by Victor Kloss
Charlie put a hand over his eyes. “I had hoped never to hear those words uttered from your mouth again.”
“You don't mean that,” Ben said. He rapped the table, and gave them all a smile; he had been smiling a lot since they had discovered the scabbard. “So, who wants the honour of coming with me to pick up the scabbard?”
“I will,” Natalie said immediately. Charlie somewhat reluctantly raised his hand.
“I can, if you need me,” Joshua said. Ben was surprised and pleased to hear the sincerity in his voice. “However, I'm supposed to be helping the Wardens with border patrol, so I'd have to make some excuse to get out of that.”
“No, don't do that,” Ben said. “The last thing we want is to draw attention to ourselves. Charlie and Natalie will be fine.”
“So, when do we go?” Charlie asked. “It should be done at night, when at least we don't have to deal with the crowds.”
“I need a day to put my plan into action,” Ben said. “So let's plan for tomorrow night. In the meantime, let's get everything we need for the break-in. We're going to need some spells, for starters.”
They spent the next hour devouring cups of tea and planning exactly what they would need and how to get in and out. Eventually, they headed back to the Institute and returned to their respective departments. Ben, however, had other plans. He took the grand staircase all the way up to the roof. The cold air hit him as he emerged amongst the paddocks. It was windy, and the smell was unusually strong, owing to the fact that there were far more steeds about than usual. There were dozens of apprentices managing the animals, cleaning them, feeding them, and occasionally preparing them for flight.
Ben walked along the path that ran next to the arched roof, his eyes searching for one particular apprentice. It didn't take him long to spot his ginger hair, and his manic laugh could be heard even over the animal noises.
Simon was busy attempting to feed a griffin that was clearly not hungry.
“Take the food, you silly animal!” Simon said, trying to get a spoonful of something into the griffin's mouth.
“Simon!” Ben shouted, raising a hand in greeting.
Simon turned, gave a wave, and immediately dumped the spoon on the floor with obvious relief. “Ben! Please tell me you're here to relieve me. These animals are driving me crazy. My talents are being wasted. I should be with you, in the Spellsword Department, honing my skills.”
Simon made a few sword-fighting motions to emphasise his point.
“Afraid not,” Ben said, giving Simon a consolatory slap on the shoulder. “However, I do need your help with something.” He lowered his voice a fraction. “I need to get in somewhere.”
Simon's demeanour changed immediately. He grinned, and rubbed his hands together. “You've come to the right guy. That's what I do best. Did I tell you that me and Anthony managed to break into Gimble's Sweet Store last week? That place makes even the dwarven banks’ security look pathetic.”
“Impressive,” Ben said. “My particular problem is getting through some magic-resistant doors,” Ben said.
This seemed to delight Simon further. “A tricky customer, eh? What are you trying to break into?”
“Can't tell you that,” Ben said smoothly. “Can you help?”
“Of course,” Simon said. His eyes narrowed. “For the right price.”
“I'm on a budget,” Ben said. “Two hundred and fifty quid.”
“Oh, I don't want money,” Simon said. “I've got enough of that with my thriving businesses. No, I want you to replace me here.”
“How long for?” Ben asked.
“Ten hours.”
“Seven.”
“Eight and a half,” Simon said stubbornly.
Ben glanced up at the griffins, and finally nodded. “Done. What have you got for me?”
“I have a few ideas,” Simon said. “I need to speak to one of my contacts. I know a gnome who specialises in getting round magical defences.”
They talked possibilities until Simon was caught slacking and ordered back to work. They agreed to meet again tomorrow morning to make the transaction.
Ben spent the rest of the day working in the Spellsword Department, but left as early as possible with Charlie and Natalie later that evening. They headed back to Elizabeth's museum to get a better look at the outside and also become more familiar with the layout inside. Ben spotted several members of the Old Guard, with their blue and gold uniform. Given the size of the museum, there weren't that many of them, but they were strategically placed at all the main exit points, and it was clear they knew the place inside out.
“Do you think they'll all be here when we come?” Natalie asked.
“They'll probably have a night shift,” Ben said. “But I don't think it will consist of that many. We may have to knock a few of them out.”
On the way home they talked about the best way to get in and out, until Ben felt pretty confident that they had some sort of plan. They just needed Simon to come good tomorrow and they might have a chance of pulling it off.
*
The following morning, Ben went straight up to the roof after muster, searching for Simon. Despite the fact that it was barely nine o'clock, the paddocks were already busy. Ben spotted half a dozen Wardens mounting pegasi and flying off on some mission.
“Would you stop doing that, please!”
Simon's voice was hard to miss, and Ben quickly followed it to the panther's paddock. Ben had always been fascinated by the black cats, though the Unseen variety was somewhat different to those that Ben had seen at the zoos at home. They were larger, and had the ability to disappear completely at night.
The panther Simon was tending to kept trying to lick Simon's face. The moment he spotted Ben, Simon leapt out of the paddock in double-quick time, heedless of the supervisors watching.
“I should have got the full ten hours from you,” Simon said, trying to wipe the saliva from his face.
“Did you find me something?” Ben asked.
Simon took out a small, octagonal-shaped piece of metal, no bigger than a tennis ball, and handed it to Ben.
“Space displacement,” Simon said. His voice dropped and he looked around to make sure they weren't being overheard, before continuing. “Experimental, cutting edge stuff the gnomes have been working on.”
“What does it do?”
“It's called a portaler. It's basically like a really short portal,” Simon said. “But it's unique as it can theoretically pass through anything, including your magical doors.”
“Perfect,” Ben said, smiling and pocketing the item.
“There is only one drawback,” Simon said, sounding unconcerned. “It has never been successfully tested on humans, only gnomes.”
“What?” Ben said a little too loudly.
“Calm down,” Simon said. “They said there was no reason it shouldn't work. Gnomes and humans are quite genetically similar, apparently.”
“Wonderful,” Ben said, running a hand through his hair. He gave Simon an angry look. “If this doesn't work, I'm not wasting a second cleaning your animals.”
“It'll be fine,” Simon said with one of his insolent grins. “Trust me.”
Ben, however, trusted Simon as far as he could throw him. The problem was, they couldn't try out the portaler on the museum's doors during the day, as it was too busy. They would just have to hope that it worked when they tried it that night.
“Typical Simon,” Charlie muttered, as they sat down for dinner that evening. “If it doesn't work, we're screwed.”
“Let's not think about that,” Natalie said. “Have we got everything we need?”
“I think so,” Charlie said. He pulled out a piece of paper on which was a rough floorplan. “I found this in the library – it's a full layout of the museum.”
“Good,” Ben said. “Did you get the spells, Natalie?”
“Yeah, it wasn't difficult,” Natalie said. “I get almost fr
ee rein in the spell repository these days, as long as I don't take anything above a level-three spell.”
The plan was to break in to the museum after midnight, so they had several hours to kill that evening. None of them felt like working, but the Institute roped them into various duties until eleven o'clock, when they were finally let go.
It was a typically cold winter's night when the three of them stepped out of the Institute gates. Ben zipped up his jacket and tightened his scarf. Charlie adjusted his large, furry earmuffs and huffed into the air, producing condensation. Ben was pleased to see the sky was overcast, hiding the moon.
There were still plenty of people around, and several of the pubs were doing a roaring trade, especially with the dwarves. Thankfully, as they wandered aimlessly around Taecia for the next hour or so, most of the crowds slowly disappeared, until they found they were alone even in the busier thoroughfares.
It was a little past midnight when Ben, Charlie and Natalie finally headed for the museum.
“What do we do if there are guards outside?” Charlie asked.
“We knock them out,” Ben said. “And we do it quickly, so they can't call for back-up.”
“Oh, good,” Charlie said, sounding decidedly unhappy about it.
The road to the museum was a wide one, to cater for the high amount of traffic in what was one of Taecia's most popular tourist destinations. Unfortunately, there was a lot of open space around the museum, making it difficult to hide at a moment's notice. Ben eased his spellshooter out of his holster, aware that his hands suddenly felt sweaty despite the cold. The front of the museum would come into view any moment, and they would have only seconds to act if the Old Guard were stationed outside. The minute he sighted the museum entrance, Ben scanned the area, spellshooter ready. He gave a sigh of relief. The place was empty. The ground lights surrounding the museum enabled Ben to sweep the area without squinting. Nevertheless, he kept his spellshooter in his hand as the three of them climbed the gentle steps up to the front door. When he was certain they were alone, he put his spellshooter away, and took out the portaler. It was a reassuringly heavy piece, crafted of a dark metal.
“Now what?” Natalie said. The three of them were staring at the piece in Ben's hands.
“Let's see if this bad boy works,” Ben said.
Ben placed the portaler on the door, and pressed a button in the middle of the device. There was a loud click that made them jump, and the object latched onto the door, like a magnet.
“I'm going to press the button again; then we stand back.”
“Why? What's going to happen?” Charlie said. “I need some sort of warning.”
“I honestly don't know,” Ben said with a shrug. “Let's see.”
Ignoring Charlie's protests, Ben pressed the button in further, and then stepped back.
The door that materialised looked so real it could have come from Ikea. It was plain white, with a handle, and stood just in front of the museum's doors, floating in mid-air, inches above the ground.
Ben grabbed the handle and carefully pulled the door open, half-expecting the whole thing to fall down. Instead, the door swung open on invisible hinges.
“Oh wow,” Natalie gasped.
The open door revealed the museum inside, as if the museum's doors had been cut away.
“Can we just walk through?” Charlie asked tentatively.
“I think so,” Ben said.
The portaler was still stuck on the door, and Ben could just about reach it.
“The portal will only last seconds after I remove the portaler from the door,” Ben said. “After you two have gone in, I'm going to remove it, and follow you in. Remember, if you see any Old Guard, stun them. You will have the advantage of surprise.”
Natalie gave a determined nod; Charlie less so. Ben watched as they prepared themselves, and then stepped through the door. The moment they passed through, Ben pressed the central button on the portaler. There was a click, the portaler detached itself, and the white door immediately started to fade. Ben darted round, and leapt through.
— Chapter Twenty-Seven —
A Brief Reunion
Ben's skin tingled as he passed through and there was a rush of cold, before emerging just inside the museum doors.
Natalie and Charlie stood staring at an Old Guard lying unconscious on the floor.
“He was there as soon as we entered,” Charlie said, looking almost as stunned as the unconscious guard. “I think I might have overdone it by firing three stunning spells.”
“You reacted quicker than I did,” Natalie said.
Ben nudged the man, and was relieved to discover that he was still breathing. He looked around, and spotted the cloakroom.
“We can't have him lying here like this. Let's move him out the way.”
They dragged the guard into the small cloakroom and, after some effort, managed to shut the door.
Ben drew his spellshooter, and quickly scanned the area again, half-expecting more guards to materialise. After a minute of standing rigidly, waiting, it became apparent they were alone, at least for now.
“I think we're in the clear,” Ben said, though he didn't holster his spellshooter.
Charlie pulled out the floorplan. “We need to take the stairs.”
They walked quickly, but silently through the grand museum. Charlie concentrated on leading them in the right direction, while Natalie and Ben were on the alert, searching for any sign of movement. To his surprise, and relief, they met no more guards as they took the stairs to the second floor.
“Not that I'm complaining, but the place seems awfully quiet,” Natalie said, as they passed through yet another magnificent room, detailing Elizabeth's sea adventures.
Ben had been thinking the same thing, but there was no point worrying about it. It was one o'clock in the morning, after all, and the front doors of the museum were normally enough to put most people off.
“There it is,” Charlie said.
He was pointing at the small room they had spent so much time in just yesterday. Queen Elizabeth's Personal Possessions. Unlike last time, where there had been a huge queue to get in, it was now empty, with not even a guard in sight.
Ben, Charlie and Natalie entered the small room, and Natalie immediately gasped, as she feasted her eyes on the same exhibition Ben and Charlie had recently witnessed. Ben's eyes went straight to the scabbard, still innocently leaning on the throne chair. Ben found himself admiring the item all over again, from its simple, understated design to the quality of craftsmanship of the silver.
“It's beautiful,” Natalie said. “I can see the similarities to the other pieces.”
“Yeah, it's a perfect match,” Ben said.
Charlie's attention kept flicking to the room's only exit, rather than the scabbard. “So, what now? Pick up the piece and go? I'm sure you'll set off some sort of magical alarm.”
“Maybe,” Ben said. “Maybe not.”
But he didn't move. The scabbard seemed so precious, he suddenly felt strangely reluctant to sully it with his dirty hands.
“Am I the only one worrying about the guards?” Charlie said, oblivious to Ben's fascination with the scabbard. “We've only met one. Where are all the others? I can't believe they'll just let us take something and walk out.”
“Maybe there was only a handful here to start with,” Natalie said. “After all, most people wouldn't be able to get through those magical doors.”
“Really? We didn't have much difficulty.”
“We had the portaler from Simon,” Natalie said. “He said it was the latest thing on the market.”
“Which, coming from Simon, doesn't mean anything,” Charlie said. “I'm just saying, we're about to steal one of Elizabeth's personal possessions, and it seems a bit too easy.”
Ben shook himself out of the trance the scabbard seemed to have on him. “You're right. It does seem all a bit too easy. But does that mean we shouldn't take t
he scabbard?”
“No, I'm just scared of what's going to happen when you do.”
Ben grinned suddenly. “We'll find out soon enough, won't we? Maybe nothing happens or maybe we get ambushed by fifty Old Guards. Most likely something in between. The trick is to be ready.”
“I'm ready,” Natalie said, drawing her spellshooter. Charlie followed suit with a little less conviction.
Ben rubbed his hands together, and then carefully stepped over the blue rope barrier. He froze, waiting for some sort of magical alarm. Nothing happened. He shuffled forwards in pigeon steps, easing his way just to the left of the throne chair, until he was standing directly over the scabbard. He could feel his whole body shaking as he stared down at the magnificent sheath. The previous pieces of armour they found flashed across his mind – the helm, the boots and the breastplate. Each had provided significant obstacles right up until they were claimed. Was there some last trick or spell, just waiting to go off when he picked up the scabbard? Or was it really as easy as picking it up? After all, this wasn't the sword itself, only its sheath.
There was only one way to find out.
Ben bent down and picked up the scabbard.
The icy shock was so powerful it forced his mind from his body. He sailed upwards, towards the ceiling, through it, and outside into the night air. It was the most bizarre feeling – he could still sense his body, but he was no longer inside it, nor was he in control of where he was going. The world below whizzed by. He felt terrified, but also strangely exhilarated by the experience of being free. Faster and higher he went, until he became aware of a small red spot in the distance. It looked like a ring of fire, floating in space, with flames licking around its edges. It couldn't have been more than six feet in diameter – not that it mattered, as he didn't have a physical form. He was being pulled towards the ring, he realised. For the first time, Ben felt a rush of fear, for he could feel evil emanating from the ring. He didn't want to go in there, but he couldn't gain any sort of control over his direction. He cried out, or tried to, as he sailed right through the fiery circle.
Blackness hit him and, for a moment, he had no point of reference in space or time. He felt sick and dizzy. He touched his stomach to stop it from heaving.
