The Silver Dwarf (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 4) (26 page)

An hour passed, then two. Ben began to tire. His eyes searched each rock mechanically now – he hadn’t the energy to do anything else. He thought briefly of
his parents, wondering if they were anywhere near them. Gradually the rocky terrain gave way to a more manageable landscape – the rocks became less
frequent, and they found a rough path, which the plants and shrubs didn’t encroach upon.

The brooch was now a third filled with red, meaning they had already been in the void for a full eight hours. The good news was that they were relatively
intact, barring a few scrapes and bruises, but the red trail seemed to go on forever, and Ben started to get concerned that they wouldn’t reach its end
before the time was up.

“Look at that,” Charlie said.

Ben, who had taken to staring at the ground as he walked, looked up. Charlie was pointing at a cluster of makeshift houses, surrounded by a wooden fence in
the distance. The path split – left went to the settlement; right continued onwards.

“Goblins,” Charlie said with distaste. “We need to watch out from now on. There will be other creatures, not just goblins, here.”

Thankfully the red trail did not turn left, towards the village, but kept on going. The path was well worn here, and Ben knew it would be only a matter of
time before they ran into someone or something. Sure enough, he soon spotted three goblins heading their way.

“Stay calm,” Ben said, seeing Charlie shuffling uncomfortably.

“I’m really starting to dislike goblins,” Charlie said with a sigh.

“At least they’re not demons.”

But that wasn’t entirely true. The goblins that approached seemed to be a demon hybrid with red skin and small horns protruding from their foreheads.

The goblins had been talking amongst themselves, but they noticed the two boys and were now looking at them with interest. Ben thought he saw one of them
lick his lips. The path was sufficiently wide that Ben had hoped they might just be able to pass by without incident, but when he subtly shifted his
position to the side of the path, the goblins matched his movement. Ben was half-tempted to use his spellshooter and try to take them down from a distance,
knowing goblins were better at close-quarter combat. But he couldn’t bring himself to shoot without provocation.

Both groups stopped, facing each other, each sizing the other up. Ben was pleased to see the goblins eyeing up their spellshooters warily.

“Which clan are you?” the taller goblin in the middle asked in an accusing voice. “Only the Lartes are allowed here, and you’re no Larte. They don’t have
no humans.”

Ben exchanged confused looks with Charlie, who gave a helpless shrug. There wasn’t much he could say; he didn’t know the name of any clans, or else he
would have used one of them.

“We don’t belong to a clan,” Ben said.

The goblin gave a snarl of surprise. “You are loners?”

“Well, there are two of us, so that’s not technically true,” Ben said. “But we don’t belong to a clan, yet.”

The goblins immediately started talking to each other in a harsh language that Ben recognised but didn’t understand, despite his basic goblin lessons.
Eventually, the taller one turned back to them.

“My brothers want to take you in, but our clan has a temporary truce with loners, as long as you leave our land within the hour.”

“We’re leaving,” Ben said a little too quickly. They had no intention of being here in an hour’s time. The goblins gave them a nasty look as they passed,
and Ben got the idea that they would much rather have taken them in.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Charlie said. “I was certain they would attack us, or at least capture us. But clan rules are pretty strict here, and I expect that
held them in line.”

Ben couldn’t help thinking of the Institute. They made entry to the void illegal, citing the place as evil and without law or mercy. But that wasn’t
entirely true – there were laws, just not of the Institute’s making.

The goblin villages, and indeed other settlements containing other races, became more frequent. Some were small, with no more than a dozen residences, but
others resembled small towns. Each time they tried to skirt around them, but on a couple of occasions they found themselves fighting, or more frequently
running from, the residents.

Eventually the urban district passed, and the towns ceased.

“I really hope we don’t come across anything more,” Charlie said. His face was scratched from a recent brawl with a nasty plant that he had stepped into
when running at full pelt from a band of surprisingly quick trolls. Ben, too, was battered and bruised, and he could no longer put his full weight on his
left leg. He tried healing himself by pure will, but he was tired, and it was no longer as effective as it was when they had first arrived.

Ben took to looking at his brooch every hour now; two-thirds of it was coloured in red, and somehow it seemed like it was speeding up. The only consolation
was that the dwarf trail seemed to be getting stronger; the little red line was definitely becoming more substantial.

“I hope that means we’re getting close,” Ben said.

Charlie didn’t answer. He was staring ahead; his tired eyes suddenly looked as though they were about to pop out of their sockets. Ben immediately saw why.

The landscape ahead of them was dramatically different to anything they’d seen so far. Life, which had been scarce before, was completely absent. The dry
grass gave way to a peculiar, marble-like surface, with swirls of red and black. The landscape was flat and endless, devoid of scenery.

Except for one thing.

Dominating the horizon was a black castle, so large that the turrets seemed to touch the sky. Despite the distance, they could feel a peculiar, disturbing
presence from the mighty structure that made both of them shiver.

“Demons,” Charlie said. “I read about their castles, but I thought the author was exaggerating. Clearly not.”

The red trail continued onwards, towards the castle, and it was with great reluctance that they continued to follow it.

“Why would the dwarf visit the demons?” Ben asked.

Charlie gave an uncomfortable shrug. “Maybe he thought only they would be strong enough to offer him a way out.”

The castle became both more impressive and more daunting with each passing minute. It had a peculiar glaze that made the walls shine and added to its aura
of invulnerability. The castle had the strange effect of making it feel like you were being watched. The feeling grew, and Ben soon realised it wasn’t just
a feeling.

“We’re being watched,” Ben said quietly.

Charlie wore a worried frown. “I can feel it too. We must be close enough to the castle to have attracted their attention.”

When you are walking through such a bare landscape for so long, with nothing to look at bar the castle, anything that crops up on the horizon is
interesting. And so it was with the forest. It materialised in the distance to their right, and ran parallel with them, towards and beyond the castle. Even
from here, Ben could tell the trees were big. More significantly, they were green, and full of life.

Ben’s neck started to hurt, as he gazed upon the forest, preferring to look at it rather than the daunting castle. But even if he had been staring dead
ahead, he wouldn’t have seen the barrier. Ben felt a sudden resistance, slowing his walk momentarily, before he passed through.

“What was that?” Ben asked, turning around and trying to see the barrier they had passed through.

Charlie started tapping frantically on his shoulder.

Ben turned back around, and immediately realised that the barrier they passed through wasn’t supposed to stop people, but prevent them from seeing what lay
beyond.

It was prison hell. Hundreds of single cages floated twenty feet in the air, in neat rows and columns, creating a grid of prisoners. Many of the cells were
occupied by goblins, but others were taken by humans, dwarves, trolls, even a few elves, and many more races Ben couldn’t identify.

The noise was incredible, even from a distance. As soon as the prisoners spotted them, they started waving and calling, shaking their bars, and generally
causing a cacophony.

“The demon’s prison,” Charlie said softly. “I read about it, but it’s even worse in real life. They just leave them out here to die.”

Ben was trying to see where the red trail went. At the beginning it had been no more than a slender piece of string; now it looked more like a rope,
glowing bright and strong. The trail went right into the heart of the floating cages, but did it continue beyond, into the castle? Or was the dwarf trapped
in one of the cages?

“Come on,” Ben said. “We don’t have much time.”

The noise from the prisoners increased as they approached, and reached a crescendo when they entered the field of floating cages.

“Humans! Get me out of here!”

“Psst, over here, kids. I’ve got an offer for you.”

“Please help me. I’m dying.”

The desperate ones screamed and shouted at them. Others tried to coax them with riches or power; still others looked at them with curiosity but said
nothing. The worst were those who had given up, and sat slumped in their cages, waiting, perhaps even hoping, for death. Ben was almost glad they were
twenty feet in the air, as their outstretched arms (barring a few with ridiculously long limbs) couldn’t reach them. Were the prisoners good or evil?
Certainly the majority seemed the latter; the mere fact that they were inside the void reaffirmed that. But Ben spotted a few whom he wished he could have
helped.

Ben forced himself to zone out the voices and focused on the trail, his heart accelerating. They were close. The dwarf was either in the prison field or in
the castle. He didn’t even want to think about the latter; the idea of breaching the castle was too daunting.

The red trail started to rise upwards, and Ben clenched his fist in hope. Soon it was as high as Ben, and it kept getting higher. The trail headed right
for an ugly troll that barely fit into its cage. It swerved left, then right, and Ben followed it, now almost running.

Standing in his own cage, just behind the troll, the dwarf mage stared at them, clenching the bars, curiosity etched on his weather-worn face.

There were a few subtle differences between the appearance of the dwarf here and the one lying in the cavern. He had the same prominent nose and thick,
ginger beard, but his face had a worn expression Ben hadn’t noticed before, and it looked thinner, almost gaunt. It was his eyes that really stood out;
they had a haunted look about them, emphasised by the bags underneath them.

It occurred to Ben that he didn’t even know the dwarf’s name, nor had he given a moment’s thought about what he was going to say; he always assumed it
would come naturally, but natural was hard when you were surrounded by floating cages with prisoners screaming at you.

“My name is Elander Farseeker,” the dwarf said in a surprisingly deep voice. His manner wasn’t unfriendly, but guarded. “I have been expecting you.”

Ben gave the dwarf an incredulous look. “You have?”

Elander nodded. “I can sense your bodies resting near mine. I guessed you were looking for me.”

Ben knew he should blast Elander out of the cage and get away from this horrible place as soon as possible, but he hesitated. Questions that he had been
sitting on for some time suddenly started buzzing round his head, and he simply couldn’t wait until they had made an escape before asking them.

“Yes, we’ve been looking for you,” Ben said, carefully choosing his words. “We have been searching for anyone connected to a certain dwarf.”

Elander appeared unsurprised. “The Silver Dwarf. My late father.”

Ben managed to restrict his exultation to a subtly clenched fist. They had him. They had the Guardian.

A particularly loud cry came from a nearby cage, making him jolt. He turned and saw a troll shaking the cage bars with such force that it was a miracle
they hadn’t snapped. Ben knew they should get the dwarf out now and leave, but he couldn’t resist asking one more question.

“Does Elizabeth’s Armour mean anything to you?”

Elander’s bushy, ginger eyebrows rose. He didn’t reply immediately, and Ben found himself waiting on tenterhooks, the screams and shouts from the other
prisoners fading into a distant hum.

“I know about her armour. I know about its legacy,” Elander said. “More than that I’m not willing to say until I am safe and know I can trust you.”

Ben nodded, suppressing the euphoria that coursed through his body. He raised his spellshooter, but to his surprise, the dwarf raised both hands in
warning.

“Wait. The moment you free me, or any of us, you will alert the guards.”

Ben cursed. “Great. What sort of guards?”

“Hellhounds. Big ones.”

Charlie groaned, and placed his hand over his face. “I read that they cannot be killed. Is that true?”

“You are well read,” the dwarf said.

“A minor drawback,” Ben said. “But it can’t be helped. What’s the best way to free you?”

“Use your spellshooter to cast an open-lock spell. The cage inhibits any magic from within, but it is vulnerable to external magic.”

Ben raised his spellshooter, but Charlie immediately lowered it.

“Wait a second. I’ve read about these hellhounds. Like you said, they cannot be killed. I also read that they have three heads and relish pain. How are we
supposed to stop them?”

“We don’t,” Elander said. “If we can make it to the forest, we will be safe. They fear the trees.”

Charlie appeared caught off guard, as if he wasn’t expecting a reasonable solution. Ben took the chance to step in.

“Has anyone ever managed a successful rescue?”

“Not during my time here,” Elander said. “But that is only because few people attempt it. Agrath has a certain reputation that keeps people away.”

“Agrath?”

The dwarf motioned behind him. “The castle.”

Charlie turned to Ben, his face anxious. “Are we sure about this?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Elander said, before Ben could reply.