Royal Institute of Magic: The Shadowseeker (Book 2)

Eric’s crass remark almost earned him a black eye, but Michael swallowed his anger. The truth was, Eric, like everyone else at the Institute, was still reeling from the Queen’s death.

Everyone except the Queen’s son.

It had been only five days since she passed away, and Michael still half-expected Elizabeth to return from the dead. She had done it before.

“I’m sorry, Director Rowe, but your forreck is not allowed in either,” Eric said. He had gone quite pale and was looking fearfully at the animal standing next to Charlotte. It was the size of a large tiger, with jet black fur, except for a white stripe that zigzagged down its back and covered its tail. The forreck’s eyes were like two brilliant sapphires, and they stared right at Eric with the sort of zen-like calm that reminded Michael of a cat.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. Though she was petite and almost doll-like in appearance with flawless skin and soft features, the steely determination in her large brown eyes and the five yellow diamonds floating above her shoulder made people stand up and take notice of the Director of Trade. Her hand stroked the forreck’s forehead, which came up to Charlotte’s shoulders.

“You wish to stop George from entering? That would not be wise. He may become angry if I leave him.”

Michael almost felt sorry for Eric. If he let the forreck in, he would face the wrath of Prince Henry. If he didn’t, he might face an angry forreck. As unpleasant as Prince Henry’s wrath was, Michael knew there was only ever going to be one outcome.

“You may pass,” Eric said, stepping aside, eyes still trained on the forreck.

“You’re too kind,” Michael said graciously, handing over his spellshooter with a mock bow.

Michael put his hand on the door but didn’t open it immediately. His good humour was momentarily replaced with a frown, and he turned towards Charlotte. “Be careful what you say when we go in. We could be in danger, especially if Prince Henry talks about you know what.”

“I will be on my guard,” Charlotte said.

Michael opened the door; Charlotte and George followed him in.

Prince Henry sat on a gilded chair in the centre of a spacious, exquisitely furnished room. The last time Michael had been in here, Queen Elizabeth had sat in the chair. It didn’t seem to suit the prince as well as it had the Queen; he sat awkwardly, his back so straight it was almost arched. Michael was again struck by how alike and yet different Henry was to his mother. He had the same curly auburn hair, hooked nose and peculiar gold tint in his eyes, but the calm, regal aura Elizabeth had was missing. Instead, his eyes seemed constantly narrowed, as if he suspected everyone and everything.

“Welcome, directors,” Henry said. His eyes went straight to the forreck and Michael saw the prince fail to mask a flicker of fear. “It seems I need a new guard, one that will obey my orders and not allow dangerous animals in my vicinity.”

“It is not Eric’s fault, Your Highness,” Charlotte said, with a small, but perfect curtsey. “It is safer for my forreck to remain with me.”

“I see.” The prince continued to regard the forreck, his lips pursed, fingers tapping the chair. “I believe it will soon be time to do something about forrecks. They are simply too dangerous to be roaming around.”

“They helped us win wars,” Charlotte said.

“Any animal that can best a dragon should be strictly controlled,” Henry continued, either not hearing Charlotte or simply ignoring her. “Yes, I will do something about that during my reign.”

Michael could sense Charlotte struggling to keep her temper. She made to reply, but Michael nudged her in the ribs.

“You summoned us, Your Highness?” Michael said, switching subjects.

Prince Henry finally looked away from the forreck. “Yes, I did. However, I was expecting all of you. Where are the other directors?”

“They will be here presently,” Michael said.

The prince nodded. “I would have called this meeting sooner, but I have been extremely busy since my mother passed away. As you know, my mother and I often had differences of opinion when it came to governing the Institute, and there were several occasions where we didn’t see eye to eye. One area in particular was her method for choosing her directors, the most senior of Institute positions, which should never be taken lightly.”

Prince Henry paused, and Michael knew the prince was trying to build the suspense, but, to his disappointment, neither Charlotte nor Michael reacted.

“With that in mind, I will be conducting a thorough review to establish whether you are still the most suitable choices as directors of the Institute.”

Michael had been expecting this and he remained impassive, though it didn’t make it any easier to take. Charlotte made a small choking sound, but to her credit managed to stay calm.

“Queen Elizabeth promoted me to Director of Trade ten years ago and I have never let her down,” Charlotte said. “I have opened up trade agreements with countless Unseen Kingdoms, which has helped the Institute flourish.”

Prince Henry gave a curt nod before Charlotte had finished speaking, and Michael suspected he wasn’t even listening.

“You two are the perfect example of my mother’s poor decision making,” the prince said, giving them a disapproving frown. “Your breeding, Michael, leaves much to be desired, coming from a poor baker family. And while you, Charlotte, are at least nobly born, I was always sceptical of having a woman in such a powerful position within the Institute. Indeed, the only director I am satisfied with is Lord Samuel.”

Michael could have made several choice replies, but they would only get him in trouble. Prince Henry was just as stubborn as his mother and his mind would not be easily swayed.

“We will endeavour to prove ourselves worthy of our position,” Michael said, giving a stiff bow. “Is there anything else you require of us?”

The prince nodded. “There is one other thing. My mother had an exquisitely crafted suit of armour that used to reside in this very room. Do you happen to know where it went?”

Michael feigned mild surprise. “No, I’m afraid not, Your Highness.”

Prince Henry ran a hand over his chin thoughtfully. “That is most peculiar. You are sure you haven’t seen it recently? I would very much like to have it. It has powerful magic that was specifically intended for my bloodline.”

There was an edge to the prince’s voice, and the gold flecks in his eyes seemed to glow for an instant. Michael was conscious of the guards surreptitiously putting their hands on their spellshooters, but unless they had death wishes, they wouldn’t act while George was still in the room.

“I will issue a search for it immediately,” Michael said.

There was a moment when the prince’s narrowed eyes tried to bore holes through Michael, but the Spellsword Director met the prince’s stare without flinching.

“Very well,” the prince said finally. “I will expect a daily report on your progress. If it is not found within the week, I will not be pleased. You are dismissed.”

Michael and Charlotte made their bows, and then left the throne room, with George in tow. When Michael was sure they were out of earshot from any prying guards, he started talking, quickly and urgently.

“Find the others. I need to see them before the prince does.”

“What are you going to do?” Charlotte asked.

“Each director needs to hide the piece of Elizabeth’s Armour they were entrusted with. It needs to be done today, before Prince Henry can sniff them out. You can bet he has people searching for the Armour already.”

“I have somewhere in mind,” Charlotte said. She scowled suddenly and clenched her fists. “I’ve never wanted to hit a member of royalty before, until today. I can’t believe how he insulted us.”

“I’ll deal with the prince,” Michael said, his expression darkening. “We can’t worry about that now. The Armour is far more important. It needs to stay safely hidden until Suktar’s return.”

They stopped by the double doors that led to the open gallery and the spiral staircase.

“I can’t believe we will have to face Suktar again. When do you think he will resurface?”

Michael shrugged. “It could be months, years or it could be centuries. Should that happen, it will be up to our descendants to re-unite the Armour to stop Suktar.”

Charlotte tugged her braid. “Centuries? The Institute may not even exist then, especially if we have many more Prince Henrys in command.”

“The Institute will survive. It has to.”

“What about our descendants?” Charlotte said. “We are asking a great deal of them. If they have to wait centuries, they may not even know about the Institute anymore.”

“We have to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Michael said. He gave a sudden grin, his eyes sparkling. “As for our descendants, we Greenwoods have a long history of getting things done. Whether it’s one year or five hundred, I’m confident my family will be able to re-unite the Armour and topple Suktar once and for all.”

“I wish I shared your optimism,” Charlotte said.

Michael put a friendly arm around Charlotte’s shoulder. “We Greenwoods are also optimists. You should try it sometime; it makes life a lot easier. Come, let’s get back to work. We have much to do.”

— Chapter Two —
The Wait is Over

Present Day

A sharp rapping on Ben Greenwood's door woke him with a start.

“Ben Greenwood!” His step-grandmother Anne's voice was even shriller than usual. “I don't know what you think you're playing at, but it's 7:36am and there's no milk in the house. You know how much I enjoy my tea while I watch the morning news. Is this some sort of cruel joke?”

Ben thought about trying to drown his grandma out by putting a pillow over his head, but her voice could penetrate a three-foot-thick steel vault. He sat up and yawned.

“There was milk last night when I checked,” Ben said, his voice croaky from sleep.

“That was barely enough for my Coco Pops this morning. How many times have I told you to keep at least two cartons in the fridge?”

“None,” Ben said softly to himself. Then in a louder voice he said, “I'll go get some, Grandma.”

“I need it in the next ten minutes, so get a move on.” She gave another rap on his door. “And stop calling me Grandma. Do you ever listen to me?”

“I try not to,” Ben said, making no attempt to keep his voice down.

There was a huff from the other side of the door and then some muttering – Ben heard the words “ungrateful” and “selfish” mentioned – before Anne headed back downstairs.

Normally Ben would go straight back to bed – after all, it was the start of the summer holidays and no self-respecting teenager would be up before 8am. But today was different. Today was special. Today was his first day as an apprentice at the Royal Institute of Magic.

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