The Heart of Fire (25 page)

‘Thank you,’ he grins, shaking your hand. ‘My name is Joseph. I’ll be waiting right here, just in case you come back.’ He flashes you a mouth full of rotted black
teeth.

You may now inspect the tapestry (turn to
181
) or leave the church (turn to
77
).

153

Despite your best efforts, you cannot move the heavy stone slab. Frustratingly, you are unable to recover the gemstones. With little else of interest in this chamber, you
decide to leave.

154

You leave the tower, following Dean Margo across the courtyard and back into the building of cells. After turning down several corridors, you find yourself entering a library.
A number of reading tables are visible in the soft glow of candlelight. Seated at one of the tables is a monk, with spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He is scratching words onto parchment,
listening intently to the figure sat opposite him: a ragged old man with streaked grey hair and dirt-stained clothing. He is rocking back and forth, wringing his hands together nervously. You
recognise him as the man at the roadside – the one that the others had been so keen to protect.

Ventus stands by the table. When he sees you, he bows his head in greeting. The dean strides over, his long robes rippling out behind him. ‘Do we have the information?’

Ventus winces, shaking his head. ‘It’s been difficult. Trying to get him to focus . . .’

The dean turns, fixing you with an unflinching gaze. ‘This man is our weapon in the war against the Wiccans.’ He points to the ragged traveller. ‘He has a unique gift –
one that will root out the truth.’

155

The wicker man is brought crashing to the ground, its rune-painted wood splintering into plumes of dark magic. Elated with your victory, you and your companion search what
remains of the strange creature.

Each hero finds 100 gold crowns and may choose one of the following rewards (heroes may choose the same reward if they wish to):

Eager to leave this bewitched hilltop, you and your companion head back into the mist-shrouded forest. There you rejoin the road to Carvel, hoping that the warmth and merriment of an inn will
ease the dark memories of this infernal night. (Return to the quest
map
to continue your adventure.)

156

‘Oh, it’s nothing to worry about,’ he says, with no hint of mockery. ‘The situation is well in—’

A man’s pained cry echoes back from the rock. There is another dull boom followed by an ear-piercing shriek. You can’t tell if the latter was human or something else.

‘What’s going on?’ you insist, craning your neck back to take in the dark, high walls of the bluff.

‘Extreme sports,’ replies the old man, holding his tea cup to his lips. A sudden tremor sends more dirt and dust pluming into the cleft. The man’s tea cup shakes in his hands,
spilling tea down his coat. ‘Oh, how bothersome,’ he grimaces, putting the cup aside to brush at the stain.

You frown, confused by the man’s actions. He doesn’t seem remotely bothered by what is happening. ‘Perhaps we should investigate,’ you urge, stepping out of the way out
of a falling rock. It is accompanied by an anguished roar and a series of hollow thuds – as if something large is beating against the ground. Each one sends a tremor through the rock walls,
rattling the porcelain tea cups on their tray.

‘Very well,’ sighs the man, pushing himself to his feet. ‘But I do assure you, my master is an expert at what he does.’

There is another wailing scream.

‘Extreme sports?’ you ask, with a quizzical frown.

‘Just a little spelunking,’ he proffers with a shrug. ‘Cave diving . . . he likes the adrenaline rush.’

Suddenly there is an almighty bang, as the side of the bluff explodes outwards, hurling rock and dust through the snow-drenched sky. Turn to
200
.

157

‘These lands are not as safe as they once were,’ says Benin, resting his staff across his shoulder. ‘May I suggest we travel together – at least for the
time being? Where are you headed?’

‘Crow Rock,’ you reply, tugging the map from your pack.

Benin’s eyes narrow suspiciously. ‘Really?’

‘You know of it?’ you ask, noting his sudden change in manner.

‘Of course,’ he states briskly. He turns and points up the hillside, to where a series of boulders mark the start of a steep expanse of rocky scree. ‘When I was growing up, the
children used to dare each other to touch the rock.’

‘Why – what’s so special about it?’ you ask, shielding your eyes against the brightening sun.

‘Oh, you’ll see.’ With a smirk, Benin starts up the rock-strewn slope. You fall into step behind him, not entirely sure if you trust this strange traveller. Turn to
169
.

158

Legendary monster: The restless knight

Rising out of the fenlands is a ragged bluff known as the ‘Witch’s Wold’. Its bleak hilltops are said to be haunted – by all accounts, a place to be
avoided. And yet you find yourself deviating from the overgrown trail that would have taken you safely past them, your curiosity piqued by tales of ghosts and lost treasures.

As you rise higher into the hills the temperature drops suddenly, plunging you into a chill fog. The only visible landmark is an outthrust of rock, arching like a black finger across the marsh.
Frost crunches underfoot as you make your way towards it, passing through a copse of dark stunted trees. The hard ground is littered with bones, sparkling with coats of ice. The remains of
unfortunate travellers perhaps, although the spattering of rusted weapons and shields suggest a larger battle took place here.

You stumble onto the black rock, the mist shifting to reveal its summit. There, silhouetted against the broiling white clouds, is the figure of a knight, dressed for battle. His tattered cloak
snaps back and forth in the wind – the only thing that moves in this still, bleak wasteland.

Your heart thuds in your chest as you advance closer, picking your way past the frost-covered boulders. The knight is watching you – of that you are certain and yet you sense there are no
earthly eyes within his winged helm, only a seething, angry darkness.

There is the scrape of metal as the knight draws his sword from its scabbard. The translucent blade glitters like a shard of crystal ice, its inscribed runes humming with magic.

I did my duty! How I could I have been so blind!

The words reverberate all around you, sharp and cutting as knives.

I dedicated my life. But I was betrayed! Betrayed!

The knight starts down the slope towards you, his movements eerily silent and weightless – like something trapped between worlds, in a dream perhaps, or a nightmare. Raising your weapons,
you prepare to meet this ghostly knight in battle:

Special abilities