by Victor Kloss
Ben decided to focus on Wren. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we ran into a pygmy troll yesterday and he said something I thought was important enough to relay straight to you.” Ben paused for a moment, but thankfully even Draven was now paying attention, so he continued. “The pygmy troll said our kingdom is finished, and that in thirty days ‘they’ will come.”
If Ben was expecting surprise or alarm, he was disappointed.
“Were those his exact words?” Colin asked. “Did he say anything else?”
“No, that was it,” Ben said.
Colin nodded, as if he had expected as much, and Ben was starting to feel a little foolish for rushing up here. He had assumed the message would receive a bigger response than this. Once again, Wren came to his rescue.
“Thank you for letting us know,” she said. “We have been receiving these messages for the last two weeks, from different sources.”
“Does he need to know that?” Draven asked, giving Wren a baleful look.
“Yes,” Wren said simply.
Ben felt some confidence return. “Do all the messages agree on the same time?”
“Yes,” Alex said. “It started at forty-five days, and whenever we can catch one of the Unseen, they all count down in perfect unison. It’s wonderfully coordinated.”
“What does the message mean?“
“Oh, that's simple,“ Alex said, with a nonchalant shrug.“ It’s the Dark Elves playing games with us. Our sources have already told us they are planning an attack, now the dark elves are telling us when, in an effort to scare or fool us. We haven't worked out which.“
“But we don't know where it’s going to happen?”
“No,” Draven said. His hand was curled into a fist, and his eyes narrowed. “Now, I have a question for you. How did you end up facing a pygmy troll? Apprentices are supposed to do nothing more than scout and report.”
“We can let Dagmar handle that,” Wren said smoothly. She smiled at Ben. “Thank you for letting us know, Ben. Such information is always valuable.”
Ben smiled gratefully at Wren and took his cue to leave. He had already turned to face the door when a deep, powerful voice spoke.
“How is your second-grade apprenticeship going?”
Ben turned back around and saw the prince looking enquiringly at him. A quick glance around confirmed that it was indeed the prince who had spoken, and that he was expected to answer.
“It is challenging, but also rewarding, Your Highness,” Ben said, his heart rate suddenly picking up.
The prince smiled. “I have been following your progress when I can, and have been impressed, especially in the Spellsword Department. Your talents remind me of your father’s, and that is a compliment indeed.”
Ben gave a little bow. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
He stood rigidly, and felt all eyes upon him, but nobody seemed inclined to stop the prince from talking.
“We continue to search for your parents,” Prince Robert said. “I want to let you know that we haven’t given up on them. They are very important to the Institute. Very important.”
Ben noticed the gold flecks in Robert’s eyes seemed more pronounced than usual.
“I’m happy to hear that,” Ben said cautiously.
The prince was now looking at him keenly, his eyes narrowing a fraction. There was power, and an element of unpredictability that made the prince far more intimidating than Draven.
“Have you had any sign from your parents?” the prince asked, leaning forwards, his voice dropping. “Anything at all that might give you some idea of their whereabouts?”
Ben’s gaze flickered to Wren, who was looking at him, her ageless face showing rare concern. She didn’t intervene.
Ben forced himself to look into the prince’s golden eyes and spoke with forced calm. “I have not.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the prince said, after a moment of painful silence. “Please be aware that you can come to me personally if you hear anything – anything at all.”
Ben couldn’t help feeling that deep within those gold-flecked eyes, the prince knew Ben wasn’t telling the complete truth.
— Chapter Thirteen —
Hunter’s House
“That’s scary,” Natalie said, as soon as Ben had told Natalie and Charlie his story. They were sitting at the end of a long lunch table, munching down some food. There was a vibrant atmosphere and they weren’t the only people eating with gusto; the Institute had both its members and apprentices working double time, and that was reflected in increased appetites.
“Well, we know all about his family and their obsession with Elizabeth’s Armour,” Charlie said.
“Yes, but we don’t know if Prince Robert has succumbed to that obsession,” Ben said.
“What do you think?” Natalie said.
Ben shrugged, tucking into a dumpling. “I honestly don’t know. Sometimes I think he’s perfectly sane, other times I think he’s lost it.”
“I’m sure we’ll find out one way or the other soon enough,” Charlie muttered. His mouth was full with mashed potatoes and bits of it fell back onto his plate.
Ben wiped his mouth and pushed his plate away. “We need to see Hunter tonight.”
“I thought you’d say that. I guess you’re right,” Natalie said.
Ben glanced around the lunch room. One good thing about the dark elf invasion was that it had everyone talking; the constant chatter made it easier to speak without being overheard.
“We have thirty days before the dark elves attack,” Ben said. “If we can find the helm and its Guardian before then, we might be able to learn where the dark elves plan to strike.”
Charlie picked up a napkin and dabbed his lips. “Possibly, but I wouldn’t count on that until we know more about the helm.”
“How is that coming along?”
“Slowly,” Charlie said, tucking into some broccoli. “I’ve fallen a bit behind on my diplomacy studies, so I’ve had to work on that a bit. I never knew how complicated peace negotiations with the pixie race could be.”
“You’re ahead of me,” Ben said.
“That’s because you’re lagging behind,” Charlie said, frowning. “I saw your checklist and you’re behind in both the Diplomacy and Scholar departments.”
“Not my strong suits,” Ben admitted.
“Well, you need them if you’re going to make it to the third grade,” Charlie said.
Ben raised a hand. “Relax, I’m going to catch up. Can you fit in some more research?”
“I’ll try,” Charlie said.
“Well, I’m glad that’s settled,” Natalie said, giving them both a smile and placing a hand on either of their shoulders. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m also lagging behind on my third-grade checklist, so I need to get to work. I’ll see you both later.”
Ben managed to forget about the helm and their upcoming visit with Hunter as he threw himself into his apprenticeship that afternoon. Charlie was right: Ben had fallen behind in the Scholar and Diplomacy departments, so he spent the first part of the afternoon studying in the library. For the second part, he wandered up to the diplomacy simulation room, dreading his next step – trying to convince a delegation of wood elves to invite him into their forest without filling his body with arrows.
But as he entered the room, he saw that someone else happened to be right in the middle of his task, and it was immediately obvious he was doing a fine job. There must have been a dozen other apprentices in the room, and half of them had stopped to watch.
The central simulation zone was projecting a tiny patch of a wonderfully colourful forest, with three wood elves, dressed in soft green fabrics that looked more real than Ben’s own clothes. They were talking mostly in English, but with some Elvish words thrown in, to make the job more challenging.
Aaron was clearly saying all the right things, for the elves were nodding and smiling. When it was clearly done, they exchanged light hugs and pecks on the left cheek, before
the simulation disappeared.
“Very good, Aaron,” Marie, the Diplomat in charge of the simulation room, said.
Aaron came out with a smile, and held up a finger. “Phew, first time lucky! That wasn’t easy. Do many people succeed first time?”
“No,” Marie said. “And those who do generally go on to be gifted Diplomats, which is a path I hope you end up choosing.”
Aaron picked up a small bottle of water and took a swig. A few other apprentices gathered round to congratulate him or offer a hand-slap. Ben couldn’t help noticing Aaron seemed to always have at least half a dozen friends hanging around him; the incredible thing was that they were seldom the same people.
“Hey Ben,” Aaron said. “Which practical are you up to?”
“The same one, actually,” Ben said, with a smile. “Though I’m fairly certain I won’t pull it off first time. Or second time for that matter.”
“It wasn’t easy,” Aaron said. His eyes lit up, and Ben could have sworn the room became slightly brighter. “Hey, do you mind if we watch how you get on?”
Ben couldn’t help noticing how he spoke for his entire group. He could feel them watching him, but he wasn’t daunted.
“Actually, I do. It’s distracting. This practical is hard enough as it is.”
“Pressure is good for you,” Aaron said, with a sizzling smile that he was sure would have floored many a girl.
“I’ve got enough of that already, thanks,” Ben said. “Trust me, I’m not worth watching. Diplomacy isn’t my strong point.”
Aaron’s voice turned soft, serious even. “An Institute member has the best chance of progressing if he can show real competence in all departments, not just one or two.”
Aaron glanced at Ben’s spellshooter by way of implication. The power behind Aaron’s voice surprised Ben for a moment, but he recovered quickly.
“Point taken. Now, I need to get going. I’ll let you know how I get on,” Ben said. He gave them a very definite wave, and didn’t move until Aaron and his friends finally left the room. Ben noted the keen, calculating look in Aaron’s eyes, as he passed.
Ben passed the practical at the sixth attempt. By the time three o’clock came, he was exhausted.
“Sometimes I wish we could just go in, spellshooters blazing, diplomacy be damned,” Ben muttered to Charlie and Natalie as they left the Institute after a hard day’s work.
“I don’t think you’re going to end up as a Diplomat,” Natalie said, with a smile.
“I hope not, for the Institute’s sake.”
Despite their eagerness to get to Hunter Abney’s house, they weren’t in any particular rush. It was only just past three o’clock and they figured he might not be home until closer to five. They took the Dragonway to Croydon and, from there, the train to Tiddlehurst. By the time they had stopped at a McDonald’s for an early dinner it was almost 5pm, and shortly after they strolled down to Hunter Abney’s house, stopping outside the front path.
“The upstairs light is on,” Ben said, pointing. “Someone is in. Let’s hope it’s Hunter.”
Charlie looked at the house anxiously. “Does anyone else have butterflies in their stomach?”
“Now I do,” Natalie said, giving Charlie a playful slap.
“What’s to be nervous about?” Ben said. “We’re just going to have a friendly chat.”
“Right,” Charlie said, nodding. “Just a friendly chat, that’s all.”
Ben frowned. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”“No,” Charlie said, a little too forcefully. “No, you’re right. Let’s go. Plus, there are lots of people around. He’d never dare do anything stupid.”
Ben exchanged a confused glance with Natalie. Charlie, however, started walking to the front door, so Ben put Charlie’s odd behaviour to the back of his mind.
“Let me do the talking,” Ben said.
Charlie, who was normally happy to comply, shook his head. “I may need to intrude.”
Before Ben could ask why, Charlie rapped the dragon-moulded door handle. It wasn’t long before they heard footsteps. Ben flexed his fists and felt his mouth go dry. He wasn’t normally nervous about speaking to people, but Charlie’s strange behaviour had put him on edge. He heard the sound of a top lock being undone, then a central lock, and then another lock at the bottom.
“Can I help you?”
The photo Charlie had showed them turned out to be fairly accurate, with the addition of a well-trimmed goatee and moustache on a tanned face. His thick eyebrows framing a pair of black, luminous eyes gave Hunter a mysterious look. He was slim and wiry, but Ben could tell there was strength underneath that appearance of frailty. He was dressed all in black, down to his slippers. Around his neck hung an exquisitely crafted locket that looked completely out of place amongst his casual clothes. It was comprised of three small gold circles that formed a rough triangle. The bottom circles were hollow, but the top one was filled with silver.
“Hunter Abney?” Ben said, with a relaxed smile.
“Yes. Who are you?”
Ben maintained his smile. “We are the people who set off your alarm at Edmund’s yesterday.”
Hunter frowned, a skinny hand clasping his locket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have students’ homework to mark.”
Hunter started to shut the door, but Ben extended a hand and blocked him.
“You have no idea? That’s strange, because the Ferral Dogs had collars purchased by you. But if they’re not yours, we’ll take the dogs back to the Institute, as they certainly shouldn’t be wandering loose around here.”
Hunter paused, and eyed each of them closely. “You are from the Institute?”
“We are,” Ben said.
“Prove it.”
They made their diamonds appear momentarily.
“You are apprentices,” Hunter said.
Ben could see him relax a little. “We are, but that doesn’t change the circumstances,” Ben said. “If you could let us in, we have a few simple questions. We won’t be more than five minutes, and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
Hunter peered outside, clearly making sure they were alone. Ben tensed himself, ready to block the door if Hunter slammed it in their faces. But after a moment of inspection, Hunter nodded and let them in.
They entered a small hallway, cluttered by jackets, shoes, and a narrow staircase. Hunter re-locked the door meticulously.
“Follow me,” he instructed.
Hunter led them into a small lounge that was horribly in need of an update. The carpet was tired, the walls were faded, and the small couch and chair looked like they were made in the previous century.
Hunter sat down on the chair, his right hand still fingering the locket. He didn’t ask them to take a seat, but Ben did anyway, sitting himself down on the small couch, with Charlie and Natalie following suit.
“So how can I help you, Mr…?”
“Ben Greenwood,” Ben said, keeping his voice friendly. “And this is Charlie Hornberger, and Natalie Dyer.”
“Greenwood,” Hunter said, his dark eyes becoming momentarily distant. “What can I do for you?”
Ben took a deep breath. He had always been confident they could get into the house and question him. But he could tell already that Hunter wasn’t a talker, and getting information out of this crafty, overly protective man could be tricky.
He looked into Hunter’s dark eyes and went for the jugular. “What do you know about Elizabeth’s Armour?”
Ben almost cheered when he saw the flicker of recognition in Hunter’s eyes, even if it lasted a second.
“Never heard of it,” Hunter said flatly. His long fingers continued to fiddle with the locket.
“Now that’s not true,” Ben said. “Everyone has heard the tale of Elizabeth’s Armour, even if it’s completely false.”
Hunter gave a bored shrug. “Is that it? If so, I’ll see you out. I have things to get on with.”
Ben hesitate
d. He didn’t want to reveal that he was a Guardian, for fear that Hunter might end up being a false lead, but he was running out of ideas to get the science teacher to talk. Hunter had a thin smile on his lips; he knew the game was up.
“I like your locket,” Charlie said, breaking the stand-off. “Do you know where the other two are?”
Hunter’s transformation stunned Ben. The confident, tight-lipped exterior disappeared, replaced by a sudden intensity.
“How do you know about the lockets?” Hunter asked.
Charlie smiled, wagging a small, chubby finger. “Ah, now, that wouldn’t be fair. How about we start being honest with each other?”
Hunter’s eyeballs became slits. After what seemed like an eternity, he gave a restrained nod.
“Excellent,” Charlie said. “I know about the lockets because they were recorded in history by the man responsible for them, the original Director of Scholars, Timothy Dawson.”
“Where did you find such a book?”
“Tut tut,” Charlie said. “One question at a time. It’s our turn now. You are one of the three Protectors of the Helm, correct?”
Hunter blinked; he looked as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He looked down at his locket, and his face relaxed, from rigid denial to something far more palatable.
“Yes, I am the First Protector.”
“Can you gather the others?”
Hunter shook his head. “Only when the helm and the Guardian are required.”
“They are needed now,” Ben said. He knew he shouldn’t intervene when Charlie was making such good progress, but he couldn’t help it.
Hunter didn’t sneer at the remark. He just said, simply, “Prove it.”
Ben glanced at Natalie and Charlie; both gave him encouraging signals, so he continued. “My family are descended from the original Director of Spellswords. I am the Guardian of the Sword and entrusted with gathering the rest of the Guardians and the armour they were entrusted with.”
Hunter’s eyes flashed with interest. “If you can prove that, I will have no hesitation summoning the other Protectors to seek out the helm.”
“How do I prove it?”