The Heart of Fire (29 page)

When you finally start to reply, the witchfinder holds up a finger, wagging it back and forth. ‘You give me too much credit, prophet. Not all of us are gifted with visions of the future.
As to your forest – it was dwarven magic. Created to keep the demon prisoner. An odd punishment, perhaps, but then it has been effective for several thousands of years. Now, sadly, Cernos is
free – and he will seek to enact his revenge. He’ll be following in his maker’s footsteps – the Archdemon, Barahar.’

Return to
494
to ask another question, or turn to
433
to continue.

176

Searching through the vault, you find 200 gold crowns. You may also take any/all of the following:

When you have made your decision, you leave the vault and exit the hall through the open doorway. Turn to
797
.

177

‘I am Sir Bastion,’ proclaims the knight with gusto. ‘You must have heard of me. My deeds in these lands often precede my good name.’ He flicks a hand
through his golden mane of hair. You spot the farrier rolling his eyes.

‘I must admit, I have not,’ you reply honestly.

The knight glares at you for a moment, then drops his shoulders, visibly deflating. ‘Humph. I should have guessed as much – it’s not for want of trying, I tell you. Unless I
lower myself to become some pilgrim’s bodyguard, there’s no glory to be found in this ignoble marsh. I am positively wasted here.’

The farrier snorts, coughing noisily into the back of his hand. ‘Sorry, just some dust,’ he grins in apology.

‘Why did you come here?’ you ask, looking around at the ramshackle settlement. ‘Is this really the place to find heroic adventure?’

The knight grimaces at a passing group of mercenaries. ‘Granted, it is not what I expected. Dear mama used to tell me such wonderful stories of Saint Allam and his knights. They came west
to find adventure and spread the word of the One God. I thought perhaps . . . here, at least, I might finally make a name for myself. Do something to be remembered.’

‘There’s always time,’ you smile encouragingly.

The knight pats the neck of his steed. ‘I fear this is not a place for honourable heroes – is it, Wilma? Scoundrels and mercenaries, perhaps. That’s all I see.’ He
suddenly catches himself, quickly putting a hand to your arm. ‘Present company excepted, of course.’

178

‘The monastery,’ says the woman, bouncing on her heels with excitement. ‘I can’t wait to see it. Heard so many stories about—’

The man clears his throat noisily, forcing her to silence. They exchange a look, then she lowers her gaze, her shoulders slumping. ‘Ah yes. Not supposed to say, am I? My mouth runs away
with me sometimes.’ She turns away glumly.

‘Indeed it does,’ the man glowers angrily. He shoots you a scathing glance. ‘There is nothing you can do here, traveller. So be on your way.’

179

The creatures confronting you are fast, deadlier than they first appear, but they soon fall to your attacks. Leaping over their splintered remains, you hurry to aid the
beleaguered traveller. However, it appears he is now on the top of the situation. Having fended off the remaining creatures with his staff, the man raises his palm and utters an arcane command.
From his hand, a white light bursts forth – blinding and intense. There is an echoing crack of thunder.

You stagger back, trying to blink through the bright afterimage. When you are finally able to focus again you see that the area around him is charred and blackened, as are the broken bodies of
the strange woodland creatures.

The man lowers his hand, which is still glowing with a faint residue of magic. ‘Thank the One God,’ he gasps, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. He catches your eye and manages
a crooked smile. ‘And thank you, too. I thought I was a goner.’

He steps forward, offering out his hand. ‘I’m Benin,’ he grins. ‘Don’t worry, you’re perfectly safe to shake it.’

Mirroring his grin, you take his hand in friendship.

‘I wasn’t expecting to run across anyone else in these woods,’ he says, sounding grateful for his change of fortune. ‘And certainly not these!’ He kicks at the
nearest pile of blackened wood.

180

‘There was a man who once lived in this village – Rorus Satch. He was working on a cure for vampirism. He was looking for a way to cure himself.’

‘How do you know all this?’ you ask, bewildered.

Eldias cracks his knuckles. ‘I found his apprentice. And after some persuasion, he was willing to talk.’

You glance over at the scattered papers and the overturned writing desk. ‘And have you found the cure?’

The witchfinder shakes his head. ‘This is not his house, but I have already searched there. . . everywhere. All his books, all his journals, have been taken.’ He walks over to the
desk and stoops down, plucking something from the floor. It is a painting of a man, held in a cracked glass frame. He holds it out to you.

Taking the picture, you tilt it towards the light. It shows a middleaged man, thin and gaunt, with pepper-grey eyes and a thick mane of silver hair. ‘Who is this?’ you ask.

Eldias watches you, his jaw clenched. ‘The reverend. The man I am here to kill.’

Turn to
347
to ask Eldias another question. When you are ready to continue, turn to
340
.

181

The tapestry features a number of embroidered panels; each one tells part of the story of Saint Allam. Your own knowledge of the saint is scanty, having never had time for
books in your youth. The woman beside you notices you scratching your head in confusion as you try and make sense of the scenes.

‘You’re not familiar with the story?’ she asks. Before you can answer she is already pointing to one of the scenes, where Allam is depicted kneeling in a church, looking up at
a bright light. ‘That’s Allam, the youngest of King Gerard’s sons. He was given a message, a vision, that he must journey to the west.’

Her finger travels to an image of Allam riding at the head of a procession of knights. ‘The king sent him west with an army, and a personal guard of his best knights. Those knights became
the six saints.’ The woman points to a further panel, where Allam is shown striking down a misshapen creature with a bolt of lightning. ‘Their armies fought their way west, conquering
the trolls and the goblin hordes. But those victories meant nothing to Allam. He was searching for something else – something he called “the True Light”.’

‘Did he ever find it?’ you ask, scanning the many scenes.

The woman shakes her head sadly. ‘They brought much to the west; they founded Carvel and brought the One God’s grace to the pagan peoples. But Allam never found the True Light. Many
think it is a myth, something he invented to keep up the morale of his forces. But he always believed in it – and we must believe too. These lands are special. That is why we come
here.’

The woman moves closer to the final panel, where Allam is shown ascending into clouds on angel’s wings. ‘It’s nearly two hundred years to the day that Allam was reunited with
the One God.’ She looks your way. ‘You are staying for the All Saint’s celebrations aren’t you? I’ve heard it’s going to be really something. The prince has
promised—’

Her voice grows distant as your attention wanders back to the first image, of Allam kneeling before the bright light of the One God. Could it have been the same light you saw in your recent
vision, guiding you through the forest of thorns?

You mumble a hasty ‘thank you’ to the woman before moving away.

182

Lazlo escorts you to the courtyard, where a group of servants are busy unloading crates from a series of wagons. Jeeves appears to be overseeing the operation, furiously
scratching notes into a log book whilst hurrying between wagons, snapping at everyone’s heels.

‘Just some extra goodies for the All Saint’s festival,’ smiles Lazlo, noticing your look of bewilderment. ‘Fireworks – the very best.’

‘And those?’ you ask, pointing to a pile of smaller boxes, each one carrying the stamp of a white rose.

Lazlo stops, glancing sideways at you. ‘Yes, the white rose. It’s the symbol of the cardinals from the White Abbey. Those are supplies for the war effort.’

‘The war effort . . .’ you repeat, confused. ‘You mean, the Church’s fight against the Wiccans?’

Lazlo winces, shifting uncomfortably. ‘Look, I don’t get directly involved. My supplies are medicinal – potions, cures. I make sure that they go to the right people . .
.’ He scratches nervously at the back of his neck. ‘On both sides. That could get me into a lot of trouble. But I trust you are the sort to be discreet.’

You shrug your shoulders. ‘I try and stay out of politics.’

Lazlo’s grin returns. ‘And those are wise words, my friend.’ The prince nods to the guards at the gate, who move aside to let you pass. ‘Good luck,’ he smiles.
‘I hope our paths cross again, one day.’ Thanking Lazlo, you leave the castle and return to the bustling streets of Carvel. Turn to the map to continue your adventure.

183

Your legs soon ache from your ascent into the mountains. After what seems like a lifetime you finally reach a ledge, banked with snow. Here the goblin tracks are clearly
visible, leading into and out of a cave.

The captain slides his shield from his back and tugs his axe loose from his belt. You see the others similarly drawing their weapons, tensed and ready for combat. Surl, the party’s
tracker, creeps forward into the cave. The rest of you follow, unsure what you will find inside. Turn to
87
.

184

‘It’s common knowledge that we got a war brewing in the east; been skirmishes with Mordland already. I dare say it won’t be long before the king raises an
army and announces another one of them holy crusades. Probably about time – bring some of the One God’s light to that forsaken land.’

The map-seller’s gaze falls on the domed church. ‘But it’s bad news for us. Inquisitors are being pulled back to the capital. The guards try their best, I know, but they
aren’t enough to handle the problems in Carvel. We need them around, not gallivanting off east where’ll we never see them again.’

185

Frantically, you turn your back on the advancing zombies and hurry towards the nearest building, a two-storey cottage of grey stone and black wood. You try the front door but
it is locked. With the screeching zombies closing in on all sides, you are left with only one choice. Turn to
227
.

186

You dodge through the bombardment of gooey strands, following the others as they race across the cavern. Up ahead you see a flash of magic and the glint of steel. The captain
and several of the others are fighting off a giant creature, which has appeared out of a side tunnel. It has the head and torso of a man, but the lower body and legs of a black ant. Both of its
human-like arms end in serrated blades, which the creature is using to slash and hack at its attackers.