The Heart of Fire (30 page)

The captain lands a lucky blow, felling the ant-man. He puts a boot to its squirming body as he extracts his axe blade.

‘Get moving!’ he bellows. ‘Into the tunnel!’

Within seconds you are all huddled in the tight space, breathing hard. Even the captain looks momentarily shaken.

‘What was that?’ gasps Vas, grimacing at the corpse of the ant-man.

‘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, only half remain.

‘Come on,’ growls the captain. ‘Keep it together, people.’ He grabs your arm and pushes you forwards. ‘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 cave. After several hundred metres the tunnel widens, joining a much larger
passageway which cuts left to right. A chill wind blows from the west, carrying with it a salty, stagnant odour. To the east the passage ascends steeply, heading deeper into the mountain.

187

You squat down by the fire, your gaze fixed on the old man. There is no denying that the stew smells delicious – and you are famished. But you are not ready to trust him
just yet. Your weapons stay at your side, where they can be easily reached.

‘Ah yes, this a little more civilised, isn’t it?’ smiles the old man, spooning some of the stew into a bowl. As he hands it to you there is a bone-trembling roar, reverberating
from somewhere deep inside the rock. You drop the bowl in surprise, spilling stew across the ground. Warily, you spring back to your feet, weapons in your hands.

‘What’s going on?’ you insist, craning your neck to take in the dark, high walls of the bluff.

‘Extreme sports,’ replies the old man, holding his tea cup to his lips. A sudden tremor sends more dirt and dust pluming into the cleft. The man’s tea cup shakes in his hands,
spilling tea down his coat. ‘Oh, how bothersome,’ he grimaces, putting the cup aside to brush at the stain.

You frown, confused by the man’s actions. He doesn’t seem remotely bothered by what is happening. ‘Perhaps we should investigate?’ you urge, stepping out of the way out
of a falling rock. It is accompanied by an anguished roar and a series of hollow thuds – as if something large is beating against the ground. Each one sends a tremor through the rock walls,
rattling the porcelain tea cups on their tray.

‘Very well,’ sighs the man, pushing himself to his feet. ‘But I do assure you, my master is an expert at what he does.’

There is another wailing scream.

‘Extreme sports?’ you ask, with a quizzical frown.

‘Just a little spelunking,’ he proffers with a shrug. ‘Cave diving . . . he likes the adrenaline rush.’

Suddenly there is an almighty bang as the side of the bluff explodes outwards, hurling rock and dust into the snow-drenched sky. Turn to
200
.

188

Ignoring the pillars, you focus your attacks on the giants, chipping away at their dense armour until some vital spot is revealed. It is a hard and gruelling battle, but your
determination pays off – leaving you the victor. You may now help yourself to one of the following special rewards:

If you have the word
Wiccan
on your hero sheet, turn to
354
. Otherwise, turn to
400
.

189

The narrow hold is filled with stagnant-smelling water. Rotted food, splintered wood and the occasional drowned rat bob up and down on its briny surface.

Wading through the water, you head towards a set of crates that have been roped together in a thick netting. You take a knife and cut through the top ropes, before prising open one of the
crates. Inside, resting on a bed of straw, is a circular metallic object.

‘What’s that?’ asks Surl, leaning over to take a closer look.

Tentatively, you lift the object out of the crate. On one side of the disc, engraved in the metal, is the message: ‘Handle with care!’ A roll of touch paper dangles from its
underside.

Surl’s eyes widen. ‘Oh! I know what that is! Explosives!’ He blows out his cheeks, making an impressive-sounding ‘boom’. ‘Yeah, one of them could take off the
side of this mountain.’ He points to another area of the hold, where the ropes have been cut and some of the crates have been smashed open. ‘Wonder if the gobboes got their hands on
any?’

If you wish, you may take any/all of the following items:

Finding little else of interest in the hold, you head back to the deck. Turn to
159
.

190

Anse pushes on the black-iron doors, which grate and squeal in protest as they slowly slide open.

From inside the tower a searing heat rushes out through the widening gap, like a blast from a furnace. It is accompanied by a thunderous, reverberating boom, echoing from somewhere deep in the
building itself.

‘This is surely the moment when someone suggests we turn back,’ says Polk meekly. He looks up at the cracked wall, sweeping away into the chill, white skies. ‘Anyone want to
suggest that now . . . please?’

Joss is first through the doors, an arrow nocked to her bow. Anse follows close behind, moving with a silent and careful grace. You give Polk an apologetic frown, before drawing your weapons and
reluctantly following the others.

‘Just remember, I suggested it . . .’ mutters Polk, hurrying to bring up the rear. ‘Just remember.’

As you enter the tower, several images of what you might find flash through your mind. An opulent entrance hall, perhaps, or a cold-stone chamber filled with dusty cobwebs and shifting shadows .
. .

And then your jaw hangs open, your footfalls slowing as you crane your head back, struggling to take in and understand what your eyes are seeing. Turn to
251
.

191

Candles have been placed inside a series of chalk circles, marked across the hilltop. Three of the circles remain empty. You wonder if the witch meant to complete the ritual by
adding more candles to these empty circles. Retrieving the witch’s bag, you find a dozen candles and a tinderbox inside. Perhaps you could finish this strange ritual to see what happens . .
.

Decide how many candles you will place in the sun, moon and star circles. Take each of these individual numbers, in that order, to give you a three digit number. (For example, 5 candles in the
sun circle, 2 candles in the moon circle and 3 in the star circle would give you the number
523
.)

Then turn to the resulting entry number to see if you were successful. If you fail to solve the puzzle then you have no choice but to resume your journey. Turn to
215
.

192

You take the leaves of the sagewort and grind them into a mushy pulp. This is then stirred into the liquid, turning it from white to a light-shade of green. The mixture has started to bubble and fizz. What ingredient will you add next?

193

The priest reins in his horse in a flurry of mud and water. ‘My friend!’ he gasps, his surprise mirroring your own. ‘The One God shines on us this
day.’

The feathered woman snarls, tugging a black wand from her belt. ‘It seems you have already chosen your side, Sanchen.’

‘No!’ The cry comes from Benin, as the Wiccan witch aims the tip of her wand at you. There is a blast of cold, black fire – then you are falling backwards, screaming in agony.
The last thing you remember is the rain, spearing down from the black skies, beating against your pain-wracked body. Then the light fades and a feverish darkness takes you. Turn to
338
.

194

With the ruffians defeated, you are able to snatch the coat from the chair before the half-giant barman lumbers over and grabs you by the scruff of your neck. Despite your
protests, the barman drags you out of the inn and throws you headfirst into the mud.

‘Now don’t yer come back until yer learnt some manners!’ he bellows. ‘The missus got a worse temper than me, I warnin’ yer!’ He starts to turn, then hesitates
for a moment, before looking back with a smile. ‘But good on yer. High time someone gutted that stinkin’ fish.’

Congratulations! You have gained the following item: