believe you,” Natalie said, and Charlie nodded.
“I can’t understand why they keep running.”
Neither Charlie nor Natalie had a suitable reply.
Ben’s eyes drifted to a nearby boulder. His parents could have been sitting there less than twenty minutes ago. There was a small stone on top of it that caught his attention. Ben could have sworn the stone had been black a moment ago, but now it seemed to have a dull green hue. He squinted. The more he stared at the stone, the brighter it became.
“What’s that?” Charlie asked. The stone was now giving off a green glow.
Hope surging, Ben sprung up and ran over. It was a spell pouch. They stared at it in amazement. Ben picked it up and held it close. He opened the drawstring. A small green pellet stared back at him.
Ben exchanged excited looks with Charlie, but Natalie wore a frown.
“Don’t touch the pellet,” she said.
Ben and Charlie looked at her in surprise. “Why not?”
“It could be booby-trapped. Some pellets activate on touch.”
Ben’s free hand hovered over the open pouch. “What are the odds of someone planting a trap for us here? The dark elves were busy last I checked.”
The more Ben stared at the pellet, the more he felt like taking it out. His hand started trembling and, before he knew what he was doing, he had delved into the pouch to pick it up.
There was a flash of blinding light and the world disappeared into blackness. Ben was floating, aware but without a body. His panic
subsided as an image materialised before him.
Another memory.
The colour and details were as rich and perfect as before. He was in a sumptuously decorated hallway with thick, red carpet, gold enamelling on the intricately carved wooden panels and magnificent portraits lining both walls.
Ben knew right away this memory wasn’t his. He was watching a scene unfold through someone else’s eyes. Before he could work out whose it was, the memory sucked him in and the world took over.
“Would you take a seat, Mr. Greenwood?” Lord Samuel asked with thinly masked impatience. “Your pacing is most off-putting.”
“My apologies,” Michael said, but he made no motion to sit down. “It is an old habit; I am used to being on my feet.”
Samuel made no attempt to hide his disgust, but the others didn’t seem to care; Charlotte even smiled, momentarily wiping away her troubled frown.
Charlotte’s anxiety was evident among all the directors, bar Michael. They sat on elegant chairs spaced generously against the wall, constantly glancing towards Queen Elizabeth’s royal suite. Any moment now her door was going to open.
Michael could guess his fellow directors’ thoughts because he shared most of them. Why had the Queen summoned them? Her visits to the Institute were increasingly infrequent; she was no longer young and the unrest back home kept her busy. Michael noticed Lord Samuel licking his lips. No doubt he was wondering what all were – was Queen Elizabeth going to resign her position as commander of the Institute? If so, who would replace her?
For Michael, the mystery of the meeting brought back fond memories of the day he had discovered the Institute. Was that really ten years ago? How times had changed. He had five green diamonds floating above his shoulder, making him senior to those lords and barons who had made his early Institute life so difficult. Now only a few, such as Lord Samuel, didn’t treat him as an equal.
Michael’s reminiscing was broken by the opening of the royal suite door. He felt his fellow directors stiffen.
A guard appeared. “Lord Samuel. Would you please come through?”
The chair creaked under Lord Samuel’s bulk as he stood up. He was clearly pleased that he had been called first and gave the others a pompous nod before disappearing through the door.