The Heart of Fire (58 page)

‘Some tea, Andos,’ scowls the scholar irritably, waving him away. ‘Then back to cataloguing. And see if you can’t get some driftwood – knock up a shelf or
two.’

The youth gives a dispirited mumble, before leaving to attend to his master’s needs.

The scholar tuts, shaking his head. ‘Youth of today. No respect for their elders.’ He perches on the stool, rifling through the charts and maps on the desk. After some time, you
wonder if he has simply forgotten you are there.

‘Your charts, sir,’ you enquire, shaking the crumpled papers that you are holding.

The man looks up with a start. ‘Oh yes – yes. Just file them away.’

You look down at the disorderly jumble of books and crates. Following the youth’s lead, you drop the charts and scrolls onto the nearest pile.

‘Good, now . . . let’s see.’ He lifts up a tea-stained chart, which appears to show a partial map of the jungle. ‘I hope you’re made of brighter stuff than the last
lot of miscreants. I know the university is cutting costs but. . .’ He blows out his cheeks ‘Seen more sense in a howler monkey.’

387

A sudden thought occurs to you. Opening your pack, you retrieve the heart-shaped object and offer it out to the creature.

‘My heart!’ The bear hugs the object to its torn chest. ‘The toymaker promised me a new one. He hasn’t forgotten me after all.’ The sad-looking creature turns and
shuffles back across the room, muttering to itself as it fondly strokes the object. (You can remove this item from your hero sheet.)

You have now gained the following special ability:

Bear hug (1 use)
: Instead of rolling for a damage score after winning a round, Cuddles will come to your aid. The bear inflicts 3 damage dice to a single opponent,
ignoring
armour
. This ability can only be used once, and only during this quest.

There is a dull rumbling sound as the east wall slowly swings outwards, revealing a narrow stone passageway. The bear continues to shuffle back and forth, attention focused on its new present.
Seeing your chance to escape this peculiar cell, you head immediately into the passage.

After only a few hundred metres, you come to a rusty metal door. It has already been pushed open, leaving a yellow-brown stain where it has scraped across the stone. A can of oil rests on the
floor next to it, which someone evidently used to help grease its hinges. There is still some oil inside. (If you wish you can take the
can of oil
, simply make a note of it on your hero
sheet – it doesn’t take up backpack space.) You pass through the open door, grateful that one of your problems has been solved, at least. Turn to
304
.

388

You shift position, putting your weight behind the wheel to turn it in the opposite direction. As it revolves, screeching and squealing and setting your teeth on edge, you see
that the previous portal has faded away. There is a repeated series of rumbles followed by a booming thump. Then a different portal appears, this time against the north wall.

389

The man looks up as you approach, offering you a grin filled with sharpened teeth. ‘Old one,’ he bows his head, then gives the sparring child a kick in the back of
the leg – throwing him off balance. ‘You stretch too far,’ he growls. ‘Keep feet closer. Watch enemy.’

The boy looks up at him, angrily spitting words in their strange guttural language.

The warrior scowls, cuffing him with the back of his hand. ‘You learn like others, Fran. Go, your weakness angers me.’ He takes the polished training daggers, watching as the teary
boy scampers back to his friends – a ragged band of children with dirty, scowling faces.

‘He don’t see reason for training,’ he spits. ‘Soon, we may all need to fight.’

‘I owe you my thanks.’ You smile, offering out a hand in friendship. ‘You saved my life. Gave me my freedom.’

The rogue looks down at your hand, momentarily confused. Then he slaps one of the training daggers into the offered palm. You are surprised at its heaviness – its tip weighted more than
the handle. He notes your surprised reaction. ‘I am Murlic. I teach you to fight, if you want. Fight Wiccan way.’

390

Andos rifles through the books, a sinister smile creeping across his face. ‘Yes! These are the books –
The Negra Lumaris
. Their knowledge is mine at
last!’

‘Andos?’ You back away, perturbed by his strange behaviour. ‘Is something wrong?’

He snarls, baring his teeth. ‘Andos is merely my servant, fool!’ The boy swings back his arm, drawing crackling bolts of energy from one of the open books. It pools around his fist,
the glow reflected in his maddened eyes. With a beast-like roar he hurls the ball of magic in your direction. You leap aside just in time as the missile punches into the ground, throwing up a
column of sand and smoke.

‘You cannot defeat me,’ snarls the youth, circling you with a menacing sneer. ‘I am Xenos the ever-living – and now you have granted me the power of the ancient
Lamuri!’

Quickly, you spring back to your feet and prepare to fight:

Special abilities

If you manage to defeat this magical entity, turn to
438
.

391

At the end of the passageway you see the strange child watching you, his patchwork cloak wrapped tight around his scrawny shoulders. 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 at 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 passageway starts to shake violently, throwing you to your knees. The child looks around in confusion. ‘No! The tower . . . it’s starting again . . . It wants to take
us back!’

‘Back where?’ you yell over the rumbling din. ‘You mean the shroud?’

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

392

Dark shapes lumber towards you through the white haze. At first their size and form is deceptive, their angular appearance and broad shoulders suggesting plate-armoured
knights. But as they close on your position, you realise that they are actually immense statues fashioned from onyx and crystal. They stand over ten feet tall, their giant hands chiselled flat into
hammer-like fists. As they near, black lightning starts to flicker about their mighty limbs, charging the air and making the hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

Then, as one, they rush to attack, the ground shuddering and breaking beneath their anvil-sized feet. You draw your weapons, dodging the first set of whirling fists to fly in your direction.
Weaving beneath your opponent’s legs, you launch a desperate chain of attacks against its black-stone hide. But each blow is turned away by the hard rock, leaving mere scratches rather than
deep wounds.

‘The pillars,’ one of your companions shouts above the din of battle. ‘The runes are the source of their strength!’

You must now fight:

Special abilities