The Silver Dwarf (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 4) (37 page)

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.”

“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.”

Ben wanted to raise his arm and cheer in exultation. Instead, he settled for a highly suppressed smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Krobeg gave a little glance around, noting that other than Charlie and Natalie, who were listening avidly, the rest of the arcane dwarves had their
attention on the forest.

“So, tell me, what’s the plan? I hear you’re the man for plans.”

Ben wasn’t sure how long he and Krobeg spoke, but his conversation was so involved that he barely noticed when the forest cleared, revealing an old,
seldom-used Dragonway station by the beach. He only vaguely remembered boarding the train or the journey home.

“Give me a week,” Krobeg said, as he stepped out of the carriage upon arriving at the London Dragonway. “There are some things I need to work out with the
tavern.”

Ben gave him a smile. “Oh, I think we’ll need more than a week. We still have to find two more pieces of armour, remember?”

Ben’s alarm had never sounded so cruel at seven-thirty the following morning, and his initial reaction was to throw the thing onto the floor, with the hope
of permanent damage. But something stayed his hand, a vague thought at the back of his head, telling him that he needed to get up.

Guardian? Check, job done. Breastplate? Done.

So why wasn’t he going back to sleep? One late morning wouldn’t kill him at the Institute. Dagmar, of all people, would understand.

Ben’s eyes shot open, his heart attempting to jump out of bed without him.

The Chief Three election.

Ben sat up, suddenly wide awake. The result would have been announced yesterday afternoon. He was supposed to have spent yesterday morning garnering the
last few votes. Not only had he missed that, but he’d missed the entire announcement.

Ben flew out of bed, and was out the door in five minutes flat, ringing Charlie on his way to the Dragonway.

“I only needed three more votes,” Ben said, as they boarded the carriage to Taecia.

“I know,” Charlie said. His face was glum, and he held on to the protective bars a little too tightly. “But you weren’t there yesterday morning, which was
probably the most important time. I can only imagine how Aaron would have taken advantage of that.”

It was almost too horrible to think about. Aaron would have had open rein on any number of insults and lies as to why Ben hadn’t turned up that morning,
and there was nothing his team could have said in response.

But, despite all logic, Ben refused to believe the election had been a forgone conclusion. Those three votes could have gone either way; anything could
have happened. William was a very persuasive character – perhaps he had pulled off something incredible.

As he and Charlie climbed the hill to the Institute, Ben realised he needed to come up with a semi-plausible excuse for yesterday’s absence. The best he could think of was illness, but how would that explain Charlie and Natalie’s disappearance? Some freak contagious bug? Ben sighed. It was so pathetic he wasn’t
even sure he could bring himself to say it. Part of him wished he could just hide in a hole for a week, until the whole thing blew over. No, that was
wrong. He needed to deal with this head on, even if it meant getting pounded for a day or two.

Ben grit his teeth, and kept an eye out for a third-grader. It didn’t matter who; he just needed to find out what happened so he could prepare himself.

They made it all the way to the entrance, before Ben spotted someone who would know the results.

“Uh oh,” Charlie said. “Should we find someone else?”

“No,” Ben said, and increased his pace.

The moment Simon turned and scowled at him, Ben knew that the outcome wasn’t good.

“Oh, you decided to turn up,” Simon said. Ben had never thought he would care about Simon’s opinion, but the disgust in Simon’s voice hurt.

“Yes, I did. I’m so sorry, Simon,” Ben said. “What happened?”

Simon gave a scornful laugh. “What do you think happened? Without you, we had no chance. We were supposed to be electing you, remember? Bit pointless if
you’re not even there.”

Ben suddenly felt light-headed, and his voice came out a whisper. “How much did we lose by?”

“Five votes.” Simon shook his head, and even managed a weird laugh. “Aaron is the new Chief Three. And I’ll tell you what, he hates me, but he hates you
more, so good luck with that.”

Simon turned and headed up the stairs, before Ben could think of a suitable reply. He turned to a grim-faced Charlie, who was at a loss for words for once.

“Ben!”

Natalie came darting through the entrance. Ben was vaguely aware that somehow she looked close to perfect again, the nasty bruise on her forehead almost
gone. But her hair swung wildly, and her gasping breath made it clear she had been running.

“I just heard as I was coming off the Dragonway,” she said. “I can’t believe I had completely forgotten about the election. That bump to the head must have
affected me worse than I thought.”

Natalie’s energy was a stark contrast to the dull apathy Ben was feeling. “You heard the result, then?”

“Yes, I heard,” Natalie said. She frowned at him. “You can’t beat yourself up over it. There was nothing you could have done.”

“I could have turned up yesterday,” Ben said, feeling slightly sour. “I think I could have made a difference.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Natalie said angrily. The three of them started a slow ascent up the stairs, to the apprentice floor. “We made the right decision.
The election was less important, you know that. It was just unfortunate the timing was so horrible.”

Ben knew Natalie was right, but right now it didn’t help much. He could feel the eyes of every third-grader on him as they entered the muster room. He felt
like staring at the floor, but he forced himself to meet their gazes, as much as it hurt. He managed to keep his composure, though he almost lost it when
Aaron strode into the room, moments before nine o’clock. Ben could see now that one of Aaron’s colourless diamonds had a small glow round it, indicating
his new position as Chief Three. Ben wished then that Aaron would give him some provocation he could react to, but Aaron glided serenely to his position as
head of the third-graders in the line-up, with nothing more than a faint smile. Ben ground his teeth but kept his cool, though it was probably a good thing
that Dagmar came in just moments later.

Ben was eager to get out of muster as soon as possible. He could feel the attention on him, and it wasn’t pleasant. He just wanted to throw himself back
into the apprenticeship, and put the painful incident of the Chief Three election behind him. But to his frustration, Dagmar had other ideas.