by Victor Kloss
“Well, that’s good timing,” Aaron said, with one of his easy smiles. “The question is – are we here to look for the same thing? Because if so, one of us is going to be disappointed and, frankly, I’d rather that wasn’t me.”
Ben didn’t take the bait. “What are you looking for?”
Aaron gave a soft laugh. “Come on, Ben, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to tell you that. We’re not on the same team, remember?”
“So you keep reminding me,” Ben said. “What do you want to do? I’m not leaving this street.”
Aaron clearly wasn’t happy about that, but Ben couldn’t care less. He couldn’t imagine the Institute having them look for the same creature, for it would mean one of them would have to fail. But Aaron looked worried, and Ben wasn’t about to reassure him.
“If you won’t do me the honour of leaving,” Aaron said eventually, “I guess we’ll both wander down this street, until one of us finds something.”
Ben smiled, enjoying Aaron’s displeasure. “Yes, let’s do that.”
Aaron set a purposefully slow pace, which Ben matched. It was an odd moment, both of them examining each passing house. Was Aaron looking for the same signs? One thing was for certain: Ben wasn’t going to give his game away with Aaron around.
A sudden cry from nowhere disrupted Ben’s thoughts and made him jump.
“What was that?” Ben asked, taking his attention off the houses.
He saw the problem immediately, on the open field across from the stream. There was a mother pushing a buggy with a young boy in tow. It was she who had made the cry, and was staring into the small woodland with a look of pure horror.
A huge wolf emerged, stepping out from the woods onto the field. It wasn’t a wolf, Ben realised, but a Ferral dog. It had a huge grizzled body, spiky ears, and long fang-like teeth. It gave an excited growl, and started forwards towards the mother and her children.
“Uh oh – you see that?” Ben asked, turning to Aaron.
Aaron was watching the scene keenly, his hand on his spellshooter. “I see it. Come on, let’s go help.”
Ben didn’t need asking twice. He dashed across the bridge, over the stream, and onto the field. Heart thumping, he sprinted towards the mother and her children, his only thought to get there before the Ferral dog. He made it just in time. The Ferral dog had spotted him and slowed its advance, taking in its new adversary. But its surprise wouldn’t last long, especially when it realised Ben didn’t pose much of a threat.
“Oh, thank you!” the mother said, scrambling to get herself and her boy behind Ben. Her initial reaction at Ben’s obvious youth was dismissed the moment she saw the spellshooter in his hand, and the flashing diamonds over his shoulder.
“No problem,” Ben said, throwing the mother a reassuring smile. He turned to Aaron. “What sort of spell do you—?”
Ben stopped.
Aaron wasn’t with him. To his astonishment, he spotted Aaron across the stream, still on Igloor Street. He hadn’t moved a jot.
“What’s your friend doing?” the mother asked. “Is he going to get more help?”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
He dismissed Aaron’s treachery from his mind and drew his spellshooter. He had only a limited number of spells, and they were meant for the German kobold.
“Are you going to shoot the bad doggy?”
Ben turned, and saw the little boy looking with remarkable lack of fear at the Ferral dog.
“I’m still thinking about it,” Ben admitted, pulling the little boy back, out of harm’s way and into the arms of his mother. What had Natalie said about Ferral dogs? They don’t eat young ones, but that didn’t stop them playing with them. What sort of spells could he use against these things? Now Ben wished he had paid more attention to the section on freakishly large pets during his studies.
“Where do you live?” Ben asked, keeping his voice light, while watching the dog.
“Across the bridge, on Igloor Street,” the woman replied. Despite the danger, she was doing a remarkably good job of remaining calm in front of her kids.
“Okay.” Ben took a deep breath. “As soon as I fire, I want you to start walking to the bridge. Don’t run, as it might attract the dog’s attention. Got it?”
The mother nodded nervously.
Ben set himself and readied his spellshooter. He mentally sifted through the spells in his orb. There wasn’t really any he could spare, but he had to use something.
“Get ready!”
Ben fired a small fireball right into the Ferral dog’s nose.
The dog roared. The mother grabbed her buggy and child, and headed for the bridge. Ben stood fast, placing himself between the dog and the fleeing family.
The Ferral dog was rattled, and shook its ragged fur furiously. Ben hoped it would retreat back into the small woodlands. But it didn’t. Instead, it shook itself down and gave Ben a rather unpleasant look, green eyes shining with malevolence.
Ben couldn’t afford to waste any more spells, unless he wanted to sacrifice any chance of capturing the German kobold.
The Ferral dog hunched down, ready to strike.
With a curse of frustration, Ben holstered his spellshooter, and raised his arms, tensing himself.
“You want to fight?” Ben growled. “Let’s do this.”
Before the dog could move a muscle, Ben leapt right at him, diving into the dog’s broad shoulders with everything he had. It was only surprise that gave Ben any sort of chance, for it was clear the Ferral dog was not used to being attacked by a human.
They both went down in a heap – Ben punching and scrapping; the Ferral dog trying to get its mighty claws and jaws to bear. Ben managed to avoid them for a few valuable seconds, but eventually he cried out in pain, as the dog dug his teeth into Ben’s arm. A solid knee into the dog’s underbelly quickly released the jaws. Ben felt dizzy, blood seeping along his shirt, but the Ferral dog’s appetite for combat was also starting to wane. Summoning the last of his strength, Ben thumped the dog squarely in the jaw, like a prize fighter going for the killer blow. The Ferral dog had had enough. With a yelp, it tore away from Ben, and fled back into the woodland.
Ben lay flat on his back in the grass, panting, pain raking through his body. He seemed to be stinging everywhere, and his skin was a mass of red welts. Elation at victory temporarily revived him, and he stood up; but another look at his injured body promptly had him sitting down again. He tenderly wiped away the blood as best he could, and stumbled to his feet. From across the bridge, he could see the mother staring at him. He gave her a reassuring wave, but it took a little time to hobble along the field and over the bridge to re-join her.
“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” she asked, the moment she saw his state. She extracted a bunch of baby wipes from her nappy bag and started dabbing his exposed scratches.
“Ow! I’m fine, thanks,” Ben said. “Just a little scratched. Nothing that won’t heal.”
“I cannot thank you enough,” the mother said, reluctantly putting the baby wipes away. “I shall be reporting your bravery to the Institute – it is exemplary. You know, I’ve walked along here for years now and never encountered any Ferral dogs before.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial manner. “Do you think it has anything to do with any of the dark elf rumours? I’ve heard they are causing all sorts of trouble.”
Ben shrugged. “Possibly. I wouldn’t worry about it too much, but it might be wise to walk somewhere else in future, just in case.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” She gave Ben one more look of gratitude. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?”
Ben turned and glanced down the neighbourhood. “You didn’t see my friend, did you?”
“No – he left as soon as I came across the bridge, which was a shame because I wanted to have a few words with him.”
Ben smiled. “I would have liked to have seen tha
t.”
Had Aaron found what he was looking for or had he moved on? It didn’t much matter now.
“You said you live around here, right?” Ben asked.
“Yes – why?”
Ben ran a hand through his hair. “I know it’s a long shot, but I’m on duty for the Institute, trying to track down an Unseen that shouldn’t be here. They aren’t easy to find, but they do have one distinctive giveaway, and that’s their smell.”
The mother brightened immediately. “Tomato ketchup?”
Ben grinned. “That’s it! Have you smelled anything like that around here recently?”
In a way of acknowledgement, the mother started pushing the buggy down the street. As they approached the corner, Ben got his first whiff – it was faint, but unmistakable.
“These three houses have all complained of the smell in the last forty-eight hours,” the lady said. “I’ve also heard rumours that they’ve been complaining about their basements.”
Ben’s heart quickened. “What sort of complaining?”
“Noises, mainly,” the lady said. “Things being moved. Smells. I don’t think any of them have had the courage to investigate. Your timing might be perfect.”
“Let’s hope so,” Ben said. “Thank you very much, that’s very helpful.”
“It’s the very least I can do,” the mother said. With one last effusive thank you, she left at a pace that suggested she was eager to get off the street, and Ben didn’t blame her.
He turned his attention to the three houses, hands on hips. Helping the mother had proved to be a stroke of good fortune. Instead of a whole neighbourhood to search, he was already down to three houses. Ben glanced at his watch – 2:45pm, which gave him just over an hour to try to locate and capture the German kobold. Ignoring the urge to hurry, he began circling each of the houses, focusing his attention on the foundations and concentrating on the smell. It took a dozen passes, but the subtle scratches and crumble of cement on the corner house left Ben in little doubt that he had his most likely candidate. To top it off, the smell of ketchup was definitely stronger.
Ben attempted to tidy himself up, momentarily regretting not allowing the mother to indulge him with a few more of those baby wipes. He did as best he could, making sure there was no blood showing and grimacing while he scraped off the last little bits of red on his arms. There wasn’t much he could do about the raw scratches, except cover them up as best he could.
Ben climbed the little stairs to the front door and gave a confident rap. For a moment, he thought nobody was in, but after a minute waiting impatiently, a chubby lady with rosy red cheeks opened the door.
— Chapter Eleven —
The German Kobold
“Hello?” she said in a crisp voice that was perhaps a little more defensive than Ben might have expected.
Ben put on his most relaxed smile. “Hi there. My name is Ben Greenwood – I work at the Institute. I understand you’ve been having some problems with an Unseen in your basement? I’m here to help.”
It was a long shot, but Ben went direct. He didn’t have time to come up with an alternative plan. Fortunately, the lady’s suspicious glance quickly gave way to an agreeing nod.
“Aye, I have,” she said. “Just these last two days.”
She beckoned him in. Ben waited politely in the hallway while the woman shut and then, to his surprise, bolted the door.
“This way,” she said, directing him straight to a narrow flight of stairs that went both up and down. Now that they were safely inside the house, the lady gave him a more thorough look, noting the two flashing diamonds over his shoulder.
“You are an apprentice?” she asked.
“I am.”
Ben was expecting some disgruntlement, but instead she just shrugged. “Better than nothing. The Institute is so busy these days that I never thought I’d get any help at all. Do you know what you’re doing? I don’t want my house destroyed.”
Confidence, that was key. The lady needed reassuring, and he didn’t blame her. Ben, after all, was a barely sixteen-year-old apprentice, who probably looked a little worse for wear.
“I believe you have a German kobold in your basement,” Ben said, placing his hands authoritatively behind his back. “They can be troublesome and are best removed as quickly as possible, before they decide to domesticate the place.”
The lady paled. “I had a feeling from the smell that it was a kobold. How bad are German ones?”
“They can be dangerous, if not dealt with properly,” Ben said diplomatically. “However, I have everything at hand, and should have the matter wrapped up in less than an hour.”
“Are you sure?” the lady said, looking at him doubtfully.
No, I’m completely winging it, Ben wanted to say. I’ve never tackled a German kobold before, and I’m exhausted from fighting that Ferral dog. Instead, he smiled.
“I don’t anticipate any problems.”
The lady gave him one final look, and then nodded.
Ben started down the stairs, and then turned back. “You might hear some noises and scrapes. Please, whatever you do, don’t come down after me; it will only make things more dangerous.”
He turned and continued down into the basement, before she had a chance to change her mind. It got dark and cold remarkably quickly, and all of a sudden Ben could see his breath in front of his face. Though he walked softly, his breathing alone would have woken any suspects below. At the end of the stairs was a closed door. Ben drew his spellshooter and approached it cautiously. He took a deep breath.Focus. Remember everything you have learnt. This is no ordinary kobold.
Ben felt in his pocket for the reassuring collar and rope. Then, with a small intake of breath, he turned the handle, and pushed open the door.
The room was larger than he had expected, with a small, dingy light hanging from the ceiling. Ben absorbed everything as quickly as possible, looking for signs of life. The place was a storage area, and not a very good one. Boxes littered the floor, many half open, others packed to the brim with clothes and other peculiar objects particular to living life in the Unseen Kingdoms. Ben’s curiosity was piqued by the old armour collecting dust in one corner and a large stack of hay in the other – for pets possibly? Above him the low-hanging ceiling was constructed of wooden beams, with plenty of dark spaces for hiding.
Dark spaces. The German kobold was drawn to dark spaces. Ben eyed the ceiling closely, but saw no sign of movement. With his spellshooter primed and ready, he methodically worked his way into a corner, and started poking round for a closer inspection. His nose twitched. The smell of ketchup was so strong here it was as if someone had started a factory in the basement. With heart-stopping certainty, Ben knew that the kobold was here, somewhere.
The problem was they were rather good at hiding, especially if they didn’t want to be found. And if they did, you were normally the last to know about it. Ben used his spellshooter to move items aside to try to get a better look at things. He found nothing of interest, and his eyes were starting to sting, trying to see in the dark. It was time for his first spell. A flash of light ignited from his spellshooter, giving him better visibility instantly.
A scratching noise made Ben trip up on a box of clothes. Ben flung his arms out to try to catch himself, and looked up, heart hammering. There! In the ceiling, a shadow flickered. It disappeared before he could place it, certainly before he could target it.
Ben scrambled to his feet and tried to stop breathing, but it was no good. Whatever he had seen was no longer there. Or was it? The kobold could go practically invisible at the drop of a hat. For all he knew, it could be above his head right now, ready to launch itself at him.
Well, the sneak attack obviously wasn’t going to work. That left only one other option.
Ben cleared his voice, and spoke in an authoritative tone. “I know you’re up there. Come down and let’s talk.”
As far
as opening salvoes, it wasn’t the greatest, but Ben was rewarded with another scraping noise and a further flicker of movement. Now that he had spotted the kobold, Ben felt a little more confident, though the nerves soon started flaring again the moment it disappeared. Ben slowed his breathing once more to create silence, but the kobold was remarkably light on its feet, and it was only when he really strained that he could hear the creature walking across the wooden beams above. Ben tried to track the movement at ground level. He felt for the spells inside his orb – he had only a dozen, and he needed to choose wisely. Shoot now or wait?
“I’m going to give you one further warning,” Ben said, raising his voice a little. “Come down and talk, or I will bring you down.”
There was a soft cackle from above. “You come up, little boy!”
Ben caught the condescending tone in the kobold’s voice, but he wasn’t fazed. He pointed his spellshooter up at the rafters.
“Last chance, kobold,” Ben said. “I’m going to blast the whole place down if I need to. You know I can.”
Ben thought his threat sounded empty, so he was surprised when he heard a light thump hit the ground. Ben stepped backwards instinctively, and then cursed himself for the sign of weakness.
“Now what, little boy?” the kobold said.
To Ben’s surprise, he found himself looking at a creature that didn’t resemble a goblin at all – there was a confidence in those eyes, and intelligence. Physically too, they were different. The kobold had a long alligator jaw. He had scaly skin that was hidden by light leather armour, giving him a more primaeval appearance, compared to the street goblin Ben had faced in the previous exam. But there was nothing primaeval about the way he stood or talked. In his hand was a small spear, the tip of which glowed a dull red.
Ben knew immediately that any sort of diplomacy was going to be difficult, but he had to try.
“I am going to return you back to Germany,” Ben said in a clear voice. “Whether you come peacefully or not is entirely up to you. However, any resistance to arrest will be met with the full force of the law.”
