The Silver Dwarf (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 4) (3 page)

“What happened here?” Natalie asked, her voice a whisper.

“Looks like the dark elves attacked the dwarves,” Ben said.

Eventually they made their way down to the great hall, via a steep staircase, and they were soon walking among the bodies. Ben felt his stomach heave more
than once, and tried averting his eyes from the carnage. Behind him, he heard Charlie attempt to empty his stomach again. Both he and Natalie looked ready
to faint.

“You think this was the dwarves’ home, then?” Natalie asked.

Ben nodded. “I think so. We know dwarves are far more likely to live underground. The dark elves must have attacked them.”

“But why would they want to do that?”

“A more appropriate question might be – when?” Charlie said, finding his voice.

Ben forced himself to look at the dead bodies. They were pale and lifeless, the blood dry. Even close up there was no sign of decay, though it stank to
high heaven.

“Can’t be more than a week or two, would be my guess,” Ben said.

“Who won the fight, do you think?” Natalie asked.

“The dark elves,” Ben said. “Those who survived must have left already. The dwarves wouldn’t have left their dead colleagues to rot.”

“Are you sure all the dark elves have gone?” Natalie asked, looking around furtively. There were several passageways leading out from the hall, but nobody
felt inclined to search them.

“I think we’d know if any were left,” Ben said. “No, what I want to know is why did the dark elves come in the first place? And why did the key lead us
here?”

“What’s that?”

Charlie’s voice echoed loudly in the hall, in sharp contrast to their hushed whispers and ruining their efforts at keeping a low profile. He was pointing
and looking intently at the far corner of the room.

Ben couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before. A small energy dome surrounded a dwarf sitting cross-legged on the floor. His eyes were closed, but he
was clearly still alive.

They picked their way through the bodies. Charlie accidentally stepped on several heads and other dead body parts, but he barely noticed, so intent was he
on their target. Nevertheless, Ben picked the path of fewest dead people, and it took them several minutes to reach the dwarf.

He was most definitely still living and looked completely unharmed. Ben extended his hand out, but, as he expected, it came up against the shimmering
barrier protecting the dwarf.

“Fascinating,” Charlie said. All anxiety had gone from him now, replaced with interest and curiosity.

This dwarf was clearly not like the others. He wore no armour and was dressed all in red, with a hood that partially covered his bright ginger hair. On his
lap was a small staff with a glowing orb at its tip. The dwarf was frowning, and making occasional twitches of his lips, as if he were involved in a bad
dream.

“Hello?” Ben said, waving his hand in front of the dwarf.

“He’s not going to hear you,” Charlie said softly, staring intently at the dwarf.

“How about if I go louder?” Ben suggested.

“It wouldn’t make a difference if you brought a full symphony orchestra down here,” Charlie said.

“Why not? Do you think he’s in some sort of trance?”

“Not quite,” Charlie said. He turned to Ben. “If I’m reading all the signs correctly, I think he’s gone into the void.”

Ben felt his stomach do funny things at the mention of the void. It was a strange other-worldly place that, from what he’d read, sounded like a nasty
version of hell. While there in spirit, your body could not be harmed in the physical world. His parents had used it to protect themselves from the dark
elf king, and it seemed the dwarf was doing the same.

“I bet his only way to stay alive was to flee into the void,” Charlie said.

“But why hasn’t he come back?” Natalie asked. “I would have thought he’d want to return as soon as it was safe.”

“I don’t know,” Charlie admitted. “Perhaps he doesn’t know it’s safe here, or perhaps he can’t return. I’ve read that it can be difficult to get back.”

“Why didn’t the dark elves follow him in?” Ben said. Glancing around, there was clearly no sign of anyone else having entered the void nearby.

“Oh, that’s obvious,” Charlie said, waving a hand. “The demons recognise the dark elves as a true threat to their domain, and always wipe out any that enter.
It’s not that the dark elves couldn’t hold their own, but it would take a concerted effort, and I think they’d rather focus on conquering the Unseen
Kingdoms.”

The three of them studied the dwarf from every angle, and tried poking at the dome at numerous different places, but to no avail. It was only when they
finally stepped back to get a broader view that they noticed what they had been missing.

In a small crevice next to the dwarf, hidden from plain sight, was a symbol etched in blood on the wall and drawn so that it must have been at least two
feet high. To Ben, who knew little of symbols, it looked like some sort of complicated Chinese character.

“That is dark elf lettering,” Natalie said, frowning. “I don’t know what it says, but I recognise the style.”

Ben ran a finger over the symbol. The blood was dry, and now firmly part of the rock. Eventually he stepped back, hands on hips, feeling a little
frustrated.

“So, what do we have to go on? A dwarf mage in the void and a strange dark elf symbol etched in blood. I’ll be honest – I was hoping for a little more.”

To Ben’s surprise, Charlie was smiling.

“Don’t tell me you can understand this?”

“Of course not,” Charlie said, waving a chubby hand. “But don’t you see? This symbol is a clue! Up to now, we had nothing, even with the dwarf, as
interesting as he was. But the symbol gives us something to go on.”

“It may not be easy deciphering a dark elf symbol,” Natalie said, still frowning at the wall.

“I bet we can work it out,” Charlie said. “I’ve seen several dark elf dictionaries in the Institute library.”

Ben felt his optimism returning. He turned and took another sweeping look at the hall, cringing once more at the sight of the dead bodies. “So, what do we
make of this?”

Charlie was tapping his cheeks thoughtfully. “This is what I think – and correct me if you think I’m horribly wrong. For some reason, the dark elves
decided to attack these dwarves. We have no idea why, but, from history, the dark elves don’t really need a reason to cause mayhem. The dwarves were
outnumbered, but, by the number of dead dark elves, gave a good account of themselves. The sole survivor was this dwarf mage, who saved himself by fleeing
into the void.”

“And the symbol on the wall?” Natalie asked.

“I’m not totally sure,” Charlie admitted. “Perhaps the dark elves wanted to leave a message to those who came after or perhaps it’s some sort of
signature.”

“I agree,” Ben said. “There’s not much more we can learn until we research this symbol.”

“What about the key?” Natalie asked. “Why do you think it led us down here? Do you think it was to speak to one of these dwarves, or could it be something
else?”

Ben looked around the place again, rubbing his arms. He had been so engrossed in their discoveries that he hadn’t realised how cold and stale the air felt.

“That’s a good point,” he said. “We should search this place thoroughly to see if there is anything more we can learn.”

“What, even those dark, unpleasant-looking tunnels over there?” Charlie asked, losing some of his enthusiasm.

“It won’t take long,” Ben said, “and we’ll do it together.”

They spent the better part of an hour searching the many tunnels that spiralled off from the main tunnel. Many of them led back to the surface, but they
found nothing but the occasional dead body within them. Even Charlie began to relax when it became obvious that this once thriving underground dwelling was
truly deserted.

When they finally returned to the main hall, even Ben was eager to get going.

“So, I guess the symbol is our only real clue, then,” Natalie said, looking slightly downhearted. “I don’t know why, but I can’t imagine the key leading us
here just for that.”

“I know what you mean,” Ben said, looking wistfully at the dwarf mage. “I get the feeling we were supposed to find something else.”

“No,” Charlie said firmly.

“No, what?” Natalie asked, turning to Charlie in surprise.

He was staring at Ben with a frown. “No, the void,” Charlie said.

It was Natalie’s turn to frown. “What do you mean? Go into the void? Don’t be ridiculous, Charlie; not even Ben would think of something that mad –
would you, Ben?”

Ben gave her an offhand smile. “No, of course not. That would be madness. Come on, let’s get out of this place. I need some air.”

Despite the discovery of the dwarf mage and the strange dark elf symbol, life at the Institute resumed some semblance of normality – or as normal as could
be expected given the growing threat of the dark elves and their recent attacks on English towns.

To Ben’s relief, Abigail passed the initiation test and had settled in wonderfully. She loved every single department and, to his surprise, excelled in
Diplomacy. She was fascinated by the different Unseens, and her sweet demeanour seemed to help with the diplomatic scenarios. Ben checked in on her daily,
but after a while, it was clear he didn’t have too much to worry about. As a Guardian, she would in time need to learn how to master the helm, but there
was much she needed to experience first.

However, Abigail wasn’t Ben’s primary concern right now, nor were the dark elves or even Elizabeth’s Armour. There was something far more pressing going
on, and his reputation was riding on it: the spellstrike game against Aaron’s team.

“You realise we’re going to get hammered, right?” William said.

“No, but thank you for your words of support. I appreciate the optimism,” Ben said.

There were eight of them, sitting round a table in a small meeting room. Ben stood at the end, leaning on the table.

William shrugged, his entire body seeming to ripple with muscle. “Just stating the obvious, Ben. But you’re not dumb – I’m sure you know this already.”

“On the face of it, yes, we are at a slight disadvantage—”

A sizeable hand thumped the table. “Slight – ha! There’s more chance of Ross County winning the Scottish Championship.”

Ben turned to Lydia, maintaining a calm expression. It didn’t do to get angry at Lydia; she might crush you. To say she was big would be understating
things, and Ben had concerns about the chair she was sitting on. She had a mass of curly, brown hair and fiery eyes that looked ready to explode. But she
was an excellent spellstrike player, and that’s all Ben cared about. William had recruited her, and Ben suspected she might have a crush on the muscular third-grader, and so he was probably one of the few people who might be able to deal with her..

When it was clear Lydia was finished, Ben continued.

“Yes, I’m not sure if anyone in this room knows who Ross County are, but thank you. So, Will, where are we at?”

“I managed to persuade Taecia’s youth team to share their timeslot on the Taecia battleground with us,” William said. “So every day at 6pm we get a couple
of hours to train, as long as we don’t get in their way.”

“Aaron’s team are training three hours a day, at his own world-class battleground,” Simon said.

Ben turned to Simon, who was slouched in his chair like a kid, playing with a pen by clicking it on and off.

“More good news, thanks,” Ben said with false cheer. “Can anyone tell me something positive?”

“Afraid not,” Lisa said. She had come on board out of sympathy for their plight, and Ben immediately recognised her as a natural athlete. She was wiry and
strong, with bright blue eyes and a fresh face. “I do have some news to report, though. You asked Simon and me to spy on Aaron’s team. We watched them for
a good hour last night, and it was impressive. I think their plan is to humiliate us by going with a five-pronged attack right at the start. If their
scouts can locate our flag, they’ve got a good chance of making this the shortest game in history.”

Ben nodded. It was getting increasingly difficult to remain upbeat. “Well, at least we know what they’re planning, so we can counter that, right, Will?”

He turned to his captain with an almost pleading look.

Will seemed to sense his desperation and, to Ben’s immense relief, he gave a nod.

“Yes, we can tailor our own tactics around that,” Will said. “I have a few ideas for traps we can set, which will punish them.”

Ben thumped a clenched fist on the table. “Great. And remember, we can all practise by ourselves during our free time in the evenings. Even if it’s just
taking a jog to increase our stamina, it all helps. Alright, does anyone have anything else to add before Will takes the floor?”

“Nothing that you’ll want to hear,” Lydia muttered.

“Okay, then,” Ben said. “Over to you, Will.”

William eased himself up, towering over them. He emptied the contents of a small box onto the table. They looked like chess pieces, except none of them were
recognisable.

“This is a brief introduction to spellstrike, mainly for Ben and Charlie’s sake, though going over the basics can’t harm.”

He threw eight red pieces down the other end, and kept the blues himself.

“It’s eight against eight, with both teams having two reserves, which we don’t have. The object is to capture their flag. Unlike traditional
capture-the-flag games, you win the moment you have caught it – you don’t need to return to your own base. Got it?”

Will looked at Ben and Charlie, who both nodded with differing levels of enthusiasm. Ben had tried reading textbooks on the game, but they just made his
head spin, so it was nice to have it simply explained.

“There are a few basic positions in the game,” William said. He dragged a piece shaped like a bird to the back of the table.

“The first is the owl. He or she is usually stationed as high as possible, with a panoramic view of the battleground. Their job is to watch and report. The
owl can use her spellshooter like a walkie-talkie, and communicate to the other players on her team. They can reply, but cannot communicate with anyone
except the owl.” William stopped and turned to Natalie. “Ben has told me about your exceptional eyesight. You will be our owl.”