Chapter Eight

The 11:30 Meeting

Elizabeth led the way out of the sitting room and down the twisting maze of hallways towards the Main Hall. James couldn’t stop thinking about what lay ahead of them. Just then a thought dawned on him; this was not necessarily anything special. Could this not just be a lesson to help James catch up? 

Why would Elizabeth have been asked to come? he reasoned with himself. 

They were very near to the main hall when James heard the pitter-patter of small feet behind him. He turned to see Tyre racing to catch up, scurrying along the wooden floor on all fours.

‘Yer cud hev weted fur me!’ Tyre huffed as he climbed, exhausted, onto James’ shoulder, his heavy form making James lean slightly to one side.

‘Tyre, are you allowed to come with us?’ Elizabeth asked, as they continued on to the Main Hall.

‘Eye shud due,’ he complained. ‘Eye am hes familiar, tes a byndin’ majik contract!’ he finished, hitting his hand with a fist. The three followed the halls as they interweaved and crisscrossed in dizzying displays of complex architecture. Soon they came to the familiar stone wall, knocked twice, and then stepped swiftly through. They rounded the corner into the doors at the end of the long entrance corridor and stepped into the Main Hall.

Large torches along the walls cast fleeting light across the room; the darkness only truly quelled by a large chandelier that hung heavily from the ceiling, bathing the chamber in a moody ambiance. A line of large chairs was positioned to face them; about twenty people sat in them, mostly made up of the staff – along with Bloodstone and his men. In the centre of the line was a larger chair; in it sat Tobias Fletcher, his beard looking as bushy as ever against his pale blue robes.

‘Ah, Elizabeth, James,’ Fletcher beamed, his eyes drifted to James’ shoulder, ‘Tyre,’ he said looking over his thin glasses, ‘I suppose I should not be surprised to see you here.’

‘Eye haf an ryght tu be here,’ he began forcefully but then stopped and looked questioningly to Fletcher, ‘dunt eye?’

Fletcher smiled and nodded. ‘I don’t see the harm in it, as long as you realize that what is spoken in this room cannot be uttered to anyone else.’

Tyre nodded vigorously, but Fletcher held up a finger. ‘Not even Sebastian,’ Fletcher ordered firmly.

Tyre opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it.

‘Now, James, Elizabeth, I suppose you’re wondering why you have been called here tonight,’ Fletcher began. 

James and Elizabeth nodded silently, waiting patiently for an explanation. 

‘Does this have anything to do with what James told you about Horace?’ Elizabeth abruptly asked.

‘It is unfortunate, but yes, it has everything to do with that,’ Fletcher frowned.

‘Can we just get on with it?’ Bloodstone croaked. All eyes turned to the man in the dark tattered coat, his hands hung lazily over the sides of the chair, a wand gripped in one fist. ‘Tell them what we propose; they might agree.’ 

A wave of murmuring and whispers erupted. Fletcher looked concernedly at Elizabeth and James. 

‘I agree with, Barabius,’ a smooth, almost hypnotic, voice sounded from the shadows behind the line of chairs. 

The whispering silenced immediately.

The visage of a shirtless man emerged from the shadows; his features were beyond fair, and he seemed to almost shimmer in the warm torchlight. A moment more passed, and his whole body stepped into the light. Before them stood the torso of a man on the body of a horse.

‘You’re a Centaur!’ Elizabeth exclaimed, an exuberant smile on her face.

‘I have, in fact, come to notice that about myself,’ the Centaur smiled. His coat was black, save a strip of crimson down the centre of his back. His eyes were a powerful pale green, and he commanded confidence as he stood forward, his fists on his hips.

‘We can no longer hide the truth from these two if we hope to ask for their help,’ the Centaur said.

‘Thank you, Xavier, Barabius, but I was about to tell them,’ Fletcher insisted.

‘Then by all means, Tobias, continue,’ the Centaur named Xavier said.

Fletcher smiled at the Centaur; then, after a moment, turned to Elizabeth and James, ‘My dear children, I’m afraid we have not been completely truthful with you concerning the dangers you face here.’ Fletcher paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, his eyes looked distant. ‘The Fifth Order is a much greater threat than we have told you; they are, even now, gaining strength and threaten to destroy our very way of life.’

Elizabeth shook her head. ‘We appreciate your honesty,’ she said, ‘but shouldn’t you discuss defence with Mister Bloodstone?’

‘Yes, yes, under normal circumstances we would.’ He held up a finger and frowned. ‘However, recent events that involve the both of you have brought us to an impasse, and a choice must be made… a favour must be asked.’ 

James tried to shake off the notion that was prickling at the back of his mind, but try as he might, it would not be fade. 

‘We must ask for your help,’ Xavier said as another wave of whispering fluttered through the line of seated men and women.

‘As you no doubt know,’ Fletcher went on, cutting short the whispers, ‘Horace Bleggard is a Gatekeeper,’

Elizabeth gasped, and James felt the prickling in the back of his mind flare up again. He saw the frustration that had built on Bloodstone’s face now come to fruition.

‘To properly defend ourselves against the impending attack, we need the world to have a living supply of magic again; and we need our refuge once more,’ Bloodstone grumbled.

James knew the favour they would ask of them. Reason would not let him ignore it a moment longer. Even so, he couldn’t speak, and simply watched as Bloodstone leaned forward, and vocalised his fear.

‘We know that Horace offered to teach you, that means he has chosen you as the next Gatekeepers. We ask that you accept his offer.’

Thick silence fell over the room. James looked to Elizabeth who, like him, seemed shocked beyond words. James glanced to see Tyre, open mouthed, his hands flopped by his side, a look of complete and total astonishment on his face.

‘I-’ Elizabeth started, ‘we, erm…’ 

James couldn’t find a way to express what he was feeling. He had guessed this might be what the meeting would be about, but never really believed they would ask them to learn from Horace. Beyond that, he was a little rattled; he’d been out of the loop for more than a month, and now this? It was a lot for him to digest.

‘Wouldn’t it be dangerous?’ Elizabeth asked, finally able to steady her voice. 

Fletcher bit his lip and smiled a weak smile. ‘I will not lie to you; it could be very dangerous.’ He shook his head. ‘I hate to ask this of you two, but it could very well save the lives of everyone here, and on the larger scale, all magical people across the world.’

James scoffed in amazed disbelief. 

‘What do you expect us to be able to do?’ he asked. ‘I couldn’t understand a word of Horace’s magic, even if I had years to study it.’

Xavier smiled, ‘James, you do not understand it because he has not taught you to understand it.’

‘What does that mean?’ Elizabeth asked. 

Xavier ran a hand through his long black hair. ‘All of us here,’ he began motioning to the host of old teachers and M.P.A. officers, ‘we have all studied Horace’s texts, as have more powerful, more experienced, Wizards, Warlocks, Witches; and many other professors of magic. No one, not one of them, or us, have been able to even scratch the surface of how to perform Gatekeeper magic. Because only a Gatekeeper can understand that magic; and only a Gatekeeper can teach it.’ 

James was taken aback by the forwardness of the Wizards who sat before him, and now, in the back of his mind, a prickling of curiosity sprang to life.

This could be the chance of a lifetime, he thought, what will you think ten years from now if you don’t jump at this? 

James tried to disregard the thought, but he couldn’t.

‘Could you excuse us for one second?’ James asked. Not thinking to wait for a reply, he beckoned Elizabeth a few paces away from the line of teachers and officers.

‘What do you think?’ he asked in a hushed tone. His eyes darted about, before settling on Elizabeth. ‘I mean… What do we do?’

‘I think they’re barking mad, that’s what I think,’ she said, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. 

James shrugged. ‘I don’t know Elizabeth; I just have a feeling,’ he stopped and shook his head, ‘I just feel like we shouldn’t let this pass us by.’

Elizabeth stared at him aghast. ‘James!’ she said, grabbing his shoulder, ‘James, were you shot in the gut, or the head? I know it’s been a while, but… you do remember Horace, the creepy, mad, little man? Looks like a serial killer… Is any of this ringing a bell?’

James nodded, waited a moment, and sighed, ‘I can’t explain it Elizabeth, I just feel we should go with this.’ There was another silence; only the distant mumblings of the teachers disturbing it. 

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. ‘If we die, I’m never talking to you again.’ She smirked, resigned to her decision. James smiled at her. It was true he did feel strongly that they should continue down this path, but he was not sure if he could have continued without the support of his best friend. James looked at Tyre who was still open mouthed on his shoulder.

‘What do you think, Tyre?’ Elizabeth asked. Tyre lurched out of his comatose state, and looked around.

‘Wae huppane?’ Tyre asked, wiping some drool from the corners of his mouth.

‘We said we would do it,’ James explained.

Tyre flinched, his eyes unfocused, and his mouth fell open once more.

James and Elizabeth chuckled.

James felt much like Tyre, he couldn’t believe he had actually agreed to this.

‘Suppose we should tell that lot,’ Elizabeth said, indicating the line of scattered men and women. James nodded, turning to face them.

James smiled weakly, the dour faces echoing none of his goodwill. Xavier looked down at James and Elizabeth, slowly letting a smile cross his face. 

‘Have you reached a decision?’ Fletcher asked, wide-eyed. 

Elizabeth glanced at James one last time, making sure he hadn’t changed his mind. James breathed in a slow, deep breath and nodded at his friend. 

Elizabeth scoffed lightly. Turning back to Fletcher and the others she shrugged. ‘We’ll do it.’