The Heart of Fire (49 page)

325

You notice a number of items snagged in the weed-choked waters. Using Boom Mamba’s staff, you are able to fish them out of the pool. As well as a pouch containing 40 gold
crowns, you also find one of the following rewards:

When you have made your decision, you return to the courtyard. Turn to
510
.

326

(Deduct 5 gold crowns from your hero sheet.)

You offer the gold to the leader. His first reaction is one of surprise, then his expression folds into a sceptical frown. ‘Is this some game? A trick?’

‘Father, please.’ The youngest boy moves closer, greedily eying up the shining coins. ‘We have to be more trusting.’

‘Take it,’ you insist. ‘I can spare it – and perhaps the gold will get you some clothes and food. It’ll certainly make the roads a little safer.’ The last
statement is accompanied by a wry grin.

The youngest looks to his father. ‘Please?’

Reluctantly, the leader nods, reaching out and taking the gold. He catches your eye and offers you a grudging smile. ‘I’m sorry. Things have been . . . hard. Not often a stranger
offers us charity these days. Not without something attached to it, anyways.’

You retrieve your pack from the mud. ‘Are you headed for Raven’s Rest?’ you ask, hoisting the pack onto your shoulders. ‘We could travel together.’

The leader looks to his boys, then nods in agreement. ‘It’s a deal – Raven’s Rest it is.’ (Record the word
raven
on your hero sheet, then turn to
199
.)

327

The swarm of beetles crash into you, a dark wave of clicking death. Desperately you try and bat them away, but their sharp pincers are everywhere, digging through your armour
and stabbing into your flesh. In horror, you realise that these creatures are a giant form of tick, and they are trying to suck your blood! You must fight:

Special abilities

If you manage to defeat these blood-sucking bugs, turn to
370
.

328

Most of the laboratory was destroyed in the fight, but one table remains intact, covered in a vast array of alchemical equipment – potion bottles, mixing spoons, chopping
knives, weighing apparatus. It is all the equipment you need to create your own potions. The only thing missing is the ingredients.

If you have the word
gatherer
written on your hero sheet, then turn to
361
. Otherwise, you cannot proceed at this time. Write the word
mixer
on your
hero sheet, then turn to
210
if you want to search the reverend’s home, or turn to
224
if you want to investigate the
herbalist’s cottage.

329

You find Anna at Jolando’s bedside. Quickly, she takes the vial from you and sets to work on the antidote. It appears you have arrived just in the nick of time. The
thief’s condition has worsened drastically. His face is now gaunt, the skin clinging to the bone. Occasionally, he gives a wheezing, rattling breath – the only outward sign that he is
still alive.

Anna pours her concoction into a shallow bowl before moving to the man’s side. You grab a blanket and use it to prop him up, while the healer tilts the bowl to his pale lips. He coughs and
splutters on the sticky liquid, but it appears he has at least swallowed some of it. Anna seems satisfied.

‘Now, we must wait,’ she says. ‘We should see an improvement in the next hour or so. Otherwise . . .’ The healer shakes her head sadly.

You wait in the shop, surrounded on all sides by a multi-coloured array of potions, herbs and powders. However, your eyes keep returning to a small onyx statue set in an alcove above the front
door. It looks like a bearded man with his hands resting on a large rotund belly. You make a note to ask Anna about its origin – you have never seen one like it before.

At last, Anna emerges from the side room. The healer looks tired, but she is smiling. Under one arm, she is carrying a small iron casket. You rise quickly to your feet, urging Anna to reveal the
outcome.

‘The antidote worked,’ she nods, glancing back towards the side room. ‘Jolando is sleeping now; he needs to regain his strength. But we were able to talk –
briefly.’

330

Bea purses her lips as if trying to contain the words. Then they suddenly burst forth in an excited flurry. ‘I’m not supposed to speak to you – but this is
too exciting! You’re a prophet, aren’t you? That is why the Wiccans called you Sanchen. It’s their word for their elders – those they believe have the sight. I don’t
trust they could ever have such a thing, not like the great Allam, blessed by the One God. But you, perhaps . . . yes, the Dean is very excited, very excited to have you here, if it’s all
true that is, and not just made up – not that you would make it up, but oh . . .’ The woman finally draws breath, her words faltering. ‘Look at me, I’m not supposed to have
said any of that.’ She glances down at her feet guiltily. ‘I do go on so. Pretend I never said a word, that’s the best.’

331

‘Impressive, very impressive,’ grins the demon, who has watched the entire fight with bemused indifference. ‘But futile all the same.’

Damaris strides towards the dais, then drops to one knee, her head bowed. ‘Great one. We follow the old ways, the old magic. We have endured much to come here.’ She looks up at the
demon, her feathered grey hair streaming in the wind. ‘Why did the dwarfs imprison you, great one?’

The creature leans closer, wings flaring out from its spiked shoulders. ‘My crimes are endless, witch. Do you know who I am?’

Damaris continues to study the creature. ‘You are a demon prince.’

‘I am Cernos,’ nods the demon. ‘I have been a prisoner here for thousands of your mortal years. I have served my time and now I desire freedom.’ Its crimson eyes flick to
you, its horned brow creasing together. ‘Grant it or you will die here.’

Conall steps forward, his body now human once more. The glow from his painted runes casts dark shadows about his face. ‘And do you know who
I
am, demon?’ he snorts.

Damaris spins suddenly, flinching with irritation. ‘Conall! You witless fool! Leave this to me.’

In a blur the warrior draws his twin axes, their crimson runes sparking to life. ‘You forget yourself, Damaris. It is I who will be king.’ His angry gaze passes between the witch and
the demon. ‘You think this one will kneel before me? I will not share my throne. Not with anyone.’