The Heart of Fire (79 page)

If you manage to defeat this decayed knight, turn to
455
.

524

Desperately you look for some sort of advantage, whilst the guards’ sweeping blows continue to beat you back into the tangled garden. Then a plan comes to mind. Weaving
between the next wave of attacks, you bait the guards to follow you – swiping at their golden limbs then back-stepping away. As the statues lumber after you, they quickly become entangled in
the roots and creepers, staggering drunkenly as they seek to find their balance. Whilst they are distracted you move behind them, striking at their exposed backs. The runed armour sparks and hisses
as the guards’ magic quickly dies, their bodies becoming statues once again, frozen in situ.

With the guards defeated, you may now take one of the following rewards:

Pushing through the foliage, you rejoin the path and enter the ziggurat. Turn to
715
.

525

‘The boom stick is ready. Let’s go!’ The shaman points to a narrow side-street, overshadowed by crumbling temples. ‘Now we go boom the big
one.’

Halfway along the street Boom pauses, kneeling down beside a rock. He moves it aside, then slides his fingers into the cracks of the paving stone beneath. With a grunt, he lifts it up to reveal
a hollowed-out cavity. He reaches inside, his tongue worming inside his mouth as he struggles to locate what he is looking for.

‘Gotcha!’ He tugs out a hooped strap of leather, with over a dozen clay vials threaded along its length. ‘This my back-up,’ he grins, putting his head and arm through the
strap so it rests across his shoulder. ‘Take no chances.’ Snatching up his staff the shaman continues down the street, the vials on his make-shift bandolier clinking together as he
runs. Turn to
616
.

526

There is a bright flash of light and suddenly, you find yourself looking upon a sword of purest gold, its crescent blade flickering with magical energies. You may now take:

The font’s magic has also cured you of your hex. You can now access all of your abilities once again. With your work here done, you leave the pagoda and continue your journey. Turn to
668
.

527

The forest is beginning to awaken after the storm, the chirruping, warbling shrieks of the wildlife starting to ring out through the rain-dripping trees. As you follow the
tigris through the steaming forest, you take time to study your companions more closely. They number only fifteen, four females and eleven males. You suspect their pack has been whittled away by
the hunters, their rare pelts prized across Valeron, their fighting prowess demanded in the games and arenas.

After an hour of trekking north, through thick forested hills, the Sheva halt. The leader is discussing something with one of his pack, a younger male – more slight in build than the rest
– his face distinguished by a black stripe over one eye. The others are glaring at you as they wait patiently. You sense that they don’t completely trust you – yet. One of the
females, however, saunters over. You have named her White Cloak on account of her having fewer markings than the rest of her kin. She offers a half-smile as she looks you up and down with her
bright, green eyes.

‘I will believe the great spirit Shonac sent you to us,’ she says, her words ending with a catlike purr. ‘This day we join claws and make the hunters bleed.’

You glance past her shoulder, to where the leader and Black Patch are now gathering together several of the others. ‘They scout camp,’ explains White Cloak. ‘Before we
strike.’

528

On the banks of the swamp, you discover the remains of several unfortunate adventurers – their grey corpulent flesh bloated with swamp water. Quickly, you rifle through
their belongings to see if there is anything worth salvaging.

You find a mouldy bag containing 20 gold crowns and one of the following items:

With your grim task complete, you return to the courtyard. Turn to
510
.

529

Team battle (advanced): Issakhar

(Note: You must have completed the red quest
City of the damned
before you can start this challenge.)

The lava fields break at the foot of the volcano, becoming a series of steep-sided gorges. The ground is hard and cracked, the loose slate making the going slippery and treacherous. Occasionally
you spy low-lying clouds of vapour, drifting over pools of water. They bubble and steam, belching sulphurous gas into the hot, smoky air.

You soon lose all sense of direction, your path determined by the ever-branching maze of valleys and gorges. One such valley eventually brings you to a narrow corridor, with angular slabs of
stone set on either side. Even through the misty haze, it is clear that these are not natural formations – they have been placed here for a purpose.

You examine the nearest stone. Each of its faces has been carved with runes, their stylised patterns reminding you of those you saw at Duerdoun and amongst the Lamuri ruins.

‘Dwarven.’

A man’s voice catches you by surprise. You swing around, your weapons hissing from their scabbards. But there is no one there.

‘I suppose this is something of a paradox.’

You spin again, eyes scanning the lines of stone. ‘Who’s there?’ you growl impatiently. ‘Face me!’

A shadow moves at the corner of your eye. You snap around, to see a black-cloaked figure step out from behind a carved stone. The hood of the cloak is drawn up to conceal his face.

‘Would I be here if it wasn’t for what you said – what you saw?’ The stranger waves a spidery finger in the air. ‘So, so, so perplexing. Am I as much a puppet in
this as you, I wonder? Ah, the schemes of gods and monsters . . .’ The man shakes his head, mumbling to himself.

‘Show yourself!’ you snarl, taking an angry step forward. After trekking across the barren lava flats for the last two days, you are not in the mood for tricks or conversation.

The man raises two pale hands to his hood, then pushes it back. For a moment you struggle to place the familiar features – a gaunt, hollow face, scars raking across the bald pate; a few
tufts of grey hair protruding like spines from the pulpy flesh. Then recognition dawns, hitting you like a blow to the stomach.

It is the librarian from Durnhollow.

‘That’s impossible!’

You know you should feel anger – a desire for revenge for the tortures you were put through – but your mind is racing with too many questions. How could he have found you? How could
he have known you would be here?

The visions.

‘You . . . you listened to it all,’ you croak hoarsely. ‘Why? Why would you do this?’

‘I’m here because you need me,’ he replies, the scar on his left cheek tugging at his smile.

You stare at him, baffled. In your head you can hear the echo of that voice, scratching at your mind, tearing at your thoughts, torturing you in that cell for hour upon hour. ‘I should
kill you,’ you reply darkly, hands tightening around your weapons. ‘You have a lot of guts coming here. After all that—’

The man raises a hand for silence. ‘I am not who you think I am,’ he states firmly. ‘My name is . . .’ He stops, his body suddenly flinching with shock. ‘No!’
he hisses. ‘Stay away! Stay out of this, fool!’ He beats at the side of his head, as if looking to rid it of some nagging nuisance. ‘Do not interfere. You want your fr, free,
freedom, don’t you?’ His body continues to twitch and tremble. You notice a purple light flickering along one of his arms, glowing through the material of his clothing. ‘Enough!
We do what he says. I am in control now!’

‘What’s going on?’ you ask hesitantly, fearing the man has gone completely insane.

He grimaces, still torn by some inner conflict. ‘I am . . . Lorcan,’ he manages to gasp. ‘Yes, Lorcan.’ He repeats it louder, as if by uttering the name it will keep his
inner demons at bay. ‘And we’re here to kill a monster.’

‘Cernos?’ you ask, your eyebrows lifted with interest.

‘No.’ The man gestures impatiently to the corridor of rock. ‘Not Cernos. A drake.’

You scowl peevishly. ‘Then I don’t have time for this.’

Lorcan mirrors your irritation. ‘Listen. Unless you’re going to sprout a pair of wings, the valley ahead is the only way to reach Tartarus. And it’s guarded by an ancient evil
from the time of the dwarves. Cernos is already ahead of you, but my wards will slow him down.’

You open your mouth to protest, but the retort dies swiftly. ‘I suppose I have no choice . . .’

‘We always have a choice,’ he replies, a sudden mischief lighting his eyes. ‘Come, let us do this quickly. Follow me.’ He turns and starts away, pulling his cloak tight
around his shoulders. As you watch him depart you notice a golden staff strapped to his back, glimmering with magic.

‘And if I choose not to follow?’ you state obstinately, holding your ground.

There is no response. The man – Lorcan – has already disappeared into the mist, his footfalls echoing back from the valley walls.
Of course
, you glower to yourself,
he
already knows I will follow – as he knew I would be here, trekking through the lava fields
. Resigned to your fate, you hurry after the scribe, determined to drag more answers from him
– by any means necessary. Turn to
662
.

530

Next, you must decide what type of paper you wish to use. One set has been made with a light-coloured wood that sparkles with spots of silver. The other set has a bitter smell,
the paper infused with flecks of dark crimson. If you wish to choose the
silver wood paper
, turn to
856
. If you would prefer to use the
blood leaf paper
,
turn to
719
.

531

You have discovered rare Lamuri treasures that have been locked away for thousands of years! You may now choose up to two of the following rewards:

You also find a bronze coffer, containing 100 gold crowns. Having looted the vault you return to the main chamber, where you take the sloping ledge up to the open doorway. Turn to
595
.

532

A black body flies out from the undergrowth, slamming into the weasel and sending him screaming into the jungle. You hear a savage roar and the sickening sound of claws rending
through flesh. You stagger back, as does the dark-skinned hunter, both of you drawn out of your own private battle by this new threat.

A male tigris bounds back into the clearing, powerful legs driving it into the other hunter. They crash together, going down into the watery mud. A knife flashes, slashing into the beast’s
side – but the creature shows no pain, its claws and jaws delivering a decisive end to the fight.