by Victor Kloss
Dagmar looked even wearier than normal, but Ben didn't have time to think about that right now. His attention was on only one thing: the exam.
“Follow me,” Dagmar said.
She led them out of the muster room and along the hallway, stopping at a series of doors Ben hadn't paid much attention to before. They were labelled “Exam Room #1”, “Exam Room #2”, and so on. Dagmar stopped in between rooms four and five. From her pocket she pulled out two small purple envelopes. One had Ben's name written on it; the other Charlie's.
“Do not open these until you are inside the exam room,” she said, handing them the envelopes. “This is not like your ordinary exam you take at school. There are no questions; no right or wrong answers. You will be given a task, and it is up to you how you complete it. The more you can display what you have learnt in each department, the better your marks will be. You have until six o'clock to complete the exam, though the quicker you complete it, the higher you will score. Your final grade will be comprised of individual scores for each department. Failure to complete the exam, or complete it with a score too low, and you will not be invited to continue to the next grade of the apprenticeship. Your performance will be closely monitored by an Institute examiner, though you will not see him, and he will not intervene unless it is a matter of life or death. Any questions?”
Ben knew he'd have some the moment he entered the exam room, but his mind had gone temporarily blank. Charlie looked incapable of speech.
“Very well. You may start the exam.” She gave them the merest flicker of a smile, which was all the encouragement they were going to get from her. “Good luck.”
She walked away, leaving Ben and Charlie alone, staring at their envelopes.
“Good luck, Charlie,” Ben said.
Charlie nodded, returned the sentiment, and walked numbly into room number five. Ben watched him go, and then, preparing himself for anything, pushed open the door to room number four.
The room was bare except for a long table, covered with an expensive-looking tablecloth. On it was a peculiar array of items. There was a file, with several sheets of paper inside. On the cover were the words “Grignak Bronny. Street goblin. ID NO: JK677751”. Next to the file was a plain silver necklace, with a tag that read “JK677751”. Ben recognised the necklace instantly; it was a tracker and could be used to locate a designated Unseen, in this instance, Grignak Bronny. The only other item on the table was money – two hundred pounds, in twenty-pound notes.
Ben made certain there was nothing else on the table, even searching underneath the table cloth. Satisfied there wasn't, he finally took out the envelope that Dagmar had given him, and began reading.
“EXAM: APPRENTICESHIP, FIRST GRADE. BEN GREENWOOD.
Mission Goal:
Find and return Grignak Bronny to the Institute.
Mission Details:
Street goblin Grignak has violated his Institute Travel Card by leaving London and fleeing to the village of Lampton Green. Reason unknown. You are to return Grignak to the Institute in a safe and secure manner. Should the target become hostile, use force as necessary, maintaining discretion at all times.”
Ben read the mission three times, making sure he’d gleaned the significance of every single word. The Institute Travel Card was a legal okay to visit, or even live in, certain parts of the United Kingdom – in Grignak's case, London. It was a way to make sure the population of Unseens remained properly controlled. Violating the terms of your Institute Travel Card was a criminal offence.
Ben folded the message up neatly and tucked it in his pocket, then stared at the file. Inside was a detailed profile of Grignak, the knowledge of which could be crucial when he confronted the goblin. Dagmar's words came floating back to him. “The more you can display what you have learnt in each department, the better your marks will be.” This was clearly an opportunity to demonstrate his Scholar knowledge.
Ben pocketed the money and the necklace, and tucked the file under his arm, before leaving the room. The moment he stepped outside, he noticed that the diamond on his right shoulder was flashing. The Institute members and apprentices he passed made it clear they would not talk or interrupt anything he was doing.
Ben hurried up the main staircase and went straight to the library. He found an empty table, sat down, and opened the file. He started reading, slowly and methodically, about the sorry and often illegal story of Grignak Bronny. There was a wealth of information on Grignak's past employment, his family, and even the various crimes he had committed. When he was done, he put the file down. Now what? There were plenty of other potential avenues he could explore, but Ben wasn't sure how much they would help. He checked his watch. It was almost 10am. No, there simply wasn't enough time to sit here and do research all day. However, there was one thing he did need to find out about.
Ben hit the library shelves, searching for anything he could find on street goblins, which turned out to be frustratingly difficult. He eventually found a book titled 101 Goblins and Where to Find Them in the children's section. Inside, Ben found a helpful description of the street goblin.
“Hundreds of years of city dwelling has turned these goblins into street-smart, survival experts. They are smaller than your typical goblin and often scrawny in appearance, with a hooked nose and intelligent, scheming eyes. They are ferocious fighters, and particularly resistant to Earth magic and most mind spells. Many street goblins now live within the UK, having migrated from the Unseen Kingdoms to London, Birmingham and Leeds. Those that manage to avoid petty crime normally work in the food industry. Due to their physical prowess, some have managed to find employment in the sporting world, most notably, Bolgop Grimp, who plays League 1 football for Crawley Town.”
Ben spent a further twenty minutes gleaning what information he could from other books, but he made slow progress, and the time factor was starting to weigh heavily on him. After a fruitless search through Goblins: A Political History, Ben had had enough. It was now coming up to 11am. Ben felt a tiny quiver of panic, which he quelled instantly. There was still time, but he couldn't hang around here any longer.
Ben took a few pieces of the file on Grignak that he felt he might need and tucked them in his pocket. He then left the Institute at a jog.
The next step in his mission had become obvious as soon as he had read the task and seen the money. There was no way Ben could defeat a street goblin without some assistance. He needed spells.
Ben headed to Taecia Square, following a series of winding lanes, which eventually led to a large, well-trodden path filled with people with shopping on their minds. A mighty arch soon came into view, towering above the buildings. On the front it read “Queen Elizabeth’s Taecia”.
As soon as he passed underneath, the pavement opened up to a square surrounded on all sides by timber-framed shops. In the middle was a throng of people, many walking with shopping bags, others basking in the sun while sipping on cool drinks. The relaxed sound of chatter was a stark contrast to the pressure Ben felt under.
Ben headed to the “W” store, which, as usual, had a crowd of people waiting to get in. Ben briefly admired the elegant shop signage – a wizard’s hat, cast in silver with the letter “W” imprinted on it – remembering the first time he’d set eyes upon the store. He felt the cash in his pocket. Ben wouldn't be able to buy many spells, as the place was so expensive, but it would be quick, easy and the choice was incredible.
Ben thought back to the exam, and quickly realised buying spells from the “W” store would be a big mistake. This was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate his ability in the Department of Trade. Ben immediately dismissed the “W” store from his mind. He knew exactly where he needed to go.
There were many alleyways leading off Taecia Square, and Ben took one of the more popular ones, which had a steady stream of people going in both directions. He set a quick pace and it wasn't long before he came upon exactly what he was looking for. The road opened up and stalls started appearing either side.
Up ahead, a banner floated above the road, which read “Chief Biglot's Magic Market: Deals Guaranteed!”
Ben smiled. When they said “deals guaranteed”, they generally meant for the seller, who would do all in his considerable power to extract as much money from the hapless buyer as possible. Chief Biglot was a prominent dwarf lord, and this was his market. Dwarves were the best hagglers, bargain hunters and salesmen in the Unseen Kingdoms, and Chief Biglot hired a hundred of the best to sell his wares. Striking a deal with one of his salesmen was like going into battle. There were deals to be had, but you had to be good – very good.
Ben had never been here himself but had read a lot about it when studying in Trade. He knew a few friends who had come here and somehow spent all their money with nothing to show for it. But if Ben could get a few good spells and avoid getting completely ripped off, he was sure he would score well with the Department of Trade. On the other hand, if he ended up spending more on a spell than at the “W” store, things could go sour very quickly.
Ben walked slowly, watching the masters in action. The sound of dwarves advertising their wares in deep, throaty voices, coupled with the frequent, often argumentative haggling, filled the air like a wall of noise.
“Staffs of Levitation, 50% off until 3pm today! Only five left!”
“Heat-proof spell pouches, three for the price of two.”
“Largest variety of air spells here!”
Ben pulled out a list of spells he figured he'd need, arranged in order of importance. Could he get everything for just two hundred pounds? Ben glanced at his watch. It was 11:30am. He would give himself an hour, no more, to get everything.
Ben rubbed his hands together and, like a fighter going into battle, joined the fray.
Last year, Ben ran a national half-marathon in the heat of summer and finished in the top ten for his age group. That, it turns out, was a walk in the park compared to the hour he spent buying spells. If it wasn't for his training in the Department of Trade, he would have lost all his money in the first ten minutes. But he had studied dwarf salesmen extensively and knew many of their tricks and how to deal with them. Never show any sign of fear or fragility; don't be afraid to walk away; never accept their first three offers; ask to see proof of any claims they make; never tell them how much you have to spend. There were many other rules, but those were the ones that saved Ben this morning. After an hour of intense bargaining and sweating, he emerged with almost everything he had on his list, with twenty pounds still in hand.
Ben stumbled back to Taecia Square with his purchases and allowed himself a fifteen-minute break at a café while he downed some lunch and got his breath back. He tucked into a chicken baguette, surveying the crowded square. Somewhere here was an Institute examiner, watching and assessing his every move, most likely invisible. Ben considered his work so far. It was just past midday and he had demonstrated his ability in the Trade and Scholar departments. That still left Spellsword, Warden and Diplomacy.
Once more feeling the time constraint, Ben finished up his lunch and headed on his way. His next destination was the Dragonway. Ben stood impatiently on the platform, and was glad when his dragon turned up after just five minutes. The journey took a little longer than normal, for instead of stopping at Croydon, he was heading into London. Ben spent the time studying the sheets of paper he had taken from Grignak's file, gleaning every last bit of information he could.
It felt strange not getting off when the dragon stopped at Croydon and, when they continued into the tunnel, Ben felt a little buzz of excitement, going into the unknown. After another fifteen minutes, the dragon arrived in London. Despite having been to the Croydon station every day for the past several weeks, the London station took his breath away. There were five platforms, instead of just one. The ceiling was impossibly high and had a faint curve, creating a dome-like effect. Thousands of twinkling lights shone down on a station that was both more modern and yet vastly older and grander than the Croydon one he was used to. Amid the smoke and roars from the dragons was the chatter of voices, hurried footsteps and occasional whistle from the conductors. The majority of people were human, but there was a fair proportion of dwarves, elves and smaller creatures. Ben felt like a tourist all over again as he stepped off the carriage and meandered his way along the platform. He saw two signs: one directing him to the Institute's London headquarters; the other to London Victoria Underground Station. As tempted as Ben was to visit the Institute's headquarters in London, Ben, like many others, followed the sign to the Underground.
The security was both larger and more streamlined than Croydon's slightly archaic system. As Ben was an Institute apprentice, they let him keep his spell pouches, though he was instructed to “turn off” the flashing diamond above his shoulder – something he had completely forgotten about. Soon he was walking among a group of people down a torch-lit passageway, which led all the way to the lift. Unlike the one in Croydon, this lift contained no seats. Ben quickly grabbed onto a handle bar, but he needn't have held on so tightly, as the lift accelerated far more smoothly than the Croydon one. They travelled from what seemed like the Earth's core until the lift finally slowed and came to a gentle stop. With a ding, the doors opened, and everyone started filing out.
Ben couldn't help staring. They were bang in the middle of the London Victoria Underground station, right near the escalators that went up to the main train station. Regular people passed the lift by without giving it a second glance. Ben remembered passing this exact lift several times himself, but he could never be bothered to take it, as it always seemed quicker and easier to take the escalator. With a smile and a shake of the head, Ben joined the London throng and headed up to the main train station.
Ben weaved through the crowd until he arrived at the huge train timetable that hung from the ceiling, just in front of the platforms. There it was: platform nineteen – Lampton Green, leaving in three minutes. He made the train by the skin of his teeth and searched for the emptiest carriage he could find. Being early afternoon, most of the commuters had already gone to work, so there were plenty of empty seats. After the train was safely on its way, Ben took a surreptitious look around, and took out the necklace. It was an elegant thing, though perhaps suited more to a girl's taste, and not something he would ordinarily wear, but fashion was the last thing on his mind right now. He needed the necklace to track down Grignak. He put the necklace on and tucked it underneath his top so it wouldn't show.
He felt a presence immediately, albeit a minuscule one, right at the edge of his mind. Ben closed his eyes and focused. Relaxing was key, he remembered from his Warden training. Let the perceptions come. A blurred image flashed before him of a young boy wearing rough clothes, walking past an old library. The picture made Ben jerk and he immediately lost it. Taking a calming breath, he relaxed again, but it still took several minutes before the image returned. Ben studied the boy: greasy hair; hooked nose; crooked teeth; ragged jeans. He was scrawny but walked with a confidence that suggested a wiry strength beneath his rags.
Sight was the easiest perception to obtain through the necklace, but what he really needed was distance and orientation. How far away was the target? Where exactly in Lampton Green was he? Ben took another calming breath, swallowing his impatience.
But the journey was not a long one and Ben was still trying to get the goblin's exact destination by the time he reached Lampton Green station. Ben disembarked and walked slowly down the platform, concentrating so hard on the necklace he nearly ran into an elderly couple, and then received a dirty look from a mum as he almost knocked her child over.
This was no good. Clearly walking and concentrating on the necklace was a step too far. He hated to waste time, but there was nothing for it – he needed to sit down. Ben found a small coffee shop within the station. He bought a water, picked up a free newspaper and sat down. While pretending to read the paper, he re-doubled his efforts to pinpoint the location of Grignak. He got a couple of peculiar looks, and realised his
face had become rigid and his tongue was sticking out, but he didn't care. He was getting closer, he could feel it. The pictures were now coming through crystal clear. He saw the boy walking past a bank, heading up a hill. Ben re-doubled his efforts and felt a small bead of sweat trickle down his forehead.
It came to him in a flash of knowingness. Grignak was one and a half miles northeast. Ben jumped up so quickly the old lady sitting next to him almost spilt her coffee. With a quick apology, he left the train station and headed up a small road that led into the heart of the village. Ben glanced at his watch. It had just passed two o'clock. He quickened his pace, winding his way past the occasional shopper and the more frequent parent pushing their buggy, hogging the pavement. He stopped briefly as the road converged with the main village road that lay on a hill. Ben focused again on the necklace; this time the directions came easily. The goblin was now less than a mile away.
Ben set off up the hill. Every minute he re-focused on the necklace and found that he was slowly gaining on his target. The village centre was little more than a half-mile strip and it soon gave way to a surprisingly large park, complete with woods and a small duck-filled lake. There were paths, winding their way through the park, populated by the occasional walker, jogger, or mum pushing their buggy.
Ben stopped to get his breath back and re-check his proximity to his target. The necklace pulsed suddenly, giving off a warmth that tingled his neck. The pulsing continued, slowly, rhythmically.
He was close. Really close.
Ben squinted, recalling the goblin's disguise.
There! A small ice-cream parlour stood less than a hundred yards away, busy serving mums and kids. Off to the side was a scrawny boy, devouring a large Häagen-Dazs tub of ice-cream none too elegantly. Ben was surprised at how young he looked, no more than fourteen or fifteen.
Now that he was this close, Ben suddenly felt himself hesitate. He needed a plan. Normally he had plans coming out of his ears, but this was different. One false move and he could blow the whole exam. Ben needed to come up with something while Grignak the boy/goblin was pre-occupied eating his ice-cream. At the rate he was eating, he would be done soon, and when he was finished, he would undoubtedly move on, making things more difficult.
