Royal Institute of Magic: The Shadowseeker (Book 2) (2 page)

Ben sprang out of bed, heady with excitement. It had only been a couple of weeks since his adventures at the Institute, but when he had been told he would have to wait until the end of July to start the apprenticeship, it had seemed a lifetime away. Each day seemed to contain twice as many hours and he and Charlie had exhausted every possible subject on the Institute until there was nothing left to do but wait patiently. Patience was not one of Ben's strengths.

Suppressing another yawn – he had trouble getting to sleep last night – Ben threw on a pair of his newer jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He spent a moment in the bathroom taming his wavy blond hair. His deep blue eyes were full of life and showed no sign of his poor night's sleep.

Ben hurried downstairs. The kitchen was a mess again, filled with dirty dishes. The fridge was left ajar – probably from Anne's search for milk – and from it came an unpleasant smell. Ignoring the urge to clean up, Ben headed out to the corner store to get some milk.

It was 8:15am by the time Ben had returned and downed some breakfast. He went back to his room, preferring to keep his distance from his grandma and the blaring TV she had on. Charlie was due over in fifteen minutes and together they would set off to the Institute. Ben found himself checking the time every thirty seconds.

Ben couldn't decide what he was most looking forward to: the apprenticeship programme; the Unseen Kingdoms; the magic; the ridiculously cool dragon transport system; or the Institute itself. More significantly, he would have the chance to keep looking for his parents. They were out there somewhere. He was sure he had seen them during the final battle at the Floating Prison. Why they hadn't come back for him was still a mystery that constantly played on his mind, and he was determined to find out.

His thoughts were disrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. He pulled his mobile out and saw a text from Charlie.

“I'm outside. Can you come out? I'd rather not have another encounter with the devil (carefully disguised as your grandma).”

Ben grinned, grabbed the backpack he had packed last night, and bounded down the stairs three at a time.

“I'm going out for the day,” Ben told his grandma. She had her back to him, facing the TV, but turned around slowly in her swivel recliner.

“I hope you're going to look for a job,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously. “You need to start pulling your weight around here at some point. My pension isn't designed for two.”

“I've got a job,” Ben said firmly. “In fact, that's where I'm going now.” He gave her a friendly wave and his most impudent grin. “I'll be back late, so don't wait up.”

He left before she could respond with another barbed comment and found Charlie outside, standing by a large tree in front of the neighbour's house.

“I needed the tree to hide behind in case your grandmother stepped outside,” Charlie explained, as they started down the road together. “I swear she can sense when I'm around; it's uncanny and, frankly, quite scary.”

Almost as scary as his grandma, in Ben's opinion, were the clothes Charlie was wearing. He had a blue and white chequered shirt with beige trousers – both looked like they'd been ironed to within an inch of their lives. His black leather shoes shone as if he'd spent the last hour buffing them and he wore a large backpack with both straps over his shoulders. It was clearly heavy because he was hunched over while carrying it, making him look even smaller than usual. There was even a glean of sweat on his forehead.

“I want to make a good impression,” Charlie said, when Ben questioned his choice of clothes. “I know you'll breeze through the apprenticeship programme, but it's not going to be easy for me.”

“I doubt that,” Ben replied. “Anyway, there will be plenty of studying to do, which you're great at. We have a whole new world to learn about. You'll be fine, trust me.”

Charlie brightened a little, and started to show some of the excitement that was threatening to burst at Ben's seams.

“I can't believe we're finally going,” Charlie said. “I had to make up the most terrible lie to fool my parents. I told them I'd been accepted for an apprenticeship programme at a respectable web design firm. They took it rather well, but I have a feeling Wren had one of her Spellswords do some sort of magic to help them buy it.”

“Wouldn't surprise me,” Ben said. “Anyway, your parents work all hours of the week, right? And you'll be home on the weekends.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, lapping up the support. “They won't miss me. So, what do you think our first day will be like? I've gone over it in my head a hundred times and each one is different.”

They talked with growing excitement for the next twenty minutes through the dull housing estate to the town centre. The weather was perfect, with blue skies and a bright sun beaming down on them, adding to their good moods.

“Did you hear that?” Charlie asked suddenly, raising a chubby finger. He rolled his eyes, indicating that the sound came from behind.

Ben glanced casually backwards and saw two men in suits walking behind them, deep in conversation. Ben perked his ears up to listen.

“…I've seen four Wardens already,” the taller of the two was saying. “I've never seen so much security around the Croydon headquarters before.”

Ben couldn't believe they were talking so openly about the Institute on such a busy street. There were people constantly walking alongside and past them. Strangely, nobody seemed interested in what the two men were saying. Was everyone completely lost in their own worlds or was there something more to it?

“I've seen five Wardens,” the smaller man was saying. “You didn't see the one at the corner just now. Slim fella, easy to miss. There are probably half a dozen others we missed. The good ones are impossible to spot. You think this is all because of the dark elves?”

“Course it is,” the taller one said. His voice was deep and gruff, even for his size. “The Institute has been on alert for the last couple of weeks. Haven't you heard the rumours about the invasion on Fiorgan?”

“I heard the dark elves were threatening to attack, but they haven't done anything yet.”

The tall man gave a humph. “Could happen any moment. I heard there have been plenty of troop movements – and that's
not
rumour. Let's not forget how tactically important Fiorgan is. It's the gateway to Europe.”

“I know how important it is; I'm not an idiot,” the small man said, resentment in his voice. “But why would they post so many Wardens here?”

“Because the dark elves are masters at creating havoc. It wouldn't surprise me if they sent all manner of creatures here to raise hell and distract the Institute.”

“That's true,” the small man conceded. He paused for a moment and then, in a lighter tone of voice, said, “What did you think of United's performance yesterday? I can't believe they shipped two goals right at the end.”

Ben stopped listening and turned to Charlie; his eyes were wide, his sizeable cheeks flushed.

“That was interesting,” Ben said. He gave a quick look round, but could see no sign of anyone who looked like a Warden.

“I wonder if the Wardens are here for another reason,” Charlie said.

“What do you mean?”

Charlie gave a surreptitious look around, before leaning into Ben. “What if they are here to protect you from the dark elves?”

Ben scoffed the idea. “Me? I don't think so. I'm not that important.”

Charlie wagged a chubby finger at him. “No, you're not. But you're the link to your parents, remember? And the dark elves still want them. What's to say they won't make another move for you to try to get to your parents again?”

“Possibly,” Ben said. “I just can't believe the Institute would go through all that trouble to protect me. After all, they don't even know
why
the dark elves want my parents.”

This time both he and Charlie looked around, to make sure nobody was close by.

“I've been thinking about Elizabeth's Armour,” Charlie said, his voice now a whisper. “How much do the dark elves know? Are they aware that it's split up into different families? If so, are they also hunting the other families?”

Ben had spent countless hours thinking the same thing. “It's impossible to know. But if they are, then it's going to be twice as hard for my parents, trying to avoid the dark elves and get to the other descendants before the dark elves do.”

Charlie tapped his chin thoughtfully, but any reply he might have made was drowned out by a succession of beeping cars. They had entered the heart of the town and the roads were jammed as everyone rushed to work. The pavement was equally busy, with men and women on phones, listening to their iPods or just lost in their own worlds. A few people filtered into coffee shops, but most hurried past the high street, with the single intention of getting to their offices before the clock struck nine.

Ben knew the Institute's Croydon headquarters were difficult to spot, despite knowing the exact location. Sure enough, his eyes wandered past the O2 mobile store to the Starbucks coffee shop several times before he spotted the building in the middle. It was small, squeezed in between the two, and purposefully unassuming. Above the revolving door and frosted windows, inlaid into the brickwork, was the R.I.M. logo, cast in bronze and overlaying a royal coat of arms. In front of the door was the same bulky bodyguard they had encountered when they first entered.

Ben felt a thrill of excitement from his back down to his toes. Just beyond those innocent-looking revolving doors was the start of an adventure that had changed their lives just two weeks ago.

“Look at that guy,” Charlie said. He was pointing to a slim man dressed in casual clothes, standing outside Starbucks, holding a hot drink. Ben noted the way he was looking closely at everyone who entered the Institute.

“You think he's another Warden?” Ben said.

“I think so. I wonder how many more there are around?”

“Several probably,” Ben said. He drew out his brand new ID card. It was made of silver and was heavy enough to feel valuable. Next to the embossed logo on the card the name “Ben Greenwood” was etched.

“Shall we go in?” Ben asked Charlie, with a grin.

The inside of the headquarters was just as Ben remembered. There was one long room, with a high ceiling and a pristine white marble floor. To the right was a reception desk, with several busy secretaries typing away, dealing with enquiries in person or on the phone. At the back of the room, perfectly camouflaged against the wall, was the lift that had plummeted them deep underground like a roller-coaster a few weeks earlier.

Last time the reception had been almost empty, but now there were plenty of people about, many milling by the lift; Ben supposed it was because everyone was heading to work.

“I hope there is a variable speed setting,” Charlie said, putting a hand on his little pot belly as they walked to the lift. “I don't know about you, but I had a big breakfast that I'd like to keep down.”

They joined a small line that had formed to get into the lift. Charlie waited patiently, Ben less so, but the line was not moving very fast. In fact, Ben realised after a couple of minutes, it wasn't moving at all.

“What's going on?” a fuzzy-haired lady asked, standing directly in front of them. “I have to be at the Institute by 9:30 or Mr. Ludwig is going to have a fit.”

She wasn't alone in voicing her frustration. There was a growing murmur of discontent. The lift was stuck on the bottom floor and wasn't coming back up.

“Not the best start to our first day,” Charlie commented.

“Does the lift break down often?” Ben asked the fuzzy-haired lady.

“It can't break; it's operated by magic. Some idiot is purposefully holding it at the bottom.”

“Why would they do that?”

“I have no idea; it's never happened before. But they're going to be in deep trouble, making everyone late for work.” The lady turned back around and joined the complaints that had now grown from a murmur to something more vocal.

Ben felt his stomach lurch, as if he had begun his descent down the lift. “Something's not right.”

Charlie groaned. “I hate it when you say that.”

“There are Wardens everywhere, watching for something, and now the lift gets stuck?”

“You think something bad is happening down there?”

“I could be mistaken,” Ben admitted. “I'm sure they have extensive security to stop the wrong people leaving the Unseen Kingdoms.”

Charlie shook his head a little too vigorously. “Your sixth sense is better than Spiderman's.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his gleaming forehead. “Should we tell someone?”

“I don't think they have as much faith in my sixth sense as you do.”

Charlie looked around anxiously. There were now several people lined up behind them. “Do you think we should step out of line? Maybe get a little closer to the exit, just in case?”

“Absolutely not,” Ben said. “You're overreacting, as usual.”

A sudden cheer drowned out Charlie's reply. The lift was moving again. Ben could hear a faint humming as it ascended from deep underground. The line in front shuffled forwards a bit, eager to get in; at the same time Charlie shuffled backwards, apologising profusely to the young man he bumped into from behind.

There was a ding as the lift arrived. The doors opened.

Silence. Then a collective gasp.

An explosion almost burst Ben's eardrums and sent several Institute members closest to the lift flying. An alarm sounded, loud enough to drown out the screams and shouts of surprise and horror.

Some of the Institute members fled as fast as they could, but others came forwards, grim-faced, drawing their spellshooters.

“Defensive line!” a deep voice sounded from behind.

Ben felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned and saw a white-faced Charlie screaming at him.

“Let's get out of here!”

But Ben didn't move. Many of those in front of him had fled or been blasted away, and he could almost see inside the lift.

Spells of every colour and shape were now being fired. Ben couldn't believe anything could survive such an onslaught, but it was clear that the enemy was still fighting. A woman went down in front of him and suddenly the path was clear to the lift and the enemy within – the unmistakable form of a dark elf sat on top of a huge panther.