Royal Institute of Magic: Elizabeth's Legacy (6 page)

Before Ben could reply, the
ground shuddered. It felt like a mini earthquake.

“Your ride,” the
goblin said.“You should step back, unless you want to be
eaten.”

The goblin had already taken his
own advice, stepping away from the platform. Everyone else near the
edge was doing the same. Several people were now peering into the
inky blackness of the tunnel to their right.

Ben heard a soft rumbling noise,
which quickly got louder until it sounded like a jumbo jet was
careering down the tunnel right at them. The wind picked up, sweeping
his hair back. Two green dots appeared in the depths of the tunnel;
their oval shape and colour were an unusual choice for headlights.

The headlights blinked.

A dragon came flying down the
tunnel and entered the platform with a deep-throated roar. It had
teeth the size of daggers, flaring nostrils and red, scaly skin. Its
leathery wings were short and stubby, suited to the deep tunnels
rather than the open air. Ben flung himself backwards at the last
minute, taking Charlie with him and landed hard on his backside. The
sight before him made the pain insignificant. The dragon was pulling
a dozen bright red carriages. They were far smaller than their London
Underground counterparts. Elbows rested on half-doors and the windows
had no glass, leaving the passengers open to the elements. It
reminded Ben of the trams at theme parks, which took you from the car
park to the entrance. On the dragon’s neck sat three men on a
huge saddle, each holding a harness.

The dragon came to a halt, steam
hissing from its nostrils. The small half-doors swung open and people
started filing out as if it were nothing more than the 9:07 from
London Victoria.

Impossible.
Impossible!
But there it was, living and breathing. The shades of red on its
scaly armour, rising and falling with every breath, were so real that
Ben had the insane urge to touch them.

“I’m dreaming,”
Charlie whispered. “It’s the only possible explanation.”

They picked themselves off the
floor, eyes still glued to the dragon.

“You’d better get in.
Next one’s not for an hour.”

It was the little green man, or
goblin, as he called himself. Was he a real goblin? A minute ago Ben
would have scoffed at the prospect, but then came the dragon.

Charlie was lost in his own
world, incapable of thought or reason. Ben gave the goblin a nod of
thanks and shoved Charlie into one of the carriages, shutting the
door behind him. It was crowded and Ben squeezed into a seat on the
end, his elbow resting on the top of the small half-door.

“All aboard – she’s
about to depart!” the goblin shouted.

After a final flurry of doors
closing, the goblin stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled. The
carriage gave a gentle jerk and starting moving slowly along the
platform. Ahead, Ben could see the mighty black tunnel. The dragon
broke into a gentle canter, flapping its stubby wings to help it
along. The black tunnel engulfed them. For a moment Ben couldn’t
see his hand in front of his face, then the roof lit up, casting a
soft, warm glow on the passengers. The wind rushed in, gently
buffeting their faces.

Ben sat in silence until his
heart rate returned to something approaching normal.

“Well, we’re on our
way,” he said with a smile.

Thankfully, Charlie seemed to
have returned to the world of the living. He still looked pale, but
his crazed eyes had disappeared.

“Where to?”

“The Royal Institute of
Magic, of course.”

“But where
is
that?”

Ben shrugged. “We’ll
soon find out.”

As the train trundled along, Ben
thought of his parents. Had they known about all of this? If so, why
keep it secret? Ben was starting to feel he had been missing out on
something huge.

An announcement interrupted his
thoughts. It came from the ceiling, though Ben saw no speakers, and
had the same poorly masked boredom associated with most train
conductors.

“Welcome, those joining us
from Croydon,” the voice droned. “We have a clear tunnel
all the way to Taecia this morning, which means our journey time will
be approximately forty-eight minutes. Thank you.”

Ben frowned. “Taecia? I
thought we were heading to the Institute?”

“Maybe the little green man
lied to us,” Charlie said.

Ben glanced cautiously at the
nearby passengers, but thankfully nobody seemed to have heard
Charlie’s comment. With the noise from the carriage, plus the
general murmur of conversation, Ben was fairly certain no one was
listening to them. Nevertheless, he tried to keep his voice down.

“The goblin, you mean.”

“You can’t be
serious,” Charlie said.

“Why – because
goblins don’t exist?”

“I can’t believe I’m
saying this, but no, goblins don’t exist.”

Ben didn’t know whether to
laugh or to slap Charlie round his ample chops.

“Have you seen what’s
pulling us along?”

Charlie gave a furtive glance
towards the back of the dragon’s mighty neck. He shook his
head, looking troubled.

“I can’t,” he
said.

“Try harder.”

Charlie took his hanky out and
wiped his forehead. “How do you do it? How do you simply accept
all this?”

“Because it’s
happening.”

“I could be dreaming,”
Charlie mused. “Or maybe someone spiked our drinks. Maybe I’m
hallucinating. Or maybe—”

“Do you want me to slap
you?” Ben asked.

“Yes, please.”

But Ben didn’t. “It’s
not easy for me either. Every time I look outside I want to pinch
myself.”

This seemed to help Charlie relax
and he put his hanky away. “If the
goblin
”
– Charlie faltered, but only a little – “isn’t
lying, then perhaps Taecia is where the Royal Institute of Magic is.”

“That makes sense.”

“A more pressing question,”
Charlie said, “is the location of Taecia.”

“Have you worked out where
we’re going?”

Charlie ticked off the facts on
his stubby fingers. “I’d say we are doing no more than
40mph and we are heading south-west. The conductor says we will be
travelling for forty-eight minutes, which means we will end up
somewhere short of Portsmouth.”

Ben didn’t doubt Charlie’s
calculations or his in-built compass, which had saved them many times
before.

“Seems like a lot of work
for a simple network between towns. We already have trains and
buses,” Ben said.

The conductor’s voice
intervened before Charlie could reply.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we
are about to take off. Please brace yourselves.”

Ben exchanged an alarmed look
with Charlie, whose face went pale, having only just regained colour.

“Take off?” Charlie
said, a little too loudly for Ben’s liking. “We’re
in a
tunnel
.”

Ben’s initial anxiety was
tempered by the calm exuding from the other passengers. They didn’t
even seem to be doing anything to brace themselves. A moment later, a
metallic bar fastened to the back of the seat in front started
sliding forward until it pressed down gently on their laps.

“Is that it?” Charlie
asked, staring at the bar. “How about some seat belts, air bags
or at least something that has a slim chance of preventing our
untimely deaths?”

Charlie had a point. The bar
reminded him of a cheap theme park ride, one that he could climb out
of if he desired.

Ben wanted to reassure Charlie by
pointing out that nobody else was panicking. He didn’t get the
chance.

The carriage accelerated like a
modern-day roller-coaster. Ben’s head yanked back and he
grabbed hold of the metal bar for dear life. The wind buffeted him,
screaming in his ears, watering his eyes. The carriage gave a little
hop and its wheels left the ground. The roof screeched as they grazed
the top of the tunnel. Ben braced himself for impact, but the
carriages levelled out. There was a bang, like a gun being fired, and
immediately the wind stopped, as did the rocking. The train cruised
along smoothly through the tunnel, making a gentle purring noise.

Ben stuck a tentative hand
against the side of the carriage, where a window would have been, and
felt an unseen barrier. He poked it, softly, then harder – the
barrier bent his finger painfully.

“Some sort of invisible
shield,” Ben said.

Charlie had his hand
half-extended, perhaps wanting to touch it, but not quite daring.

“The technology doesn’t
exist for that yet,” Charlie said.

“Maybe it’s not
technology,” Ben said after a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe it’s something
else. Something other than science.”

“Please, don’t go
there,” Charlie said, massaging his temples.

“Is the prospect of magic
any more outrageous than a dragon train?”

Charlie had no reply and Ben
decided not to press the matter. Instead he turned his attention to
the tunnel, which was now just a blur.

“If we were going 40mph
before, what are we doing now?”

“It’s hard to be
accurate, but I would say at least 300mph.” Charlie tapped his
fingers together. “Which means, if we maintain this speed, we
will end up somewhere in the Celtic Sea, south-west of England and
west of France.”

“What’s out there?”

“Water, Ben – just
water.”

“No islands or anything?”

“Nothing that far out. The
Isles of Scilly are the closest, but at this rate we will go way past
them.”

“Well then, I’m sure
we’ll slow down,” Ben said.

But for the next forty-five
minutes, the dragon train didn’t slow down. Several times Ben
was tempted to ask one of the other passengers, but the danger of
arousing suspicion always stopped him. Nobody else seemed concerned,
which reassured him, but did nothing to ease his curiosity.

Ben never thought he would get
bored being pulled by a flying dragon in a carriage at 300mph, but he
was grateful when the conductor’s voice finally echoed
throughout the cabin.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we
are approaching Taecia. We will be coming out of Dragon Flight
momentarily. For those of you travelling onwards, please note that
all transport to Aven is currently suspended while the Empire
determines whether they are now hostile. Have a pleasant day.”

“What was that?”
Charlie asked.

“God knows. File it for
later. We’re about to stop.”

Ben had barely finished his
sentence when the carriage suddenly broke hard. His stomach squashed
against the metal bar and the train’s wheels screeched as they
touched the ground. There was another bang and the invisible barrier
vanished, letting the rushing air in. Soon the dragon was cantering
along no faster than a horse.

The tunnel started heading
upwards and they began ascending.

“This isn’t
possible,” Charlie said. His fingers were white, holding the
metal bar in a death grip. “We’re going to pop up in the
middle of the sea.”

Ben saw bright sunlight rapidly
approaching as they neared the surface.

“Let’s see, shall
we?” Ben said, grinning at Charlie’s horrified face. “You
might be wrong.”

“I’m not wrong,”
Charlie said, breathing so quickly that he was almost
hyperventilating. “Did you know I can’t swim?”

They
weren’t in the middle of the sea. They had emerged into what
loosely resembled an overground train station, with platforms left
and right, some of them occupied by other squat dragons pulling
carriages. Above the platforms was a walkway that crossed over the
tracks. Their train came to a gentle stop, signalled by a jet of
smoke from the dragon's nostrils. Ben pulled the handle, the door
swung open and he stumbled out.

There was so much to see Ben
didn’t know where to look first. His attention was drawn to the
people; they ranged from the ordinary to off-the-wall. Some had
pointed ears so subtle he barely noticed until they passed by. Others
were over seven feet tall and looked carved from rock. Then there
were those no higher than his waist, with beards that swept the
ground. In the middle of the platform was a large map illustrating a
complex network of rail lines. Most of the station names he didn't
recognise, but he did spot Croydon, as well as other familiar places,
like New York, Johannesburg and even Sydney. On top of the sign was a
heading that read “Her Majesty's Dragonway Transport”.

“Excuse me,” a nearby
voice said.

Charlie was standing by the door
of the carriage, stopping people from exiting. Ben hauled him to the
middle of the platform, right next to a sign that read,
“Welcome to Taecia: Founding Kingdom of the Elizabethan Empire
and Home to the Royal Institute of Magic.”

They could have stood there for
hours – Charlie certainly would have – but Ben shook
himself out of his stupor and they wandered down the platform. There
were stairs at the end that led to the overhead walkway and, Ben
assumed, the way out of the station. He constantly fought the impulse
to stop and stare and followed the exit signs that led up to and
along the gangway. Eventually they spilled out into a town that
belonged in another era. The buildings were white, with timber frames
and narrow doors and windows. They looked like Tudor houses, if Ben
remembered his history correctly. The road was cobbled and filled
with horses and other animals Ben was sure only existed in fairytales
and video games.

They collapsed on a nearby bench
and, like tourists, stared at everything that moved.

“Looks like our sun,”
Ben said, glancing up at the clear blue sky.

It was a ridiculous comment, but
instead of scoffing, Charlie just nodded.

“How do you hide an entire
island? It’s not possible.”

Ben didn’t have an answer.
The more he looked around, the more incredible the place became. He
felt like he was dreaming.