The Heart of Fire (47 page)

If you defeat Bellona, then any remaining larvae are also defeated. Turn to
381
.

308

Dodging the jagged, razor-sharp fists, you pummel away at the beast’s legs, combining your attacks with those of your companions to sever the vines and roots. Unable to
heal fast enough, the beast stumbles and falls, the earth shaking as its giant body crashes down into the mud. Temporarily prone, the monster provides an easy target.

Leaping onto its chest, you slash and blast away at the twisted boughs until the beast is reduced to a blackened, scorched heap. With the giant defeated, you may now help yourself to one of the
following rewards:

If you have the word
Wiccan
on your hero sheet, turn to
331
. Otherwise, turn to
353
.

309

(Make a note of the word
papal
on your hero sheet.)

You draw your weapons, moving to stand beside Ventus and Bea. ‘All I see are thieves and brigands,’ you reply, scowling. ‘You prey on travellers and make these lands unsafe. I
will not go with you – nor will we surrender.’

The feathered woman shakes her head, sighing with disappointment. ‘You know nothing of us, Sanchen. And your ignorance will cost you dearly this day. Conall, get what we came for . . .
’

The warrior grunts, then starts towards the elderly man, who is now humming to himself quietly. Ventus moves quickly to intercede. ‘Lay one hand on him and . . .’

Suddenly, the loud blare of a horn reverberates across the moorland. It is followed by a hooting call from one of the Wiccans. Some kind of warning. They all turn as one, weapons leaping from
scabbards and belts, as the first bright explosion rips into their ranks. Turn to
442
.

310

You drop the bark shavings into the mixture and stir it around with one of the spoons. However, it only takes a few minutes of stirring for you to realise that you have made a
mistake. The liquid is now giving off a bitter smell, having turned lumpy and sour. You will need to start again.

If you wish to try and create another potion then turn to
361
. Otherwise, you can leave the laboratory and visit the reverend’s house (turn to
210
) or the herbalist’s cottage (turn to
224
).

311

‘Tchk zizzt intruder!’ chitters the overseer. ‘Zizzt destroy!’ Looking around, you see more of the creatures scuttling out of a side tunnel.

You cannot win this fight. Shaking with exhaustion, you turn to the larger ant-man. You sheathe your weapons, its mirror-like eyes reflecting your determined stare.

‘Give it your best shot,’ you growl.

The overseer’s spiracles blast slime in your direction. You twist your body at the last possible moment, catching one of the strands in your hand. The ant reels you in quickly, its
sharpened teeth clicking together hungrily. Only then does the creature’s slow brain register your plan. Once you are in range, you throw yourself against the ant-man, wrapping your arms
around its waist. Your forward momentum sends you both tumbling backwards, rolling across the ground . . . and straight through one of the holes in the floor.

The wind is a dull roar in your ears, the world spinning over and over in a dizzying blur. Then, you are jolted sideways. Out of instinct, the ant has fired a slime rope at the ceiling. Suddenly
you are both swinging rather than falling, slamming against one of the walls where you finally let go.

Thankfully the drop is only a short one, the ant-man’s sticky rope having slowed your fall. Landing on your feet you start sprinting for the tunnel, where you see the other survivors
taking shelter. One of the party steps forward, a mage in black and gold robes. They throw a spear of fire through the air, which whistles past your ear and hits something behind you, filling the
cavern with a high-pitched wail. Part of an ant’s body crashes down nearby.

The mage grabs your arm as you reach the tunnel, pulling you in to safety.

‘What was that?’ gasps Vas, breathing hard.

‘A massacre was what it was,’ cries Surl, sounding panicked. ‘That weren’t no greenheads.’

You look around at the party. Of the original dozen, now only half remain.

‘Come on,’ growls the captain. ‘Keep it together, people.’ He pats you on the shoulder, a hint of admiration in his steely grey eyes. ‘Come on, hero. You’re
tracker now. Get moving!’

Feeling more like bait than a valued member of the team, you find yourself leading the group deeper into the mountain. After several hundred metres the passage widens, joining a much larger
tunnel which cuts left to right. A chill wind blows from the west, carrying with it a salty, stagnant odour. To the east the tunnel ascends steeply, heading deeper into the mountain.

312

Your hand goes to the glass vial, hanging around your neck. ‘I’m sorry Benin, but I made a promise – a promise to someone who saved my life.’

Benin’s face contorts into a mask of rage. He raises his staff, its tip igniting with a blazing white fire. ‘I cannot let you do this! I’ll lose everything – everything!
I won’t let you take the bishop’s life!’

You barely have time to draw your weapons, before the berserk priest is upon you:

Special abilities

If you defeat the priest, turn to
333
.

313

You spot a silver chain lying amongst the demon’s smouldering remains. You retrieve it from the ashes, surprised to discover that it is the twin of the locket that you
found on the robber’s corpse. After brushing away the dirt and grime, you take the two broken halves and lock them together, forming a heart-shaped pendant.

You have gained the following reward, which you may take:

As the wind scatters the demon’s ashes, you are left to ponder how a desperate robber came to be carrying the other half of this enchanted locket. (Return to the
map
to continue your
journey).

314

As you smash through the endless horde, a berserk fury starts to take hold. One that you gladly welcome. Skeletons splinter and explode as you drive your weapons through their
bodies, their clumsy strikes forever missing their mark as you dodge and weave, your prophetic sixth-sense allowing you to anticipate each and every move, keeping you one heartbeat ahead.

‘Is that the best you can do?’ you snarl, spittle flying from your lips.

Magic missiles arc through the green mist, zipping past you by scant inches. You howl and snarl like some unleashed beast, filling the sky with an endless rain of body parts.

Then it is over. You stand alone at the centre of a wide swathe of destruction.

Gasping for air, you stumble back, a sudden weariness dragging at your muscles. From beneath your clothing a sulphurous smoke curls into the air.