The Heart of Fire (62 page)

If you manage to defeat your island-hopping foe, turn to
575
.

409

You push open the iron door, the grimy water gushing around your legs as it spills out into the corridor beyond. After brushing the grime and dirt from your clothes, you take a
moment to study your surroundings. The corridor is fashioned from black stone, smooth and without decoration. To your left it continues for several metres before ending in a set of worn stairs
leading up to a decorative wooden door. To your right, there is an open metal grill, beyond which you can see a set of rusted-iron stairs spiralling down towards the sounds of buzzing, hammering
machinery.

410

You leave the horses and continue on foot, clambering up the sheer slope to reach the causeway. Ventus leads at the head of the party, the white light from his fists helping to
push back the lingering shadows of dawn. Behind him strides Benin, the priest. Since leaving the monastery, he has rarely spoken – his demeanour one of grim silences and thoughtful
reflection. You and Bea bring up the rear, the pilgrim’s chatter always seeking to lighten the mood.

‘I don’t think Duerdoun would make my top ten list of pilgrim spots,’ she says, screwing up her face with distaste. ‘First I thought it was just the smell. But now I
think it’s the dust. And the rocks. And the bones. A lot of bones. And that awful smell. . . . Oh, did I mention that already?’

As you pull yourself up onto the stone causeway, you get your first glimpse of the place known as Duerdoun. Your first impression is one of jagged black teeth, stabbing through the morning mist.
The teeth are actually needles of rock, lining both sides of the causeway – some still intact, others broken and crumbling. They stretch away into the curling mist, to where you can dimly
make out a temple-like building, carved into the side of a dark mountain.

‘What was it used for?’ you croak, choking on the black dust thrown up by the wind.

‘It was an entrance way to a dwarf city,’ explains Ventus, looking back over his shoulder. ‘A place overrun with goblins and demons. It was sealed long ago – with good
reason.’

Benin stops abruptly, raising a hand. You note his concern as the needle-like pillars either side of you start to glow with silvery-white runes. Bea draws her twin swords, falling into a crouch
as their inscriptions dance with magic.

‘There is evil here,’ growls Ventus, his narrowed eyes scanning the swirling mist. ‘Do not lose faith.’ Turn to
392
.

411

Once again, your concentrated attacks bring down the thorn colossus. Amongst its barbed remains you spy the following item, which you may carefully retrieve:

Breathing heavily and aching from your wounds, you glance over at your companions, seeing that they are equally exhausted from the fight. The demon, however, remains unimpressed.

‘Are we learning yet?’ it asks in a mocking tone.

You struggle to answer, each lungful of air burning like fire. ‘We’re better than you think we are,’ you manage to pant.

‘No. You are not.’ The demon shakes its head, dark scales scraping like knives. ‘You are a disappointment to me.’

One of the charred roots lying next to you starts to twitch and shake. Then it slides away across the churned mud to join the other tentacle-like vines that are starting to coil together again,
healing the giant monster.

Bea falls to her knees, sobbing. ‘No . . . I can’t do this. Not again . . .’

Something within Ventus snaps. The monk strides forward, his face a bitter storm of fury. ‘I will be damned for this,’ he bellows, bringing his fists down on the first of the
demon’s restraints. Both you and Bea race to his side.

‘What are you doing? Stop!’ Bea tugs on the monk’s robe, but he ignores her protests. He moves around the dais, smashing his inscribed fists into the remaining iron rings.

‘Yes,’ snarls the demon, its breath quickening with excitement. ‘At last!’ Turn to
393
.

412

At the other side of the hall you see the child watching you, his patchwork cloak glimmering amidst the curling smoke. Behind him is a glowing portal, identical to the others
you have used to travel around the tower.

‘You are good at my games,’ grins the boy, scratching his chin. ‘But my best game is yet to come. It’s my favourite!’

‘Where are the others?’ you demand angrily, striding towards him. ‘Enough of your games!’

‘Ah, can’t tell you that,’ he smiles.

Suddenly the whole room starts to shake, rattling the metal walls. The child looks around in confusion. ‘No! The tower . . . it’s starting again . . . It wants to take us
back!’

‘Back where?’ you yell, as debris starts to shift and slide across the hall. ‘You mean the shroud?’

The child doesn’t answer. Instead he turns and runs, disappearing through the glowing portal. You hurry after him, determined not to let him escape. Turn to
32
.

413

Bill walks you over to the giant. ‘He’s yours for forty shinnies – and I’d say it’s a good deal for that amount of muscle on your side.’ The
hunter nudges you, then points to the tree-sized club, resting next to one of the huts. ‘Just remember – when he swings that ol’ thing, keep your head down, pal. Wouldn’t
want to lose that pretty face, now.’

If you wish to hire Nelson, then the giant will provide you with the following, for 40 gold crowns: