by Victor Kloss
There was an excited chatter as they left the muster room. Aaron was immediately accosted by several apprentices, and they were all talking about the same thing.
"…you’re going to run, right?”
"…you’re going to smoke it.”
"…I bet no one else even gets six votes. You’ll win by default!”
Aaron rose both hands in a calming gesture. “Let’s not go overboard. I’m sure there will be several other nominations that I will have to overcome.”
Aaron gave a meaningful glance at Ben, who returned it with a shrug. He had no intention of running, but he wasn’t going to tell Aaron that. Thankfully, Aaron and his entourage continued towards the grand staircase, and Ben took a right, into the common room. He collapsed onto a couch, along with Charlie and Natalie.
“Is it just me or does anyone else find Aaron unbelievably arrogant?” Natalie asked, tugging her hair irritably.
“I just try to zone him out,” Charlie replied. “It’s hard, though; his voice has a way of penetrating your ear drums.”
Ben slouched back on the couch. “I’ll tell you one thing – unless this Chief gig comes with a bonus of a thousand pounds a week, I won’t be running.”
“What does a Chief Three do exactly?” Charlie asked.
“Quite a lot, actually,” Natalie said. “I was Chief One during my first grade. You have all the obvious stuff, like helping and looking out for your fellow third-graders. You are also supposed to be the only person who can personally approach Dagmar, but we kind of make a mockery of that. Then there are the bonus points on your record, which helps when the Institute decides whether or not to take you on as a full member.”
Ben gave an unimpressed shrug. “So, basically just more responsibility and work. Not really my thing.”
“There are some perks,” Natalie said. “But I’m not sure what they are for the Chief Three.”
“Well, I’ll pass,” Ben said.
“I’m not sure that will be that easy,” Charlie said.
“What do you mean?”
Charlie pointed at three apprentices coming their way, headed by Simon, with his mass of ginger hair and a gawking grin.
“Ben!” he said. “I’ve been looking for you. Good news, we’ve got your six votes already. You’re in!”
Ben sat up sharply. “What are you talking about? I don’t want to run for Chief Three.”
“Oh, I know,” Simon said, smiling. “That’s why I got the votes behind your back.”
To Ben’s surprise, his own outrage was not matched by Charlie and Natalie, who were both smiling with amusement.
“I don’t get it,” Ben said, running a hand through his ruffled hair. “Why me? If you’re into it, why don’t you get votes for yourself?”
“Me?” Simon said, pointing a finger at himself. “Are you serious? I wouldn’t have a chance against Aaron.”
“Aaron? Is that what this is all about?”
“Yes. You are the only person who has a hope of beating him. And the third grade will become a nightmare if Aaron becomes Chief Three, especially for me.”
“There has to be someone else,” Ben said. “What about Will?”
“Already asked him. He’s not allowed to run, as he’s expected to progress to the fourth grade soon.”
Ben struggled for words. He was flattered, yet his original sentiment towards running for Chief Three remained. “I don’t have a chance against Aaron either. He’s Mr. Popular.”
“You will probably lose,” Simon admitted with a shrug. “But it’s not a certainty. We’ve done a survey. Many of those who Aaron hasn’t managed to capture with his massive ego are on the fence, and there are a few who hate him almost as much as we do.”
Ben gave them a sincere smile. “Let me think about it.”
“Okay, but you don’t have long,” Simon said. “Think about how much worse Aaron would be if he won. His head would be so big he wouldn’t be able to get inside the Institute.”
“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” Charlie asked.
“No. He would just call a committee and somehow convince them to widen the entrance.”
Another apprentice caught Simon’s eye, and he hurried after him. “Hey, John, wait a sec! You hate Aaron as well, right? I’ve got a great plan.”
Ben watched as Simon and his friends chased John out the door, and then sunk back into the couch.
“I really don’t want to run for Chief Three,” Ben said. He turned to Charlie and Natalie for support. “Even if I did, I don’t have enough time with everything that’s going on. We’re going to Drinkmorr tomorrow, remember?”
Charlie was surprisingly non-committal. “It’s not a big deal. And Simon’s right when he says you’re the only one who has a chance against Aaron.”
Natalie nodded. “It’s worth a shot, right? You’ve got nothing to lose.”
“Except losing itself,” Ben said. “I don’t like losing.”
Nevertheless, Ben had trouble taking his mind off the Chief Three election while he worked on his apprenticeship that morning. His accuracy was below his impeccable standard when practising with his B3 during spellshooter practice. He didn’t want to be Chief Three, of that he was certain, but there were two things that nagged at him. The first was that, like Simon, he couldn’t stand the thought of Aaron taking the role and having some authority over him. The other factor was that he felt bad about the people rooting for him. He didn’t like letting people down.
If he did fight Aaron for Chief Three, did he have any chance of winning? He was no closer to an answer when he headed down the grand staircase for lunch.
— Chapter Thirty —
Aaron’s Warning
“Ben Greenwood!”
Ben turned and saw a small, chubby girl bounding down the stairs, pigtails bouncing.
“Thank goodness I found you,” she said, huffing and puffing, despite the fact that she had been going down, not up, the stairs. “Mr. D’Gayle needs to see you right away.”
“Still his messenger boy, then, Sophie?” Ben said with a smile.
Sophie raised her chin. “Yep. Fended off three different candidates in the last month. I think he’s really starting to trust me.”
“That’s great,” Ben said, just about managing to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “Can this meeting wait till after lunch? I’m hungry.”
Sophie was shaking her head before Ben had even finished speaking. “I’m afraid not. I’ve already spent almost half an hour searching for you. If you went for lunch, you’d be another hour. Aaron wouldn’t like that at all.”
Ben couldn’t care less what Aaron did or didn’t like, but he caught Sophie’s worried glance when she realised he might refuse. He bowed, and extended an arm.
“Lead on.”
Sophie immediately did an about-turn and bounded back up the stairs with Ben in tow. She didn’t stop until she reached the Diplomacy floor.
“Mr. D’Gayle negotiated with some big cheese in the Diplomacy Department to allow him to use one of the negotiating rooms for his meetings,” Sophie said.
She stopped at a room marked “Negotiating Room #3”.
“Wait here a moment,” she instructed, extending a hand to make sure he didn’t barge past her into the room.
She gave a timid knock.
“You may enter,” Aaron said from the other side of the door, his smooth voice somehow seeming to penetrate the wood.
Sophie waved to Ben, and he followed her inside.
In the middle of the room was a long, expensive-looking table, surrounded by luxurious leather chairs. On one of those chairs was Aaron, sitting with his legs crossed, smoking a Toogle. He blew out and sent a ring of coloured smoke to the ceiling. Ben managed to refrain from pinching his nose. He never liked the sweet smell of those cigarette-like objects. It was said that if you stared at the smoke too much, you could start craving them.
“Ah, Sophi
e, well done,” Aaron said, gracing her with a dazzling smile. “I thought our target might have escaped to lunch, but you caught him just in time.”
Sophie blushed with pride, and then stammered something unintelligible before excusing herself from the room.
“Please, take a seat, Ben,” Aaron said, waving a hand expansively. “They are far nicer than the logs they give us in the common room.”
“I’ll stand, thanks. I’m sure this meeting won’t take long, and I’m hungry.”
“Fair enough,” Aaron said. “Though I confess myself surprised at your willingness to eat the sewage they serve downstairs. Myself, I try to go home as often as possible, though one does have to show one’s face now and again and eat with the masses. It’s a small sacrifice compared to the good will generated.”
Ben sighed. He didn’t think it possible, but somehow he managed to like Aaron less every time they spoke. “You wanted to see me?”
“Straight to the point, I see,” Aaron said. He took another extensive puff of his Toogle. “I’m sure you know what I want to talk about.”
Ben had a good idea, but he put on an air of disinterest. “Nope.”
“Liar,” Aaron said with another flash of his perfect teeth. “I’ve called you here to discuss the Chief Three election.”
“What about it?”
“Well, I’m sure you’re aware that you and I will be the only two apprentices with enough votes,” Aaron said.
“Someone else might get enough.”
Aaron shook his head. “I highly doubt it. Most of the apprentices will choose me, and those who don’t will choose you.”
“You seem confident,” Ben said.
“Oh, I will win, and convincingly,” Aaron said, as if the election had already been decided. “But, after much deliberation, I think it would look better if I win without a challenger. That will better reflect my dominance and, more importantly, look more impressive on my résumé. Nobody has ever won a Chief Three election outright before.”
Ben frowned. “So, you want me to pull out?”
“Exactly. And in return, I will make you my official number two. That will annoy many of my supporters, but you know what, who cares?”
Aaron smiled at his own joke. Ben just stared, barely believing the words that were coming out of Aaron’s mouth.
“You offered me such a position before,” Ben said slowly. “I turned it down, remember?”
“I do,” Aaron said. He re-crossed his legs. “However, much has changed. We were almost equals then, but my support now vastly outweighs yours. So, I would strongly advise you to re-consider my offer.”
Ben almost laughed at Aaron’s conceit, it was so absurd. It was as if he was completely oblivious to Ben’s opinion of him. Did Aaron not remember the way he had acted on the second-grade exam? Ben still had half a mind to whack him one. But even as he considered the matter, he came up with a better idea. Up until thirty seconds ago, Ben had been leaning against running.
“You know what?” Ben said. “I think I’m going to run after all.”
Aaron’s lip twitched – just a fraction, before he re-composed himself with an oily smile. “It is your choice, of course, but I think you’re making a mistake. The odds are heavily stacked against you.”
Ben shrugged, starting to enjoy himself. “I’ve never cared much about odds. I’m more of a gambler.”
Aaron’s eyes flashed with annoyance, but he managed to contain himself by taking a long drag of his Toogle and lifting his head upwards, watching the coloured smoke rise.
“You realise that I will crush you?” Aaron said, turning back to Ben with a sympathetic smile. “If I can’t win by default, my next best option is to win by a landslide.”
Ben shrugged. “Whatever.”
Aaron put down his Toogle on the table and stood up. Ben always forgot how tall Aaron was, and well-built too. He might only be eighteen, but he could easily be modelling in a sports magazine.
The charming smile and easy-going manner vanished.
“This is your last warning,” Aaron said in a soft, dangerous voice. “If you choose to fight me, I will undermine you at every turn. What is left of your reputation will be left in tatters.”
The strength in Aaron’s voice, coupled with his imposing stance, would have made most people back down. But not Ben. Aaron’s warning achieved the exact opposite of its intention. Ben stepped forwards, until his forehead was almost touching Aaron’s nose, and looked up into those cold eyes with enough fire to set the room alight.
“If I start to hear any lies about me, I am going to beat the crap out of you. Got it?”
Aaron looked uncomfortable with Ben’s proximity, but he didn’t back down. “You’re in dreamland if you think you can take me on. Look at you – you’re half my size.”
“Really?” Ben said, and gave a little smile. “Shall we see, then? How about a fight, right now? No weapons, just fists.”
The flash of fear in Aaron’s eyes was unmistakable.
“What, now?” he stammered. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Ben was sorely tempted to hit Aaron with an uppercut, but now wasn’t the time. He stepped back, and gave Aaron one more meaningful stare, before leaving the room, and heading down to lunch. Charlie and Natalie had saved him a space, and he quickly filled them in on his meeting with Aaron.
“I wish you had hit him,” Charlie said, when Ben had finished.
Natalie smiled. “So do I. That guy gets creepier by the day.”
“He is quite something,” Ben agreed, munching on his fish and chips. “So, now what?”
“The nominations get announced tomorrow morning. After that you have a week to get as many votes as possible.”
“How am I supposed to do that? We’re supposed to be doing something slightly more important.”
“Your support team is supposed to do a lot of it,” Natalie said. “Unfortunately, your support team consists of Simon and his two friends, who are probably more likely to lose you votes, rather than gain them.”
“Great. Well, they’ll have to do, as I don’t have time to do it myself.”
Natalie frowned, and pointed a fork at him. “You’re going to have to do some work, Ben. Your only chance – and it’s a small one – is if you get involved. I know you don’t believe it, but some people in the third grade look up to you.”
“Whatever for?” Ben asked with genuine surprise.
“Well, for the guys, I think it’s because you’re so good with a spellshooter, and I think that duel you had really impressed a few people. As for the girls, well, I guess some of them like you.”
Ben was careful to ignore the fact that Natalie blushed, her tanned face going a pretty shade of red.
“Okay, I’ll do something once we get back from Drinkmorr tomorrow.”
Ben spent the rest of the day feeling strangely torn. He was not looking forward to the whole Chief Three nomination process; the idea of having to go round to his fellow third-grade apprentices and try to win their votes did not appeal to him one bit. On the other hand, his heart gave an excited flutter every time he thought about going to Drinkmorr. They were on the cusp of finding the third Guardian. Time was running out, with the dark elves an ever increasing threat and his parents stuck in the void. If they drew a blank in Drinkmorr, they would be out of options. They couldn’t fail. It was with those thoughts that Ben fell to sleep that night.
— Chapter Thirty-One —
Journey to Drinkmorr
Ben had trouble sitting still on the Dragonway the following morning. His eagerness and excitement to venture into Drinkmorr were only slightly dampened by the nomination process he would have to go through in the morning muster. To his surprise, Charlie also appeared unusually upbeat.
“Drinkmorr is supposed to be pretty cool,” Charlie explained, when Ben enquired as to his cheery mood. “It has a lot of fascinating history
.”
Chief Three nominations replaced talk of Drinkmorr as they made their way up the hill to the Institute.
“Don’t worry about it,” Charlie said. “You don’t have to do anything.”
“I’m not worried,” Ben said, slightly insulted.
Charlie kicked an idle pebble on the cobbled path. “Well, you should be. Per my calculations, you’re going to get hammered, unless we pull off a miracle or Aaron somehow suddenly has a freak accident and can no longer run.”
Charlie’s words did nothing to help Ben’s mood; the worst thing was, they were true: he was going to need a miracle. It was with that slightly depressing thought that he entered the muster room and Dagmar did roll call.
“All dismissed, except third-graders,” Dagmar said.
Ben could feel an excited tension in the air, as they waited for the other apprentices to leave. As Ben looked around at the intense expressions of his fellow third-graders, he realised that this Chief Three gig really meant something.
Dagmar waited for total silence, and Ben strongly suspected several apprentices had stopped breathing.
“The results for the nominations for the Chief Three candidates are in,” Dagmar said to a hushed audience. “There are just two candidates – Aaron D’Gayle and Ben Greenwood.”
A cheer went up as the names were called. Ben gave a little smile to mask his disappointment. He had hoped that another candidate might have sneaked in to deflect the attention from himself and possibly take some votes from Aaron.
Dagmar’s laser-like gaze went to Ben and Aaron. “Do you both accept your candidacy?”
Aaron nodded his head solemnly. All eyes suddenly turned to Ben, and he too gave a nod, though without the ceremony Aaron lent to it. To his surprise, Dagmar gave him the subtlest of frowns. It was barely noticeable, but for Dagmar it spoke volumes. Did she disapprove? Of course, she knew how important their quest to find Elizabeth’s Armour was. Did she view this as an unnecessary distraction?
“Candidates, you have seven days to campaign. This time next week, I will announce the winner. Dismissed.”
As soon as Dagmar left the room, many of the apprentices crowded round Aaron, wishing him good luck and clapping him on the back. Some even started chanting his name. It got worse when they turned on Ben, singing Aaron’s name at him in a taunting melody.
