The Silver Dwarf (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 4) (11 page)

An hour later, Ben felt he had fully worked off the chicken baguette he had eaten, negotiating with some of the toughest traders to get the most out of his
two hundred pounds for spells he might just need against the German kobold. Hopefully that took care of the Scholar and Trade departments. It was now two
o’clock, which gave him a couple of hours to track down the kobold. Ben picked up the pace.

Ben knew the neighbourhood of Igloor fairly well, having passed through it regularly to get to one of his favourite restaurant districts. It was an
uninspiring area, known primarily for housing people who couldn’t afford to live in the nicer areas of Taecia. Its only redeeming feature was a quaint
bridge that ran over a bubbling stream and led to a pleasant green area. Next to it was a small woodland, famous for its apple trees, according to Charlie.

But on this occasion, the aromas coming from the restaurants could be a problem. Ben had read that the German kobold emitted a very specific smell from the
household it chose to domesticate, and the smell of food from the nearby restaurants would only complicate matters. Ben was still debating the issue when
he came upon Igloor Street. He stopped, hands on hips, examining the houses and the small stream that ran alongside them, already testing his sense of
smell to see what he could detect.

“Ben?”

A familiar voice made him turn. To his great surprise, he saw Aaron strolling down the street towards him. He was looking at each of the houses with great
interest.

“Well, that’s good timing,” Aaron said, with one of his easy smiles. “The question is – are we here to look for the same thing? Because if so, one of us is
going to be disappointed and, frankly, I’d rather that wasn’t me.”

Ben didn’t take the bait. “What are you looking for?”

Aaron gave a soft laugh. “Come on, Ben, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to tell you that. We’re not on the same team, remember?”

“So you keep reminding me,” Ben said. “What do you want to do? I’m not leaving this street.”

Aaron clearly wasn’t happy about that, but Ben couldn’t care less. He couldn’t imagine the Institute having them look for the same creature, for it would
mean one of them would have to fail. But Aaron looked worried, and Ben wasn’t about to reassure him.

“If you won’t do me the honour of leaving,” Aaron said eventually, “I guess we’ll both wander down this street, until one of us finds something.”

Ben smiled, enjoying Aaron’s displeasure. “Yes, let’s do that.”

Aaron set a purposefully slow pace, which Ben matched. It was an odd moment, both of them examining each passing house. Was Aaron looking for the same
signs? One thing was for certain: Ben wasn’t going to give his game away with Aaron around.

A sudden cry from nowhere disrupted Ben’s thoughts and made him jump.

“What was that?” Ben asked, taking his attention off the houses.

He saw the problem immediately, on the open field across from the stream. There was a mother pushing a buggy with a young boy in tow. It was she who had
made the cry, and was staring into the small woodland with a look of pure horror.

A huge wolf emerged, stepping out from the woods onto the field. It wasn’t a wolf, Ben realised, but a Ferral dog. It had a huge grizzled body, spiky ears,
and long fang-like teeth. It gave an excited growl, and started forwards towards the mother and her children.

“Uh oh – you see that?” Ben asked, turning to Aaron.

Aaron was watching the scene keenly, his hand on his spellshooter. “I see it. Come on, let’s go help.”

Ben didn’t need asking twice. He dashed across the bridge, over the stream, and onto the field. Heart thumping, he sprinted towards the mother and her
children, his only thought to get there before the Ferral dog. He made it just in time. The Ferral dog had spotted him and slowed its advance, taking in
its new adversary. But its surprise wouldn’t last long, especially when it realised Ben didn’t pose much of a threat.

“Oh, thank you!” the mother said, scrambling to get herself and her boy behind Ben. Her initial reaction at Ben’s obvious youth was dismissed the moment
she saw the spellshooter in his hand, and the flashing diamonds over his shoulder.

“No problem,” Ben said, throwing the mother a reassuring smile. He turned to Aaron. “What sort of spell do you—?”

Ben stopped.

Aaron wasn’t with him. To his astonishment, he spotted Aaron across the stream, still on Igloor Street. He hadn’t moved a jot.

“What’s your friend doing?” the mother asked. “Is he going to get more help?”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

He dismissed Aaron’s treachery from his mind and drew his spellshooter. He had only a limited number of spells, and they were meant for the German kobold.

“Are you going to shoot the bad doggy?”

Ben turned, and saw the little boy looking with remarkable lack of fear at the Ferral dog.

“I’m still thinking about it,” Ben admitted, pulling the little boy back, out of harm’s way and into the arms of his mother. What had Natalie said about
Ferral dogs? They don’t eat young ones, but that didn’t stop them playing with them. What sort of spells could he use against these things? Now Ben wished
he had paid more attention to the section on freakishly large pets during his studies.

“Where do you live?” Ben asked, keeping his voice light, while watching the dog.

“Across the bridge, on Igloor Street,” the woman replied. Despite the danger, she was doing a remarkably good job of remaining calm in front of her kids.

“Okay.” Ben took a deep breath. “As soon as I fire, I want you to start walking to the bridge. Don’t run, as it might attract the dog’s attention. Got it?”

The mother nodded nervously.

Ben set himself and readied his spellshooter. He mentally sifted through the spells in his orb. There wasn’t really any he could spare, but he had to use
something.

“Get ready!”

Ben fired a small fireball right into the Ferral dog’s nose.

The dog roared. The mother grabbed her buggy and child, and headed for the bridge. Ben stood fast, placing himself between the dog and the fleeing family.

The Ferral dog was rattled, and shook its ragged fur furiously. Ben hoped it would retreat back into the small woodlands. But it didn’t. Instead, it shook
itself down and gave Ben a rather unpleasant look, green eyes shining with malevolence.

Ben couldn’t afford to waste any more spells, unless he wanted to sacrifice any chance of capturing the German kobold.

The Ferral dog hunched down, ready to strike.

With a curse of frustration, Ben holstered his spellshooter, and raised his arms, tensing himself.

“You want to fight?” Ben growled. “Let’s do this.”

Before the dog could move a muscle, Ben leapt right at him, diving into the dog’s broad shoulders with everything he had. It was only surprise that gave
Ben any sort of chance, for it was clear the Ferral dog was not used to being attacked by a human.

They both went down in a heap – Ben punching and scrapping; the Ferral dog trying to get its mighty claws and jaws to bear. Ben managed to avoid them for a
few valuable seconds, but eventually he cried out in pain, as the dog dug his teeth into Ben’s arm. A solid knee into the dog’s underbelly quickly released
the jaws. Ben felt dizzy, blood seeping along his shirt, but the Ferral dog’s appetite for combat was also starting to wane. Summoning the last of his
strength, Ben thumped the dog squarely in the jaw, like a prize fighter going for the killer blow. The Ferral dog had had enough. With a yelp, it tore away
from Ben, and fled back into the woodland.

Ben lay flat on his back in the grass, panting, pain raking through his body. He seemed to be stinging everywhere, and his skin was a mass of red welts.
Elation at victory temporarily revived him, and he stood up; but another look at his injured body promptly had him sitting down again. He tenderly wiped
away the blood as best he could, and stumbled to his feet. From across the bridge, he could see the mother staring at him. He gave her a reassuring wave,
but it took a little time to hobble along the field and over the bridge to re-join her.

“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” she asked, the moment she saw his state. She extracted a bunch of baby wipes from her nappy bag and started dabbing his exposed scratches.

“Ow! I’m fine, thanks,” Ben said. “Just a little scratched. Nothing that won’t heal.”

“I cannot thank you enough,” the mother said, reluctantly putting the baby wipes away. “I shall be reporting your bravery to the Institute – it is
exemplary. You know, I’ve walked along here for years now and never encountered any Ferral dogs before.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial manner.
“Do you think it has anything to do with any of the dark elf rumours? I’ve heard they are causing all sorts of trouble.”

Ben shrugged. “Possibly. I wouldn’t worry about it too much, but it might be wise to walk somewhere else in future, just in case.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” She gave Ben one more look of gratitude. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?”

Ben turned and glanced down the neighbourhood. “You didn’t see my friend, did you?”

“No – he left as soon as I came across the bridge, which was a shame because I wanted to have a few words with him.”

Ben smiled. “I would have liked to have seen that.”

Had Aaron found what he was looking for or had he moved on? It didn’t much matter now.

“You said you live around here, right?” Ben asked.

“Yes – why?”

Ben ran a hand through his hair. “I know it’s a long shot, but I’m on duty for the Institute, trying to track down an Unseen that shouldn’t be here. They
aren’t easy to find, but they do have one distinctive giveaway, and that’s their smell.”

The mother brightened immediately. “Tomato ketchup?”

Ben grinned. “That’s it! Have you smelled anything like that around here recently?”

In a way of acknowledgement, the mother started pushing the buggy down the street. As they approached the corner, Ben got his first whiff – it was faint,
but unmistakable.

“These three houses have all complained of the smell in the last forty-eight hours,” the lady said. “I’ve also heard rumours that they’ve been complaining
about their basements.”

Ben’s heart quickened. “What sort of complaining?”

“Noises, mainly,” the lady said. “Things being moved. Smells. I don’t think any of them have had the courage to investigate. Your timing might be perfect.”

“Let’s hope so,” Ben said. “Thank you very much, that’s very helpful.”

“It’s the very least I can do,” the mother said. With one last effusive thank you, she left at a pace that suggested she was eager to get off the street,
and Ben didn’t blame her.

He turned his attention to the three houses, hands on hips. Helping the mother had proved to be a stroke of good fortune. Instead of a whole neighbourhood
to search, he was already down to three houses. Ben glanced at his watch – 2:45pm, which gave him just over an hour to try to locate and capture the German
kobold. Ignoring the urge to hurry, he began circling each of the houses, focusing his attention on the foundations and concentrating on the smell. It took
a dozen passes, but the subtle scratches and crumble of cement on the corner house left Ben in little doubt that he had his most likely candidate. To top
it off, the smell of ketchup was definitely stronger.

Ben attempted to tidy himself up, momentarily regretting not allowing the mother to indulge him with a few more of those baby wipes. He did as best he could,
making sure there was no blood showing and grimacing while he scraped off the last little bits of red on his arms. There wasn’t much he could do about the
raw scratches, except cover them up as best he could.

Ben climbed the little stairs to the front door and gave a confident rap. For a moment, he thought nobody was in, but after a minute waiting impatiently, a
chubby lady with rosy red cheeks opened the door.

“Hello?” she said in a crisp voice that was perhaps a little more defensive than Ben might have expected.

Ben put on his most relaxed smile. “Hi there. My name is Ben Greenwood – I work at the Institute. I understand you’ve been having some problems with an
Unseen in your basement? I’m here to help.”

It was a long shot, but Ben went direct. He didn’t have time to come up with an alternative plan. Fortunately, the lady’s suspicious glance quickly gave
way to an agreeing nod.

“Aye, I have,” she said. “Just these last two days.”

She beckoned him in. Ben waited politely in the hallway while the woman shut and then, to his surprise, bolted the door.

“This way,” she said, directing him straight to a narrow flight of stairs that went both up and down. Now that they were safely inside the house, the lady
gave him a more thorough look, noting the two flashing diamonds over his shoulder.

“You are an apprentice?” she asked.

“I am.”

Ben was expecting some disgruntlement, but instead she just shrugged. “Better than nothing. The Institute is so busy these days that I never thought I’d
get any help at all. Do you know what you’re doing? I don’t want my house destroyed.”

Confidence, that was key. The lady needed reassuring, and he didn’t blame her. Ben, after all, was a barely sixteen-year-old apprentice, who probably
looked a little worse for wear.

“I believe you have a German kobold in your basement,” Ben said, placing his hands authoritatively behind his back. “They can be troublesome and are best
removed as quickly as possible, before they decide to domesticate the place.”

The lady paled. “I had a feeling from the smell that it was a kobold. How bad are German ones?”

“They can be dangerous, if not dealt with properly,” Ben said diplomatically. “However, I have everything at hand, and should have the matter wrapped up in
less than an hour.”

“Are you sure?” the lady said, looking at him doubtfully.

No, I’m completely winging it
, Ben wanted to say.
I’ve never tackled a German kobold before, and I’m exhausted from fighting that Ferral dog
. Instead, he smiled.