The Silver Dwarf (Royal Institute of Magic, Book 4) (33 page)

That did the trick, as Ben hoped it would. The mention of Dagmar’s name made the dwarf take a step back, and the guards parted.

“I have to inform you that, as foreigners, you are not our responsibility. You are aware of the Shadowseekers presently at large?”

“Yes, we are,” Ben said.

The dwarf nodded. “Very well. Move along.”

Chocolate Street was almost deserted. Only a few brave children with their parents were about, and even they ran from shop to shop. The smell was still
remarkable, but not quite as strong as before, and Ben spotted more than one shop closed. That theme continued beyond Chocolate Street, and into the main
centre of Drinkmorr. Those who ventured out did so in twos and threes, and there were many a furtive glance. Ben spotted several groups of Drinkmorr
guards, but even their stern faces were etched with anxiety. Ben could well understand why. The Shadowseekers were deadly, and could appear from nowhere.

Ben’s own anxiety was not for himself, but for Krobeg. If the Shadowseekers spotted his tavern, and the sign, he would be as good as dead. The thought made
him quicken his pace, and place a reassuring hand on his spellshooter.

Ben half-expected a scene of destruction when he spotted the tavern, and let out a sigh of relief when they found it untouched. Unlike several taverns he’d
passed, Krobeg’s was still open and, amazingly, still doing business. Was that down to Krobeg’s bravery, stubbornness, or simply a belief that the
Shadowseekers would have no reason to pay him a visit? Ben sincerely hoped it wasn’t the last option, as it would make their job of convincing him even
harder.

“Look at the sign!” Natalie said, pointing up at the tavern’s signage.

The lettering “Royal Goose” was there, just as before, but the symbol representing the Silver Dwarf had vanished.

“He’s taken it down,” Charlie said, staring up at the sign.

Ben smiled with unexpected hope. “You know what that means? He listened to our warning.”

Natalie gave an excited clap, but Charlie wasn’t convinced, and continued to stare at the signage thoughtfully. Ben wasn’t in the mood for whatever
pessimistic thought was going through Charlie’s head. He entered the tavern, and nearly ran right into a couple of patrons leaving. When his eyes adjusted
to the dim light, he saw that it was almost as busy as before. The bar had a few empty seats, but the restaurant was jammed, and the smell of bacon and
sausages filled the air, stimulating Ben’s taste buds.

“Do we have time for another breakfast?” Charlie asked.

“No,” Natalie said firmly.

Ben eyed up the kitchen door. “I bet he’s cooking.”

Charlie nodded. “I agree. We should probably wait until he’s done. Might as well get a quick bite to eat while we wait, no?”

“No,” Ben said. He eyed up a passing waitress and quickly moved forwards, tapping her on the shoulder. “Excuse me, we need to speak to Krobeg.”

The lady gave him a surprised look. “Krobeg? I’m sorry, sir, he’s busy in the kitchen, and cannot be disturbed until breakfast has finished.”

“It’s urgent,” Ben said, giving the waitress a serious look. “I’m sorry, we cannot wait. Tell him it’s about the dark elves.”

Ben clearly said the right thing, for the waitress gave a hurried nod, and dashed off into the kitchen.

Ben, Charlie and Natalie watched the kitchen door intently, waiting for Krobeg to emerge.

“What are we going to say?” Charlie asked.

“I’ve got an idea,” Ben said. “Whatever happens this time, we cannot leave without him.”

“Don’t be too rough, Ben,” Natalie said, giving Ben an anxious look. “And please don’t mention his father, as he clearly has issues with him.”

Ben didn’t have time to reply, for Krobeg, all two hundred pounds of him, came through the door, his eyes searching the tavern. He frowned the moment he
spotted them, but Ben took heart in the fact that Krobeg’s face didn’t go red and explode.

“I had a feeling I’d be seeing you again,” Krobeg said.

“You know why we’re here.”

Krobeg glanced at the dining room – a habit perhaps, making sure everything was okay – before turning back to them.

“Come with me,” he said, giving them a wave.

Krobeg led them back into the small private staff room where they had their explosive meeting just a few days ago. This time they remained standing. Krobeg
stroked his short, ginger beard, his eyes momentarily distant. While he was considering what to say, Ben decided to jump in.

“You took down the symbol,” he said.

“What? Oh yes. A precaution, just in case.”

Ben pressed on, sensing an opportunity. “Which means you must have believed at least some of what we said.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Krobeg said. His voice was stern, but without malice. “You come and say the dark elves are looking for me, and then Shadowseekers break
in to Drinkmorr. They may have nothing to do with me, but if there was any truth in your story, it made sense to take the sign down, for now.”

“So, where does this leave us?” Ben asked, keeping his voice soft, making sure there was no unnecessary accusation.

Krobeg gave a subtle, disbelieving shake of his head. “I have spent many hours thinking about your story. I admit that some of it rings true. I know my
father originally came from Jimba, and many of the stories of the Silver Dwarf state he also lived there. I never knew my grandfather; my father rarely
spoke of him. I got the feeling that he and my father had a falling out.” Krobeg gave a rueful smile. “It must run in the family.”

Krobeg paused, clearly considering his words. Ben made no move to hurry him.

“As much as I dislike my father, there is no doubting that he is a great mage. If the Silver Dwarf really did exist, I can imagine my father being the sort
of person who might have been his son.”

Krobeg stopped, and Ben had to resist the urge to do a fist pump. Instead, he stayed calm, and asked, “So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is me,” Krobeg said with a sudden ironic laugh, patting his enormous stomach. “Look at me. I’m just a chef, not a Guardian. The idea that I
might be responsible for defeating Suktar is utterly ridiculous.”

“I thought the same thing,” Ben said with a faint smile. “Your credential is simple – you are the son of your father. That’s how it works. I know it’s
crazy, but it’s true. We have found other Guardians and their pieces of armour. We have never been wrong.”

Krobeg rubbed his stomach absentmindedly, and Ben could almost see the cogs turning inside his head. He might be a slow thinker, but he wasn’t stupid – far
from it.

“What proof do you have?” Krobeg said eventually. “Your stories are well told, but they are just that: stories – unless you can back them up with
evidence.”

“How about the Shadowseekers?” Natalie said, her voice soft. “They are here for you.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Krobeg said.

Proof. It wasn’t the first time they had been asked that question, and Ben wished they had something more tangible. A piece of the armour would do, but it
was far too risky parading Elizabeth’s Armour in public. If only he had the sword; he was sure that would do the trick. But he didn’t, and he wasn’t even
sure where it was.

“You’re going to have to trust us,” Ben said. He put all his reason and intention behind his voice. “Why would we travel all this way to tell you some
nonsense story? Why would we risk coming back into Drinkmorr with Shadowseekers present? If you come with us back to the Institute, we can prove our story,
but not here.”

Ben watched Krobeg closely. He was fighting with the idea, but Ben had the horrible feeling it was a losing battle. The words of Krobeg’s father rang again
in his ears.
Krobeg isn’t like you. Even in the brief time we have been together, I can tell you have the qualities a Guardian needs. My son does not.
Ben could
see where Krobeg’s father was coming from, but Ben suspected a hidden strength within Krobeg – if only it would come out. After all, he was the grandson of
the Silver Dwarf, one of the greatest legends in dwarf history.

Krobeg shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, I just can’t—”

His words were cut off by a scream – multiple screams – making them all jump. Krobeg reacted first, turning and almost yanking the door off its hinges. Ben
dashed after him, Natalie and Charlie right behind. Krobeg flew down the corridor, like a bowling ball out of control, crashing into the walls, and
knocking off a couple of frames.

Ben followed Krobeg back into the bar, and entered a scene of chaos. Dozens of patrons were flooding out the door. A few of the hardier ones remained with
weapons drawn. Many of the staff were looking anxiously out the window. Krobeg grabbed a meat cleaver and thundered through the front door. Ben, Charlie
and Natalie followed right behind.

Dwarves, humans, and several other races were fleeing down the street, many taking frightened backward glances. A dozen Drinkmorr guards had formed a
blockade, axes drawn.

Krobeg marched up to the guard in the middle, who was clearly the leader. “What’s going on?”

The guard turned, his stern expression relaxing a fraction when he saw the giant chef. “Shadowseekers spotted, at least two, heading this way. No place for
a cleaver, Krobeg. Get back into your tavern and lock the doors or get out of here. Unless you want to get your axe and help us? We could use it.”

Ben was taken aback by the hopeful expression on the guard’s face. Krobeg, however, turned towards Ben, his face intense.

“I need answers, and I need them now,” Krobeg said, sticking a huge sausage finger at Ben. “Is everything you say true? Because if there is even a doubt of
uncertainty, I’m staying here and joining the guards.”

“It’s all true,” Ben said, looking Krobeg right in the eye. Krobeg glanced at his tavern, then at the line of guards, and clenched his sizeable fists. He
took a deep breath, his massive stomach heaving. “I hope I don’t regret this. Follow me.”

Before Ben could ask where they were going, Krobeg headed back into the tavern. Ben followed, exchanging confused glances with Charlie and Natalie. They
passed the main bar, and headed through another private door, which led to a narrow set of stairs that Krobeg could only just squeeze up. At the top was a
small hallway with another series of doors. Krobeg went to the end door, took a large key out, and entered, beckoning them in, before locking the door
behind them.

They found themselves in Krobeg’s living quarters, consisting of three rooms, including a predictably large kitchen, a small living space, and a bedroom,
with a bed Ben assumed was designed for a giant or a troll. Krobeg, still moving like a kid who has had too much sugar, snatched a long, wooden pole from
the corner of the room, and poked the ceiling. A wooden panel swung down, giving access to the loft above. The pole had a small hook at the end, and Krobeg
used it to grab and pull down a series of steps.

“Wait here,” Krobeg ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

Krobeg disappeared into the loft. Ben heard a rustling noise, drowning out the faint screams from outside.

“Are you both as confused as I am?” Charlie asked, as he stared up at the loft.

“He obviously needs something from up there before we leave,” Natalie said.

Sure enough, Krobeg emerged from the loft holding an incredible battle axe in one hand. The handle was wrought with intricate engravings, and the head
gleamed silver.

“What’s that?” Charlie asked.

It took Ben a moment to realise that Charlie wasn’t referring to the axe, but an item in Krobeg’s other hand.

“This,” Krobeg said, upon reaching the floor, and closing up the loft, “is a map, given to me by my father.”

It was an old folded parchment that looked so delicate it appeared ready to crumble.

“I looked at it once, many years ago, but it made no sense,” Krobeg explained. “And given the relationship with my father wasn’t exactly great, I really
wasn’t that interested. Frankly, I haven’t thought about it in years, until you came by a few days ago.”

Ben’s heart leapt up a gear, and he saw Charlie rubbing his hands with excitement, as Krobeg gently laid the map on the floor, and started unfolding it.

“My, it is old,” Natalie said, kneeling down to get a better look.

“Yes, don’t touch it, or it may crumble.”

The map was frayed at the edges, but the colours were still vivid, full of blues, greens and yellows. There was an “X” marked in the upper left corner.

“I don’t recognise any of these places,” Ben said, frowning. He immediately looked up at Charlie, who was staring so intently at the map, Ben feared his
gaze might tear a hole through it.

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Krobeg said. “And even now, many years later, I still don’t recognise anything.”

“It’s got to be somewhere in the Unseen Kingdoms,” Charlie said. “This name here ‘Trilthorp’ sounds familiar. I just need a moment to think.”

Krobeg gave an enquiring look at Ben.

“Charlie’s our encyclopaedia man,” Ben explained.

But time was something they didn’t have. A crashing noise came from downstairs, followed by screams, shouts, and clashes of steel.

“Uh oh,” Ben said.

Krobeg stood up.

“Wait!” Charlie said, trailing his finger lightly over the map. “I’m close – I know I am. Just give me a minute.”

Krobeg hesitated, grappling with his axe, his eyes darting towards the door. He was itching to go, and Ben prepared himself to block the big dwarf.

“You can’t help,” Ben said. “I’ve seen the Shadowseekers fight. The axe is not the right weapon, believe me.”

Ben thought his line of reasoning was sound, but it had the exact opposite effect. Krobeg gave Ben a grim smile.

“Not the right weapon, eh? We’ll see about that.”

Ben heard the soft sound of footsteps coming up the stairs – light and nimble. Shadowseeker footsteps.

“They’re coming!” Natalie cried.

“Good,” Krobeg said.

“No!” Charlie said, as Krobeg stepped forwards, his heavy boots crumpling the frail map.

But Krobeg’s legs didn’t destroy the map. They stepped into and through it, like a black hole. With a mighty yell of surprise, Krobeg disappeared into the
map, leaving nothing but the tattered parchment remaining.