When they had defeated the monsters, Horatio stepped forwards again to see what else lay behind the doors he had just opened.

On the other side of the doors, in the light from Primus’s fire spell, Horatio could see…plants?

Plants. A seething, tangled, impenetrable mass of shoots, leaves, vines, trunks and flowers–some of which had teeth.

He jumped backwards when all of a sudden one of the toothed flower-heads–a flytrap–lunged towards and snapped shut.

‘What in the name of Brax is this?’ asked Egea, looking through the doorway from a safe distance. She was clearly still in a bad mood.

‘I really would prefer it if people could try not to swear…’ Ceres said quietly.

‘This,’ said Primus, rolling up his red sleeves with his free hand, ‘is clearly my test. We have passed the warrior’s door, the cleric’s door, the thief’s door, and now we reach the mage’s door. I would appreciate it if you could all step out of the way, please, and refrain from saying anything for a few moments. I should have enough mana left...’

Horatio stepped back and out of the way of the door with Ceres and Egea. Beyond it, the mass of plant life writhed and squirmed and twisted, but it stayed behind the “thief’s door” and did not encroach upon their pebbled chamber.

Primus had gone quiet and shut his eyes, much as Ceres had done in the room with the chasm, only in this case he remained standing. He kept his small fire spell burning from his hands so they could still see in its light, but he had his palms pressed to each other, his staff clasped in between them, his brows knit together in concentration, and he was muttering something under his breath.

Horatio and Ceres exchanged another confused look.

What was coming?

Primus stayed like that for a good long while, muttering to himself.

Then, without warning, the fire spell around his hands went out, and they were plunged into thick, deep, pitch darkness.

Horatio fancied he heard a bump and a faint cry somewhere far off, but he wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not.

A heartbeat.

‘FIREAAAAAAAGGGGAAAHHH!’ bellowed Primus at the top of his lungs, his magic-word cracking and turning into a cry of what sounded like pain.

As he did so, terrifyingly bright red and orange blasted from the mage’s staff, which stood straight by itself, and outstretched hands, lighting up the cave, heating the air as it passed, and shoot inginto the chamber beyond the door.

There was a loud hissing noise like steam from a kettle and a sound something like a scream.

And then everything went dark again for a few moments.

The strong smell of burning wood assailed Horatio’s nostrils.

‘Fire…’ said Primus again, much more weakly. He sounded exhausted. A little flame appeared on his palm again, and they had light once more in its orange halo. His other hand held his staff again.

Smoke leaked through the doors in front of them into the chamber in which they were standing. No more plant matter was visible beyond them, only the stony floor of the cave beyond.

‘Wow,’ said Horatio. ‘That was quite something. You’re pretty powerful. I guess that’s how you were able to buff me to open the cave doors,’ he added in a whisper just to Primus.

‘I didn’t buff you, moron,’ Primus whispered back. ‘I don’t know any such a spell. You opened the doors yourself.’

Horatio blinked with surprise.

Primus raised his voice again for the women. ‘Yes, I can still conjure like that when I need to, but I am not the mage I once was… I have forgotten many of my combat spells… I am out of practice, and coming out of retirement to go adventuring again is a bit like having to start all over again and learn them afresh… But at least… at least I have retained my fire, as it were…’ He looked at Ceres. ‘Young Mistress, would you mind?’

‘Pardon me?’ said Ceres. Understanding passed over her face. ‘Oh! Of course!’ She reached inside her robes and took out a small bottle of ether which she gave to Primus, and he opened and quickly gulped down.

‘Ah…’ the magus gasped. ‘Much better. I can feel my mana reserves replenishing already. Come, children. That was the final test. The treasure awaits us beyond these doors!’

‘Like Hell it does!’ called out a mocking, feminine voice.

The four companions span.

Before them, at the other end of the pebble-chamber in front of the doors that Ceres had brought them to, stood a woman.

She had an oddly sullen face, with sallow cheeks and slack eyebrows, like she was permanently tired. Her hair was a very faint pink colour, so faint it was almost white like Horatio’s. She had a blue feather tucked behind one ear. All this contrasted bizarrely with her expression, which was set in a glaring look of furious hatred. She wore the unusual combination of a fur-lined outdoor coat dyed blood-red, mud-brown breeches, and bright turquoise boots, spattered with mud. Two spears criss-crossed in their places carried on her back.

‘Who in Hell are you?’ said Egea.

‘Why does everyone feel the need to swear all the time?’ said Ceres.

‘You haven’t heard of me?’ said the woman in a peasant’s accent. ‘I s’pose you might not have been around here for very long. I’m the lead freelance monster-hunter round these parts: Name’s Helen: Helen the Huntress, to you. I’ve been hunting you since Balamb, and I tracked you all the way through this cave. Now that you’ve shown me the way through to the end of it, I’m thinking I’ll be taking the treasure. If there’s any treasure in that chamber up ahead, is rightfully mine to claim.’

Ire rose in Horatio’s throat at this woman’s arrogance. He was also annoyed that she had been tracking them this whole time and he hadn’t noticed. He put a hand to his sword-hilt. ‘And what makes you think that we’ll let you claim the treasure?’

‘Well..I didn’t really,’ said Helen, with a shrug. ‘But that just means I get to have all the more fun killing you! Let me show you why they call me Helen the Huntress! My prey never gets away!’

The woman sprinted gleefully towards them, madness gleaming in her eyes, and drew the two spears from her back, thrusting them forwards.

Boss Battle: Helen!