“Or, like, a leg,” Ben continued. “Just a horrible bit of leg all stitched together and rotting and…”
“Information!” Tavish said. “I’ve been able to piece some bits of information together.”
“Oh,” said Ben. He cleared his throat. “Carry on.”
“From what I can gather, something attacked the wagon carrying you and your parents, Benjamin. Something big. Something strong. I believe your parents were … taken. But you were left behind. You, and this.”
He lifted the cloth away, revealing the ornately decorated handle of a sword. A carving of a frightening clawed creature adorned the hilt. The sword’s blade was embedded deep into the rock itself, with only a few centimetres visible between the handle and the stone.
“I’ve had the carving analysed,” Tavish said. “It appears to be the emblem of the Monster Hunter Guild.”
“There’s no such guild,” said Paradise.
Tavish gave a slow nod. “Not now. Not in a long time.”
Ben felt like the whole basement was spinning and might come caving in on him at any moment. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“They were monster hunters?” he gasped. “My parents were monster hunters?”
“It appears so,” Tavish said. “I don’t know how the sword got into the stone, but no one has been able to get it out since.” He waved his robotic arm. “Even with this thing, it won’t budge. Magic, you see?”
He fished in his pocket and pulled out a small rectangular box. He gave it a shake and pointed one of the box’s narrow ends towards the sword handle. After a moment, the end of the box folded open. A little wooden bird popped out on a spring, went, “Bloop,” then popped back in again.
Ben blinked. “What was that?”
“I call it the Automated Magic Detecting Device,” Tavish said. “A single bloop means it has detected magic. Two bloops means it has detected vast quantities of magic.”
“What if it gave three bloops?” asked Paradise. “What would that mean?”
Tavish thought for a moment. “That would mean that raw magical energy was about to tear the very fabric of the universe apart,” he said. “Or that the batteries needed changing.”
Paradise frowned. “What are batteries?”
Tavish waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, just a little something I invented. I doubt they’ll catch on.”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”
“I … I don’t really know,” Tavish admitted. “The Soothsayer High Council told me a day would come when you would be summoned. When you would be called to your destiny.” His eyes went to Paradise. “By a damsel in distress. I just … I wanted to keep you safe until that day came.”
“Who are you calling a damsel in distress?” asked Paradise.
“You’ve spoken to the Soothsayer High Council?” Ben said. He could hardly believe it. The Soothsayer High Council was a group of wise men and women who could tell the future. They travelled around the country, revealing the destinies of those brave enough to ask. Ben had seen them a few times, but he had never worked up the courage to approach them because they were all a bit on the strange side, and they smelled quite strongly of cabbage.
Ben looked at the handle of the sword poking up out of the stone. “So this is mine?”
“I think so, yes,” said Tavish. “The council believes it can be freed only by the right person at the right time. By you, Benjamin. Now.”
A hush fell across the basement as Ben took a step closer to the boulder. He looked back, first at Paradise, then at Tavish. “Here goes,” he said.
Taking a deep breath, Ben reached out and wrapped his fingers around the sword’s handle. A tingle of magical energy tickled up his arm, making the hairs stand to attention on the back of his neck. Images of battles and stunts and high-speed wagon chases buzzed like lightning through his brain as he heaved on the sword and…
Nothing.
“Well go on, then,” said Paradise. “We haven’t got all day.”
Ben pulled again. “It won’t budge.”
“Try putting your foot on that bit,” urged Tavish, pointing to a flat part of the boulder.
Ben did as he was told, then pulled until his face turned a worrying shade of purple.
“I think his head’s going to explode,” Paradise said.
With a gasp, Ben let go of the sword. Slowly, his face returned to its normal colour. “Maybe it’s not my sword,” he said.
“Maybe,” said Tavish, stroking his chin. “Or maybe it’s not your time.”
“Can you make me one then?” Ben asked.
“If the sword doesn’t think you’re ready to wield it, then who am I to argue?” Tavish said. “You can use your wooden one for now. Like you said, you’ll only be watching the other warriors, anyway, so you shouldn’t be in any danger.”
“But—”
“I haven’t raised you this long just to have you lop one of your arms off like I did,” Tavish said. “Anyway, I have something else to show you. The third and final thing I found in the wreckage of that wagon.”
The rusted hinges squeaked as he opened the lid of the chest. A metal gauntlet lay nestled within. “Pick it up,” Tavish urged.
Ben reached in and took the gauntlet. Its surface shone like polished silver. The glove was big and bulky, but as he slipped his right hand inside, it seemed to shrink to fit him perfectly. He balled his fingers into a fist, and suddenly felt like he could punch through solid rock.
“According to the Automated Magic Detecting Device, that gauntlet’s a double blooper,” Tavish said, his voice a hushed whisper. “I have no idea what it does, but in all my days I’ve never come across an item so packed with pure magical power.”
“Where’s the other one?” asked Paradise. “Gloves usually come in pairs.”
Tavish shook his head. “There was only this one,” he said, then he stared past the children, as if looking back through the mists of time itself. “My studies of this gauntlet began long, long ago, when you were just—”
“That’s a lovely story,” interrupted Paradise. “Really. Fascinating. But there’s a great big monster ripping up my village, remember?”
“Oh yes, good point,” said Tavish. He turned to the boy and tried his best to smile, but tears formed at the corners of his eyes. “Then it’s time, Ben,” he said, spoiling the moment a bit by loudly blowing his nose on his sleeve. “It’s time to face your destiny.”
Ben’s boots squelched through the mud as he and Paradise hurried along the wide, crowded streets of the village of Lump. The market was already in full swing, and the smell of smoked kippers, fresh bread and barbecued lump-hog swirled in a delicious mist around them.
As they weaved their way through the throngs of shoppers, voices raised up all around them.
“Morning, Ben!”
“Good to see you, lad!”
“Eat something, boy, you’re thin as a rake!”
Ben smiled and waved back at everyone with his metal gauntlet. Then he led Paradise past the final few stalls and out on to the road that ran to the north of the village. The road was long and straight, and stretched out almost as far as the eye could see.
“So what’s your village called?” Ben asked, preparing himself for the long hike ahead.
“Loosh,” said Paradise.
“What? But that’s only twenty minutes away. You said you walked for three days to get to my house!”
“I did,” Paradise admitted. “I got kind of lost.”
“You got lost between Loosh and Lump?”
“No, I didn’t get lost. I never get lost. I got kind of lost.”
“For three days?”
“Yes!” she said, her face crinkling into an angry scowl. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Ben shook his head. “Nope.”
They trudged on in silence for a while. The sun was climbing in the sky, and the trees on either side of the tr
ack were alive with the twitter of birds.
“So … what are you then?” Ben asked.
Paradise frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you an elf or something?”
“Why would I be an elf?”
“Just, you know, being so small.”
“I’m not that small!”
“You’re pretty tiny,” said Ben.
“I’m nearly average height,” Paradise replied.
“For an elf, maybe.”
“Elves aren’t short, they’re tall,” Paradise said. “Everyone knows that.”
“What? I mean, yeah.” Ben forced a laugh. “Of course. Just kidding.”
They walked on a bit more.
“So, what, you’re just a human being then?”
“Yes!”
“You’re an ordinary human being?”
“Yes, of course I am!”
“Not a goblin or a pixie or anything?”
“No!”
Silence fell again. They’d only gone a few more steps when Ben broke it.
“You didn’t really recruit loads of other warriors, did you?” he asked. “You were just making that up so Tavish would let me go with you, right?”
Paradise shook her head. “No, I did. I rounded up the roughest and toughest fighters I could find from all over the country.”
“Oh,” said Ben, his shoulders sagging. “So I will just be watching after all.”
“No, you’ll definitely get to fight,” Paradise assured him.
“Won’t the other warriors mind?”
“I shouldn’t think so,” said Paradise. “They’ve all been horribly killed.”
Ben’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Of course not,” Paradise said, smirking. “I went looking for a great warrior and your house was where I eventually ended up. I asked around whose house it was, and found out about Tavish. I guessed he had to be the warrior I was looking for.”
“Him? Nah, don’t know where you heard that from,” said Ben. “If he cuts his finger he has to go for a lie down. I’ve fought loads of monsters, though.”
“What kinds?”
“Oh, you know,” Ben said, after the tiniest of pauses. “Big ones. Bigger ones. Er … other things.”
Paradise stopped sharply and sniffed the air.
“Do you smell that?” she said.
“Sorry, I think I stepped in something back there,” Ben said.
“Not that,” Paradise said. “It’s sort of a … burning smell, like…” Her eyes went wide. She barged past Ben and broke into a run. “The village!” she yelped. “It’s coming from my village!”
They sprinted along the track, clambering over fences and bounding across streams. Paradise was faster, but Ben was better at jumping and climbing, so they were neck and neck as they made the final mad dash to Loosh.
By the time they reached the village, there was almost nothing left. Stone shacks lay in ruins. The burnt wreckage of wooden huts smouldered and smoked. All that remained was the village well, a trampled vegetable patch, and an elderly donkey in a straw hat.
“Trolls’ teeth! I’ve never seen anything like it,” Ben said.
“I-I know,” Paradise stammered.
“I mean … a donkey,” said Ben, “wearing a hat!”
“Not that! My whole village has been destroyed.”
Ben’s eyes widened, as if he were only now spotting the damage for the first time. “Oh. Right. Yeah, so it has.”
Paradise cast her gaze across the wreckage. “They’re gone,” she said. “Everyone’s gone. I’ll never see them again.”
“Helloooo?” called a voice. Paradise didn’t seem to notice.
“Mr Thringle from the baker’s. Gone,” Paradise said. “Bibbly Codd, the goat tamer. Gone.”
The voice came again. “Is there someone up there?”
“Old Granny Belcher. Voice like an angel, face like the back of a dog. I won’t see the likes of her again,” Paradise continued.
“We’re down the well!”
“Do you mind?” Paradise snapped. “Some of us are trying to be upset here, and it’s not easy with… Wait! The well!”
They dashed to the well and peered into the gloom. A dozen villagers were crammed down there, clinging to the rough stone walls or treading water below. An old woman with a face like the back of a dog let out a cheer when Paradise’s face appeared at the top of the hole.
“Paradise! We’re saved,” she sang.
“What happened?” Paradise asked. “Was it the monster?”
“It was!” sobbed the woman. “It was horrible.”
“It had the head of a shark!” one man cried.
“And the body of a bear!” added another.
“And the tail of a bunny!” said a third. There was a pause. “But a dead scary one.”
“What’s a shark?” asked Ben.
“Yaaar, lad,” came a voice from the gloom. “A shark be a big fish.”
“That’s Captain Swordbeard,” explained Paradise quietly. “He used to be a pirate, but now he runs the fishmonger’s.”
“A big fish doesn’t sound too bad,” Ben said.
“A shark be the biggest, nastiest fish you ever set eyes on. With teeth like saw blades, and eyes carved from pure evil itself,” said Captain Swordbeard.
“Actually, that does sound pretty bad,” Ben admitted.
“We’ll get you out,” Paradise said. Ben turned the wooden handle that lowered the bucket down into the well. When it was close to the bottom there was a loud THUNK!
“Ooyah!”
“Sorry,” said Ben, and he wound the handle back half a turn. There was a scrabbling and splashing and the rope went tight.
“Ready!”
Ben cranked the handle backwards. After a minute or more of winding in the rope, a man’s head rose slowly into view.
The man was short and chubby, with a red face and only a few strands of hair on top. His knuckles were white from gripping the rope, and his whole body trembled as Paradise helped haul him over the edge of the well.
“Mayor!” Paradise cheered. “Are you OK?”
The man did his best to smile. “Oh, don’t worry about me, dear,” he said. “I’m fine. Just dandy. It takes more than a silly monster to scare the Mayor of Loosh!”
A furious roar split the morning air, and a hulking shape exploded from the woods beside the village.
Squealing in panic, the mayor tried to jump back into the well, but the beast was a frenzied blur of speed. It closed the gap in a flash and slammed into him, all gnashing teeth and slashing claws. The mayor shrieked in terror as the monster scooped him up in one bear-like arm.
Ben drew his wooden sword, but a kick from the mayor’s flailing feet caught him on the chin and sent him spinning to the ground, the sword flying out of his grasp.
“I was lying, I am scared! I’m proper terrified!” the mayor squealed. “Don’t eat me, I’ll taste rubbish!”
Ben tried to stand, but his head was fuzzy from the kick and the ground felt like quicksand pulling him down. Through blurred vision he saw Paradise charge at the rampaging monster, her tiny fists raised.
With a desperate kick of his legs Ben knocked her to the ground just as the creature’s claws slashed through the air above their heads.
“I chew my own toenails,” squealed the mayor. “And I haven’t had a bath in months. I’m probably poisonous!”
The beast let out another ear-splitting roar. Ben scanned the ground for his sword.
There! Still groggy, he half crawled, half rolled to the wooden weapon, snatched it up and leaped to his feet.
“Hey ugly, if you want a fight you…”
Ben’s voice trailed off. He looked around. Aside from him, Paradise and the donkey wearing the hat, there wasn’t another living creature in sight.
The monster – and the mayor – were gone.
“Where is it? Where did they go?” Paradise demanded.
“I don’t
know,” Ben admitted. He cast his gaze across the woods, searching for any sign of the monster. “It was right here.”
“You let it get away!” Paradise yelped.
A shaky voice rose up from the well.
“Everything all right up there? We heard shouting.”
“And screaming.”
“And something about toenails.”
Paradise and Ben leaned over the edge of the well again. “It was the monster,” Paradise said. “It took the mayor. We’re going after him.”
Ben looked up. “How?” he said. “We don’t know which way they went.”
Paradise’s eyes met his. “I’ll find them.”
“Even if you can, that thing looked pretty nasty. It’s too dangerous. Maybe—”
“Now listen to me, Benjamin,” Paradise said. “I set off three days ago to find someone who could help, and I found you. I don’t know why, but I found you. You’ve fought monsters before, you said.”
Ben nodded. “Yep,” he said, a little too quickly. “I definitely have.”
“Then you’re the only one who can help me,” Paradise continued. “And you wanted to come, remember? So don’t you dare go chickening out on me now.”
“No, it’s just—”
“He’s my dad,” Paradise said, stopping Ben in his tracks.
Ben stared. “Is he?”
“Well, no,” Paradise admitted. “Not really. I mean … sort of. I mean… There’s no time to explain. We have to go after him.”
Ben nodded slowly, then he pointed down into the well. “What about them? Shouldn’t we get them out?”
“Out? No chance! We’re staying down here where it’s safe.”
“OK, well in case you change your mind…” Ben spun the handle that lowered the bucket down into the well.
THUNK!
“Ooyah!”
Ben winced. “Sorry again.”
“Let’s go,” urged Paradise, and she set off running towards the wall of trees. Ben hurried to keep up with her.
“How do you know the way?” he asked. “They could be anywhere.”
“I told you, I can find anything,” she replied, not slowing. “There’s this sort of compass in my head.”
The Shark-Headed Bear-Thing Page 2