The Eye of Winter's Fury (51 page)

‘None,’ says the trainer, looking back at you with his tight white
smile. ‘You should be dead. Henson, give him a sword. A proper one.’

The soldier does as he is told, taking a steel blade from a nearby stand and tossing it toward you. As you snatch the grip deftly from the air, you find yourself marvelling that you can actually lift it. Back at the palace you had always struggled with even the lightest of blades, wearing your tutor’s patience thin. But now it feels perfectly weighted in your hands. You make a few cutting motions through the air, hearing it zing.

I might even get away with this.

‘Big fella, aren’t we?’ snaps the trainer, circling around you. ‘What training you had?’

You stammer for an answer, feeling the grins and side-glances from the other soldiers. ‘I was a bodyguard,’ you lie. ‘Life has been my teacher, sir.’
Yes, that sounds good.

‘Rutus!’ The trainer calls to one of the soldiers. He steps forward, a young man about your age, short but strong, his muscles glistening with sweat from the morning’s sparring. ‘Get a sword and show this one what life has to teach us, sir.’ He calls out the last word in a mocking tone.

You glare at him angrily, feeling something stir in the pit of your stomach, a roar that you want to release. For a brief moment you sense the bear from your dream, somehow by your side, urging you on, filling you with his strength.

The guard comes at you fast, cutting his blade through the air with no fear of the consequences. His first strike knocks your sword from your grip, followed quickly by a boot to the groin. You find yourself rolling in the dirt, gasping in pain.

There are hoots of laughter from the soldiers. Rutus spits into the dirt, then raises his arms in victory. ‘That’s life,’ he shouts, to more applause.

With a look of undisguised disgust, the trainer heaves you to your feet. ‘Get back at him,’ he hisses through his teeth. ‘At least make a fight of it.’

You grab your sword as Rutus turns to face you. ‘Oh, you want another kicking, dog? I’ll give you one!’

He charges again, coming at you side on, looking to simply barrel through you and take you down. But this time you are ready for his attack and refuse to be humiliated once again. It is time to fight:

	Special abilities
	Training yard : You cannot use any special abilities in this combat.
	I yield : Once Rutus is reduced to 10 health or less, roll a die at the start of each combat round. On a roll of or more, he yields to you, winning you the combat. Otherwise, the combat continues as normal.

If you manage to defeat this skilled soldier, turn to
147
. If you lose the challenge, turn to
258
.

349

You manage to wrestle free of the growth, dropping back to the ground with half of the decayed skeleton on top of you. Desperately, you kick it away, the jaws still snapping hungrily from its mouldy innards.

‘In future, look and not touch,’ says Anise, her back pressed against the wall.

‘Agreed.’ You clamber back to your feet. As you do so, you notice a small metal box lying in the dirt. It must have come free when you pulled the body down. The box is heavy, despite its size, made from a cobalt-blue steel. Cracking open the lid, you discover several stubs of flint inside. When the flint is struck against the steel, it creates a spark – ideal for lighting fires.

You have now gained
flint and tinder
(make a note of this on your hero sheet, it doesn’t take up backpack space). Using your newfound item, you quickly set to work, lighting the candle inside the lamp you found. (Replace the keyword
lamp
with the keyword
flame
on your hero sheet.) Stepping carefully around the remains of the skeleton, you press on into the tower. Turn to
366
.

350

The fight is a panicked frenzy – mostly spent dodging the yeti’s powerful arms as they are swung back and forth looking to hit anything in range. You manage to land a few lucky blows, as do your companions. Eventually, after a tiring ordeal, the beast staggers then slumps to the ground, the tar steaming off its arrow-riddled body.

You immediately hurry after Henna, who is running to where Mitch was thrown. When you catch up, the knight is already turning away, shaking her head. You look past her to the crumpled body.

The boy is dead. Killed either by the Yeti’s attack or the rock that broke his skull. There is no bringing him back.

‘Ah, that’s a shame,’ sighs Kirk, talking as if it was an everyday event. ‘We’ll get him on the cart. Take him back once we’re done.’

You bow your head, tortured by the knowledge that it was your decision that led to this.

‘Don’t let it worry you. Accidents happen out here.’ Kirk hands you a knife. ‘Least take a trophy home.’ He jerks a thumb in the direction of the shore. ‘Might be tarred, but that’ll only make it warmer, eh?’

If you wish, you may now take the following item:

Tarred shoulders

(cloak)

+1 speed

Ability: charm

Make a note of the keyword
resolve
on your hero sheet. Then turn to
263
.

351

The size of the depression immediately puts you in mind of the statue that you found in the birdman’s eyrie. You take it out of your pack and push the statue’s base into the angular hollow (remove the
stone dragon
from your backpack). There is a loud click as it drops into place, fitting
the hole perfectly. The eyes of the dragon start to flicker, then settle into a pale green glow.

The ground shudders. You grip the pedestal, sure that you are experiencing another quake. A second tremor rattles you, vibrating through the stone and the bronze circle you are standing on. Then you hear a thud, the whistle of something moving fast, a clatter of metal then a dull rumbling coming from somewhere below.

Your stomach gives a sickening lurch as the bronze platform starts to lower, scraping and squealing against the accumulation of dust and grime. It drops quickly, taking you down into a shaft of smooth stone. After it has gone fifty metres or more the platform grinds to an abrupt halt. It continues to judder violently, screeching in protest as if seeking to break through some form of obstruction.

You look around at the shaft. The walls are smooth, making a climb back to the cave impossible. Then your eyes alight on an opening to your left, where the platform meets the rock. You scramble over to it, realising that it is the entrance to a passageway, but whatever is obstructing the platform is stopping the lift from lowering far enough to make it properly accessible. There is a chance you could squeeze yourself through the tight opening.

As the thought comes to you, the lift shakes and then starts to rise, taking you back up to the cave.

352

Your enchanted weapons draw shrieks of agony from the ghost-like shapes. With each frenzied strike the incessant wind appears to grow a little weaker, until you are finally able to stand your ground, cutting through the mist and stilling its wail to silence.

After taking a moment to recover from your ordeal, you press on into the mountain.

Further along the tunnel you discover a body sprawled on its stomach. The creature appears humanoid, covered in a thick, bristly
white fur. A fallen stalactite has pinned it to the ground, having passed straight through its lower torso. Blood stains the ice.

With a mighty shove you manage to push the body over, surprised to discover that the creature is a giant ape. In life it would have stood a head taller than you, its shoulders at least twice as wide. There are ugly scars cutting across its face – one eye-socket is empty, displaying only a blackened hollow.

You lean closer, looking for anything that might explain its origins. There is evidence of some advanced intelligence – a sparkling ring adorns one finger, while a dented chest plate is attached by threaded sinews around the beast’s neck and waist. Your hand settles around the broken stalactite, pulling it free. There is some dark magic still coursing within the ice. If you wish, you may now take one of the following items:

You also spot a glass sphere, resting on the ground nearby. Purple flames are trapped within it, crackling and sparking as they pulse with energy. (If you wish to take the
shadow orb
simply make a note of it on your hero sheet, it does not take up backpack space). When you have updated your hero sheet, turn to
220
.

353

(If you have the keyword
fractured
on your hero sheet, turn immediately to
58
.)

The library is almost as impressive as the one in the royal palace. You believe you may have finally found a home away from home – somewhere you can be alone . . .

‘Ugh! What’s that terrible stink?’

You spin round, to see a young boy seated at one of the tables. You
hadn’t spotted him before, hidden behind a stack of books. Several lie open in front of him, their neat rows of runed glyphs sparkling against the yellowed parchment. ‘You smell worse than Brack, and that’s saying something.’

The boy looks no older than thirteen, dressed in plush green robes trimmed with white fur. His face is narrow and pale, dominated by a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles resting on the end of his nose. He continues to glare at you, with a look of obvious distaste – as if you have invaded his own personal space and he wants you to leave.

354

The last Skard falls back into the snow, blood seeping from his many wounds. You stand over him, noting that he is the white-haired warrior who Gurt referred to as Aslev.

He bows his head, as the others have done.

You put your weapon to his neck, then lift his chin. ‘You will bow to no one. Come with me.’

He shows his teeth in warning. ‘We gave our word,’ he hisses. ‘You cannot go back. You will shame us!’