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

by Victor Kloss

  He frowned. His stomach. He had a stomach! Which meant he had a body again.

  A soft, dry wind whipped around his legs, and he opened his eyes.

  He hadn't expected to be back in the museum, and he wasn't. He wasn't even in Taecia, and he was fairly certain he wasn't even in the same spiritual dimension.

  He was on a hilltop. The grass he stood on was brown and dead, but it was the sky above that made his body tremble. It was a blood red, with streaks of black ink staining the sky.

  He was in the void.

  The hilltop was just a clearing, a respite from a dead forest that surrounded him. The trees seemed to sway and make soft groaning noises, as if calling him, daring him to enter. It was clear there was nowhere to go without facing the very real prospect of death.

  But Ben had no plans on going anywhere, not until he could work out what was going on. Why was he here? How had he got here? He took several deep breaths to calm himself, but he couldn't even begin to get his mind in gear. He was still trying to come up with some sort of explanation, when he heard a rustle in the trees below. He spotted a flash of colour amongst the dead tree trunks.

  Someone, or something, was coming.

  Ben was far from defenceless in the void, and he immediately summoned a sword and prepared himself to cast whatever element of magic might suit the oncoming beast. At least he had the advantage of elevation. He waited for the creature to arrive on the hilltop.

  Two forms strode into the clearing.

  They weren't beasts. They weren't creatures, and they definitely weren't enemies.

  Ben lost control of the sword, and momentarily lost control of his legs. His heart, such as it was inside the void, almost gave out.

  It was his parents.

  Despite the time – had it been years? – they looked exactly as he remembered. His dad still had that same ridiculous moustache and raised eyebrows giving the impression he knew something you didn’t. His mum was smiling, her blue eyes sparkling. She broke into a run the moment she saw him. Ben wanted to run too, but his legs felt too wobbly.

  Given the size of the hill, his mum covered the distance impressively quickly, including the final few leaps that would normally be possible only on the moon.

  “Ben!” his mum said, throwing her arms around him and almost knocking him over. She sobbed unashamedly, and squeezed him so tight that Ben found it difficult to breathe. For his part, Ben struggled to keep himself together. His body was shaking, and he kept thinking he must be dreaming. After arguably the longest hug in history, she stepped back, her eyes wet and with a smile from ear to ear.

  “You've grown,” she said, holding him at the shoulders.

  “It happens to teenagers, dear,” his father said. “Now step aside, woman.”

  Greg gave him a slightly more manly hug, though no less affectionate.

  “What is going on?” Ben said. He was finding it difficult to speak. “Am I really here? Is this really you?”

  “Yes, you are really here,” Greg said. “Though your body is not. You are in the void, though I suspect you already know that. You are here because you activated my admittedly brilliant spell that was connected to the scabbard.”

  “The spell summoned you to us,” Jane explained. “Of course it would only work for the sword's Guardian. You have no idea how long we've been waiting for you.”

  “Two years, give or take,” Ben said with a rueful smile. “But why now?”

  “We could only harness the magic from Elizabeth's Sword through the scabbard, and you had to have physical contact with it,” Greg said. “Believe me, the spell we used to summon you here wasn't an easy one. But it was worth it.”

  Ben was just starting to come to terms with what was happening, and he found he couldn't stop smiling. He knew there wasn't really any such thing as weight in the void, but he still suddenly felt fifty pounds lighter. He was with his parents. The thought kept revolving round his head, making him feel a little giddy.

  “We don't have long,” Greg said, puncturing Ben's elation. “The spell we used to pull you here required an enormous amount of magic.”

  “So why am I here?” Ben asked.

  Greg's expression turned serious, or as serious as one could imagine with his quirky moustache and permanently upturned lips. “Do you have all the Guardians and their pieces of armour?”

  “All except the sword and the shield,” Ben said.

  “Don't worry about the sword,” Greg said with a wave. “You'll work out what to do. The shield will be difficult. Lord Samuel will be determined to prove that his piece was the most secure of them all.”

  “We know where the shield is,” Ben said. “And we are going to retrieve it soon.”

  “You will need all the Guardians to find the shield,” Greg said.

  “That's not a problem.”

  Greg nodded, and clasped Ben’s arm. “You've done so well, son. I cannot even begin to describe how proud I am of you.”

  Ben tried to smile, but his lips suddenly started quivering of their own accord. “I wish you had told me about all this earlier.”

  “That's my fault, not your mother’s,” Greg said. “I mistakenly thought you weren't ready to take on the role of a Guardian. Whether that is true or not, I should have at least introduced you to the Unseen Kingdoms and the Royal Institute of Magic, to give you time to prepare. I know it's a cliché, but we were trying to give you a normal life.”

  Ben couldn't think of a suitable response to that. He wasn't one to dwell on regrets of the past, and so much water had flowed under the bridge. Nevertheless, he couldn't help thinking how his life might have been if he had known about the Royal Institute of Magic, and his parents’ real jobs.

  Jane stepped back up to Ben, pushing Greg aside. Her eyes looked almost pleading. “We weren't made aware that the role of a Guardian was passed down to the youngest member of the family until after you were born. The thought of you going to face King Suktar was one we simply could not tolerate. It still terrifies me.”

  “I'm not mad about it either, but with the other Guardians, and Elizabeth's Armour, I think we have a chance.”

  “You'll be fine,” Greg said, his eyes burning with rare sincerity. “I know that now. I just wish I'd known it two years ago.”

  There was a momentary silence. His parents seemed content to stare at him, and Ben revelled in just being in their presence. He was so lost in the moment that he almost forgot about his parents’ own plight.

  “I'm going to rescue you,” Ben said. “Once we've taken out Suktar, of course.”

  “Of course,” Greg said with one of his trademark smiles. “We're just waiting for you, and getting rather impatient about it, I might add.”

  “Are you doing okay here?” Ben said. “I know the void is pretty harsh.”

  “We're doing fine,” Jane assured him. “It's not that bad, once you know the right people. Your father has seen to that. Do not worry about us.”

  Ben never thought he'd want to stay in the void, but at this moment, he dreaded leaving. He wanted nothing more than to stay with his parents.

  “Eight minutes,” Greg said, glancing at Jane.

  “What's eight minutes?”

  “It's been eight minutes since you arrived. The spell is only able to last a maximum of ten.”

  Even as Greg spoke, Ben felt a pull from his insides, as if someone had hooked him from behind and was trying to lift him up.

  “No,” Ben said, clenching his fists. He ground his feet into the hilltop, and willed himself to stay put. The pull lessened, but only a fraction.

  Greg and Jane recognised what was happening immediately. As one, they grabbed him in a three-way hug. The combined willpower of the three of them lessened the pull for a blessed minute, and Ben stood there, revelling in the proximity of his parents, trying to take in every last moment.

  But the pulling power soon increased, getting stronger each time. Ben struggled in vain, putting everything he had into staying.


  “Don't worry, Ben,” Jane said softly. She had a tear running down her cheek. “We'll see you soon, okay?”

  A hard yank almost jerked Ben away completely, and he became airborne, but Greg caught his hand, and looked up. He gave a roguish smile, one that Ben had been so familiar with.

  “Go kick some dark elf backside, Ben,” Greg said with a wink. “We'll be waiting for you.”

  — Chapter Twenty-Eight —

  Steel Shield, Level Four

  “Ben!”

  Natalie's voice came from a distance. It sounded like a faint echo. He heard shuffling footsteps, and then someone grabbed him. He became aware that he was lying on his back, and his head hurt. Had he fallen down?

  Ben opened his eyes, and found himself looking into the concerned faces of Natalie and Charlie.

  “Are you okay?” Natalie asked.

  Charlie extended a hand and helped him up.

  “How long was I out?” Ben asked, rubbing the back of his head. He felt groggy, like he'd just been rudely woken from a deep sleep.

  “Just seconds,” Charlie said.

  Ben suddenly became very awake. “Seconds? That can't be right.”

  But then Ben remembered that time in the void acted very differently to the real world. Hours there could be just moments here.

  “You touched the scabbard, then slipped and fell. The bang on your head must have knocked you out,” Natalie said, looking at him anxiously. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

  Ben rubbed a hand over his face. Thoughts of his parents were still wonderfully vivid, though the pain of leaving them hurt far more than the bang on his head. He wanted to tell Charlie and Natalie what had happened, but now wasn't the time. He glanced at the scabbard in his hand, feeling the small engravings on the fine silver.

  “So, I guess no alarm went off, then?” Ben asked.

  “Not so far,” Charlie said. He gave a tentative look at the exit. “But I think we should get out of here before our luck changes.”

  Ben stepped over the rope, scabbard in hand, and Natalie and Charlie followed. Now that he had the scabbard, he was as eager as Charlie to leave the museum.

  He was about to exit the small room, when he heard a faint noise in the distance.

  He stopped, and pulled out his spellshooter. “Did either of you hear that?”

  Their rapidly paling faces were all the answer he needed.

  Ben cursed softly. They stood still, ears perked, but no more noise was forthcoming. Was someone out there, waiting for them the moment they left the room? Suddenly, the museum seemed a dark, dangerous place.

  “Arm yourselves,” Ben said.

  “Wait!” Charlie whispered, grabbing Ben's arm as he made to leave the room. “What's our plan? We should have a plan if there are guards out there, right?”

  Ben nodded. “The plan is simple. If there are guards, shoot them.”

  “What if we get separated?”

  “Meet back at the Institute,” Ben said. “If any of us doesn't make it, we'll come back when the scabbard is secure.”

  “What if you don't make it?” Natalie said.

  “Then we're in trouble,” Ben admitted with a grim smile. “But we're getting ahead of ourselves. There might not be any guards out there at all. Now, you guys ready?”

  Ben took a deep breath and stepped out of the small room and into one of the grand exhibition rooms.

  Lined up at the end of the room, almost hand in hand, were the Old Guard, blocking their path. Their blue uniforms with diagonal sashes were impossible to miss. They stood calmly, clearly waiting for them with quiet composure.

  Ben whipped his head round. The same scene greeted him at the other end of the room.

  “Let's surrender,” Charlie said, staring at the Old Guard. “We've got no other choice.”

  “No,” Ben said firmly. “We surrender and we lose the scabbard.”

  “We don't exactly have a choice,” Charlie said, motioning vigorously at the Old Guard with his hand. “Look at them! There's a dozen each side.”

  “The odds aren't great,” Natalie said. Her green eyes blazed with a determination that matched Ben's. “But Ben's right – we need that scabbard, and I don't think they're going to give it to us.”

  Ben was already thinking ahead. He had a few stronger spells that he had been saving for Vanishing Street, but they would have to be used now. The only problem was, he didn't have enough for all three of them.

  Ben was thankful the Old Guard appeared ready to stand there and wait. It gave him time to think, and focus. He pointed his spellshooter at his chest and concentrated. A large blue and white spell started wobbling towards the barrel. Ben grit his teeth, and re-doubled his focus, blanking out the world around him. As soon as the spell reached the cusp of the barrel, he pulled the trigger. The spell that hit him was the size of a tennis ball. A sheen of what looked like metallic armour coated his body, before seeping into his skin.

  “What was that?” Charlie asked.

  “Steel shield, level four,” Ben said, feeling guilty that he had given himself such protection while the other two remained exposed. But he had to get that scabbard out of here.

  Charlie gave him an incredulous look. “I didn't know you could cast that.”

  “First time.”

  Ben waited for the justified accusations that they could not hope to match Ben's getaway without that sort of spell. Instead, he got two understanding nods.

  “Make sure you come and rescue us,” Charlie said with a weak smile.

  “We're all getting out,” Natalie said, giving Charlie a firm poke.

  There was no more point in waiting. The Old Guard still hadn't moved, but they weren't going anywhere, and time was ticking by.

  Ben moved forwards. Natalie and Charlie went left and right, spreading out, so that they would be more difficult to hit. He didn't run, not while they were out of range. Ben counted twelve of the Old Guard, spread across the room.

  Ben placed his finger on the trigger of his spellshooter. The stunning spells had an effective range of approximately thirty paces.

  He was still forty paces away.

  Ben tried to guess what the Old Guard would fire. Surely they would shoot to capture or disarm, rather than firing anything fatal. But one look at their stern faces, and Ben wasn't so sure.

  Thirty-five paces.

  Ben raised his spellshooter. The stunning spells weren't difficult to cast, but shooting several at once made it more difficult.

  Thirty paces.

  Ben pulled the trigger and unleashed a slew of spells. At that exact moment, the Old Guard raised their spellshooters as one, and fired. Suddenly, Ben was looking at a dozen spells whizzing through the air, coming right at him and his friends.

  Ben ducked and swerved, firing again in response. A spell shot passed him; then another. A third clipped him on the shoulder, but it made a metallic sound, and rebounded harmlessly off the armour he'd cast.

  Charlie cried out, and Ben flicked a glance over his shoulder. Charlie was down on his knees, but still firing gamely. Three of the Old Guard had detached themselves from the line, and were marching towards Charlie.

  Ben had to resist his natural instinct to turn back and help. The line was thinner now with those guards gone. He could see their faces clearly: there was no fear, despite the fact that he was running right at them.

  The spells were flying at him, and Ben took several more hits, without slowing. Two of the guards squared up to him, arms extended, realising the spells weren't doing anything. Ben feinted one way, and then, with a sudden burst of acceleration, aimed for a small gap between the two of them. They tried to grab him, but Ben had been expecting it, and surged past them like a rugby player breaking a tackle.

  Suddenly, he was in the clear.

  “No!”

  Ben barely had time to turn his head to see Natalie being jumped on by another guard. She twisted and fought, but was no mat
ch for the strength of the man. Again, Ben resisted the urge to stop, knowing it would be curtains if he did. He whipped round the corner, heading for the stairs. He could hear footsteps behind him, and saw another spell soar over his shoulder. He hit the stairs three at a time, bounding down them at such a pace that he almost lost his balance. He reached the ground floor, and sprinted down the hallway, adrenaline fuelling his muscles.

  The exit was just round the corner now. Would the door open easily? If not, he still had his portaler, though that would eat up valuable time. The footsteps behind him told Ben that they were still pursuing him, but he was faster than them. He almost slipped as he leaned into the corner like a motorcyclist at full tilt.

  The moment he saw the entrance ahead, he came to a skidding halt.

  Guards lined up in front of the door, spellshooters drawn. Ben's heart sunk. There must have been twenty of them, formed in two rows. He looked around desperately for another way out, but saw none. Ben tried to think, while taking in deep breaths. Just like before, the guards weren't moving, but this time that played against him. He needed them to come forwards and spread out, so he could get past them. Could he knock all of them out? Highly unlikely. His armour shield had already taken dozens of hits, and Ben could feel it weakening. Could he plead his innocence? Given that he was trying to make off with one of Elizabeth's possessions, as well as having knocked out countless guards, he was fairly sure that was a non-starter.

  Ben was still thinking of a solution when a handful of the guards moved forwards. They quickly moved into range, and fired. Ben ducked and returned fire. He felt one spell graze his shoulder and another hit him full on the leg. The shield sizzled and blinked out. Ben's leg suddenly felt numb, and he cursed.

  In that moment, he knew he wasn't going to escape. So he did the next best thing – he charged. With a cry of defiance, Ben half-ran, half-limped, firing like a maniac at anything that moved. Two guards went down. Three. For a moment, he thought he might be able to make it – there were fewer than half a dozen left blocking the door. But Ben took another hit to his shooting arm, and he lost the power to pull the trigger. He dipped his head, and charged like a rhino, bellowing like one too. Something solid hit him on the head and he was vaguely aware that he was falling.