by Victor Kloss
“Right family, wrong person,” Ben said, repeating Joshua's words. “So who was the Guardian?”
“My grandfather,” Joshua said. “He never told my father or my uncle. The knowledge passed directly to me just before he passed away.”
Ben understood what Joshua was saying, but his brain was struggling to process it. “So, you're a Guardian?”
“Guardian of the Shield, yes,” Joshua said.
“Impossible,” Ben said, before he could stop himself.
If he expected anger from Joshua or outrage, he didn't get it.
“I expected you’d say as much,” Joshua said. “The truth is, I have only known for a few weeks. My grandfather recently passed away, and it was only after everything he said and re-watching several memories in my life that I began to believe him. What I had a much harder time believing was you, Ben.”
“Me?”
“Yes. While I may be a Guardian, you are the Head Guardian. My role is important, but yours is more so. I found this difficult to take in, given the historical importance of our families. I couldn't bring myself to believe that it is you, not me, who is responsible for uniting the Guardians and destroying Suktar.”
Despite Joshua's fragile state, Ben couldn't help let slip a hint of disgust. “That's what all your comments were about before, then? It cannot be. It's not meant to be. You simply didn't want me in charge?”
“You have no idea of my family history,” Joshua said, going slightly red. “Lord Samuel, my great ancestor, was an extremely important man. Michael Greenwood was a baker's boy. All this wouldn't matter, except when the queen chose Michael to be the Head Guardian, she was clearly unwell. Lord Samuel writes on multiple occasions that she was going a bit loopy, with what we know today as Alzheimer's disease. Samuel felt a grave mistake had been made, but he could not convince Michael Greenwood to relinquish the role. He felt Michael was putting the entire mission in danger. And when I discovered this, and watched you and your flippant, uncaring, spontaneous nature, I knew he was right.”
“That's not fair,” Natalie began, but Ben cut her off with a wave.
“I don't care what you think about me,” Ben said truthfully. “If you are truly a Guardian, of which I'm yet to be convinced, then we have found everyone. Only two pieces of armour remain – mine and yours.”
“You don't believe me?” Joshua asked, his upturned nose twitching.
“What proof do you have?”
“Plenty, actually,” Joshua said. “I have letters from my grandfather, correspondence from Lord Samuel himself, as well as various precious items referenced by both these men to back my claim up.”
Ben thought then of the key Joshua had retrieved from the antique store.
“What evidence do you have, though, Ben?” Joshua asked. “None, I bet. Thankfully for you, I happen to know your family history, probably better than you do, and I am satisfied.”
“Thank god for that,” Ben said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Charlie, who had been uncommonly quiet, spoke up. “So, where does this leave us?”
“I need to find the shield, and Ben needs the sword,” Joshua said without hesitation. “As I understand it, the rest have been found, along with their Guardians.”
The transformation was quite remarkable. Something changed the moment Joshua got that titanic secret off his back – a weight had been lifted. Gone was the apathy, but the unfriendly arrogance had returned. Ben preferred the unfriendliness, as apathy often resulted in complete inaction, but it was definitely less pleasant.
“It might be easier if we work together,” Natalie said.
“No,” Joshua said. “I work alone. And the sword is your responsibility, Ben.”
“Actually, they are both my responsibility,” Ben said, giving Joshua a sudden smile. “I'm the Head Guardian. It is my job to re-unite each Guardian and their piece of armour, remember?”
Joshua bit his lip and cringed, looking as if he had just swallowed a lemon. To Joshua's credit, he didn't challenge the claim, though it looked like he dearly wanted to.
“I know where the shield is, but not how to get there,” Joshua said finally. “The shield is located in Lord Samuel's house on Vanishing Street, in London.”
Ben gave Joshua a blank stare, but both Charlie and Natalie gasped.
“He has a house there?” was Charlie's immediate response.
“It's the one at the end of the street, rumoured to be larger even than Lord Nelson's,” Joshua said, thrusting his chest out a little.
“I'm guessing by its name, Vanishing Street isn't the easiest place to get to?” Ben said.
“You've not heard of it?” Joshua asked with just a fraction of a smirk that reminded Ben of old times.
“I'm not from around here, remember?” Ben said. “Natalie knows of it, and Charlie knows more or less everything. So fill me in.”
“It's the most famous, grandest, most expensive street in all of London – and that includes both the Seen and Unseen districts. The only problem is that it's so exclusive, it's extremely difficult to find.”
“Even for you?” Ben asked. “I mean, it's your ancestor’s house.”
“Especially for me, most likely,” Joshua said. “Each piece of armour is supposed to be well hidden, and I believe Lord Samuel took it upon himself to make the shield the hardest piece of all to find.”
“You need an invitation, right?” Charlie said.
“Yes,” Joshua said, giving a small but approving nod to Charlie. “To get to Vanishing Street, you need an invitation to one of the residents’ houses, on a certain day, at a certain time. Miss that, and you've missed your window. There is no other way to get there.”
“So, we need to find someone else who lives on that street, assuming nobody in your family still lives there?”
“The house is empty,” Joshua said. “That much I know. So, yes, we need to find some other family who live there. I have some prospects that I have been working on, but it is taking longer than I hoped.”
“Charlie can help you,” Ben said.
Joshua immediately shook his head. “I'm doing fine by myself. I do not need help.”
Ben's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forwards. “You just said it is taking longer than you hoped. That doesn't sound like you are doing fine.”
Joshua had no immediate response to this, so Ben pressed on.
“Time is of the essence, remember? We can't afford to be self-righteous about this. We've found three Guardians and their pieces of armour already, and it takes a lot of time and work – time we don't have. You are going to need all the help you can get.”
Joshua's expression darkened for a moment, as he took in Charlie, who stared pleasantly back at him.
“Fine. I will use Charlie to help me find Vanishing Street,” Joshua said eventually. “But while we are doing that, you need to find your sword. Have you got anywhere?”
Ben detected a clear challenge in Joshua's voice, but he refused to rise to the bait.
“Yes, we have actually,” Ben said, thinking of his grandma. Suddenly, she became important, now that his lead with Joshua had gone nowhere, for the sword at least. “You find Vanishing Street, and I'll concentrate on the sword.”
— Chapter Fifteen —
The Prince's Offer
No,” Natalie said firmly.
Joshua and Charlie had left, both looking rather uncomfortable with each other. Ben wasn't concerned – they'd be fine the moment they hit the library. Charlie might be anti-social, but when in the library, he could work with anyone.
“So you still want to wait five more days before casting the memory spell, even after everything that just happened?” Ben asked.
“Your grandma needs that recovery time,” Natalie said with forced patience. “You don't seriously want to put her in danger, do you?”
“No,” Ben said, sighing. “You're right. It's just that she's my only lead. I really thought Joshua
would provide me with a clue to the sword. I got that wrong.”
“It still worked out, though,” Natalie said. “He's the last Guardian, and he and Charlie are hot on the trail of the shield.” She smiled. “We're almost there, Ben. We're almost ready.”
Ben didn't show quite as much enthusiasm as Natalie, for two obvious reasons. First, he still hadn't decided if she and Charlie should come on the final journey – a decision that was going to cause pain no matter what he chose. But, more significantly, the thought of setting off to try to kill the most powerful living being on the planet was terrifying.
They brainstormed for a little while longer about the sword, but got nowhere. Ben was left with no option but to wait the five days, unless something else came up.
Even with the apprenticeship, the extra Spellsword lessons, and the havoc the dark elves continued to wreak, those five days did not pass quickly. Joshua took every opportunity he had to ask about the sword's progress whenever they met.
“What leads do you have?” Joshua said.
Joshua had taken to having lunch with them occasionally, much to Ben's displeasure. Natalie, being Natalie, was quickly getting used to the old Joshua, but Ben was having difficulty, especially with all the digs about the sword.
“I have a few,” Ben said vaguely. “Don't worry about me. How are you guys doing?”
“Pretty good,” Charlie piped up, before Joshua could intervene. “We have three families we think might own properties on Vanishing Street. Two are royal families from significant Unseen Kingdoms, and the third owns half the magic industry. The trick is to locate someone who is currently living there, as that is a criteria to getting an invite. London isn't exactly the safest place right now.”
A part of Ben was delighted Charlie and Joshua were making progress, but a smaller, selfish part was just a little upset that they were doing so well, while he was striking out. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn't shake the thought away.
That night, before he went to bed, Ben caught himself staring at his grandma, who was eating dinner while watching the news. He was thinking about the memory spell, and trying to gauge a critical eye over her progress. She certainly seemed back to her normal self. Were five more days really necessary?
“Did you see that?” Anne said, stabbing a fork perilously close to Ben's private area. “The country is going to pieces. I knew it was going to happen; it was just a matter of time.”
“Why, what's going on?” Ben asked. He had been paying attention to his grandma, not the TV.
“You should be watching this, Ben; it's important. People are dropping dead all over the place.”
“Dead?” Ben said, turning to the TV in alarm.
“Well, as good as. They're going unconscious, and the medical people are having a hell of a time waking them up. Happened to my friend Caroline just the other day. White as a ghost she looked, as if she'd just seen one.”
Ben was careful to show just the right level of concern. “That's terrible. I hope they find out what's happening.”
“They will or they won't,” his grandma said. “I've never had much faith in the NHS, to be honest. Waste of money.”
Ben decided to let her continue her rant alone – she probably wouldn't realise he was gone, and when she did, she definitely wouldn't care.
Ben was sure the Institute knew what was happening, but the fact that it seemed to be going unchecked was alarming.
That night it took a little longer than usual for Ben to get to sleep.
Ben woke to a room that was vast and looked strangely familiar. The floor was entirely marble, and there were huge columns running along the walls that rose up to a ceiling Ben could barely see, such was its height. A cold breeze ran through the room, though its origin was uncertain, as was the faint light that permeated the place.
He was dreaming, that much was obvious. It was an odd dream, though; he felt more aware than usual, yet there was no other explanation. He looked around once more – there wasn't much happening in this particular dream.
“Are you sure you're dreaming?” a deep, powerful voice said. Ben couldn't place its origin – the voice seemed to come from everywhere.
Out from one of the columns stepped a dark elf that made Ben shudder. Prince Ictid looked exactly as he had the last time they met. He wore a purple cloak with sparkling gold hieroglyphs. For an elf, he was huge, well over six feet, with broad shoulders. His eyes glowed purple, and on his head was a small crown. The only difference to their last meet was that in this dream place Ben was able to stare at the prince without his eyes burning.
“I fell asleep a moment ago, and I woke here,” Ben said. “I can't see how I'm not dreaming.”
“There are many different types of dreams,” Prince Ictid said, walking slowly towards Ben. “Some are harmless – others aren't.”
With a casual flick, Ictid threw a small ball of energy at Ben. It hit him and seared his shoulder. Ben cried out, and rubbed the injured area – the skin was red and burnt.
“See what I mean?” Ictid said with a smile. “Elizabeth's magic won't protect you here.”
Ben took an involuntary step back, fear rushing through his body and freezing his veins.
“What do you want?” Ben asked, trying to inject some defiance into his voice.
“Do not be scared,” Ictid said. “I have only come to talk. I have a proposition for you that comes straight from my father. It is not one you should ignore.”
“I'm listening,” Ben said, simply because it bought him more time to try to work out what was happening. He'd never read anything about this semi-dream world; it wasn't covered in his studies – at least not yet. Could he die here? Surely not.
“You must know by now that our invasion on your Seen Kingdoms is inevitable, as is our success,” Ictid said. “It is only a matter of time; your government will fall.”
Ben knew there was more coming, so he remained silent.
“However, my father is a curious man. Despite his incredible power, he is always seeking more. That is where Elizabeth's Armour comes in. He wants it.”
Ben had heard this before. “In order for him to utilise its power, you need our blood – all of it. I remember you saying that.”
“I was wrong,” Prince Ictid said with a casual shrug. “I thought we did, but having spoken to my father, he assures me that only one pint per Guardian is required for the spell that is needed to harness Elizabeth's Armour.”
It didn't matter if Ictid was telling the truth or not, Ben had no intention of handing over a droplet of blood, let alone a pint. But he kept that to himself.
“If we give him the armour, he will truly be immortal,” Ben said.
“That state has practically already been achieved,” Prince Ictid said. “Believe me, there is nothing that can stop him. Your Institute is your last hope, and it is a feeble one.”
Prince Ictid spoke as though the war had already been fought. The frankness scared Ben more than any threats could have.
“So you are asking us not to use Elizabeth's Armour to try to take down Suktar? What do we get in return?”
“If you willingly relinquish the armour, we will let your parents go, unharmed, and guarantee your safety.”
“Is that it?” Ben asked, trying for a nonchalance he did not feel.
“No,” the prince replied. “We will give you one of the Unseen Kingdoms that we see fit, and allow one thousand Seens of your choosing to live there in peace, thus preserving your otherwise dying race.”
Ben was silent. Did Prince Ictid really think they would be able to wipe out all of humanity? It appeared so. That was impossible, surely?
“I need to think on it,” Ben said, trying to sound convincing. “It is a decision that involves all the Guardians, not just myself.”
“I understand,” the prince said. “You have twenty-four hours. We will meet here again. I will hope for good news, for both our sakes.”
Ben raised a hand. “Wait, I�
�”
His eyes shot open, and Ben found himself staring at his bedroom ceiling. The morning light was creeping through the curtains.
Ben sat up, rubbing the fine stubble that was starting to accumulate on his face. His drowsiness, which normally took a few minutes to wear off after waking, vanished the moment he recalled his dream.
“Oh shit,” was all he said.
— Chapter Sixteen —
A Decision to Make
Well, that's a hell of an offer,” Charlie said, the following morning.
The two of them were on the Dragonway, which was typically busy and noisy at this time of morning, giving them a bit of time to talk without fear of being overheard.
“Yeah. The good news is that we could get your family into the kingdom. Then we could hand pick all the families with the most attractive daughters, and create a kind of paradise.”
“You're making it a difficult proposition to turn down,” Charlie said. “Other than the small matter that we would have to sacrifice millions of lives, as there would be no creditable opponent to Suktar with the armour in his hands.”
“Yes, there is that,” Ben said. “Damn it, I guess that's a deal breaker. What a pity.”
The humour didn't last long, as they both considered Prince Ictid's offer in all its seriousness.
“What are you going to do?” Charlie asked.
“Speak to Dagmar,” Ben said immediately. “I need to work out how to avoid going into that place. He must have pulled me in; there has to be a way to stop that.”
“And if there isn't?”
“Then I need to find out what that place is, and how I can defend myself.”
“From someone as powerful as Prince Ictid?” Charlie said doubtfully.
“I can't believe he could just pull me in there and kill me. If that was possible, we would all be dead already.”
“Not if he wanted your blood,” Charlie said. “Not if their plan all along was to harness Elizabeth's Armour for themselves, as we now believe it might be.”