by Victor Kloss
“You're not going to tell me you work for MI5 are you?” Anne said with a sudden laugh. “You? MI5? That would be a joke.”
“Not quite,” Greg said. “But nor do we work for Greenpeace. In fact, we never have.”
Anne stopped the knitting, and for the first time gave them her undivided attention. “I never trusted that place. So, where do you work?”
Greg exchanged a look with Jane, before giving a little shrug, and turning back to Anne. “There is no possible way to tell you this in a manner that you will believe me, so I will just come out with it. How is your history? Do you know who Queen Elizabeth I is?”
“Of course I do,” Anne snapped. “I grew up in a time when they actually taught you history. Queen Elizabeth, the 'Virgin Queen’. Born 1533, died 1603.” Anne gave a thin smile. “They made us recite the monarchy, word for word. Still remember most of it.”
“That's handy,” Greg said. “During that time, there was great expansion for the British Empire, with many wars around Europe, including the Spanish Armada. However, her most noticeable discovery was never recorded in history.”
“What are you talking about?” Anne asked with typical abruptness.
Greg took a deep breath, and spoke softly, as if this might somehow help do the impossible and convince Anne of what he was about to say.
“Queen Elizabeth discovered certain islands, or kingdoms, that were different. These kingdoms didn't conform to the normal physical universe laws that ours do. In fact, they were entirely invisible to most normal people, which is why they went unseen for so long.”
Anne frowned, her mouth half-opening. “I'm not following.”
“Unseen Kingdoms,” Greg said. “Islands populated by humans and non-humans alike: dwarves, elves, ogres and dozens of other magical creatures.”
Anne stared at Greg as if he had just lost the plot. “You're joking, right?”
“He's not,” Jane said with a firmness Greg had thus far avoided. “We work for an institute that governs these kingdoms and makes sure they stay hidden. We work for the Royal Institute of Magic.”
Anne looked at Greg. Then she looked at Jane. Then she burst out laughing, throwing her head back with glee.
“That's got to be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Do you think I'm stupid? You really expect me to believe that?”
“No,” Greg said simply.
This sobered Anne a little, and some of her resentment swiftly returned. “Then why waste silly stories on me? I'm not a child.”
“Excellent point,” Greg said. “The answer is simple: we need to hide some information somewhere nobody would think to find it. After much debate, we decided that your mind would be the safest place. Nobody would think to look there, and your natural disbelief in everything will act as a remarkable defence. Couple that with a memory-locking spell, and I think the information I am about to tell you will be safe.”
Anne shook her head. “I'm seriously considering calling emergency services. You've both clearly gone nuts.”
“Possible,” Greg said with a shrug.
He pulled out a spellshooter, previously hidden by an invisibility spell, from his waist, and pointed it at Anne.
Anne went almost cross-eyed looking at the weapon. “What on earth is that? You're not going to—”
“Afraid so,” Greg said.
He fired.
The TV went black.
“What just happened?” Ben said, turning to Natalie. To his surprise, and dismay, he found her frowning and sweating profusely, though she still maintained her yoga position. Anne, too, was sweating, and Ben became aware that she was moaning softly to herself.
“Memory-locking spell,” Natalie said, her voice strained. “It has blocked your grandma from accessing whatever Greg was about to say.”
“Can you unlock it?” Ben asked.
Natalie grunted in reply. “Trying to.”
Ben turned to the TV, willing it to flicker back to life. Everything they had just seen was worthless unless they could access this last piece of memory. Ben wanted to say something, to urge Natalie on, but any noise would just distract her. The chance for Natalie to work in peace was swiftly ruined by his grandma, who started groaning louder and shifting her head left and right.
Ben checked his watch. How long had they been in the memory spell? Five minutes? Ten? The theoretical maximum was no longer than twelve minutes, before irreparable damage could be incurred.
Ben cursed inwardly, and felt his own spellshooter. He had the power to break the spell, but he wouldn't do it until the last minute, to give Natalie every chance of finding what they needed. His grandma cried out loud, and Ben grimaced. Come on, Natalie. He checked his watch again. He would give it ninety seconds, no more, and then he would have to end it.
Natalie's hands suddenly bunched into balls, and she bit her lip.
Eighty seconds.
Ben watched helplessly. His grandma cried out and threw her head forwards.
Seventy seconds.
Ben fingered his spellshooter. Should he end it now?
Sixty seconds.
Ben focused on the orb, and moved the cancelling spell forwards, ready to launch.
Fifty seconds.
“Twenty-three—”
The TV! Ben whipped his head round. It was still black, but he could hear a faint audio coming from the speakers.
“Twenty-three – seventy-one.”
Was that his dad's voice? It sounded like it, but he couldn't be sure.
Forty seconds.
“ Twenty-three – seventy-one. Find me last. I am not hidden.”
Ben frowned. What the hell did that mean?
Thirty seconds.
“Twenty-three – seventy-one. Find me last. I am not hidden.”
That was it, Ben realised. There was nothing else coming, and no pictures at all. His grandma let out an almighty groan, and Natalie shuddered.
Ben lifted his spellshooter, and fired.
— Chapter Twenty-Four —
Ominous Signs
Ben sat on the floor, leaning against the chair. He was exhausted, even though he'd not been directly involved. Anne was now safely tucked away in bed, and Natalie lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
“Damn it,” Ben said for the tenth time in the last half-hour.
“Would you stop saying that?” Natalie said. “We found what we needed.”
“Did we?” Ben kicked a leg in frustration. “We got a couple of numbers, and a riddle that makes no sense: Find me last. I am not hidden.”
“Well, your parents hid that memory for a reason, so it must be important. We just need to work out its significance.”
Ben had thought of little else, but he kept drawing a blank. The numbers could mean anything, and the riddle had no reference. It felt like a lost cause, and the feeling made Ben want to slam his fists against the carpet. His grandma had been his last chance to find the sword, and now that had led to another dead end. Where did that leave him? The thought that all the Guardians bar him would have their pieces of armour made him cringe.
His one faint hope was Charlie. If anyone could solve riddles, it was him.
They met up at the Institute later that day, and found Joshua and Charlie busy in the library, heads buried in books.
“How'd it go?” Charlie asked, dragging his eyes away from the book.
Ben told them everything that had occurred, careful not to miss anything out, no matter how small it seemed; sometimes Charlie picked up clues from the most insignificant facts. Ben wasn't surprised when Charlie's face lit up when he heard about the riddle; even Joshua showed interest, momentarily forgetting his own mission with the sword.
“Very interesting,” Charlie mused, tapping his cheeks. “The question is – did you glean everything from the memory or did you miss something?”
“Well, we got no pictures,” Natalie said, biting her lip. “Do you think that mattered?”
“Possi
bly. If you were supposed to see something and didn't, we may be missing a piece of the puzzle, which will make it that much harder.” Charlie seemed pleased by the thought. “But, honestly, the numbers and riddle seem complete by themselves. We just need to link them up to something.”
“What, though?” Ben asked. “The numbers could relate to anything.”
“That's what we have to find out.”
Natalie twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “What about the riddle?”
“No clue,” Charlie said with a cheerful smile. “But we can work on that. I'm sure we can come up with some ideas, but it might take a bit of patience.”
“Not my strong suit,” Ben admitted, flicking an idle page on the book. “Especially given the whole dark elf attack thing.”
Joshua gave Ben the sort of frown he'd not seen in a while. “You will just have to work it out. Charlie and I have our hands full already, trying to figure out what awaits us at Lord Samuel's house.”
To Ben's surprise, Charlie nodded in agreement. “There are going to be some nasty surprises there, and unless we're prepared, we haven't got a chance.”
Ben couldn't argue with the reasoning, but he still felt a little hurt that Charlie had sided with Joshua.
“Don't worry about Charlie,” Natalie said, giving Ben a sympathetic smile as the two of them left the library. “You know how he is when he's knee deep in research. I'm sure he'll help us when he's got a minute.”
“I'm fine,” Ben said, surprised Natalie had read his thoughts so well. “So, I guess it's me and you for now.”
“It's not just us,” Natalie said. “There's also Dagmar, Abigail and even Krobeg, if we need them. Between us we'll find something.”
Ben nodded, throwing away the doubts that had been nagging him. “Well, we've got two weeks until our date on Vanishing Street, so we need to have the sword before then.”
*
The next few days were some of the hardest and most frustrating of Ben's Institute life. With no leads, and no Charlie to help, searching for the sword was even harder than the Diplomacy practical he was stuck on, involving a seriously dysfunctional sprite family. For three days he'd visited their house and he'd got nowhere.
“Enough!” Ben shouted.
The family of six looked at him with a mixture of shock and anger. Raising his voice was one of the many things not to do when dealing with sprites, but Ben didn't care.
“I'm sick of this,” Ben said. “You know what the Institute wants. As crystal sprites, you are one of the few of your kind that has the ability to venture into dark elf land without being detected. Now, are you interested in helping or not?”
“We're interested, but not for the pathetic terms you offer, apprentice,” the largest sprite, Thell, said. “The danger alone should be worth twice what you offer.”
Ben ground his teeth. “I've told you already, the Institute's resources are stretched to the limit, and that includes their coffers. I can offer you thirty percent more, but you will have to take it on credit, providing we win the war.”
“Thirty percent?” Thell said, balling his tiny hands theatrically. “That's an insult. Our very lives will be at risk!”
“Thirty percent,” Ben repeated with a shrug. “Take it or leave it.”
“Leave it!” Thell cried.
Ben knew he should care – the crystal sprites were a crucial part of the Institute's spy network, and Thell was right – it was a dangerous mission; many had already fallen to the enemy – but he was struggling to really care about anything except finding Elizabeth’s Sword. It was now three days since they had searched Grandma's memory, and they had got nowhere.
“Thirty-five percent and you have a deal.”
It was the soft, calculating voice of Tressa, Thell's wife, who was eyeing Ben with a good deal more intelligence than her husband.
“Done,” Ben said emphatically. He extended his hand and interlocked it with Tressa’s to seal the deal. “Report to the Institute when you are ready. I will have a Warden waiting at the door for you.”
Ben left the sprites’ house feeling a little better. At least he'd done something worthwhile today, even if it had nothing to do with Elizabeth's Armour.But his good mood didn't last, as the rest of the week passed without any development on the sword, with Natalie having no luck either. He even tried Dagmar, but though she had an opinion, none of it was particularly helpful.
“You know your parents better than me,” Dagmar said. “Where do you think they would hide it?”
“Somewhere nobody would think to look,” Ben said glumly. “That's the problem.”
“Well, that's where I suggest you start.”
He knew he'd searched his grandma's house a hundred times, but Ben couldn't shake off the idea that somehow his parents had hidden it there. And so, on Thursday, he, Natalie and Abigail left the Institute after lunch, and headed to his home.
“Do you have any new ideas where it might be or are we going to look in the same places?” Abigail asked in an innocent voice that was devoid of accusation.
“Same places,” Ben said. “But I'm thinking we should look at them differently.”
“What do you mean?” Natalie asked.
They left the Croydon station and started the walk through town. It was grey and there was a trickle of rain that England was famous for, though Ben barely noticed it.
“There are lots of ways to hide the sword, if you use magic,” Ben said. “For example, what if they are using time, not space, to hide it?”
“You mean, hiding it in a different time?” Abigail said. She smiled. “That would be neat.”
“Neat, but not easy to find. How do you find something that's always in the past?” Natalie said.
“No idea,” Ben said with a shrug. “I'm just guessing here, but, knowing my parents, they've thought of something clever but so simple nobody would ever think of it.”
“Well, why don't we split up this time,” Natalie said. “I'll check the house today; you checked it yesterday.”
Ben was nodding in agreement when he spotted the strange object on the pavement ahead of them. “What on earth is that?”
The street was busy, with kids and adults making their way home from school and work, yet nobody saw the purple pod sitting right in the middle of the pavement. It must have been at least six feet tall, and was covered with peculiar writing etched in black. Ben recognised the writing immediately and his blood froze.
It was the dark elf tongue.
“Don't touch it, Ben!” Natalie warned.
But Ben's hand was already reaching out, before realising it might not be a good idea. The pod felt warm, almost alive. It was certainly hollow. There was a soft pulsing that came from within, making the pod blink every few seconds.
“Are you okay?” Natalie asked.
“Yeah. It feels like it’s alive.”
“Maybe it is,” Abigail said. She started looking around at the people passing by. “Why is nobody else looking at it? See that man there? He just swerved right round it without realising what he was doing.”
“It must be protected by a glamour spell,” Natalie said. “It must be a weak one, only strong enough to work on people oblivious to the Unseen Kingdoms.”
Ben squinted his eyes. “The question is – what's inside?”
“And when is it going to come out?” Abigail asked.
The three of them exchanged looks of increasing alarm.
Suddenly, Elizabeth's Sword didn't seem like the most pressing issue.
“We need to tell the Institute,” Ben said.
“You think they don't know?”
“I'm not sure, but if they don't, we need to tell them.”
Neither Natalie nor Abigail argued the point, and they immediately turned round.
Ben spotted three more pods. Two across the street and a big one that must have been at least ten feet high dead ahead.
“That was
n't there a minute ago!” Abigail said, stating the obvious.
“No, it wasn't,” Ben said, his voice tight. “Come on, we need to hurry.”
They passed a further six pods on their way back to the Dragonway. As soon as they stepped into the station, it became obvious that the pods were already known about. The members were talking about nothing else, and there was a worrying anxiety on their faces.
“At least they're aware of it,” Natalie said. “Do you still want to go back to the Institute?”
“Yes,” Ben said. “I want to find out what's going on. The constant chatter here isn't exactly reliable. I want to speak to Dagmar.”
As they took the Dragonway back to the Institute, Ben couldn't stop thinking about the pods. They looked alien, and yet throbbed with life and magic. The thought that they were accumulating all over the place, with the population completely ignorant, sent a shiver down his spine.
Ben headed straight for Dagmar's office upon arrival, and had to exercise considerable restraint in the vigour of his knocking.
“She's not there,” Abigail said after several unanswered knocks. “If she was, she'd answer. She always does.”
“She's probably in a meeting,” Natalie said. “Especially if the pod thing just started happening.”
He tried once more, and then decided on the next best thing: the library. He headed downstairs, but came to a shuddering halt the moment he passed through the library doors.
Ben had never seen it this busy before. Institute members, mainly Scholars, dashed about, grabbing books, and talking with rare animation, obliterating the usual quiet, peaceful aura. Ben searched for Joshua and Charlie and eventually found them shunted to the end of a table at the far side of the main reading hall. Both were staring with complete bewilderment at the Scholars.
“Charlie!” Ben said, relishing the chance to shout and not get punished inside the library.
Charlie turned, startled. “What's going on? Ten minutes ago we were reading in peace, and then this happened.” Charlie waved at the number of Institute members who had stormed in.