The Eye of Winter's Fury (81 page)

583

You search the goblins’ bodies. Their armour and weapons are mismatched and of poor quality, possibly filched long ago from various corpses or victims. However, a few items catch your eye. The leader has a leather pouch tied around his neck. You open it up to find 40 gold crowns inside. He also has a gourd fastened to his belt, containing a
thick oily liquid. The cap on his head, while plain and grubby, has a faint glimmer of magic about it.

You may take any/either of the following items:

You turn your attention to the rock fall. Peering through the space where the goblin had his arm, you see the half-covered face of a statue peering back at you. The one visible eye is fashioned from a bright green emerald. You reach in and pull it free without too much trouble. Sadly the gemstone is chipped in several places, possibly through the goblins’ attempts to prise it out.

If you wish, you may take the
chipped emerald
(simply make a note of it on your hero sheet, it doesn’t take up backpack space.) With nothing else of interest in the cave, you leave via the tunnel. Turn to
2
.

584

A sudden lurch. You feel yourself being lifted, legs kicking through empty space. Above you, powerful wings beat against the air.

‘Stop struggling,’ hisses a voice, barely audible over the cracking, booming crescendo of splintering earth. From below, great plates of rock are thrown up into your path, whilst spinning stone and masonry whip past at speed. Somehow your winged rescuer is able to weave their way through the confusion, as if possessing some innate sixth sense.

An archway looms ahead, cut into a high wall of stone. For a moment you are headed straight for it, then an abrupt turn takes you hurtling away – just in time, as a cart-sized boulder smashes into the wall, obliterating everything in a cloud of dust.

A series of rocky ledges stream past, blurring into a dark streak.

‘Let me go!’ You grab the wrists of the creature – its claws having hold of your jerkin. Cold fire races from your fingertips, searing into its flesh. You hear a snarl of anger.

‘Let me go,’ you intone again.

Black stone rushes up to meet you. The impact is sudden and hard; one that would surely have broken every bone in your body. Instead, you feel the shudder of the impact, then the disorientating sensation that you are sliding backwards. The ground is tilting, rising up like the prow of a ship meeting the surge of a wave. Once again you try and grapple for a hand-hold, but the stone is smooth as glass. From below you, a terrible heat hammers against your body. It fills you with pain.

Wings sweep across you again. A clawed hand settles around your arm. ‘Do you want to be saved, fool?’ booms the voice.

Without waiting for an answer you are lifted up as the stone crumbles and drops away beneath you, falling into a fiery void. You are rising, wings beating either side of you, filling your head with thunder. Then you are travelling at speed along a widening crevasse, its dark walls dropping away with a menacing, grinding din. Another sickening lurch and you are ascending still further, towards a wide shelf – where you are finally released, left to roll and tumble across the rock.

You come to rest on your back, dizzy and disorientated., The demon has alighted on a nearby boulder, his silver-flecked wings folding back to reveal black-scales and runed armour.

You start to draw your weapons, then hesitate. The demon has made no move to attack you. He simply watches you, as if waiting for something.

Recognition to dawn.

‘You! You’re the one who saved me from the Wiccans.’

The demon shrugs his broad shoulders, spiked with bone. ‘A means to an end. Come.’ He flexes his wings then kicks off from the stone, gliding across a slope of rubble to another plane of rock above. As you follow him up the slope, you realise you can no longer see the sky or the ruined city; you are underground. It must be utterly dark, but your eyes can see as perfectly as day.

You scrabble after the demon, scaling the rubble to find yourself at the edge of a vast, cathedral-like chamber. The walls are perfectly smooth, rising up to form an immense multi-faceted dome above. Green light dances across the dark stone, illuminating the eight giant statues that stand silent at the centre, facing inward to where a pool of emerald radiance shimmers and dances.

You pull yourself up, looking around for the demon. His winged shadow whirls across the heads of the statues – then there is a crunch as the beast lands at the very edge of the pool. Green light dances along his curved horns, picking out the sharp bones jutting from his arms and elbows. A spiked tail flicks back and forth.

You approach the circle, passing the skeletal remains of sorcerers, their black robes curled in tatters around half-melted bone. Crystal fragments crunch underfoot, giving voice to the only sound in the silent chamber.

‘What is this place?’ You step over another body, moving to inspect the nearest statue. Each one stands over six metres tall – humanoid in shape save for the narrow sweep of their heads, curving back into immense pronged ridges. The stone is black and smooth, like obsidian, and veined with mineral hues of iron and copper. A silvery runic band spirals down from their broad shoulders, winding around their torso and limbs like a cobwebbed cloak.

Tentatively you put a hand to the surface of the stone. It is deathly cold to the touch. And yet, just like the witch’s statues, you sense a life beating deep within – weak, like a dying flame.

The statues form a circle, arms raised, palms held outwards, bodies leaning in as if pushing against an immense weight. Your eyes follow the line of their blank, staring eyes to the whirling pool of green light.

‘The Well of Urd,’ you gasp, remembering what Skoll had told you. ‘These are the Titans – they sacrificed themselves to hold back the demons, to stop them from using the well to enter our world.’ You glance back at the burnt remains of the mages.

‘A scholar, then,’ growls the demon, sounding impressed.

‘What happened here?’ You kick at one of the bones.

‘A lot of bad things,’ he replies darkly.

‘Enlighten me.’

‘Very well. Melusine used her magic – and that of her coven – to weaken the Titans. They were able to pull demons through. One in particular – Cerebris. He is the demon who is destroying the seals of Jormungdar’s prison.’ The dark angel raises his molten eyes towards the domed ceiling. ‘For six hundred years he has been growing, spreading, digging deep into the earth. His magic weakens the seals: powerful wards that the Titans and dwarves crafted an age before.’

‘Why did you bring me here?’ You step warily towards the glowing pool.

‘Are we talking in the grand sense – or for my own selfish whim?’ The demon’s lips curl back, revealing a crescent of white fangs. ‘I needed you to do one thing for me. Something I couldn’t do myself.’

In the distance you hear another tremor, tearing through the innards of the underworld. Your thoughts turn to your companions, and what may have become of them.

Anise . . .

‘You will see her again.’ The demon catches your eye.

You snarl, hands moving to your weapons. ‘Enough games! Why am I here? Answer me, demon.’

‘Demon?’ The creature snorts. ‘Not so long ago, I was just like you, Arran. Not a prince, no – but I had my humanity. What you see is through no choosing of my own.’

‘You sound like the witch! Blaming others for your misfortunes.’

The demon bristles. ‘I saved your life. Have you forgotten?’

‘I died. Did you forget that, too?’

‘I put you on the path – ensured your destiny would come to pass.’

‘Riddles!’ You tug your weapons free. ‘Tell me why I’m here!’

The demon gives a rumbling growl. ‘Because you’re special. Does that please you? No one else could have made the sacrifice. To give up everything – to pass through the eye of the storm. Without you, I would never have been able to reach the well.’

You shake your head, bewildered. ‘That’s it? You used me . . . just to kill the sentinel?’

There is another distant echo, of crashing rock and earth being rent asunder.

‘Your fate shines bright, Arran. You have a greater purpose to serve.’ The demon edges closer to the green pool, the shimmering radiance picking out the silver veins of his wings. ‘I’m simply here for vengeance. That same cold desire as you, Arran. Someone took something from me – an artefact of great power. His name is Lorcan. And this will lead me straight to him.’

‘How?’ You gesture to the stone Titans. ‘You would try and break their magic?’

The demon scoops his hand into the pool. He holds it out before him, letting the green light spill between his fingers. ‘No. The Titans’
magic is a barrier. It stops the creatures of the shroud from travelling into our world. But the magic will not deny someone achieving the opposite.’

Your mind fumbles for his meaning. ‘Wait, you mean this is a gateway – you intend to
enter
the shroud?’

The demon stretches its wings. ‘To find Lorcan, yes.’

You peer down into the swirling depths, feeling the familiar cold of the Norr rising up from its vaporous currents. It is almost enticing . . . an escape . . . freedom.

For a moment you feel your spirit being tugged towards it, joining with the chill waters, submitting to their undertow, letting them drag you down and down, back to the Norr . . . ‘No!’ You stagger back, fighting the compulsion. ‘You can’t. You’ll die.’

‘Ah, such touching concern.’ The demon forms a mockery of a smile. ‘Yes, I will die, eventually – that fate is written. And you’re going to save the world.’ His eyes fix on you with a steady gaze, so bright that the rest of his face is cast in shadow.

‘No, stay! Help me. We must stop this demon – Cerebris. The witch. I cannot face them alone!’ You resent the note of fear in your voice, but the loss of your companions and the pressing isolation of this underground realm has left you feeling suddenly vulnerable.

‘Alone.’ The demon holds your stare. ‘That is the future I have seen. If I interfere, that weave will come undone – and she will win. I cannot allow that.’

You feel your anger rise again. ‘Then go. Run – chase this Lorcan. I hope he’s worth it!’

The demon watches you for some moments, holding back an unspoken thought. Then he releases a sigh. ‘When this is done, do not pursue vengeance. Seeking to win back the throne of Valeron . . . It will not bring you peace, Arran. I am sorry.’

Rock crumbles beneath the beast’s claws as he kicks off into the air, wings beating for a brief instant – then he drops, passing from sight beneath the pool’s shimmering surface. There is no disturbance, not even a ripple to hint at his passage. For some minutes you stare at the whirling currents of light, the demon’s last words replaying in your mind.

It will not bring you peace, Arran. I am sorry.

The earth shifts and rumbles, dislodging a shower of dust from the domed ceiling. The tremor passes quickly, but it is enough to remind you of your purpose.

Turning away from the pool, you look around for the nearest exit. A jagged fissure in the nearby wall leads through into a rubble-strewn passageway. You make for it immediately, your thoughts now turned to the fate of your companions. Turn to
564
.

585

Quest: Weird science

‘Good.’ Talia reaches into her cleavage and pulls out a tight roll of parchment. She then proceeds to unravel it across the table-top, using mugs to anchor it down. You lean forward with interest, realising that it is a map – a series of floor plans, painstakingly detailed with measurements and elevations.

‘That’s the prison,’ you state, craning your neck to admire the detail.

‘Yes, it is. These are the original architect’s plans – the only copy that exists. See this,’ she taps a finger on an area of the map, where a smaller floor plan has been drawn below the main one. ‘This is a secret basement, underneath the prison. I don’t think anyone knows of its existence – certainly not Ryker or the inmates. It was even a secret to the prison guards.’

‘What’s down there?’ you ask quickly, your curiosity aroused.

Talia glances round the taproom nervously, then leans in. ‘You know how the prison break started? One of the inmates went crazy – broke out of the medical wing. Crazy enough to smash through walls, rip bars from cells, kill a lot of guards. We’re talking superhuman strength. A mutant.’

You nod, urging her to continue.

‘This prison was a front, for medical experiments. I don’t think our former king knew about it, he thought he was doing a good thing housing prisoners here, hoping they might repent their sins. But the Church had other ideas. To them, these prisoners were already damned – lost souls. They used them as meat, test subjects for various covert experiments. The chemist assigned here was Viktor Mandaleev.
He studied and taught at the University in Talanost before he was shipped to this hel-hole.’

‘He was experimenting on prisoners?’ You frown.

‘Indeed. His work had become very . . . specific. He had what some might term an obsession. To create the perfect soldier. A superhuman.’ Talia’s eyes drift back to the map. ‘That basement holds a lot of answers, and I need to get to them.’

‘Where do I fit into all this?’ You shift nervously in your seat. ‘Surely Ryker will have found and taken anything of worth; he runs the prison.’

Talia shakes her head. ‘I told you, no one else knows about this. Past the medical wing, there is a door that leads to a storeroom. That’s empty now, yes. And getting that key wasn’t easy.’ Talia breaks off, her fingers tracing a ring of fading bruises around her neck. ‘In the storeroom there’s a set of stairs – and a hidden mechanism. It opens a secret door.’ She taps an area of the floor plan where a corridor stretches away from an apparently solid section of wall. ‘So far, so good. But then Viktor left a final obstacle. A doorway warded with holy scripture. The words are part of Judah’s teaching, a canticle. I believe the only way to pass through unscathed is to recite the end of that canticle.’