The Heart of Fire (75 page)

496

‘This is it!’ The monk at the table snatches up the still-wet parchment, waving it in the air. He points to the ragged traveller, who is still muttering to himself,
rocking back and forth in agitation. ‘Listen, listen!’

Everyone crowds around the table, craning forward to hear the man’s words. ‘Causeway of stone . . . where the pillars rake the sky. Causeway of death to the black place, the dark
place . . . temple . . . where the light is prisoner. The holy light of the God. The One God . . .’

You look to the others in confusion, the man’s words making little sense. However, they seem to have struck a chord with the dean. He takes the parchment from the monk, his eyes quickly
scanning the spidery writing. ‘Duerdoun. I should have known. It’s Duerdoun.’

‘The dwarf ruins,’ gasps Ventus. ‘Why would Allam go to that place? It is evil – cursed.’

The dean crumples the parchment in his fist. ‘He went there to find answers. And we must do the same.’ He spins on Ventus. ‘You should leave at first light. Do not
delay.’

Ventus bows. When he rises, his gaze meets your own. ‘I could do with your aid, traveller. Few here would be willing to walk the causeway of Duerdoun.’

Before you can respond, the dean strides forward, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. ‘If it is your wish, then I suggest you prepare. Say your prayers and gather your blessings.
Duerdoun will test the faith of even our strongest.’

If you wish, you may now return to the
map
. When you are ready to continue this quest, turn to
410
.

497

The witch raises a hand, summoning a pale green light to her palm. She leads the way as you descend deep into the mountain. ‘We thought that the traveller we found might
have had some answers. The monastery was working hard to keep his movements a secret from us.’

‘You mean the elderly man by the roadside? He looked a little crazy to me.’

‘He was,’ she replies curtly. ‘Which is why we decided to release him. He mumbled scripture and stared at walls. There was nothing to be gleaned from him. I cannot fathom why
the monastery held him in such high regard. Ah, here we are.’

The stairs bring you out on a narrow ledge, overlooking a vast cavern. Its floor dips away to form a basin, where black roots twist and snake across the stony ground, radiating out from an
ancient tree at its centre. Directly above the web of branches, a shaft of golden light breaks from the ceiling, shimmering over the tree’s gnarled boughs and coating it in dripping leaves of
light.

‘That is an elder tree – one of the sacred guardians that protects this land. We keep it alive . . . as best we can.’ Damaris leads the way around the ledge, to where a sloping
path leads down into the crater. She stops at its edge, craning her neck back to look at you. ‘You are a Sanchen. The spirits will speak to you.’

Damaris points to a cleft in the side of the tree. ‘You are of this world and the next, Sanchen. You can tread where we cannot. Now go.’ She places the palm of her hand against your
back and pushes you out into the maze of roots.

You step warily between them, noticing that several of the thicker roots seem to be trembling and shifting, as if alive. A constant creaking sound accompanies your advance. On reaching the cleft
you duck your head and pass through, pushing past grey and mottled fronds, to find yourself standing inside the hollow trunk. The golden beams spill through its upper limbs, forming a curtain of
coruscating light. Standing within this magical radiance is a woman. She beckons you with a delicate hand, her long pale fingers sparkling with jewels.

As you approach, you can’t help but marvel at the woman’s timeless beauty. Her skin is perfectly smooth, her golden hair cascading about her shoulders in shimmering ringlets of
light. Mesmerised, your eyes drift across the curves of her gown, woven from a myriad of leaves and flowers, to finally settle on the bright sword hanging at her waist.

The woman does not speak. Instead she simply takes your hand . . . and suddenly, your eyes jolt open as your mind is assaulted with images. You can’t tell if it is the future or a dream
that now races through you, but you see yourself standing on a causeway of cracked black stone. There are pillars of splintered rock and a circle marked with runes. A heavy lid is being pushed
aside. A warhammer rests on a bed of glowing coals. Your hand reaches out to touch it . . .

Light surrounds you. A blinding white light. It leads the way – you lead the way – passing through the forest of thorns, towards the voice. The voice that beckons you from the
dark.

Then you are stumbling back, frantically sucking in air as you gasp for breath. When you are finally able to recover, you see that the woman and the light have gone. In their place there is
nothing but a weathered old stone, coated with creepers and brambles. If you have chosen the path of the mage, turn to
403
. Otherwise, turn to
476
.

498

The iron golem drops to its knees, rocking back and forth dizzily. Then, with a mournful-sounding groan, it slumps backwards, its metal body ringing against the cracked
stone.

You may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:

Overcome with grief, Joss throws herself on the crumpled body of the fallen golem. ‘Adam!’ she cries, beating at its metal chest. ‘Don’t you dare leave me. Don’t
you dare!’

You move to her side, putting a hand to her shoulder. ‘We have to go.’

‘No!’ The word is spat out like venom. Joss turns and pushes you away, her face twisted with rage. ‘You killed him! You killed my Adam!’

You shake your head, backing away. ‘There was no choice . . .’

Suddenly, you hear a grating rumble coming from behind you. Sparing a glance over your shoulder you see the chasm has now expanded, cleaving the hall in two. As its crumbling edges slide away
from each other, you see a yawning whirlpool of darkness below. It is starting to suck everything towards it – dragging the broken hall down into some infernal abyss.

‘We have to get out of here!’ you cry, moving towards Joss.

The woman backs away, still quivering with rage. ‘You— You killed him! How could you?’ With an inhuman scream, she springs at you. The ground lurches, throwing her off course
– her momentum taking her kicking and screaming over the edge of the chasm.

‘Joss!’ You try and grab hold of her, but it is too late. The woman tumbles away through the black void, rapidly becoming just another floating speck that is caught up in the
fast-spinning currents. (Make a note of the keyword
blood debt
on your hero sheet.)

The floor starts to tip dangerously. You try and scrabble for some kind of a hand hold to stop yourself slipping away. Then you see a pair of white boots walk into view. You look up to see Anse
standing over you. The paladin is breathing heavily, but appears to be unharmed. ‘Time to go,’ he says, offering out his hand. You take it, holding onto him for support as you struggle
back to your feet. Turn to
469
.

499

Bill opens a trunk and lifts out a blue crystal dagger and a black-bladed cutlass, its hand-guard embedded with rubies. ‘If these beauties don’t take your fancy
– and you have the way about you – perhaps this might interest you instead.’ He flips open a basket with the toe of his boot, revealing an emerald-scaled snake, coiled on a bed of
straw. ‘A taipan. The true king of the jungle.’

You may now choose one of the following special rewards:

Bill also hands you a purse, containing 100 gold crowns. After making your exchange, you bid the hunter farewell and leave. You may now explore the rest of the camp (turn to
744
) or return to the quest
map
.

500

You decide to make for the river, hoping it will provide an easier and more navigable route through this tangled forest. Thankfully, it isn’t long before you find
yourself crunching across its pebbled shore – the roiling, murky water rushing past at speed, carrying logs and other debris downstream.

As you head along the river, you see a ramshackle cabin at the edge of the treeline. Next to it is a raft and paddle, pulled up onto a bank of gravel. You approach, suddenly excited by the
prospect of some friendly company. However your steps soon falter when you hear angry mutterings coming from inside the cabin, punctuated by outbursts of high-pitched, manic laughter.

501

The climb is harder than you anticipated, but with patience and perseverance you finally reach the ledge. You pull yourself onto the overhang to discover a smaller shaft
sloping away into the rock. Intrigued by your find, you drop onto all fours and squeeze through the narrow gap. After several minutes, you find yourself facing a dead end – where the skeleton
of an explorer rests with his back against the rock.

You crawl over to the body and search the remains. As well as a purse containing 50 gold crowns, you also find any/all of the following items:

You also find a crumpled map, tucked into the pocket of his dirt-stained jerkin. It looks to have been torn in two, the half you are holding showing a trail to a section of coastline. Without
the other half, it makes little sense to you. (You may take
Coronado’s map
if you wish – simply make a note of it on your hero sheet. If you also have
Frobisher’s
map
, then keep a record of this entry number and turn to
606
.)

There are no apparent clues as to why the explorer crawled into this space – perhaps to escape the skitters, you surmise, or to rest after suffering a wound. Whatever led him here, that
knowledge died with him. You place the compass in the skeleton’s outstretched hand, then head back to the ledge.

There is no sign of the others when you climb down into the cave. Quickly, you hurry along the tunnel they took, but it soon branches into an infuriating maze. You call out, but the only answer
is your own voice – echoing back – each call more desperate than the last. You follow the twisting tunnels, taking one turning after the next, but each choice always seems to lead back
to the cave. Grey-hair was true to his word – the tigris have continued onwards and left you behind, keeping their passage a secret. With no chance of catching them up, you head back through
the caves and into the forest. Return to the quest
map
to continue your journey.

502

Tearful with pain, you rub at the smarting inscriptions that have been branded into your skin. The abbot seems indifferent to your suffering. ‘Words are more powerful
than weapons, child. Use them wisely.’

If you choose
not
to equip a main-hand or left-hand item, then your ‘bare hands’ provide you with the following: