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

by Victor Kloss

  “Pods,” Ben said breathlessly. And he proceeded to recount exactly what they had seen on the streets of Croydon.

  Charlie and, more particularly, Joshua listened with increasing worry as Ben finished the story.

  “So that's why they're all here,” Joshua said. He turned to Charlie, but found he had scampered off into the shelves. He returned a few minutes later, with a couple of tattered books.

  “Unsurprisingly, nearly all the books on dark elf war tactics have been raided. But I hid these two books a while ago because I wanted to come back to them later.”

  Charlie sat down, and opened a book that looked as though it had been used as a play thing by a dog.

  “The Institute already knows a lot about dark elf pods, of course,” Charlie said, not looking up. “They have used them several times before in battles, though not as much in the Unseen Kingdoms, because people spot them, and chop them down before they can mature. But in the Seen world, they go unnoticed.”

  “I know I don't know as much as everyone else, but I'm confused,” Abigail said.

  Ben gave her a reassuring look. “You're not the only one. What are you talking about, Charlie? How do pods mature? What's inside them?”

  “Front line dark elf troops, known as Bloodbringers. They are maniacs, whose only real purpose is to cause mayhem. The bigger pods you may have seen will contain their steeds.”

  “But how did they get there?” Ben asked.

  Charlie shrugged. “Magic, of course. Nobody really knows. But if you can open the pods before they are ready, you can sometimes stop the dark elf from ever materialising. Sort of like a premature birth, I guess.”

  Natalie glanced around at the Scholars who were everywhere. “So what are they doing here now?”

  “Trying to work out how to open the pods,” Joshua said. “Each pod has a certain pattern, and can only be opened by a very specific magic source.”

  “That's right,” Charlie said, pointing at a paragraph he was staring at. “It says here that if you try to break the pod by force, it will explode. You have to hit it with exactly the right type of magic. I bet the Scholars are scrambling to find how to 'read’ each pod. They can only do that by looking at historical records, to see what worked the last time this happened.”

  Ben ran a hand through his hair. It was finally starting to make sense.

  “So how long until these pods mature? How long do we have?”

  Charlie looked up, his face grave. “Not long. Days.”

  Ben's legs felt strangely weak, and he slumped onto a chair.

  “Days? So the dark elves could potentially launch their attack in days?”

  “According to past records, yes,” Charlie said.

  Ben felt sick. No wonder the Scholars were running around like crazy people. “We still have ten days until we can get to Vanishing Street and find the shield. Let's hope war doesn't break out before then.”

  — Chapter Twenty-Five —

  Elizabeth's Museum

  Ten days. Ten days to find the last two pieces of armour and hope the dark elves didn't declare war.

  If Ben thought the Royal Institute of Magic was busy before, that was nothing compared to now. Members had been called in from every corner of the Unseen Kingdoms, as well as dozens of royal families, all with the aim of stopping the dark elf attack.

  The severity of the situation was summed up the very day after the discovery of the pods, during morning muster. Dagmar breezed in, an unmoving rock amongst the storm, and rattled off their names in double-quick time.

  “I have just one announcement, but it's an important one,” Dagmar said, addressing them all. “The apprenticeship has been temporarily suspended for the third grade and up.”

  There was a shocked gasp, which Dagmar silenced with a subtle movement of her hand.

  “First and second grades will continue as normal. The rest will report to the department you have been assigned to. As soon as the dark elf threat has been dealt with, your apprenticeship will resume.”

  The way Dagmar spoke made it sound as though the dark elf situation was a minor inconvenience the Institute would brush off in a few days’ time. Though completely misleading, Ben could understand the need not to alarm the younger apprentices. He almost felt a little better himself the way she said it.

  Unsurprisingly, Ben had been assigned to the Spellsword Department, Charlie to the Scholars, and Natalie, Diplomacy. As the Wardens had taken Joshua, the four of them had little time together.

  Every day that Ben went home, he would stare at the pods with growing frustration. There were now at least two dozen between the Dragonway station in Croydon and his grandma's house. He often saw Institute members inspecting some of them, and a few had been successfully destroyed, but there were still plenty around.

  Ten days became nine. Nine became eight. Ben spent every available second continuing his search for the sword, and working on deciphering the message hidden in his grandma's mind, but he made little progress.

  With just a week to go until their date on Vanishing Street, Ben found that he had a rare morning free from the constant demands of the Spellswords. He went to look for Charlie, to see if they could do any more brainstorming for the sword, and found him heading out of the Institute.

  “I need to get some documents from Elizabeth's museum,” Charlie said. “Layla thinks there are some old records of the original war with Suktar that might give us some more information on the pods.”

  “I'll come with,” Ben said. “I've got nothing better to do, and it will be nice to get out. We can walk and talk.”

  Elizabeth's museum was right in the heart of central Taecia. Ben had never been inside, though he had passed it several times. It was one of the first buildings the Institute had built upon Elizabeth's death, and stored many of her artefacts and treasures from her early conquests into the Unseen Kingdoms.

  The fact that the dark elves were intent on invading England made Taecia more of a safe haven, and that was reflected by how busy the place had become. The wide roads were packed with traffic, and Ben and Charlie were constantly having to dodge old cars and citizens of every race. Taecia had always been known as the multicultural capital of the Unseen Kingdoms, and now it was even more so.

  “Have you made any progress on the sword?” Charlie asked. “Either with the riddle or the numbers?”

  “No,” Ben said. “In fact, it's doing my head in. I keep going round in circles. Have you had any time to think about it?”

  “I've barely had time to breathe with the Scholars’ constant demands. And I'm still trying to research what's inside Lord Samuel's house, remember? That's proving more difficult than expected.”

  Ben wished, not for the first time, that Charlie hadn't committed himself to researching Lord Samuel's house. He felt lost without him.

  “I haven't a clue about the riddle,” Ben admitted. “To be honest, it's the numbers I've been more focused on. Twenty-three, seventy-one. I thought maybe they could be a pass code to a safe box in a bank. I've spent hours hitting up all the banks, but so far I've not got anywhere.”

  “That's a start,” Charlie said, as he just about avoided running into a couple of young elf children. “You need to be methodical about it, though. The library has a good reference book of all the banks and safe houses in Taecia. When we get back to the Institute, let's check it against the banks you've already tried, and make a list of those that you have left to visit.”

  They spent the rest of the walk brainstorming other possible answers to the pass code, until they reached Elizabeth's museum. It didn't have the grandeur or size of some of the London museums, but it was still a sight to behold, with turrets and towers, built with impressive stone craftsmanship. There were two large doors, both ajar, which let a steady stream of people in and out.

  Ben had always wanted to visit the museum and, with time to kill, he had intended to join Charlie. But during their walk, they had come up with
several banks Ben had yet to visit, and he thought it a better use of his time to continue his search.

  Ben turned to go, when he spotted a flash of something on the museum door that caught his eye. It wasn't immediately obvious what attracted him, and he stepped up to the door to inspect it further. It was a huge thing, befitting a museum or a small palace. Like most buildings in Taecia, the building was numbered; in this case there was a small panel on the door, on which were four iron-cast numbers: one seven three two.

  One seven three two.

  Ben frowned. He frowned some more. Then he gasped.

  “What is it?” Charlie said, spotting Ben staring with an open mouth at the door. “One seven three two,” Charlie said, inspecting the number on the door. His eyes lit up. “That's it! Twenty-three seventy-one backwards.”

  Ben's head was spinning, but he tried to stem his excitement. “Is it? Or is it just a coincidence?”

  Charlie stepped back to get a better look at the museum. “It could be a coincidence, but think about where we are. We're at Elizabeth's museum.”

  That is exactly what Ben had been thinking: Elizabeth's museum, where some of her oldest treasures, diaries and discoveries were housed. Could it really be that simple? Could his parents have hidden the sword in Elizabeth's own museum?

  “There's one way to find out,” Ben said.

  Ben hadn't been to many museums, but this one seemed very similar to the few he had visited. There were endless hallways lined with glass cabinets that housed everything from ancient documents and maps to old coins and larger treasures. Ben noticed a lot of nautical equipment, including parts of old ships, oars, even seemingly worthless pieces of rotting wood. Linking the hallways were vast rooms, with yet more treasures, and many had paintings of Elizabeth herself. What interested Ben most, though, was the early Royal Institute of Magic stuff. There were old-fashioned spellshooters with orbs that could house only a handful of spells, enchanted items and jewellery given to the queen from powerful members of the Unseen Kingdoms, and much more.

  “Where do we go?” Charlie said. Now that they were on the trail of the sword, his own task was temporarily forgotten. “Surely your parents wouldn't have stored Elizabeth's Sword in plain sight?”

  “I'm not so sure,” Ben said. “We should expect the unexpected. Let's work our way to the armoury section.”

  The museum was well signposted and it didn't take them long to find the armoury section, which occupied most of the second floor. Rows of armour, weapons and shields from the seventeenth century covered the walls and central display units. It was busier here, with much of the younger generation clamouring over the weaponry.

  Ben walked slowly, inspecting every sword closely. Though the museum was named after Elizabeth, it was clearly about the time period, and not just the queen. They were methodical, taking in every hallway and room. Ben wasn't exactly sure how he would spot the sword, but so far Elizabeth's Armour all looked relatively similar, and he was hoping the sword would be the same.

  The adrenaline that had first fuelled Ben when they entered started to wear off a little after half an hour of searching the second floor. There were many fine weapons, but nothing came close to striking Ben as Elizabeth's Sword.

  “It was a long shot,” Charlie said. “Though I have to admit, the fact that the numbers matched the door did excite me.”

  “And that it's Elizabeth's museum,” Ben said, clenching his fists in frustration. “Have we been over there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about there?”

  “Twice. Remember, we saw that giant ogling over that crossbow?”

  Ben was almost ready to concede defeat, when he saw it. The room was small and easy to miss, but not for lack of interest. There was a queue running outside into the hallway. But it was the sign atop the doorway that set his heart racing.

  Queen Elizabeth's Personal Possessions.

  “We've not been in there,” Charlie said.

  Ben and Charlie joined the queue. It moved slowly, and they eased forwards at a painfully slow rate, which only heightened their anticipation. Ben had run into so many dead ends he tried not to get his hopes up. After all, what were the chances that his parents would leave the sword here? It was clever, but surely far too obvious?

  It took fifteen minutes before they found themselves under the doorway, and moving into a small square room.

  “One at a time, no pushing,” a guard said.

  The back of the room was roped off, and people were huddled behind the rope, making it impossible to see anything. Ben spent several more minutes waiting for someone to leave, before he could replace them, and get a proper view.

  What he saw took his breath away.

  The queen's original chair that she used in the Institute's throne room dominated the small space. There were several tables, with her possessions from the days she ruled the Institute. Everything from her own spellshooter to old unused spells she had taken to battle during the first war with Suktar. There were clothes and jewellery from some of the most powerful Unseen Kingdom families, sent as gifts to appease the British Empire and hopefully stop the Queen's aggressive conquering campaign in her early years. Meticulous notes were made for each item, right down to the scrap of wood that came from the ship she had first discovered the Unseen Kingdoms in. There was an almost reverential atmosphere in the room, as if Elizabeth herself was watching over it.

  But there was no sword. Indeed, there was no armour at all.

  Ben tried to not feel too disappointed. He had known it was a long shot. Instead, he re-examined every item and its corresponding note, in the hope that he might learn something.

  Ben almost missed the item resting against the throne chair.

  It was a scabbard for a sword. Ben couldn't believe he hadn't spotted it before. Despite its age, the scabbard gleamed a polished silver and looked every bit as elegant as the throne chair it rested upon.

  Ben's heart almost jumped out of his mouth.

  It was undeniably the scabbard for her sword. Elizabeth's Sword.

  “What is it?” Charlie asked irritably. Ben was attempting to tap his shoulder while still looking at the scabbard, and ended up jabbing him in the cheek.

  “Look,” Ben said, redirecting his finger towards the scabbard.

  Charlie blinked. “That's funny, I didn't even notice it. You don't think—?”

  “That's the scabbard for her sword,” Ben said softly. “The design, the elegance and the craftsmanship are the same as the other pieces.”

  They both stared at the scabbard silently. Ben couldn't take his eyes away from it.

  “So, now what?” Charlie asked. “It's the sword we're after, not the scabbard.”

  “I know,” Ben said. “But the two belong together.”

  Ben felt a sudden urge to jump over the rope, and grab the scabbard. In a way he couldn't describe, the sword felt incomplete without the scabbard.

  “No,” Charlie said sternly, seeming to read Ben's mind. “It's too risky. You can't just go into a museum and take something; people will notice, especially a museum like this one.”

  But the more Ben thought about it, the more certain he became that somehow the scabbard was the clue they needed.

  The riddle came to him almost unbidden.

  “Find me last. I am not hidden,” Ben said softly.

  Charlie's expression softened, replaced by a sense of curiosity, and he rubbed his cheeks. “I had forgotten about the riddle.”

  The more Ben thought about it, the more excited he became, until it felt like his entire body was buzzing. He turned to Charlie, and found his friend similarly animated.

  “I think you might have something,” Charlie said softly. “Maybe the sword will only reveal itself when we have all the other pieces.”

  “And somehow we need the scabbard for the sword to appear,” Ben said. “Which is why my dad's numbers in the memory led us here.”

  “I h
ave to admit, it's possible,” Charlie said with surprising reluctance.

  Ben wanted to leap in the air and high-five something, but he was put off by Charlie's pessimism. “What's the problem? We just made a major breakthrough.”

  “The problem, Ben,” Charlie said, whispering, “is that now we have to steal that damn scabbard.”

  — Chapter Twenty-Six —

  Night-Time Break-in

  So, tell me about the museum's security,” Ben said, sipping a cup of tea.

  Ben, Charlie, Natalie and Joshua had escaped to Fuddleswell tea room to talk. The Institute was so busy the Diplomacy conference room was seldom free, and Ben was sick of spending so much time there. Plus, the tea room had the added benefit of serving up some of the finest desserts in Taecia. Ben had become so good at casting silencer spells, the table they sat on was almost as secure as the Institute.

  “The Old Guard,” Charlie said. “You might have seen a few when we were there. They wear a blue uniform with a diagonal gold stripe across their chest and gold lapels on their shoulders. They were Elizabeth's personal guards and were picked for their loyalty and intelligence by the queen herself.”

  “What do they do now?” Natalie asked. “Queen Elizabeth has been dead five hundred years, after all.”

  “They are responsible for guarding her property. She has many different residences throughout the Unseen Kingdoms. And there is the museum, of course.”

  “So we need to work out how to get past them in order to steal the scabbard,” Ben said, taking another sip of tea.

  “Not just them,” Charlie said, “but also the museum's magical defences. Alarms, spells, that sort of thing. It's not going to be easy.”

  “How will you get inside?” Joshua said. He had initially refused tea and cake, but had changed his mind at the last minute and was now onto his second slice of carrot cake. “If I remember rightly, the doors are pretty solid. I've heard they are also resistant to magic.”

  Ben waved a sticky bun. “Don't worry about the doors; I've got a plan.”