“Relax, it’s probably nowhere near us,” Ben said.
Paradise jabbed a thumb back over her shoulder. “Twenty-two metres that way,” she said, without looking. “Fourth branch from the bottom.”
Ben stood up. Keeping low, he tip-toed off into the darkness. Several seconds passed before he returned. “She’s right,” he said, sounding impressed.
“Told you it wasn’t luck.”
“Then why can’t you find the mayor?” Ben asked.
Paradise’s head snapped up. “How should I know? I tried.”
Ben held up his hands. “I know, I know, I wasn’t saying anything. It’s just … there must be a reason why you can’t.”
Wesley sat forwards suddenly. “Paradise, why did you stop here?”
“Ben was having a wee,” she replied.
“No, no. He only stopped because you did.” He pointed to the tree with his name in it. “And I only carved that because I was sure we’d passed that very same tree several times before and I wanted to keep track. So why did you keep leading us here?”
“I thought I felt something. Like we were close, but then we weren’t.”
“And yet you brought us back to this exact spot again and again,” Wesley said.
Paradise and Ben looked at one another. “So?” they both asked. “There’s nothing here.”
Wesley rummaged up his sleeve until he found the same leather-bound book he’d produced earlier. He flipped hurriedly through the pages until he found the picture of the Shark-Headed Bear-Thing. “Look what it’s doing,” he said.
The others leaned in close, struggling to see the picture clearly in the gloom. “Biting a rock,” Ben said.
“Exactly!” chirped Wesley. “And look at the background. What does that look like?”
Ben and Paradise went back to peering at the book.
“A tunnel?” Paradise guessed.
“Precisely! And where might one find a tunnel?”
Ben leaped to his feet. He stared down at the grass, his whole body suddenly twitching with excitement. “Underground!” he said, then he threw himself into the air as high as he could, and brought both feet down with a slam.
There was a groan from all around the clearing, followed by a sound like a giant bubble going pop. In a cloud of dust and soil and rotten bark, the entire clearing collapsed beneath them and they tumbled down into a wide hole in the ground.
When the dust settled and the noise faded, all was still. Then, from out of the darkness, Paradise’s voice rose up.
“Will you please stop jumping up and down on stuff!”
They had crashed down into a narrow cave. At least, it had probably been narrow to begin with, but now that a large part of the ceiling and walls had fallen in, it was quite a bit wider.
Ben heaved himself out from beneath a pile of dirt, just as Paradise untangled herself from a knot of roots and vines. They looked around for Wesley, and eventually spotted a pair of feet poking up from a mound of muck.
Taking a leg each, they pulled until he popped free. Wesley spat out a mouthful of soil and wiped his filthy face on his sleeve. “I was going to suggest we tried to find an entrance,” he spluttered.
Ben pointed up to the hole in the ceiling. “Found one,” he said proudly.
“Ssh!” hissed Paradise. “Listen.”
They listened.
The cave stretched out to their left and right, like a passageway through the Earth. From along the tunnel on their left, Ben could hear the low growling of something monstrous.
“I can’t hear a thing,” Wesley announced. His voice bounced along the passageway in both directions.
Paradise gestured for him to be quiet.
“You’ve got mud in your ears,” Ben said, pointing to the side of Wesley’s head.
Digging a pinkie finger into each ear, Wesley scooped out some compacted dirt. The sound of the growling reached him immediately. He listened for a moment, nodded once, then tried to pack his ears with soil again.
“Let’s go,” Ben said, drawing his sword and creeping along the passageway.
“What, towards the terrifying monster noise?” Wesley whimpered. “Are you mad?”
“If the monster’s this way, that’s where we’ll find the mayor,” Ben replied.
“If he hasn’t been eaten already!” Wesley said. Paradise shot him one of her glares. “Which he definitely won’t have been,” Wesley added quickly.
As they made their way along the tunnel, a reddish glow began to flicker and dance across the stone walls. They tiptoed on, the growling sounds growing louder around them.
At last, they found themselves at the entrance to a much wider cave. A blast of heat hit Ben in the face, pushing him back into the passageway. Steeling himself, he peeped his head out again. A river of slow-moving lava oozed through the cave, winding along a deep trench in the rocky floor.
Ben managed a quick glance around the cavern before the heat forced him to draw back again. “No one there,” he said.
Paradise touched her fingers to her forehead. “There’s another tunnel on the other side of the lava,” she said. “The monster’s down there somewhere.”
“And the mayor?” Ben asked.
“I’m … I’m not sure. I’m not picking him up.”
“Uh, guys,” said Wesley.
“There’s a bridge,” Ben said, glancing out into the cave again.
“Not another one,” Paradise groaned.
“This one’s made of stone,” Ben assured her. “It’ll be fine.”
“You said that last time,” she reminded him.
“Guys?” squeaked Wesley. “I think… I think we should hurry.”
Ben turned. “No, we can’t hurry, we might slip and…”
That was when Ben noticed the shape moving along the corridor in their direction. It was a big scary-looking shape, but despite its size it was moving really quite quickly indeed. Twin rows of sharp teeth glinted in the glow of the lava.
The roar of the Shark-Headed Bear-Thing shook the walls of the tunnel, threatening to bring more of the roof down on their heads.
Back at Paradise’s village Ben had only caught a quick glimpse of the creature. Here, in the narrow passageway with it racing towards them, it looked bigger and scarier than anything he had ever set eyes on. He held his wooden sword out in front of him, trying his best to keep it from wobbling.
“What are we going to do?” asked Paradise, stepping behind him.
“Die horribly,” Wesley whimpered.
“Ben?” Paradise said. The floor was vibrating with the thunder of the approaching Bear-Thing, each footstep booming along the corridor.
Ben stared. He’d always dreamed of fighting monsters one day, but this one was so big, and so terrifying and…
“Ben!” Paradise said, thumping him on the arm.
He jolted, as if woken from a dream. The monster was fifteen metres away now, and getting closer with each bound.
“Come on, you fight monsters all the time. What do we do?” Paradise demanded.
Twelve metres. Flecks of drool trailed from the thing’s gaping jaws.
Ben shook his head. “I don’t,” he said, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. “I’ve never fought anything before. I made all that up.”
Nine metres. Ben saw himself reflected in the creature’s dark, dead eyes.
“Ha! I knew it,” Paradise cried. “All that stuff about being a great monster hunter, I knew it wasn’t true!”
“You s-say that like it’s a good thing,” Wesley said. “What do we do?”
Six metres. The thing’s muscular body tensed, preparing to make one final fatal leap.
“Run!” Ben yelped, shoving Paradise and Wesley out of the passageway and into the wider cave. The heat hit them like a wave of fire, scorching their throats and stinging their eyes. They staggered blindly towards the bridge just as a snarling ball of rage exploded from within the passageway, its fluffy bunny tail twitching with fury.
The Shark-Headed Bear-Thing skidded on the smooth stone. For one short but happy moment Ben thought it was going to plunge into the fiery lake, but then it found its balance and turned, teeth snapping, towards them. There was no way they could all outrun it, no chance they could all escape.
The picture in the book had made the Bear-Thing seem terrifying. Out in the real world it was much worse. Its dense muscles rippled beneath its thick fur. Its curved claws scraped like knife blades against the rocky floor and dark saliva dribbled down its teeth.
But it was the size of it that was the most terrifying thing of all. Even hunched over on all fours as it was now, it was almost three times as tall as Ben. The leathery skin of its shark-head rustled softly as it turned its dark eyes Ben’s way.
“I… I can’t fight this thing,” Ben said.
“Listen to me,” said Paradise sharply. “It doesn’t matter that you’ve never fought monsters before. What matters is that you can fight one now. And you can. I know you can.”
“How?”
“Because I went looking for a brave warrior who could stop this thing and I found you,” she said. “And I always find what I’m looking for, Ben. Always. If you couldn’t stop it, I wouldn’t have found you. You can do this. You’re the only one who can.”
Ben stared at her as her words sunk in. The Shark-Headed Bear-Thing advanced, its huge paws padding across the floor.
“Go,” Ben said, turning to it. “I’ll hold it back.”
“What do you intend to do? Let it eat you?” Wesley squeaked. “That’ll barely buy us two minutes!”
“Just go. Find the mayor. I can stop it,” Ben said, hoping only he could hear the tremble in his voice.
“You can do this,” Paradise reminded him. She slapped him on the arm. “Don’t you dare die.”
She and Wesley hurried in the direction of the other passageway, and Ben locked eyes with the monster. “You want to eat us? I’m warning you, you’ll have to get through this,” he said, and he held up his sword.
Or, to be more accurate, he held up just the handle of his sword. The rest of it had caught fire and turned to ash when he wasn’t looking. Ben stared at the smouldering remains of the wooden weapon, then back at the Bear-Thing.
With his sword gone, Ben was defenceless. Unless…
The gauntlet! He balled his fingers together, forming a metal fist. He brought it up sharply, hoping the glove’s magic would do its stuff.
With a clank the gauntlet rattled harmlessly against the Bear-Thing’s jaw, and a spasm of pain shot through Ben’s fingers and all the way up to his elbow.
“All right,” Ben said, pinning his aching hand beneath his armpit. “How about we call it a draw?”
And with that, the monster lunged.
Ben ducked and rolled. He heard the whistle of the Bear-Thing’s claws slicing through the air above him, then the sizzle of his skin as his bare arm brushed against the searing floor.
“Ooh, ooh, hot, hot,” he yelped, then he hurled himself sideways as a huge paw cracked the rock where he had been standing.
Ben looked up and saw a flash of a cold, dark eye. He stumbled backwards as the monster’s jaws snapped shut with a clack that echoed around the cave.
“Can’t we talk about this?” Ben asked. The monster made another dive for him. It brought both arms up above its head then slammed them down. Ben barely managed to scramble out of the way before the paws crunched against the stone. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” he yelped, then he ducked again as the monster’s claws slashed at him.
The heat in the cavern made the air shimmer. Ben could feel sweat trickling down his bare legs and into his boots. He squelched as he turned and ran, trying to put as much distance between himself and the monster as possible.
He spun, pulling out his catapult and taking aim with a chunk of volcanic rock. He let fly with the stone. There was a twang and a swish and a soft thup as it bounced harmlessly off the Bear-Thing’s shark-head.
Dropping the catapult, Ben turned and ran again. The ground beneath him shook, and he knew the thing was on the move, chasing him, catching up.
He dodged left. A shadow passed over him and the Bear-Thing snarled as it rolled and thudded against the jagged cavern wall.
“And stay down!” Ben warned. The monster flipped itself back up on to its feet. “Or don’t. It’s up to you,” said Ben, and then he was off and running again.
There was no way he could fight this thing without ending up as a lumpy paste on the floor. He had one chance, though. One chance to escape. One chance to survive.
Ben turned towards the river of lava, lowered his head, and charged. At once he felt the sting of the heat on his face. He pushed on. The air around him seemed to bubble and boil. The hazy black smoke swirled up his nostrils and reached down into his lungs.
Paradise’s voice echoed around the cavern, screaming at him from every direction at once. “Behind you!”
Ben hurled himself sideways, throwing up his hands to shield himself from the searing heat just as the Shark-Headed Bear-Thing sailed past overhead. Rolling to his feet, Ben watched as the monster tumbled down. Its brutish limbs flapped frantically as it tried, for the first time in its life, to fly.
And then failed spectacularly.
SPLOONK!
The Bear-Thing performed an almighty belly-flop into the lava, spraying droplets of burning orange in all directions. It let out a final angry hiss, then it half-sank, half-melted into the mass of molten rock and was gone. Ben stared at the spot where the monster had vanished, half-expecting it to come leaping back out.
It never did. Wiping the worst of the soot from his face, Ben allowed himself a shaky smile.
“I did it,” he mumbled. “I fought a monster.”
“Told you, now hurry up!” Paradise’s voice rang out again. Blinking in the heat haze, Ben scanned the other side of the cave until he spotted Paradise and Wesley in the mouth of another tunnel. “This way,” Paradise said.
“The mayor’s somewhere along here.” Ben tried to speak, but it came out as a series of hoarse coughs. The sooner he got out of the heat, the better. With a last glance at the Bear-Thing’s final resting place, Ben scampered across the bridge and followed the others into the cool dark tunnel.
“That was really quite impressive,” Wesley told him. “Really quite heroic!”
“Yes, the way you dropped your sword and ran for your life like that. Amazing,” Paradise said.
“I didn’t drop my sword,” Ben told her. “It caught fire.”
“And then you dropped it and ran for your life,” Paradise said, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You did good. Now let’s move on.”
“I did do good, didn’t I?” he said. “I actually fought a proper monster!”
“Yes, but don’t keep going on about it,” Paradise said. “We still need to rescue the mayor.”
Ben cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted into the darkness ahead of them, “Maaaaaayor! Yoo-hoo! Can you hear me?”
“What are you doing?” hissed Wesley. “Something might hear us.”
“That’s the whole idea,” Ben said. He puffed out his chest. “You don’t have to worry about the monster any more. I took care of it. Did you see me?”
“We don’t need to shout,” Paradise said. “I can find him. Follow me.”
They moved on. Ten paces later, they stopped again.
“It’s quite dark, isn’t it?” Ben said.
“Can’t see a thing,” Paradise admitted.
“We’re going to die!” Wesley whimpered. “Oh no, wait, hang on,” he added, then there was the sound of him rustling around inside his gaping sleeves.
A moment later a blinding light lit up the passageway, forcing Ben and Paradise to cover their eyes. “Sorry everyone, sorry,” Wesley said. “Here, let me just adjust…”
The brightness dimmed. Ben and Paradise blinked away the spots behind their eyes, then turned to Wesley. He was holding
a small glass jar by a length of string that was tied to the top of it. The glass was a smoky shade of black, but whatever was inside the jar was powerful enough to still be lighting up thirty metres of tunnel in both directions.
“It’s a sun,” Wesley explained.
Paradise frowned. “The sun?”
“No, not the sun,” replied Wesley. “A sun. Just a small one. I won it last year in a contest with a level-three trainee.”
Ben looked impressed. “A magic contest?”
“Tiddlywinks,” Wesley said.
“Oh.”
“I’m really rather good.”
Paradise rolled her eyes and set off along the passageway again.
“So you just walk around with a sun up your sleeve?” Ben asked.
“Among other things,” Wesley said. “It’s amazing what you’ll find up a wizard’s sleeve. There’s stuff even I’ve never seen before. I had a whole family of badgers living up there for six months. Didn’t know a thing about it. Nice glove, by the way.”
Ben held up the hand with the gauntlet. “What, this? Thanks. It was my dad’s. Or my mum’s. Not really sure which. It’s magic.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Not sure what it does, but back at the bridge, when I caught you, I think it made me stronger for a few seconds.
I’ve been fiddling about with it since then, but it hasn’t done anything else.”
A flicker of recognition darted across Wesley’s face. “It looks familiar,” he said. “Here, could you hold this?”
Wesley passed the jar to Ben. “Don’t drop it,” he advised.
“Why not? What would happen?”
“No idea,” Wesley said. “But I’d rather not find out.”
He thrust a hand back inside a sleeve again, then pulled out a book. This book was smaller than the other one, but with just as many pages.
“What’s that one about?” Ben asked, but Wesley was already too engrossed in the book to hear him.
They continued on.
The Shark-Headed Bear-Thing Page 5