The Silver Dwarf (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 4) (21 page)

“How about this place?” Natalie asked.

She was pointing to a wooden cabin that, by goblin standards, looked rather plain. The sign outside was flashing in rainbow colours and read “
Tonbell’s Spells”
.

“Sure, why not? We have to start somewhere.”

Ben pushed open the door and entered a small, but surprisingly neat spell shop. There were three shelves – two lining the walls and one that ran down the
middle. On each were spells in colour-coded baskets, with labels and prices. Ben took a peek and recognised none of them, which only heightened his
curiosity.

“The goblin at the back,” Natalie whispered, giving Ben a little nudge.

Ben looked up and saw a small goblin – Tonbell, Ben assumed – sitting on a desk, which was also neatly arranged with pens, paper and a couple of stacked
books.

“May I help?” Tonbell asked in a soft voice.

As far as goblins went, Tonbell wasn’t exactly typical. He looked more like a gnome, small and scrawny, with large, floppy ears and intelligent eyes. In
his hand was a quill, which kept writing, despite the fact he was looking right at them.

Ben approached, with a smile, and he heard Natalie and Charlie hang back. This was his area, and they knew it.

“You might be able to,” Ben said. “I’m looking for some very specific spells, which I’ve heard goblins are famous for.”

If Ben expected a reaction, he was disappointed. Tonbell didn’t as much as bat an eye, and Ben knew immediately that he was dealing with a goblin of some
experience in the bartering department.

“What spells are you interested in?” Tonbell asked.

Ben noticed he was subtly eyeing up their clothes and appearance, most likely judging how prosperous they were.

“We need to gain access to the void,” Ben said.

Tonbell, who had been calm, but interested in their custom, suddenly became as solid as a brick, and immediately turned back to his writing.

“I am sorry, I don’t deal in illegal spells,” he said. “I do not want to get on the wrong side of the Institute – I am sure you understand.”

Tonbell looked up then, meaningfully. Did he suspect they were apprentices? Ben suspected so. What now? Ben wasn’t ready to give up without a fight.

“We need those spells,” Ben said, attempting an honest, but sincere expression. “We’re willing to pay well. If you won’t sell them, can you tell me who
will?”

“I’m afraid not,” Tonbell said. “As I said, I take no part in anything related to illegal activity. I have a healthy relationship with the Institute, and I
intend to keep it that way.”

Ben got the distinct feeling Tonbell thought he was being inspected, and it was clear he wasn’t going to budge. They had the misfortune of meeting arguably
the only goblin with some sort of moral standards.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Charlie said, as they left Tonbell’s shop, and continued down the road.

“He was refreshingly honest, wasn’t he,” Natalie admitted. “I never thought I’d say this, but I hope our next goblin is slightly less scrupulous.”

However, they soon learned that it wasn’t ethics or scruples that were the problem – it was simply that they didn’t want to get caught. It was clear the
Institute came down hard on any goblins trading void spells of any nature. Other shops weren’t as polite as Tonbell, but just as clear that they did not
deal in illegal spells. Twenty minutes and five shops later, they were halfway down Goblin Avenue with nothing to show for it. Ben was getting increasingly
frustrated.

“The Institute really doesn’t want people going to the void, do they,” Natalie said. “Maybe we should change our strategy. I could try talking. I know I’m
not as good as you, Ben, but it’s worth a go.”

Ben was about to agree when he noticed a goblin child coming their way. There was something about him that caught Ben’s eye. He was by himself, without any
sign of parents, yet he didn’t look awkward or alone. He wore a bright red shirt and his hands were buried deep in his jeans pockets. He was whistling
cheerfully, and heading right towards them. The moment he locked eyes with Ben, he gave a knuckled salute.

“Afternoon, mister,” the goblin said in a working-class London accent. “Fine day for walking, innit?”

“It is a nice day,” Ben said.

The goblin stopped directly in front of Ben, making him stop. Ben was about to go round him, when the goblin gave a knowing smile and leaned forwards.

“Word on the street is that there are some humans looking for void spells.”

Ben was careful not to react, and silently cursed Charlie for his sudden intake of breath.

“We might be. Do you know someone who might be interested in selling?”

“Course I do,” the goblin said, slapping his chest. “I know everyone on Goblin Avenue. I know the exact goblin you need, and he’ll give you the best price.
I can vouch for him.”

“And who might that be?”

The goblin grinned, showing some surprisingly white teeth. “My services aren’t free, you know.” He held out a hand. “My going rate is twenty pounds per
piece of information. Five pound extra for a personal escort to your destination.”

“That’s outrageous,” Charlie said, stepping up beside Ben, and looking down on the goblin like a scolding adult. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

Ben, however, was smiling. He had taken an immediate liking to the young goblin. He dipped into his pocket and pulled out a few notes. “Deal. Here’s
twenty-five pounds. Lead on.”

Charlie gave him an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”

“We haven’t exactly been lucky so far. I don’t want to spend all day trying every shop,” Ben said. “Let’s give the kid a chance.”

The goblin tucked the money in his pocket with an impudent grin, and then waved at them to follow. He walked with a jaunty swing, clearly delighted with
his recent acquisition. If he was trying to fool them, he was doing a good job of not caring about it.

“Where are your parents?” Natalie asked.

The goblin’s jovial walk faltered, but only a little. “They are at work. I’m just bringing in some extra cash – pocket money, if you will.”

Ben knew a lie when he heard one. Natalie also appeared to detect the falsehood, and she gave Ben a concerned look. Ben wouldn’t have been surprised if the
goblin had no parents, and possibly no home. But he looked like a survivor, and he certainly didn’t seem to be doing too bad for himself. He wondered how
many other young goblins were similarly hard up.

They walked to the very end of Goblin Avenue, before the goblin finally stopped, and pointed with a flourish and a bow at the shop at the end.

“Here we go,” the goblin said. “Magical Mayhem Ltd. They’ll sort you out, guaranteed. There’s no finer shop in Goblin Avenue.”

The shop certainly looked impressive from the outside. It had large display windows that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Oxford Street, with sale
signs announcing ten percent off all air-based spells.

“What happens if they can’t help us?” Charlie asked with an accusing glance at the little goblin. “Do we get our money back?”

“Absolutely,” the goblin replied. “You know what? I’m going to wait here until you come out just to make sure you’re happy. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like we won’t see you again,” Charlie muttered under his breath.

The goblin looked genuinely affronted.

Ben stepped in and extended his hand. “It’s a deal. We’ll see you soon.”

Ben had a good feeling about Magical Mayhem the moment he stepped through the entrance. It was light and airy, and there was a variety of magic wares he’d
not seen since his last visit to the “W” store. As well as spells, there was an array of weaponry and armour, plus various artefacts and trinkets of all
kinds. Among the items that caught his eye were a necklace of enhanced vision and a spell-absorber vest.

“Eight hundred pounds,” he noted, examining a label. “Slightly outside my five-pound budget.”

“Should we look around or just ask to see someone?” Charlie asked.

The shop was busy, and Ben counted at least a dozen other customers perusing the shop, both human and goblin.

“Let’s look around a bit first,” Ben said. “Maybe we’ll find something that can help us.”

It was easy to get distracted, looking at all the magic on offer, but Ben concentrated on looking for spells or items that might be related to the void.
They methodically worked their way through the shop, up and down the shelves. Though there were many strange and wonderful spells, none of them were in the
same field of what they were looking for. Ben was starting to get that familiar sinking feeling, when Natalie gave an excited intake of breath.

“Look! That’s got to be it,” she said with suppressed excitement.

She was pointing to a black door at the back corner of the shop. On it, in white writing, were the words “
Dark Magic”
. Ben couldn’t believe they
hadn’t noticed it before. They had been so fixated on the shelves that they hadn’t thought to check for any other rooms the shop might have to offer.

Ben approached the door cautiously, as if it might have some sort of in-built defensive magic, but it opened easily enough.

Ben had to squint the moment he entered the new room. It was dimly lit, and his eyes took a moment to adjust. The room reflected the nature of the magic.
The walls were painted black, decorated with silver, Gothic-like symbols that seemed to pulse every time Ben looked at them. The magical wares on the
shelves were all contained in small, silver boxes, under lock and key. Ben heard several of them humming, and a couple were vibrating.

“This room isn’t for little children,” a harsh, throaty voice said. “Leave before I call security.”

The voice came from the back of the room. Sitting on a large, ornately decorated desk was a tall goblin, wearing a hooded green cloak the colour of his
skin. His eyes were yellow, and his skin heavily pocked. There was a presence about the goblin that made Charlie and Natalie falter. He was a shaman, Ben
realised. The bits of his body that were visible were tattooed, and he had a staff leaning against his desk.

“Go ahead,” Ben said, stepping forwards with a nonchalant air. “This place is a disappointment. You came highly recommended, but it’s clear that you don’t
have the spells we need. Is there a shop you can recommend that sells real dark magic?”

The reverse psychology trading tactic was favoured when dealing with goblins – they were quick to anger and easily baited, but Ben had never dealt with a
shaman before. He knew he’d hit the mark the moment he saw those yellow eyes narrow.

“What are you looking for?” the goblin shaman asked, his croaky voice dangerously soft.

Ben locked eyes with the shaman. “I need a way in and a way out of the void.”

The surprise in the shaman’s face was obvious. “Who is it for?”

“Does it matter?” Ben asked.

The shaman sneered. “Of course, you idiot. Different body types require different spells. Choose a void spell designed for a dwarf and use it on a human,
and he would explode into a thousand pieces.”

Ben cursed inwardly. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

“It’s for us,” he said.

To Ben’s surprise, the shaman broke into a huge, extremely unpleasant grin. “You? How ironic, the Institute’s own apprentices violating their laws stopping
people entering the void.”

Ben was speechless. He glanced at his shoulder, but there was nothing there.

“Just because you can’t see the diamonds, doesn’t mean I can’t,” the shaman said.

Ben thought furiously. He decided to go for honesty.

“Yes, we are apprentices. But we are here on our own volition. The Institute don’t know anything about this, nor will they.”

“Unless you go missing and it gets traced back to me,” the shaman said. “Which is quite likely, if you enter the void.”

“So what?” Ben said. “If we go missing, they won’t have a clue what happened, and certainly wouldn’t think of looking in the void. The Institute shuns the
void like the plague.”

For the first time, Ben saw the shaman hesitate. Ben pushed home his advantage. He stepped forwards and pulled out a large wad of cash.

“What is the cost of getting in and out of the void?” he asked, waving the cash about. The shaman’s yellow eyes followed the money back and forth.

“Two hundred pounds to get in; three hundred to get out,” the shaman said.

Ben knew he was in no position to negotiate. He counted out the money and handed it over. The Shaman took one glance at it, and shook his head.

“That was per person, not total,” he said.

Ben had performed many dramatic acts of outrage when trading before, but this time it was genuine. Both Charlie and Natalie chimed in with angry voices.

The shaman waited calmly for them to finish. “That’s the price. Take it or leave it.”

Ben choked back several choice retorts.

“You changed the price, didn’t you?” he said, when he had finally composed himself. “It was going to be five hundred pounds.”

The shaman gave a shrug. “It doesn’t matter. That is my price.”

“I can’t take it,” Ben said, crunching the bills in anger. “We only have a thousand pounds.”

“That is unfortunate.” The shaman seemed to be enjoying himself now. “It seems like only two of you can afford to go.”

Ben wanted to tell the shaman to go to hell, but he was caught between a rock and a hard place. This was their one chance to get into the void. He gave the
shaman a withering look, and then turned away, calling Charlie and Natalie to him for a timeout.

“I hate to admit it, but we have a decision to make,” Ben said. “Only one of you can come with me.”

Natalie was looking at Ben with a determined glint in her eye. “I’ll go.”

Ben turned to Charlie, who had a resigned expression on his face. He rubbed his forehead, and gave a sigh, puffing his little pot-belly out. “No, I should
go.”

To Ben’s surprise, Natalie turned on Charlie with a flash of annoyance. “Why should you go? You were the one who protested violently about this whole thing
in the first place.”