The Heart of Fire (16 page)

You find little else of interest amongst the other books and scrolls. You may now examine the parchment on the table (turn to
362
) or leave the
room via the iron door (turn to
46
).

82

‘What’s there to know about Carvel, dearie?’ The woman frowns, screwing up her face. ‘It’s the end of the road – the cross on the map
– for those looking for some place better. Allam was the first, a prophet and a king’s son. Brought the whole army here on some holy crusade. Well, he pops his clogs and now look what
we got,’ she nods to her boisterous clientele, who are currently singing a bawdy song about a barmaid and a saint. ‘I followed one of them here; a simple man with dreams of making a new
start. He didn’t find what he was looking for, but I did.’ She lifts up her hands, gesturing to her surroundings. ‘I suppose love got me something worthwhile, in the
end.’

Return to
52
to ask the bar woman another question.

83

You drop the bark shavings into the mixture and stir it around with one of the spoons. To your surprise the bark quickly dissolves into the liquid, giving off a
pungent-smelling steam. As you continue to observe your creation, the mixture starts to change colour – going from green to brown, then to a bright golden-yellow. You hold it up, marvelling
at the shimmering magic that seems to dance around the bottle. Could this be the cure? It certainly looks like you have created a powerful elixir of some description. You must now take:

With your work in the laboratory complete, you hurry back to the church. Turn to
372
.

84

The statue shows a young man in his early twenties, dressed in long decorative robes. In his right hand he holds a staff; in the other a book. A marble plaque at the foot of
the statue reads:

Saint Allam Medes

Third blood of King Gerard I

Pray for the soul of the prophet.

By his will and faith

the One God’s light was brought to the west.

One of the guards steps forward, his hand tightening around his sword grip. ‘Not too close, stranger. No one touches the statue.’ He scowls at the rows of pilgrims that are kneeling
in prayer. ‘Someone tried to deface it last week. A Wiccan disguised as a pilgrim. Trust no one.’ He glares at you intently, until you move away from the statue.

Turn to
77
to continue your exploration of upper town.

85

You have chosen the path of the rogue. You may permanently increase your
health
by 5 (to 35). Make a note of this change on your hero sheet. Then turn to
182
.

86

You smash through the shield, severing the shadow warrior cleanly in two. As you stagger back, breathing hard from the fight, you hear the voice once again in your ear.

‘The Wiccan will endure. Our legacy will live on.’

The shadows wind their way across the stony ground. When they reach the far wall they creep up the cracked stonework, forming a doorway of midnight black.

‘Your head is full of stones,’ hisses the voice. ‘Fill it with memory.’

You take a step towards the door. Suddenly the torches go out, throwing the room into freezing darkness. A second later they reignite, their blue radiance falling on a vast array of treasures.
Somehow you have been transported to an ancient vault, beneath the hill.

There is the sound of grating, squealing rock. You turn around to see a short passageway, leading up to a circle of daylight . . . but, alarmingly, you see that the circle is growing smaller,
threatening to trap you here forever. You realise that you have mere seconds to grab what you can from the Wiccan warrior’s tomb.

To your left is a pile of weapons and armour. To your right is a long oak chest, inlaid with runes of iron.

87

You emerge in a huge cavern, brightly lit by luminous mushrooms growing along the walls. It is hard to get a sense of scale, even with the light – the ceiling is lost
from view, somewhere in the chill darkness above. The wind provides the only sound in this vast space, making an eerie moaning sound as it whistles between the rocks and channels.

Warily, the party progresses across the cavern. After a hundred metres you hear Surl making a disgusted grunt. His foot is caught in something green and sticky. As he tugs his foot loose, he
pokes at the slime with his sword.

‘What’s this? he sniffs. ‘Hey, we got some goblin snot!’

‘Shut it,’ growls the captain, eyeing his surroundings warily. ‘I heard something . . .’

Everyone is silent, turning slowly on the spot. For a moment all you can hear is the murmur of the wind, then you hear something else – a skittering, metallic sound. It is hard to make out
where it is coming from. Slowly, your eyes are drawn upwards, towards the dark ceiling . . .

Then you hear a cry from behind you. Spinning around, you manage to catch sight of the young mage being dragged into the air, kicking and flailing. He is lost from sight in seconds.

‘What is it?’ shouts Vas, falling into a crouch. ‘I don’t see—’

There is another scream, as one of the party is hit by something – it looks like a stream of green sticky goo. They are slammed back onto the ground. Then another streaks out of the dark,
hitting the unfortunate mercenary and yanking them off their feet. You are about to run to their aid . . . then all hell breaks loose.

From above you, more gooey threads rain down from the dark. Several hit members of the group, who barely have time to register their shock before being tugged upwards by some powerful force.

‘Move it!’ bellows the captain. He raises his shield just in time to block one of the sticky strands. It splats across the face of the shield, which is ripped from his grasp and goes
hurtling back up into the darkness. ‘Give us some covering fire. Artillery!’

He races forward, the others following, while one of the remaining mages hurls a blazing ball of fire across the cavern. As the flames arch overhead, they illuminate the ceiling of the cave for
the briefest of moments – and there, scuttling over the dark rock, is a swarm of giant insects.

‘Ants!’ shouts Surl. ‘Bloomin’ ants! Run!’

To dodge the gooey missiles you will need to take a
speed
challenge:

If you are successful, turn to
186
. If you fail the
speed
challenge, turn to
281
.

88

You hand over the
household spirit
, much to Anna’s delight. ‘Oh, this is wonderful!’ she gasps, clutching it tightly to her cheek. ‘Oh, I never
thought my dear twins would be reunited. Here, take one of my special remedies as a reward for your kindness!’

You may now choose one of the following:

(You can now remove the
household spirit
from your hero sheet.) If you wish to view Anna’s other wares, turn to
120
. Otherwise, you may now leave the
shop and head to upper town (turn to
77
) or to lower town (turn to
36
).

89

The woman stiffens at your question, looking personally insulted. Polk quickly intercedes. ‘A fair question,’ he proffers, nodding his head. ‘Why would you
risk your life for us? I asked
you
because you don’t look like a mercenary lap dog. All of them out there,’ he waves a thumb at the bustling taproom, ‘got more space in
their heads than a beggar’s bank vault. You see, when we’re talking the shroud,’ he drops his voice to almost a whisper, ‘we’re talking treasure. Rare magic. Things
you can sell on for a pretty penny or two.’ His eyes flick to Joss. ‘And sure, we’re doing a good deed too.’

‘But why not hire a whole band of mercenaries?’ You frown, bunching your shoulders. ‘Pay them for their muscle, not their wits.’

Polk glances at Anse – the two warriors share a knowing smile. ‘And I thought you was bright, kid. Look, mercenaries talk. Once word got out that a tower – that’s been
missing for forty years – suddenly shows back up . . . every treasure hunter and thief in Valeron will be descending on it like flies on a meat wagon. And what’s more, the inquisitors
will soon have that place locked down when they get wind of it. So we have a narrow window of opportunity, see, get what I’m saying?’

90

‘We are here to train the wayward flock,’ he grins, showing off the gemstones embedded in his teeth. ‘Old magic and the Church – it’s an uneasy
alliance we have.
They
favour the magic of the one – the magic that comes from within.’ He prods your chest with a finger, then grimaces as he wipes his hand on his coat.
‘But our magic comes from the elements; from the shroud.’

Malak’s head lolls to one side, his eyes half-closed. ‘You test my patience. Such things can be learnt from a book; go find a library and appease your ignorance there.’