The Silver Dwarf (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 4) by Victor Kloss Page A

coming this way, and he clearly hasn’t noticed you yet. Just ease yourself into position.”
    The pixie was clearly troubled. He flew just above the crowd, occasionally knocking his legs into a lumbering giant or a hulking troll. The pixie’s nerves
could help Charlie or they could make things complicated, depending on how Charlie handled it.
    “Here he comes,” Charlie said. He looked just as nervous as the pixie, but to his credit, the moment they locked eyes on each other, Charlie put on a
passable show of authority.
    “Excuse me, Mr. Alendor?” Charlie said, stepping forwards, into the path of the pixie.
    The pixie gave a little start, as he finally clocked Charlie, just feet from his face.
    “Yes,” the pixie said, in a typically high-pitched voice. “What is it?”
    “My name is Charlie Hornberger, and I work for the Institute,” Charlie said, pointing to the stars above his shoulder. He pulled out a letter. “I have been
led to believe that you plan a trip to London without holding the necessary paperwork. Is that correct?”
    “Yes. No – possibly,” the pixie said. There was a growing alarm in his voice, and he made several furtive gestures with his wings that Ben was fairly sure
Charlie hadn’t noticed.
    Stay calm, Charlie , Ben wanted to say. The trick was to let the pixie know they were on the same side.
    Charlie produced a small bracelet from his pocket. “If you agree to wear this tracking bracelet and calmly return home, I will be happy to forget the
matter.”
    Too early! Ben thought. You haven’t won him over yet.
    The pixie looked at Charlie, and then over his head, at the stairs leading up to the Dragonway platforms.
    Ben tensed himself. Charlie, on the other hand, had his arm halfway extended with the bracelet to the pixie, a hopeful smile on his face.
    The pixie bolted, flying right over Charlie’s head, zooming up the stairs.
    Charlie whipped round in astonishment. “Shit! I thought I had him.”
    “Not quite,” Ben said urgently. “Let’s go, you have to get him before he makes it onto the Dragonway.”
    To Charlie’s credit, he responded immediately, reaching for the wooden box, and flying up the staircase. Ben followed just behind. Charlie did a decent job
of avoiding fellow passengers, mainly by screaming “Sorry, excuse me, coming by, Institute business!” at the top of his voice. Ben could just make out the
wings of the pixie as it sped along the bridge that overlooked the platforms. As it approached platform seven, it took a shortcut, and flew over the
bridge, directly towards the platform, avoiding the need for stairs.
    “Oh no you don’t,” Charlie said. He ran right up to the edge of the bridge, stuck his spellshooter through the rails, and trained it on the pixie. Before
Ben had time to ask what he was attempting, Charlie fired a couple of white spell blasts. The first skimmed by the pixie, but the second hit him right in
the back. The pixie’s wings immediately stopped flapping, and the pixie fell the remaining few feet onto the platform. He got up straight away and started
running towards the dragon.
    Charlie darted down the platform stairs, with Ben just behind. To Ben’s amazement, Charlie managed to close the gap on the wounded pixie with some
determined running.
    “Got you!” Charlie cried, and leapt onto the pixie. They both hit the floor. Ben hung back, ready to help, but there was no need. The pixie squirmed and
fought, but it was no match for Charlie’s superior strength. Ignoring the scratches and bruises from the pixie’s sharp nails, Charlie stuffed the squealing
pixie into the wooden box, and slammed it shut.
    Charlie sat, legs sprawled, on the platform floor, huffing and puffing, but with a large smile plastered across his face.
    “That was impressive,” Ben said, hauling Charlie to his feet. “I mean it. The shot under pressure was fantastic, and the way you chased him down was epic.
A few weeks ago you’d never have been able to do