by Victor Kloss
“This isn’t going to work.”
Ben turned, and found William frowning at him. The two of them had spent the last hour campaigning together, though it had passed in a blur.
“What’s going on? You weren’t like this a few hours ago,” William said. “You’re not paying attention. Do you even remember who we just spoke to?”
Ben blinked – he could just make out the backs of a couple of third-graders whom he was fairly certain he’d just made a speech to.
“Frank and Henry, wasn’t it?” Ben said, trying his luck.
“Wrong.” William crossed his arms, and gave him a stern look. “Do you want to win this thing or not? Because I’ve got better things to do with my time if you’re not interested.”
William was possibly the only friend Ben would ever consider revealing his whole Guardian story to, and a small part of him wanted to tell William why he had suddenly lost interest in the election.
“Sorry, you’re right,” Ben said. “I’ve just got a few things on my mind.”
“Anything you want to share?”
“No,” Ben said with a smile. “Okay, where were we? How many people have I lost by acting like an idiot?”
“Only a few,” William said. “But we’re about to run into Christine, and she’s one of the ones who’s on the fence. She’s smart, so you need to be prepared to answer some tricky questions.”
Ben rubbed his hands together, trying to generate genuine enthusiasm and at the same time dismiss thoughts of Krobeg from his mind.
Through sheer force of will, Ben managed to focus on the election the rest of the afternoon, even managing to come up with a few thoughtful responses to Christine’s laser-sharp questions. He went round with William, talking to anyone they could find, even those who were die-hard Aaron fans, on the off-chance they could jolt some sense into them. By the time five o’clock rolled round, he was exhausted.
“Well, I think you’ve got a chance,” William said. “Not a big one, though.”
“Thanks, Will,” Ben said, clapping his friend on his sizeable biceps. They were standing by the Institute entrance and, from the corner of his eye, Ben could just make out Charlie and Natalie standing outside waiting for him. But he refused to be rushed, after all the effort William had put in.
“How does tomorrow work?”
“We have the morning to make our last push. Votes must be in by lunchtime. The announcement will be made at three o’clock.”
Ben felt like a traitor when he looked into Will’s eyes and said, “Sounds like a plan.”
The truth was, he had no intention of being at the Institute tomorrow morning, but he wasn’t going to tell Will that, and they left, with the plan to meet up right after tomorrow morning’s muster.
“I feel awful,” Ben said, as he joined Charlie and Natalie walking down the hill, towards the Dragonway. “Will and the team have been working so hard, and I’m going to completely betray them.”
“Yeah, there’s no getting round that. They’re going to hate you,” Charlie said with a shrug.
“That makes me feel better, thanks,” Ben said.
“They’ll forgive you, eventually,” Natalie said, giving Charlie a pointed stare. “You just have to come up with a really convincing excuse as to why you weren’t able to make it.”
“A family death might do it,” Charlie mused.
Ben wasn’t sure how he felt about such a lie, but the fact that he might be able to come up with something to mitigate tomorrow’s absence brightened him a little. He was finally able to take his mind off the election, and on to their journey to Drinkmorr tomorrow, which brought a whole new range of problems. Would the Shadowseekers have found Krobeg? If so, was he even still alive? They would find out tomorrow.
— Chapter Thirty-Four —
Shadowseekers
Ben met Charlie and Natalie the following morning at London Victoria station. It had only just gone seven o’clock, but the station was still busy with commuters heading to work, oblivious to the world around them.
Charlie was munching on a McMuffin as they headed towards the Underground.
“Ugh, how can you eat that this early?” Natalie asked.
“I’m always hungry in the morning.”
“Aren’t you anxious about today?”
Charlie gave Natalie a confused look. “Of course I am; what’s that got to do with anything?”
“I can’t eat when I’m anxious.”
Charlie tucked the remainder of the McMuffin into his mouth. “Oh, it’s the opposite with me. I eat more when I’m anxious.”
“Moving on from the subject of McMuffins, have either of you thought about a plan?” Ben asked.
Ben knew they were unlikely to be overheard while walking through the Underground, as most people were lost in their music or on their mobiles.
“You’re the plan person,” Charlie said. “Don’t we always just end up doing what you say?”
Ben dodged a business woman who was so intent on her phone that she wasn’t looking where she was going. “Probably, but I want to hear what you guys think about Krobeg. We didn’t exactly leave on good terms.”
“Haven’t a clue,” Charlie said. “It’s not like we’re going there with fresh evidence. Why would he suddenly believe us now?”
“The dark elves,” Natalie said. “We warned him that they might come.”
“But will he believe that they are after him?” Charlie said.
Their conversation stopped as they entered the Underground train, and didn’t start again until they arrived at Old Church Town, where once again they made their way through the small lanes, surrounded by the red brick buildings.
“Natalie’s right: the Shadowseekers are our best hope,” Ben said. “Plus, I still think that Krobeg is hiding something and that some of what I said hit home. Plus, he’s had time to think things over, and possibly change his mind.”
They soon reached the bank by the river, and Ben turned his attention to the building with the secret door. Despite knowing its location, it still took them a good fifteen minutes to find the door handle. Ben took a quick look around, to make sure nobody was watching, and then pulled the door open.
The smell of chocolate hit him, but this time he barely noticed it. He was too busy staring at the axe pointing inches from his chest. A line of stern-faced, armoured dwarves blocked the street.
“State your business,” said the dwarf with the axe at Ben’s chest.
Ben cursed inwardly for not expecting the road block and allowing the surprise to startle him. He thought fast. The tourist plea was his initial response, but the moment the dwarf spotted their spellshooters, he knew that wasn’t going to work. Instead, he revealed the Institute diamonds floating above his shoulder.
“Institute business,” Ben said, trying to mimic Dagmar’s imperious authority.
“You are just apprentices,” the dwarf said, lowering his axe.
Ben raised an eyebrow. “So what? We’re still on official business. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with Dagmar Borovich, Master of Apprentices.”
That did the trick, as Ben hoped it would. The mention of Dagmar’s name made the dwarf take a step back, and the guards parted.
“I have to inform you that, as foreigners, you are not our responsibility. You are aware of the Shadowseekers presently at large?”
“Yes, we are,” Ben said.
The dwarf nodded. “Very well. Move along.”
Chocolate Street was almost deserted. Only a few brave children with their parents were about, and even they ran from shop to shop. The smell was still remarkable, but not quite as strong as before, and Ben spotted more than one shop closed. That theme continued beyond Chocolate Street, and into the main centre of Drinkmorr. Those who ventured out did so in twos and threes, and there were many a furtive glance. Ben spotted several groups of Drinkmorr guards, but even their stern faces were
etched with anxiety. Ben could well understand why. The Shadowseekers were deadly, and could appear from nowhere.
Ben’s own anxiety was not for himself, but for Krobeg. If the Shadowseekers spotted his tavern, and the sign, he would be as good as dead. The thought made him quicken his pace, and place a reassuring hand on his spellshooter.
Ben half-expected a scene of destruction when he spotted the tavern, and let out a sigh of relief when they found it untouched. Unlike several taverns he’d passed, Krobeg’s was still open and, amazingly, still doing business. Was that down to Krobeg’s bravery, stubbornness, or simply a belief that the Shadowseekers would have no reason to pay him a visit? Ben sincerely hoped it wasn’t the last option, as it would make their job of convincing him even harder.
“Look at the sign!” Natalie said, pointing up at the tavern’s signage.
The lettering “Royal Goose” was there, just as before, but the symbol representing the Silver Dwarf had vanished.
“He’s taken it down,” Charlie said, staring up at the sign.
Ben smiled with unexpected hope. “You know what that means? He listened to our warning.”
Natalie gave an excited clap, but Charlie wasn’t convinced, and continued to stare at the signage thoughtfully. Ben wasn’t in the mood for whatever pessimistic thought was going through Charlie’s head. He entered the tavern, and nearly ran right into a couple of patrons leaving. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw that it was almost as busy as before. The bar had a few empty seats, but the restaurant was jammed, and the smell of bacon and sausages filled the air, stimulating Ben’s taste buds.
“Do we have time for another breakfast?” Charlie asked.
“No,” Natalie said firmly.
Ben eyed up the kitchen door. “I bet he’s cooking.”
Charlie nodded. “I agree. We should probably wait until he’s done. Might as well get a quick bite to eat while we wait, no?”
“No,” Ben said. He eyed up a passing waitress and quickly moved forwards, tapping her on the shoulder. “Excuse me, we need to speak to Krobeg.”
The lady gave him a surprised look. “Krobeg? I’m sorry, sir, he’s busy in the kitchen, and cannot be disturbed until breakfast has finished.”
“It’s urgent,” Ben said, giving the waitress a serious look. “I’m sorry, we cannot wait. Tell him it’s about the dark elves.”
Ben clearly said the right thing, for the waitress gave a hurried nod, and dashed off into the kitchen.
Ben, Charlie and Natalie watched the kitchen door intently, waiting for Krobeg to emerge.
“What are we going to say?” Charlie asked.
“I’ve got an idea,” Ben said. “Whatever happens this time, we cannot leave without him.”
“Don’t be too rough, Ben,” Natalie said, giving Ben an anxious look. “And please don’t mention his father, as he clearly has issues with him.”
Ben didn’t have time to reply, for Krobeg, all two hundred pounds of him, came through the door, his eyes searching the tavern. He frowned the moment he spotted them, but Ben took heart in the fact that Krobeg’s face didn’t go red and explode.
“I had a feeling I’d be seeing you again,” Krobeg said.
“You know why we’re here.”
Krobeg glanced at the dining room – a habit perhaps, making sure everything was okay – before turning back to them.
“Come with me,” he said, giving them a wave.
Krobeg led them back into the small private staff room where they had their explosive meeting just a few days ago. This time they remained standing. Krobeg stroked his short, ginger beard, his eyes momentarily distant. While he was considering what to say, Ben decided to jump in.
“You took down the symbol,” he said.
“What? Oh yes. A precaution, just in case.”
Ben pressed on, sensing an opportunity. “Which means you must have believed at least some of what we said.”
“I’m not an idiot,” Krobeg said. His voice was stern, but without malice. “You come and say the dark elves are looking for me, and then Shadowseekers break in to Drinkmorr. They may have nothing to do with me, but if there was any truth in your story, it made sense to take the sign down, for now.”
“So, where does this leave us?” Ben asked, keeping his voice soft, making sure there was no unnecessary accusation.
Krobeg gave a subtle, disbelieving shake of his head. “I have spent many hours thinking about your story. I admit that some of it rings true. I know my father originally came from Jimba, and many of the stories of the Silver Dwarf state he also lived there. I never knew my grandfather; my father rarely spoke of him. I got the feeling that he and my father had a falling out.” Krobeg gave a rueful smile. “It must run in the family.”
Krobeg paused, clearly considering his words. Ben made no move to hurry him.
“As much as I dislike my father, there is no doubting that he is a great mage. If the Silver Dwarf really did exist, I can imagine my father being the sort of person who might have been his son.”
Krobeg stopped, and Ben had to resist the urge to do a fist pump. Instead, he stayed calm, and asked, “So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is me,” Krobeg said with a sudden ironic laugh, patting his enormous stomach. “Look at me. I’m just a chef, not a Guardian. The idea that I might be responsible for defeating Suktar is utterly ridiculous.”
“I thought the same thing,” Ben said with a faint smile. “Your credential is simple – you are the son of your father. That’s how it works. I know it’s crazy, but it’s true. We have found other Guardians and their pieces of armour. We have never been wrong.”
Krobeg rubbed his stomach absentmindedly, and Ben could almost see the cogs turning inside his head. He might be a slow thinker, but he wasn’t stupid – far from it.
“What proof do you have?” Krobeg said eventually. “Your stories are well told, but they are just that: stories – unless you can back them up with evidence.”
“How about the Shadowseekers?” Natalie said, her voice soft. “They are here for you.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Krobeg said.
Proof. It wasn’t the first time they had been asked that question, and Ben wished they had something more tangible. A piece of the armour would do, but it was far too risky parading Elizabeth’s Armour in public. If only he had the sword; he was sure that would do the trick. But he didn’t, and he wasn’t even sure where it was.
“You’re going to have to trust us,” Ben said. He put all his reason and intention behind his voice. “Why would we travel all this way to tell you some nonsense story? Why would we risk coming back into Drinkmorr with Shadowseekers present? If you come with us back to the Institute, we can prove our story, but not here.”
Ben watched Krobeg closely. He was fighting with the idea, but Ben had the horrible feeling it was a losing battle. The words of Krobeg’s father rang again in his ears.Krobeg isn’t like you. Even in the brief time we have been together, I can tell you have the qualities a Guardian needs. My son does not. Ben could see where Krobeg’s father was coming from, but Ben suspected a hidden strength within Krobeg – if only it would come out. After all, he was the grandson of the Silver Dwarf, one of the greatest legends in dwarf history.
Krobeg shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, I just can’t—”
His words were cut off by a scream – multiple screams – making them all jump. Krobeg reacted first, turning and almost yanking the door off its hinges. Ben dashed after him, Natalie and Charlie right behind. Krobeg flew down the corridor, like a bowling ball out of control, crashing into the walls, and knocking off a couple of frames.
Ben followed Krobeg back into the bar, and entered a scene of chaos. Dozens of patrons were flooding out the door. A few of the hardier ones remained with weapons drawn. Many of the staff were looking anxiously out the window. Krobeg grabbed a meat cleaver and thunde
red through the front door. Ben, Charlie and Natalie followed right behind.
Dwarves, humans, and several other races were fleeing down the street, many taking frightened backward glances. A dozen Drinkmorr guards had formed a blockade, axes drawn.
Krobeg marched up to the guard in the middle, who was clearly the leader. “What’s going on?”
The guard turned, his stern expression relaxing a fraction when he saw the giant chef. “Shadowseekers spotted, at least two, heading this way. No place for a cleaver, Krobeg. Get back into your tavern and lock the doors or get out of here. Unless you want to get your axe and help us? We could use it.”
Ben was taken aback by the hopeful expression on the guard’s face. Krobeg, however, turned towards Ben, his face intense.
“I need answers, and I need them now,” Krobeg said, sticking a huge sausage finger at Ben. “Is everything you say true? Because if there is even a doubt of uncertainty, I’m staying here and joining the guards.”
“It’s all true,” Ben said, looking Krobeg right in the eye. Krobeg glanced at his tavern, then at the line of guards, and clenched his sizeable fists. He took a deep breath, his massive stomach heaving. “I hope I don’t regret this. Follow me.”
Before Ben could ask where they were going, Krobeg headed back into the tavern. Ben followed, exchanging confused glances with Charlie and Natalie. They passed the main bar, and headed through another private door, which led to a narrow set of stairs that Krobeg could only just squeeze up. At the top was a small hallway with another series of doors. Krobeg went to the end door, took a large key out, and entered, beckoning them in, before locking the door behind them.
They found themselves in Krobeg’s living quarters, consisting of three rooms, including a predictably large kitchen, a small living space, and a bedroom, with a bed Ben assumed was designed for a giant or a troll. Krobeg, still moving like a kid who has had too much sugar, snatched a long, wooden pole from the corner of the room, and poked the ceiling. A wooden panel swung down, giving access to the loft above. The pole had a small hook at the end, and Krobeg used it to grab and pull down a series of steps.
