by Victor Kloss
Magic. Of course, the arcane dwarves were capable of magic. He cursed inwardly for not expecting such a move.
Ben aimed a spell into his palm, and fired. A sword, tinted red, formed into his hand. Immediately, he felt the room slow, as the magic imbued in the sword enhanced his reflexes and reaction time. He was vaguely aware of Charlie and Natalie forming their own weapons and meeting their opponents with a clash. On his other side, he heard Krobeg give a wild cry and launch into battle. But any further attention to his friends was cut off, as Lidbank and the other dwarf cut at him. Even with his enhanced reflexes, Ben only just fended off the attacks. He aimed a quick riposte and caught the nameless dwarf just below the collarbone, and he cried out and went down. In response, Lidbank spun his sword and launched a flurry of cuts and thrusts, which had Ben backpedalling like mad. He was afraid he would hit the back wall, until he finally spotted an opening, and managed to launch a counter attack, halting his retreat. Summoning every ounce of strength and speed, he slowly pushed the dwarf back. They clashed swords and held their positions, leaning into each other. Ben looked into Lidbank’s eyes – there was no fear there, but Ben could see sweat running down the dwarf’s face. Yet, despite the exertion, the dwarf gave a hint of a smile and, with incredible strength, pushed Ben back.
“You are worthy,” Lidbank said with a respectful nod. “I will take no pleasure in killing you.”
“Nor I you,” Ben said, returning the smile.
Ben used the brief break to steal a glance left and right. Krobeg had downed one dwarf, and was deep in combat with another. He could fight. Really fight. Despite everything, Ben couldn’t help but be surprised. He turned the other way and saw Charlie and Natalie had also taken down one dwarf, but were struggling against the other. Charlie was bleeding, and Natalie looked dazed. But any chance of help was cut off when Ben saw a sword coming for his face. Ben brought his own sword up, and the battle resumed.
It seemed like an eternity of attacking and blocking, cutting and thrusting, but Ben was dimly aware that they had been fighting only minutes. A couple of times, Ben breached Lidbank’s defences, but the arcane dwarf would throw up a magical shield or disappear for a split second. It became increasingly obvious that, with Lidbank’s magic, they were evenly matched, and it would come down to a question of stamina.
Another cry came from his right, and Ben risked another glance. Natalie was down, clutching her head.
Ben cursed, and tried to make a move towards her, but Lidbank cut him off. Panic started to creep in. Charlie wouldn’t survive long by himself. He had to do something, yet he was breathing hard, and had no energy left to launch a surprise attack.
“Krobeg!” he shouted.
“Busy,” Krobeg grunted, momentarily throwing his opponent back.
Ben wiped his brow, surprised to find a mixture of sweat and blood on his hand. His sword felt heavy, but he summoned the last vestiges of his energy, awaiting the dwarf’s next attack.
It never happened. The dwarf raised a clenched fist.
“Enough!” he said in a commanding voice. Immediately, the two remaining dwarves stepped back. Charlie was just about still standing. Krobeg looked better off, but his massive stomach was heaving with exertion.
“There has been enough bloodshed,” Lidbank said. “You have fought well, and because of that, I offer you one last chance. Your lives are not worth wasting. If you leave now, I can offer you safe passage home. That I promise you.”
Ben admired Lidbank’s integrity, and used the much needed break to gather his breath, and think. He desperately wanted to accept the dwarf’s offer.
“We need the breastplate,” Ben said, leaning on his sword. “We cannot leave without it.”
“That is the one thing you cannot have,” Lidbank said, almost sadly. “We have spent decades protecting it, waiting for the Silver Dwarf.”
As exhausted as Ben was, he could tell the three remaining dwarves were hardly better off, on top of which, they were old, far older than he. Charlie could barely stand, but Krobeg looked in decent nick. Could he and Krobeg finish the three remaining dwarves? One look at the over-sized chef, twirling his axe, and Ben could tell Krobeg was thinking the same thing.
“That won’t happen, I’m afraid,” Lidbank said, as if reading Ben’s thoughts.
Ben immediately spotted movement by the back statues, next to the pedestal holding the armour. Six more fully armoured arcane dwarves slipped out from behind the statues, and lined up behind Lidbank.
“Oh, darn,” Ben said.
Any lingering thoughts about how they could grab the breastplate vanished. Ben’s shoulders slumped, as he stared at the six fresh arcane dwarves. He focused on his spellshooter, but knew without looking he had no spell big enough to distract everyone long enough to pinch the armour. Even then, how would they escape?
Charlie, who had dragged a semi-conscious Natalie over to the side and out the way, stumbled over to his side.
“What now?” Charlie said, his voice almost delirious with exhaustion. “Personally, I’m rather tired. Not sure I can go on much longer.”
“I could take out a few of them,” Krobeg said. “Maybe you could make a dash for the armour?”
Ben glanced at Krobeg, and couldn’t help smiling. “I can’t believe you’re saying that.”
Krobeg shrugged. “We’ve come this far; I don’t want to fail now.”
Ben thought about Krobeg’s idea, but was forced to discard it. It was too risky, even for him. They’d never make it out alive. There was only one way they could get out now, and that was without the breastplate.
“Lower your weapons,” Ben said with a heavy heart.
Ben was just about to extinguish his sword, when another movement caught his eye. At first, it looked like a flicker of light; then a shadow caught his eye.
Three of the arcane dwarves suddenly screamed, as their helms were ripped off, and their throats cut. They fell to the floor, in a pool of blood.
Standing over them, barely visible even in the open, were three Shadowseekers. The sight of them was unmistakable: bald heads, gold piercings everywhere, and black cloaks that seemed to reflect light.
“Back!” Lidbank commanded.
The new arcane dwarves spun, and quickly backpedalled, but not before another one suffered a lightning quick thrust into the stomach, and went down. The remaining two arcane dwarves lined up beside the surviving three. Ben, Charlie and Krobeg joined them.
The three Shadowseekers advanced, sword drawn in one hand, purple ball of energy in the other. Ben stepped forwards, his own spellshooter drawn, and fired, just as the Shadowseekers did the same. Two of the purple balls were absorbed by Ben’s white spinning disc, but one made it past. Ben dived towards it, and his natural dark elf defence deflected the purple ball away, sending it crashing harmlessly into the wall.
The instant Ben picked himself up, the Shadowseekers were upon them. The arcane dwarves were excellent fighters, but they were old, and three of them were already tired. The Shadowseekers were ruthless, and inhumanly fast. It was only the dwarf magic that kept them alive, magically deflecting or avoiding the Shadowseekers’ blades.
Ben, along with Krobeg and Lidbank, stepped in, and the battle began again. From the corner of his eye, Ben was pleased to see Charlie step back, and attempt to pepper the Shadowseekers with spells.
Ben and Krobeg fought as a team against a Shadowseeker; somehow the dwarf managed to wield his battle axe with such dexterity that he was able to hold his own, while Ben sought the killer blow. He launched a quick stab to the chest, and pierced the elf right between the shoulder blades. The Shadowseeker went down, but not before swinging a return cut deep into Ben’s shoulder. Ben cried out, but before the Shadowseeker could bury the sword further, Krobeg ended his life.
Ben’s shoulder was in such agony he was forced to extinguish his sword, so he could clasp his hand on the injury to try to dull the pa
in.
There were just two Shadowseekers left, but, to Ben’s despair, only three dwarves were still standing, including Lidbank. Krobeg stepped in to help, but Ben saw blood spilling from numerous cuts, slowing him down. Ben wanted to move, but the pain was so excruciating that his head started to spin. Beneath the pain, he was vaguely aware that their situation was desperate, and unless he did something now, they would be cut down.
It was Krobeg who acted. With a roar of defiance, he managed to barge past one of the Shadowseekers, and all of a sudden, he was sprinting towards the back of the shrine, towards the breastplate.
The Shadowseekers immediately turned and gave chase. Krobeg was quick, and he had the advantage of surprise, but he was no match for the Shadowseekers. Ben somehow managed to raise his spellshooter, and started firing, calling forth whatever spell he could latch on to. By some miracle, one of his spells hit the trailing Shadowseeker on the leg, tripping him up. Lidbank was on him before he could recover, and finished him off. Ben focused his spellshooter on the remaining Shadowseeker chasing Krobeg, but he knew he was too late.
Time seemed to slow, as Ben watched Krobeg reach the mannequin, and pull the breastplate off. In one smooth motion, he pulled it over his body. The breastplate had only just slipped over Krobeg’s stomach, when the Shadowseeker’s sword clattered into it, snapping in half on contact. The armour, just like the helm and the boots, moulded perfectly onto its Guardian’s body, and Krobeg went from a chef to something far more deadly in a matter of seconds.
Krobeg’s eyes expanded, even as the armour did the same, and a sense of wonderment, of realisation, filled Krobeg’s face, looking about the shrine as if he was seeing it for the first time.
The Shadowseeker, seeing Krobeg’s distraction, pulled a knife from his cloak and leapt a full twenty feet, aiming for Krobeg’s face. Ben screamed, and launched a series of spells in desperation, but Krobeg appeared not to notice, and was staring at the ceiling as the Shadowseeker’s deadly knife sailed towards his face in a blur.
An arm extended, almost casually, blocking the knife and slamming into the Shadowseeker’s face in one smooth, effortless motion. It took Krobeg a moment to realise what he’d done, looking down upon the motionless Shadowseeker.
There was a stunned silence. In a flash, the Shadowseekers were down, Krobeg wore the armour, and all eyes were on the chef. It took Ben a moment to realise why. His beard was no longer ginger. It had turned silver.
— Chapter Thirty-Seven —
The Silver Dwarf
Ben’s exhaustion and pain were momentarily forgotten as he stared at Krobeg. The breastplate fit him perfectly, making him look slightly slimmer somehow, but it was the face that made Ben’s jaw drop. His hair and beard were an illustrious silver. They hadn’t changed length, yet they looked thicker and fuller.
Krobeg was shaking his head slowly, and whispering, “It’s not possible.”
A series of sudden thuds made Ben turn and, to his astonishment, he saw the three remaining arcane dwarves bent down on one knee, heads bowed.
The Silver Dwarf. Krobeg. Could it be possible?
Krobeg slowly made his way towards them, still shaking his head. “This isn’t right. Please, stand up. I’m not the Silver Dwarf.”
The three dwarves rose. Lidbank was battered and bruised, his wrinkled face covered with blood, but he wore a tired smile.
“You are not the Silver Dwarf that was. But you are the Silver Dwarf. The prophesy has been fulfilled, though not in the manner we expected.”
Krobeg looked at Ben with alarm. “Prophesy?”
“Long story,” Ben said with a wave. He turned to Charlie and Natalie, who were both lying on the floor. Lidbank gave a sharp nod to his two colleagues.
“Help them.”
Ben watched anxiously as the arcane dwarves hurried over to Charlie, Natalie and the others who had fallen. To his immense relief, Charlie started groaning almost as soon as the dwarves lay their hands upon him. Natalie took a while longer, but eventually she came to, rubbing her head and looking as though she’d just been hit by a truck. Two of the other dwarves also recovered, and the rest were carefully laid aside. Something ice cold touched his shoulder and the intense pain receded to a dull throb.
Ben felt like collapsing on the floor. They had done it. They had the Guardian, and they had his piece of armour. But one look at Krobeg and he knew his work wasn’t done. The dwarf was still struggling to take everything in, occasionally glancing down at his breastplate – and his beard – to make sure it was real. Ben watched him carefully. This was the big test. Was Krobeg ready? Was the chef ready to become a Guardian? Not only that, but a leader for the arcane dwarves, according to the prophesy? Ben could well understand the stunned expression on Krobeg’s face.
“He reminds me of myself when I first discovered that goblins and stuff were real,” Charlie said, hobbling over to Ben. “What do we do now? The arcane dwarves will be expecting him to lead them to glory, won’t they? That’s what the prophesy says.”
“No.”
Lidbank’s voice was surprisingly strong. “You have, I fear, not read the prophesy, but some shortened version of it. Am I correct?”
“Probably,” Charlie said with an embarrassed shrug.
“So what does it say?” Natalie asked, walking gingerly over to join them.
All eyes turned to Lidbank, who in turn focused on Krobeg, and recited. “The Silver Dwarf shall lead his tribe out of the blackness that envelopes this world, into the glory of light.”
Charlie frowned. “How is that any different to what I said?”
“It’s very different,” the dwarf said.
Ben was surprised to see that Krobeg looked thoughtful, rather than horrified, at the dwarf’s recital of the prophesy.
“I need to think,” Krobeg said.
“I understand. We have waited centuries; we can wait a little longer.”
Ben felt a little uneasy. Could Krobeg possibly be considering prioritising the prophesy over his role as a Guardian? He resisted the urge to ask; now was not the time.
The sound of Charlie and Natalie chatting among themselves made him turn.
“Well, we did it,” Natalie said, as Ben joined them. She had a nasty welt on her head, but her elation and cheerfulness somehow shone through her battered body.
“Yeah. Now we have just the sword and shield left to find.”
“And the sword is yours,” Charlie said. “Which means we only have one Guardian left.” His face soured a little. “Unfortunately, we’ve got no leads, not even a flying key or a faded photo.”
“Let’s worry about that later,” Ben said. The last thing he wanted to do right now was think about the next piece of the armour. What he really needed was a bed.
“How do we get home?” Natalie asked. “Do you think those arcane dwarves are waiting for us outside? I hope they’re not too mad.”
“I don’t think it matters if they were bordering on psychotic. We’ve got the Silver Dwarf,” Ben said.
Getting out happened to be easy, but getting home was another matter. The portal they had come through was no longer there, which meant they had to find another way back. Thankfully, the arcane dwarves escorted them back through Jimba Forest, and knew exactly where to go. The forest, such a dangerous place on the way in, seemed no scarier than the ones he was used to at home now that they were under the protection of the dwarves. Ben’s thoughts drifted to the Shadowseekers. Their arrival had wreaked havoc, but had they not come, Krobeg may never have been desperate enough to grab the armour. But how had they gotten there in the first place?
“I wondered the same thing,” Charlie said, when Ben voiced the question. “Jimba is too far away from home for them to have travelled here so quickly. They must have gone through the map, like we did.”
“But how did they get into the shrine?” Natalie asked. “All those other arcane dwarves couldn’t get in.�
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“Couldn’t they? I’m not so sure whether they couldn’t or if they felt they weren’t allowed. Either way, the Shadowseekers got in the same way as the guards did. You didn’t think they were just standing there endlessly waiting for us, did you?”
“I hadn’t given it much thought. I was too busy getting stabbed,” Natalie said.
“Those statues inside the shrine were hollow. They are connected to underground passages. That is how the Shadowseekers got in. Remember how good they are at getting into places? We found that out at the Institute.”
With the Shadowseeker mystery resolved, Ben couldn’t help turning his attention back to Krobeg. The dwarf chef had been remarkably quiet as they trudged through the forest, clearly deep in thought. Ben desperately wanted to find out what was going through Krobeg’s mind, but knew better than to ask. Instead he resorted to glancing over at the dwarf every so often, in the hope of attracting his attention. Krobeg still had Elizabeth’s Breastplate on, and Ben couldn’t help wondering what ability it had imparted on the dwarf. He vividly remembered the way he had blocked the Shadowseeker’s attack. Was it simply an improved ability in combat or something more?
It took a full two hours of walking before Krobeg gave any indication that he had come to a decision. The forest was starting to thin, allowing the evening sun to shine through. The walk was taking its toll on Ben’s injured body, and it was all he could do to concentrate on placing one foot in front of the other. But the moment he saw Krobeg looking at him, the pain was forgotten.
“I’ve figured out what I need to do,” Krobeg said. His voice was soft, but certain.
Ben attempted in vain to feign nonchalance. “Oh yeah?”
Krobeg nodded. “The prophesy says I will lead the arcane dwarves out of the darkness into the light. But it doesn’t say how. That, I believe, is key. There is only one way I can lead the arcane dwarves into a world that isn’t full of darkness.”
“And what way is that?” Ben asked, trying not to hold his breath.
Krobeg gave a grim smile. “By defeating the one thing that is threatening the Unseen Kingdoms. The dark elves. King Suktar.”