The Heart of Fire (33 page)

211

‘My mother used to practise alchemy,’ explains Benin. ‘I know something of the art, enough for me to know where to look for answers.’ He glances over at
the manticore nervously. ‘The church at Carvel has an extensive library; I was able to find a match for the charm in a dwarven tome. When the healers at the church couldn’t save the
bishop, I knew then I’d have to fall back on the old ways.’

He looks at you imploringly. ‘The spell can only be broken by using the same reagents. And one of those is the blood of a manticore.’

The beast snorts, flapping its wings lazily. ‘Now, aren’t we a popular bunch?’

‘Please,’ begs the priest. ‘We must find out who did this. The bishop will know more, once we cure him of this curse!’

212

‘We tried,’ replies Damaris, a remembered pain furrowing her brow. ‘We went south, where the grasslands turn to dust. A hard land. The soil would not take our
crops and the hunting was poor. We were starving, homeless. The creatures there, dust devils and sand goblins, preyed on our weak, harrowing us at every turn. In the end we had no choice but to
return to the homeland, Gilglaiden. We are ready now – to do what we must to win it back.’

Turn to
126
to ask Damaris another question.

213

‘To learn the path of the mage, you need to be tested – we need to know that you have the mental strength to control the magic, to stave off the temptations that
will come your way.’

‘What temptation?’ you ask with interest.

‘Our most powerful magics come from the essence of demons,’ explains Malak. He reaches inside his coat and pulls out a pulsing blue orb. As he holds it aloft, lightning begins to
flicker around it. ‘This is my kha. It belonged to a demon once . . . but now I use it to draw power; to strengthen my magic. One day I will need to break my bond with it or else I will
become the very demon I defeated to obtain it. Tell me,’ Malak’s lips curl into a scowl. ‘Do you really think
you
can master such power?’

If you have the
prince’s seal
, turn to
288
. Otherwise, you may question Malak further (turn to
139
) or return to upper town
(turn to
77
).

214

After a tense wait, Surl and the mage return to deliver their report. As with the rest of the camp, the cabins have all been ransacked. Anything of value, including food, has
been taken. Turn to
220
.

215

The fog has thickened once again, obscuring your surroundings. Picking a direction at random, you press on through the barrows, looking for tombs that might offer up their
riches.

You haven’t travelled far before you become aware of something following you. There is the sound of padded feet. And a low, guttural growl.

You spin around with weapons drawn, hoping to catch your pursuer. But there is nothing there, only a ghostly white mist. Another growl forces you to turn again. Your breath catches in your
throat as you spot a dark shape moving towards you. The reek of damp earth and stagnant water grow stronger as the creature approaches, clawed feet crunching through the straggly grass.

Then the fog parts and you see it. A black-haired wolf of immense size, its gangly shoulders almost as tall as your own. For a moment, you are held by its glittering yellow eyes . . .

. . . and then you run.

Frantically, you sprint across the uneven ground, with no sense of where you are headed. The beast is following, close on your heels, its wet snarling the only sound in the grim silence.

Your foot catches on something – a root or a stone – and you find yourself flying forwards over the side of a steep hill. Unable to break your momentum, you tumble and slide through
the damp grass, finally crashing down onto stony soil.

You barely have time to clamber to your feet before the wolf is upon you. The stench of death is almost overpowering as a shaggy head, full of glittering fangs, fills your vision. Somehow, you
are able to push the beast away, dodging a swipe from its curved claws. Desperately you back away, hands shaking as you grip your weapons. Then your heel hits against something hard. You can feel
stone and earth pressing against your rear.

Grimly, you realise you are trapped against one of the mounds.

The dire wolf knows there is no escape. With frothy saliva dripping from its hairy jowls, the enormous beast rears back on its haunches and prepares to pounce. Turn to
11
.

216

(If you have the word
raven
on your hero sheet, then turn to
199
.
)

They call it the Pilgrim’s Road: a grand name for what is little more than a rutted dirt track, winding like a grimy smear through bleak hills and fenland. In places, it has become flooded
with stagnant water, forcing you to splash through miles of weed-choked marsh, with only the occasional marker to signify that a road lies somewhere beneath.

The cold of the land seeps into your boots – into your bones. After a tiring trek through the cloying mud, you are grateful when the track finally begins to rise, taking you into hills
crowned with straggly trees and black gorse. In the distance you see a ribbon of lights shining through the pale mist. A sign by the roadside reads: ‘Raven’s Rest – 1
mile’.

Before you can breathe a sigh a relief, you hear the snap of a twig to your left. There is a muffled curse.

Quickly, you draw your weapons, as the first of the robbers comes hurtling out of the trees – a bone-thin man wielding a rake. Behind him you see two others, similarly armed with
make-shift weapons – one holding a wooden club and the other a rust-bladed hoe.

217

Quest: The temple of Boom

You hack angrily at the wall of creepers, snarling and spitting like some enraged demon. It has taken only half a day for the jungle to reduce you to this. The searing humidity
is unbearable, soaking you in sweat and grime. It pastes your hair to your forehead, running into your eyes, down your back, tickling your neck and arms. Then there is the noise – a
chirruping, shrieking, jabbering crescendo. It comes at you from all angles, battering you with unfamiliar sounds. You’ve learnt to ignore it, concentrating instead on the wildlife you can
see. Snakes and spiders have now become commonplace, as well as the multi-legged bugs crawling through the leaf litter, some disguised to look like twigs or rocks, barely distinguishable from their
surroundings.

As you push on through the trees, your anger continues to build – anger at Virgil for sending you out here on this foolish mission, and anger at yourself for agreeing to it. To hunt a
demon, of all things.

‘How do you hunt a demon?’ you growl crossly at no one in particular. It’s not even as if there are footprints to follow or a path of burning devastation to mark the way
– anything that would give a clue. Instead, you feel utterly alone and lost, hemmed in on all sides by the thick forest.

You stop at the banks of a sluggish river, its low-water level exposing tangled tree roots. Warily, you slide down to the muddy water and fill your canteen, taking thirsty gulps of the brackish
water before tipping the rest over your head.

A flash of light. A grinning skull leers at you through a putrid green mist.

You stumble, blinking and gasping.

A pillar of stone. A courtyard, littered with bones. The winged demon strides past ruined buildings. He is staggering – wounded. One side of his body is burnt, the skin blackened and
scarred. A runed-iron box is cradled against his chest and from it you can feel an intense heat – blazing like a sun.

When you open your eyes, you give a startled cry, seeing a grinning skull staring straight back at you. Your first instinct is to draw your weapons. Then you relax. The skull is simply a carving
on the opposite bank of the river – part of a circular marker stone.

The demon is here.

Your heart beats faster. From your scars you feel a sudden, burning pain, which slowly grows in intensity, finally becoming an unbearable agony. You pull at your clothes, exposing your scarred
shoulder. The blackened bruises have now spread, covering more of your skin in glittering dark scales. They give off a sickly-black smoke, reeking of brimstone.

For an instant your rage subsides, replaced by a creeping, unsettling horror. Virgil was right – you are becoming a demon. Your body is now infected by some dark magic and unless you
defeat Cernos, you will become more like him; more like a monster.

The thought spurs you back into action, driving you into the murky waters of the river. You wade across to the opposite bank, your eyes fixed on the unsettling visage of the grinning skull. This
is your first clue – your first step on the path to locating Cernos. Turn to
249
.

218

The reverend falls to his knees, his life force ebbing away. ‘No! No! You will never have my secrets!’ He turns and, with the last of his strength, hurls a ball of
green fire at the books on the altar. The fireball smashes into the stone, the books bursting into flame. He then slumps to the ground, his flesh withering away before your eyes. Within seconds,
all that is left of the priest is a pile of bones.

Searching his remains, you find 20 gold crowns. You may also choose one of the following rewards:

When you have made your decision, turn to
275
.

219

Somehow you are able to anticipate the monster’s blows, allowing you to twist and dodge the buzzing blades and swinging chains. It quickly becomes obvious that the demon
is indiscriminate in its attacks, swiping its saws through the air in a blind frenzy. Using this to your advantage, you weave between the wooden soldiers, blocking and parrying their clumsy sword
thrusts, whilst the giant shreds them to pieces.