The Shadowseeker - Victor Kloss Page 0,88

a series of blistering attacks, which incredibly Dagmar managed to parry, though Ben could tell from the strain on her face that she wouldn't last long.

Ben needed to act. Now. The thought that he might be ineffectual only briefly flitted through his mind. He flew down the cliff, ignoring the scrapes and cuts on the way, and jumped the last ten feet. Dagmar and the Shadowseeker were so engaged in combat they didn't notice his heavy landing. He dipped into his pocket, feeling for the last few remaining spells from his dad's pouch. The choice was limited, but he didn't need anything spectacular. He pulled out a white pellet, closed his eyes, and threw it hard onto the stone floor.

The flash of light was so powerful it made his eyes hurt even when shut. He heard Dagmar and the Shadowseeker cry out. Ben knew he had only seconds. He opened his eyes just a fraction and ran past the Shadowseeker so that he was standing side by side with Dagmar, the two of them now blocking the tunnel. He made it just in time; both Dagmar and the Shadowseeker were already recovering.

The Shadowseeker looked similar to the one he'd seen at Croydon HQ, but somehow darker, deadlier and bigger. He was bald and his face was filled with gold piercings. His eyes glowed purple.

“Ben Greenwood,” the Shadowseeker said, in a deep, resonant voice that instantly reminded Ben of someone, though he couldn't think who. “I was wondering when you would turn up.”

“Greenwood?” Dagmar, by contrast, clearly hadn't expected to see him. Her eyebrows threatened to jump off her head, and her haggard look was momentarily replaced with complete astonishment.

“Ms. Borovich, what are you doing here?” Ben asked, his eyes trained on the Shadowseeker.

“Never mind that. What are you doing here?” Dagmar asked. She seemed unable to compute that Ben was really standing next to her. “You need to leave, now. I will distract him.”

“Oh, nobody is going anywhere,” the Shadowseeker said, in an almost casual tone. There was something really familiar about his arrogance, and calm, confident voice.

“Have we met before?” Ben asked. He wasn't expecting an answer, but it gave him time to think. It must be twelve o'clock now, just minutes from the perfect time to approach the forreck.

“Your powers of observation are marginally better than most humans,” the Shadowseeker said. He seemed in no hurry – was he also waiting to get past the forreck?

“We have met several times, most recently at the Floating Prison, when I was trying to capture your parents. I failed and was summarily punished so severely that my previous body was no longer fit for living. But His Royal Highness, the prince, was kind enough to give me another chance, and here I am, in a functional, if somewhat inferior body to my last one.”

Ben felt the blood drain from his face. “Elessar?”

“Good,” Elessar said. “Now, as you are probably aware, time is pressing. It is almost time to pick up what I came for, which means I need you out the way.”

“Move!” Dagmar ordered, but Ben ignored her.

Elessar raised a hand and fired a bolt of purple fire. Dagmar returned the fire and the two balls of energy met and exploded in mid-air. Elessar immediately fired another, this one a swirling boomerang-like object, and again Dagmar blocked, with a similar spell. This continued faster than Ben could track, with Elessar firing and Dagmar blocking. Each time, Elessar's spell managed to get closer to Dagmar before being repelled, and her face looked increasingly strained. Ben watched helplessly and fumbled in his pocket for a spell. But before he could begin to decide what to use, Elessar unleashed a diamond-like bullet that Dagmar couldn't get to in time. It hit her square in the chest and knocked her back into the stone wall. She slumped to the ground, groaning.

“Your turn, Ben Greenwood,” Elessar said, with an oily smile that looked terrifying with his glowing purple eyes. “Don't worry, I remember how you deflected my spells in the past. We'll go for the more traditional method.”

Elessar raised his sword and advanced, almost casually.

Ben knew without checking his pouch that there was only one spell that could help him. It was a spell he had been saving for just this sort of occasion. He pulled it from his pouch and squeezed the pellet against his hand. A blue-tinted sword materialised in his hand. This was no useless wooden stick like the spell he had cast