Chapter Three

Ben clumped down the steps, shrugging off the darkness. Paradise stuck close behind him, her footsteps soft and silent on the stones. What little light had seeped in through the door had long since faded, and Ben was beginning to wonder just how deep underground they were going.

“Almost there,” called Tavish, as if reading his mind. Up ahead, a flame burst into life as the blacksmith lit a torch on the wall.

The flickering torchlight cast an eerie glow across the basement. Actually, “basement” was too generous a description. It was really little more than a deep hole in the ground. Worms wriggled in the dirt walls, and roots tangled across the floor. Bugs skittered away from the glow of the torch, and Ben had to fight to stop himself shuddering. Monsters he could handle, but creepy-crawlies were another matter entirely. He fixed his gaze on Tavish and did his best to ignore the scuttling bugs all around him.

“I can’t believe this has been down here the whole time,” he said.

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” Paradise added, her voice muffled by her hand over her mouth. “The smell is a nice touch.”

A flicker of a frown crossed Tavish’s face. “Oh, does it smell? Sorry, I can’t tell. My nose is made almost entirely out of wood.” He tapped one nostril. It made a hollow thonk sound. “War wound. Got too close to a pan of Brussels sprouts.”

“So,” began Ben. “This sword, then…”

“Yes, yes of course,” said Tavish. He led them over to the far corner of the basement where there was a large boulder with a piece of cloth draped over it. A wooden chest stood beside the rock, its hinges pitted with rust.

Tavish took hold of the cloth. Before he lifted it away, he took a deep breath and fixed Ben with a solemn stare. “You know that I found you in the wreckage of a wagon as a baby.”

“Yes,” Ben said.

“You know I adopted you and raised you as my own.”

“Yep.”

“You know I said I didn’t know what happened to your parents.”

Ben nodded.

“That last part wasn’t strictly true. Over the years I’ve been able to … piece some bits together.”

“Whoa, wait,” said Ben, eyeing up the cloth. “That’s not going to be their heads under there, is it?”

“It had better not be,” spluttered Paradise.

“Because if you whip that off and there’s a couple of heads looking up at me I’m not going to be happy.”

“Of course it’s not their heads!” Tavish cried.

“I’ll be sick if it is,” Paradise warned. “I’ll be sick right over your shoes.”

“It’s nobody’s head!”

“Or, like, a leg,” Ben continued. “Just a horrible bit of leg all stitched together and rotting and…”

“Information!” Tavish said. “I’ve been able to piece some bits of information together.”

“Oh,” said Ben. He cleared his throat. “Carry on.”

“From what I can gather, something attacked the wagon carrying you and your parents, Benjamin. Something big. Something strong. I believe your parents were … taken. But you were left behind. You, and this.”

He lifted the cloth away, revealing the ornately decorated handle of a sword. A carving of a frightening clawed creature adorned the hilt. The sword’s blade was embedded deep into the rock itself, with only a few centimetres visible between the handle and the stone.

“I’ve had the carving analysed,” Tavish said. “It appears to be the emblem of the Monster Hunter Guild.”

“There’s no such guild,” said Paradise.

Tavish gave a slow nod. “Not now. Not in a long time.”

Ben felt like the whole basement was spinning and might come caving in on him at any moment. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“They were monster hunters?” he gasped. “My parents were monster hunters?”

“It appears so,” Tavish said. “I don’t know how the sword got into the stone, but no one has been able to get it out since.” He waved his robotic arm. “Even with this thing, it won’t budge. Magic, you see?”

He fished in his pocket and pulled out a small rectangular box. He gave it a shake and pointed one of the box’s narrow ends towards the sword handle. After a moment, the end of the box folded open. A little wooden bird popped out on a spring, went, “Bloop,” then popped back in again.

Ben blinked. “What was that?”

“I call it the Automated Magic Detecting Device,” Tavish said. “A single bloop means it has detected magic. Two bloops means it has detected vast quantities of magic.”

“What if it gave three bloops?” asked Paradise. “What would that mean?”

Tavish thought for a moment. “That would mean that raw magical energy was about to tear the very fabric of the universe apart,” he said. “Or that the batteries needed changing.”

Paradise frowned. “What are batteries?”

Tavish waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, just a little something I invented. I doubt they’ll catch on.”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“I … I don’t really know,” Tavish admitted. “The Soothsayer High Council told me a day would come when you would be summoned. When you would be called to your destiny.” His eyes went to Paradise. “By a damsel in distress. I just … I wanted to keep you safe until that day came.”

“Who are you calling a damsel in distress?” asked Paradise.

“You’ve spoken to the Soothsayer High Council?” Ben said. He could hardly believe it. The Soothsayer High Council was a group of wise men and women who could tell the future. They travelled around the country, revealing the destinies of those brave enough to ask. Ben had seen them a few times, but he had never worked up the courage to approach them because they were all a bit on the strange side, and they smelled quite strongly of cabbage.

Ben looked at the handle of the sword poking up out of the stone. “So this is mine?”

“I think so, yes,” said Tavish. “The council believes it can be freed only by the right person at the right time. By you, Benjamin. Now.”

A hush fell across the basement as Ben took a step closer to the boulder. He looked back, first at Paradise, then at Tavish. “Here goes,” he said.

Taking a deep breath, Ben reached out and wrapped his fingers around the sword’s handle. A tingle of magical energy tickled up his arm, making the hairs stand to attention on the back of his neck. Images of battles and stunts and high-speed wagon chases buzzed like lightning through his brain as he heaved on the sword and…

Nothing.

“Well go on, then,” said Paradise. “We haven’t got all day.”

Ben pulled again. “It won’t budge.”

“Try putting your foot on that bit,” urged Tavish, pointing to a flat part of the boulder.

Ben did as he was told, then pulled until his face turned a worrying shade of purple.

“I think his head’s going to explode,” Paradise said.

With a gasp, Ben let go of the sword. Slowly, his face returned to its normal colour. “Maybe it’s not my sword,” he said.

“Maybe,” said Tavish, stroking his chin. “Or maybe it’s not your time.”

“Can you make me one then?” Ben asked.

“If the sword doesn’t think you’re ready to wield it, then who am I to argue?” Tavish said. “You can use your wooden one for now. Like you said, you’ll only be watching the other warriors, anyway, so you shouldn’t be in any danger.”

“But—”

“I haven’t raised you this long just to have you lop one of your arms off like I did,” Tavish said. “Anyway, I have something else to show you. The third and final thing I found in the wreckage of that wagon.”

The rusted hinges squeaked as he opened the lid of the chest. A metal gauntlet lay nestled within. “Pick it up,” Tavish urged.

Ben reached in and took the gauntlet. Its surface shone like polished silver. The glove was big and bulky, but as he slipped his right hand inside, it seemed to shrink to fit him perfectly. He balled his fingers into a fist, and suddenly felt like he could punch through solid rock.

“According to the Automated Magic Detecting Device, that gauntlet’s a double blooper,” Tavish said, his voice a hushed whisper. “I have no idea what it does, but in all my days I’ve never come across an item so packed with pure magical power.”

“Where’s the other one?” asked Paradise. “Gloves usually come in pairs.”

Tavish shook his head. “There was only this one,” he said, then he stared past the children, as if looking back through the mists of time itself. “My studies of this gauntlet began long, long ago, when you were just—”

“That’s a lovely story,” interrupted Paradise. “Really. Fascinating. But there’s a great big monster ripping up my village, remember?”

“Oh yes, good point,” said Tavish. He turned to the boy and tried his best to smile, but tears formed at the corners of his eyes. “Then it’s time, Ben,” he said, spoiling the moment a bit by loudly blowing his nose on his sleeve. “It’s time to face your destiny.”