time during the duel with Elessar. He wanted to wipe the sweat from his brow, but was afraid that any sudden movement might trigger the forreck into action.
“What should I do?” Ben asked, with forced calm.
“Don't move,” Dagmar said. “Even if it comes towards you.”
Even as Dagmar spoke, the forreck started a slow walk towards Ben. Its expression had changed, its green eyes narrowed.
“Uh oh,” Ben said, resisting the overwhelming urge to run. “You want me to stand here while this killing machine eats me?”
“If it wants to eat you, running won't help,” Dagmar said, her voice characteristically calm.
“So what can I do?”
“Nothing. You can do nothing against a forreck. Just stay still.”
The forreck walked like a natural hunter, confident and unhurried. With every step it took, Ben's panic grew, until the forreck was almost within spitting distance.
“I'm not going to stand here while it bloody eats me,” he said, his voice rising. Whatever Dagmar said, if the forreck attacked, Ben was going to run like hell.
“George!”
Dagmar's voice rang out with its accustomed authority, and Ben immediately looked around for the newcomer, but there was nobody about.
“George,” Dagmar said again. “This is your master speaking. Come to me.”
Ben could feel the forreck's breath on his face. He stood so still he was fairly certain even his heart had stopped. The forreck turned, almost lazily, towards Dagmar. For a full minute it kept flicking its gaze between the two of them. If Ben didn't know better, he would say the forreck was thinking, weighing his options. Eventually the forreck seemed to come to a decision and walked slowly over to Dagmar. Ben almost collapsed with relief, but his respite was temporary, as Dagmar was now in danger. The forreck stopped right in front of Dagmar, who Ben noticed was shaking just a fraction.
“I am your rightful owner,” Dagmar said, somehow keeping her voice level despite the proximity of the forreck. “I am the descendent of the Lady Charlotte Rowe. You are in the company of allies, not enemies. Be at rest.”
There was an eerie silence, as Dagmar and George, the forreck, faced off. The forreck gave a nod so subtle Ben might have imagined it, before curling himself up by Dagmar's feet. Dagmar reached out a hand and stroked George's forehead. He responded with a deep purring noise that sounded like a Ferrari in neutral.
“We're safe,” Dagmar announced. She looked visibly shaken, but recovered quickly, a feat made all the more impressive given her physical state.
Ben walked slowly to the forreck. He wanted to pat George but had a change of heart when George turned his green eyes Ben's way.
“So much for Lornor's data about the solar eclipse.”
“Actually, he was right,” Dagmar said, her hand still on the forreck's forehead. “Had it not been a solar eclipse, George would have killed us before I had time to call him to heel.” She motioned to Ben. “Come on, let's finish this.”
Ben was still full of questions, but he followed Dagmar through the small tunnel. It was dark, but not long and they soon emerged into a magnificent cave that even rendered Dagmar speechless. It was domed, with a spectacular ceiling painted with an intricacy worthy of a grand church. The walls were incredibly smooth and looked as though they were made of marble, and the floor had been lovingly cobbled. In the centre of the room was a pedestal, and on top of it were Elizabeth's Boots. Crafted of silver, they looked as if they had just come from the forge and not as though they had been sitting underground for the past five hundred years.
Ben and Dagmar both stared at the boots, lost in wonder.
“Now what?” Ben asked in a soft voice.
“The boots are no longer safe here. I will need to move them elsewhere.”
Ben got the feeling she had somewhere in mind, but felt now wasn't the time to ask. “Do you think George will be okay with that?”
Dagmar glanced at the forreck, who had followed them in.
“Yes, he has accepted me. I can feel it.”
Dagmar walked slowly up to the pedestal and almost reverentially picked the boots up. George watched with interest, but made no move to intervene.
“They are both light and yet feel stronger than steel,” Dagmar said. She stared at the boots, deep in thought. “I've put this off for too long.”
Ben watched in surprise as Dagmar took her own shoes off and put the boots on. At first glance they looked a poor fit for Dagmar's