The Heart of Fire (84 page)

‘Please, no.’ The mother speaks up for the first time, addressing the grey-haired leader. ‘They are strong. I tried to find a better way—’ She pauses, glancing
sideways at Scar-face. ‘We tried to find better way,’ she corrects. ‘But hunters have pack lands and spread like shadow. Old dens not safe.’

Grey-hair grunts softly. ‘I told you this. Better you see it with your own eyes.’

The white gives a rumbling growl. ‘No one ever crosses marsh. Sheva fight now, before we all gone.’ His green eyes regard you with utter disdain. ‘Would this one lend its
claws; turn steel against its own kin?’

‘No,’ implores Scar-face. ‘The marsh is the better way. We flee across the mountains – find new dens. Join Khana – we need more claws.’

560

You wade out into the lake, the noxious stench of the water making you gag. It isn’t until you pull yourself up onto the island, your clothes dripping with slime and pond
weed, that you see the effect the polluted water has had on your equipment. The slime contains some kind of acid that has eaten away at the metal and leather, whilst leaving yourself unharmed. (You
must immediately lower the
brawn, magic
or
armour
of two items of equipment by 1.)

At last you are able to inspect the chest. Up close, you can now see that the wooden panels are etched with runes. You cannot fathom their purpose, but suspect they might be protecting the wood
from the effects of the swamp. Eager to see what is inside, you put a hand to the lid. Suddenly the runes flash into life, their spidery patterns glowing with purple light. Then there is a loud
crack of magic. You feel yourself being flung backwards, your surroundings blurring into a white tunnel. Another deafening crack – and you are tumbling across rocks and stone, the sounds of
the jungle rushing in to envelop you once again. Turn to
574
.

561

In your haste, you misjudge a handhold and slip, your legs scrabbling desperately against the rough wall. For several heart-stopping seconds, you are holding on with one hand.
Then the loose rock crumbles and you find yourself falling. By luck rather than judgement, you manage to grab a jagged outcrop. It breaks your fall, but one of the straps on your backpack comes
loose, swinging itself free of your shoulder.

When you finally make it back onto the bridge, sweating and shaking from your experience, you discover that you have lost one of your prized items. (You must remove one backpack item from your
hero sheet.) Turn to
749
.

562

Your weapons and magic shred through the raging elemental, weakening it and slowing its momentum. ‘That’s it!’ Boom Mamba races into the centre of the ruins,
lifting up his glowing staff. The wind snakes around him, now little more than a gust of whirling grit and sand. There is a flash from the staff’s runes as the wind is drawn inwards, swirling
and spinning into its glowing headpiece.

Then it is gone. Boom cracks a smile, his face shining from the blue light swirling around the staff. ‘Zephyr is in the boom stick now. We gonna blast Mortzilla good with this!’

(By defeating Zephyr, the shaman’s staff has gained the
wind guardian
ability. Make a note of this on your hero sheet.)

If you are a warrior, turn to
160
. If you are a mage, turn to
346
. If you are a rogue, turn to
297
.

563

The stairs descend into cramped passageways, where the air is cold and musty. You sense you are now underground, as evidenced by the occasional root or creeper pushing between
the tight stone slabs. Again, every stone here is covered in carvings; but these have taken on a more sinister tone, the images depicting bloody sacrifice and demonic entities.

Turning down another passage, you notice alcoves cut into the walls. Each one contains a linen-wrapped corpse, bent over in a crouched position. Some are wearing headdresses, others have clay
animal masks fixed over their skulls. Pots and bowls have been arranged around each corpse – perhaps for offerings, or part of some after-life ceremony.

Another turning brings you to a junction. To the left the passageway ends in a stone door, which stands slightly ajar. To your right the passage becomes a set of worn stairs, rising past carved
pillars of bronze.

564

You count nine hounds, tearing across the bridge – each an immense and powerful predator, shimmering with heat and flame. Virgil coolly raises a pistol and fires,
discharging a bullet at the leader. It gives a savage roar of pain, its head thrown backwards by the force of the blast. The creature’s momentum carries it forward, its broken body bouncing
and sliding across the ground. The witchfinder leaps over the smouldering corpse, dropping another of the beasts with his second pistol. As the rest of the pack close in, he quickly trades his
smoking weapons for two thin-bladed swords – their white steel glowing with holy inscriptions.

‘Come and be judged!’ Virgil dives into the pack, his swords cutting dizzying trails through the air. You hurry to join him, your own weapons burning bright with magic. It is time to
fight:

Special abilities

If you manage to defeat these fiery fiends, turn to
783
.

565

‘Well, you look better turned out than the others, so for once I’m optimistic.’ He holds up the unfinished map, with the blank space at its centre.
‘This area is known as the dark interior. Yes, predictable name, but that’s geographers for you. It’s a cratered valley that few, if any, have fully navigated. I’ve sent
four explorers there now and none have had the good will to return.’ He pauses, as if mulling over the matter. ‘They might be dead, I suppose.’

You nervously clear your throat. ‘So, you want me to complete your map?’ you assert, hoping to get the conversation back on track. ‘And for this, I get a reward?’

The man puts a finger to his ear. ‘I’m sorry, did you say . . . reward? The university not paying you enough already for this little holiday?’

‘I’m not from the university,’ you reply firmly, folding your arms. ‘But if the price is right, I’d be willing to do what I can.’

The scholar picks up his sunhat and starts fanning himself. After much muttering and grumbling, followed by several long minutes of uncomfortable silence, the man finally nods his head.
‘Humph, very well then. Fifty gold crowns up front, to help purchase any essentials you might need. I’ll double that on your return . . .
if
you return, that is.’

Your eyes are drawn to the gaping white circle on the map. It suddenly looks unsettlingly large. ‘You can trust me,’ you reply, holding out a hand for the money.

The scholar gives you 50 gold crowns. Make a note of the word
explorer
on your hero sheet, then turn to
548
.

566

‘We all Shara Sheva,’ states White Cloak, patting her chest then pointing to the rest of the pack in turn. ‘Not have names like skins. We all pack. All Shara
Sheva. That is our name.’

Your eyes scan the small gathering. ‘Do we really have enough?’ you ask candidly. ‘The hunters will be well-armed.’

White Cloak’s eyes narrow with affront. ‘Each Sheva worth ten of their skins. Shonac’s spirit burns in our hearts, not theirs. By sun fall, they will hunt us no
more.’

567

The stone plugs slide down over the outlets of lava, cutting off their flow to the forge. Virgil nods his head with approval. ‘Our hot-tempered friends aren’t going
to like that . . .’