by Maya Grace
Rowan tumbled into the wall beside her.
“Are we trapped?” asked Ella. She fought back panic as she patted the wall, searching for a gate or an opening.
The wall curved in a semicircle, and suddenly Ella wasn’t touching snow anymore. She felt wet ice beneath her palms. Through the sheet of ice, she heard something. She pressed her ear closer. Music!
It’s a window, she realized. To a house—made of snow and ice.
“An igloo!” cried Jack.
Yes! They had found her igloo! But squealing, grunting zombies were on their heels now.
“Find the door!” cried Rowan.
Ella circled the wall of snow, desperately searching for the entrance. Suddenly, the wall extended outward, a tunnel that she hoped would lead to safety. “This way!” she called.
As Rowan flew past her into the mouth of the tunnel, Ella reached back for Jack’s hand. She heard the thwack of a sword hitting a snow block behind her.
“Go!” she hollered to Jack, pushing him ahead of her down the tunnel. He fell forward into darkness. Then Ella burst through the door behind him, tumbled into the room, and hit the floor.
* * *
“Are the zombies still out there?” asked Jack. Even in the darkness of the igloo, Ella could tell he was trembling.
As if in response, the mobs thumped against the door again. The sound sickened Ella. She prayed the lock on the door would hold. Then she closed her eyes and focused on the music from the jukebox. She could almost imagine Gran humming along.
“I told you, they’re not zombies,” said Rowan somberly. “They’re zombie pigmen.”
Ella’s eyes sprang open. “Wait, what?” she said. “But zombie pigmen are only found in the Nether!”
“They’re usually found in the Nether,” said Rowan. “But they can come through portals. And when you make one of them angry, well . . . look out.” She fumbled in the dark for an overturned chair, set it back upright, and slumped onto it.
“Is that why they were chasing you?” asked Ella. “Did you make one angry?”
Rowan snorted. “Yes, I made one angry. Because I was protecting Jack. Which I wouldn’t have had to do if you hadn’t left in the middle of the night. How could you do that, Ella? How could you put us all in danger?”
Ella shrugged. “My wolf—”
“Forget your wolf!” spat Rowan. “Haven’t we lost enough already? Our flint and steel, our food, our map. And now, thanks to you, I’ve lost my sword, too. We’ve lost everything.”
“What?” said Ella. “What happened to your sword?”
“She dropped it,” Jack explained. “And a pigman picked it up.”
Ella blew out her breath. So now a zombie pigman was roaming the hillside with Rowan’s enchanted sword. Great.
“You can use mine,” she offered. “With the Fire Aspect enchantment.” She pulled it from its sheath.
But as Rowan spun in her seat, she accidentally knocked the sword from Ella’s hands. “Don’t you see? Your enchantments don’t matter!” she said. “We need food and fire more than we need an enchanted sword. It’s freezing in here, and if we can’t light a torch, we’ll have mobs crawling all over us in no time. We won’t even make it till morning.”
Jack turned to Ella, eyes wide. “Is that true?” he asked.
Ella avoided his gaze, because it was true. Rowan was right, as usual. She dropped to the frigid ground and patted around for her sword. Instead, she found a piece of splintered wood—a broken broomstick or chair leg. She crawled farther and found her sword, resting next to the furnace. So we have wood and a furnace to burn it in, but no flame, Ella thought miserably.
Something clicked in her brain—she almost heard the sound. We do have flame! She gripped her sword.
Before Rowan could talk her out of it, Ella opened the furnace door and set the wood inside. Then she tapped the tip of her sword against it and watched it burst into flames.
In the flickering light, Ella saw the surprised look on Rowan’s face—and Jack’s wide smile.
My enchantments do matter, she wanted to say. And we haven’t lost everything—at least not yet.
CHAPTER 13
In the glow of the fire, Ella examined every inch of the igloo. Broken furniture. Broken plates. A jukebox left on. What had happened in here? Had someone left in a hurry—or been forced out?
One thing was for certain: her wolf was not here.
Above the din of the jukebox, she could still hear the zombie pigmen banging against the door, searching for a way in. Then she heard a piercing howl.
Ella bolted to the window and tried to wipe away the frost. “He’s out there!” she cried. “Did you hear him?”
“I heard him,” said Rowan. “But I’m ignoring him.” She turned up the jukebox louder.
“What’s wrong with you?” said Ella. “He’s in trouble!”
Rowan gestured toward the door. “Well, if you haven’t noticed, so are we.” A thump from the other side sent the door vibrating on its hinges.
Ella turned away. She could see her wolf now, pacing on a narrow strip of ice. Water rushed all around him. He’s trapped on the frozen river! she realized. But the river was so narrow. Jump! she called to him. Jump to the riverbank! What are you waiting for?
Then she saw. The riverbank was lined with snarling pigmen. Her wolf was trapped. And the ice beneath his feet was melting—fast.
“It’s the pigmen!” Ella shouted to Rowan over the din of the music. “My wolf is trapped by the pigmen! He’s in the river—he’s so close now. We have to help him!”
She waited for Rowan to take charge—to figure out a way to fight the pigmen and get out of the igloo. But Rowan did nothing, except close her eyes and turn up the music even louder.
Ella pressed her hands to her ears. Was Rowan losing her mind? I will too if this goes on much longer.
She got right in Rowan’s face and hollered, “How long do we wait? When will they go away?”
Rowan shrugged. “In the morning, I guess. They’ll burn with the sun.” She sounded oddly calm, as if she didn’t care anymore—as if she could wait there forever.
Ella wanted to shake her cousin, tell her to snap out of it. But another glance out the window showed her that dawn would soon come. She saw a hint of light sliding over the horizon.
Jack pressed his face to the window, watching. “Will they burst into flames?” he asked.
Ella nodded. Hang on, she told her wolf. Morning’s coming. She held her breath and waited.
Sunlight crept across the hillside, setting the snow aglow with dazzling diamonds. It crept closer . . . and closer still . . .
Jack sucked in his breath. “It’s starting,” he whispered. “One’s burning! Yes!” He clapped his hands as a zombie pigman went down in a swirl of smoke and flames.
Ella celebrated silently, sending little thank yous out into the Overworld.
Then Jack lurched forward. “Wait . . . he’s coming back to life!”
Ella shook her head. “It’s not the same one, Jack. It can’t be.”
She watched as another pigman with a gold sword burned in the morning light—and then suddenly reappeared, growling and swinging his sword with rage. “It can’t be,” she said again under her breath. “Rowan, look at this!”
But Rowan wouldn’t look. She covered her eyes and hummed along to the music.
“What’s wrong with her?” Jack whispered, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know,” said Ella.
All she knew was that brave Rowan was crumbling before her eyes. The cousin who had vowed to protect her and Jack was suddenly the one who needed taking care of. And I don’t know how, thought Ella. I don’t know what to do.
She started to pace, the way Rowan would—if she were herself right now. Back and forth, back and forth, until Jack asked her to please stop.
But she couldn’t stop, because the howling had started up again.
The music blared. The zombie pigmen pounded at the door
. And Ella’s wolf was pleading with her. Do something! he called to her. Please!
Finally, Ella walked to the jukebox and shut it off with her fist. “Jack,” she said to her wide-eyed cousin, “it’s time for us to fight. We’ve got to find a way out of here.”
* * *
“We should use your bow and arrow,” said Jack. “Because the pigmen only have swords.”
Ella nodded. “Good,” she said. “Now you’re thinking.”
If only they could get above the pigmen—climb out on the roof and shoot arrows down, like Rowan had when the skeletons were climbing toward them uphill.
Ella would have asked Rowan about that, if her cousin weren’t curled up in a ball in the chair.
“Look for a way to get out to the roof,” said Ella, examining the ceiling of the igloo. “Is there a crack? Anything we can make wider and climb through?”
They searched every inch, but the ceiling of the igloo was solid—thick blocks of snow built to withstand the heat of the furnace and to keep mobs out.
Ella pressed her thumbs against her forehead and thought again. “Maybe we can go down.” She imagined digging a tunnel in the frozen ground, leading away from the igloo.
Round and round the floor she crawled, tapping here and examining there.
“What will we dig with?” asked Jack.
Ella shrugged. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Rowan’s sword maybe. It’s enchanted with Sharpness.”
“She lost that sword, remember?” said Jack.
Ella’s shoulders slumped. “Right.” For just a moment, she rested her forehead on her hands, wishing Rowan would stand up and take charge. Or that Gran were there to tell her what to do. Or that her mother could reach out from the great beyond and guide her. Help me, Mom, Ella whispered. Show me how to be brave. Tell me what to do.
“Hey!” Jack shouted. “Look what I found!” He sat beside a woven rug. Jack had slid the rug sideways, revealing something below.
A trapdoor.
“Jack!” said Ella, shaking his shoulder. “This could be it!”
They flung open the door and lit the passageway with a makeshift torch—another broken chair leg wrapped in flaming cloth.
“What do you see?” asked Jack.
Ella peered downward. “I’m not sure. I’m going to climb down the ladder a ways and look.”
Her legs shook as she started downward. She struggled to hold on to the torch with one hand, and the rungs of the ladder with the other.
“What do you see?” Jack kept calling.
“Nothing yet!” Down she climbed, until her torch revealed a small chamber. Something rectangular rested in the corner. A chest?
Beside it, Ella saw a round cauldron. And next to that?
She squealed. “Oh, Jack,” she called upward. “You’re never going to believe what I found.”
“What?” He sounded so eager, Ella worried he might tumble down the ladder on top of her.
“A brewing stand, buddy. I found a brewing stand!”
CHAPTER 14
“What should I brew?”
In his oversized apron, Jack looked like a kid playing house. Can he really do this? Ella wondered. But she kept her worries to herself.
“Brew whatever we can use to fight zombie pigmen, Jack. You’re the brew master.”
He examined the ingredients lining the shelf behind the cauldron. “Nether wart,” he said, plucking the red buds from a jar. “Gun powder. Glistering melon. Dragon’s breath!” He named the ingredients as he selected them.
“Good,” said Ella. She held the torch closer so that he could read the labels on the jars. “What can you brew with that?”
“Splash potion of healing. A lingering splash potion of healing.”
“Great!” she said. “But . . . wait, we don’t want to heal the pigmen. We want to harm them, right?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “You can’t use potions of harming against hostile mobs,” he said. “Those potions just make them stronger. You have to use potions of healing—see, those hurt zombie pigmen. Everyone knows that, Ella.”
Ella fought back a smile. “I did not know that, Jack. Thank you for telling me.”
She took a step backward, looking at Jack with fresh eyes. He was still just a kid, but he knew a thing or two about brewing—just like she did about enchantments. And they were going to need every potion and enchanted item they could find to get out of this igloo.
And to get to my wolf.
The thought of him stranded on the ice, mere yards away from the igloo, sent Ella crawling out of her skin. She tried not to think about it. She tried to focus on Jack’s potion brewing instead.
But there was nothing she could do to help him, except wait.
While a cherry-red liquid bubbled on the stand, she held her breath. “Is it ready?” she finally asked.
“Almost,” said Jack. “Hand me that bottle.”
Ella did—very gently. She fought the urge to rush Jack along. But when he finally capped the bottle, she blew out her breath. “It’s time then,” she said. “There’s only one thing left to do.”
“What?” asked Jack.
“Convince Rowan to help us,” said Ella.
If they were going to bust out of the igloo and fight a pack of zombie pigmen, they couldn’t do it alone. They needed Rowan to help them. They had to fight together.
* * *
“Rowan, we need you,” Ella said again. “Please.”
Rowan sighed. “I can’t. I tried to protect you, but I let you both down,” she mumbled. “We lost everything—food, fuel, my map, my sword. There’s nothing else I can do. I messed up.”
Ella sat back. So that’s what was bugging Rowan? She thought she’d let them down? “We haven’t lost everything,” Ella said, for what felt like the tenth time.
Rowan scoffed. “Right. We have a couple of enchanted weapons and a bottle of potion.”
“We have more than that,” said Ella. “Way more. We have each other.”
When Rowan didn’t respond, Ella tried again.
“We’re a family,” she said. “We stick together. Gran told you to protect me. And she told me to protect Jack. So that’s what we’re going to do—protect each other.”
“I don’t need—” Jack started to say.
“Shush, yes you do,” said Ella. “We protect you, and you protect us too—with your potions.”
Was that a flicker of a smile on Rowan’s face? Ella pressed on.
“We’re more than a family,” she said fiercely. “We’re a pack. You’re my pack, and I don’t want to be without you—any more than my wolf wants to be without his.”
When Rowan finally turned, her eyes glistened. She heaved a great sigh. Then she said, “Okay.” She held out her hand, palm down.
“Okay!” said Jack, slapping his hand on top.
“Okay,” said Ella, putting her hand on theirs. She squeezed tight.
So we’re really doing this! she thought, a fire igniting in her belly. We’re getting out. We’re going to save my wolf. Together.
* * *
“On the count of three,” said Rowan.
She’s back, Ella thought, watching her cousin arm her bow. As strong and fierce as ever.
Rowan held up one finger, then two.
Ella raised her sword.
“Three!”
She swung with all her might toward the wooden door and watched it burst into flames. Without missing a beat, Rowan began firing arrows through the smoke and flames. The first zombie pigman grunted and staggered backward. Thwack! Thwang! Thwang! With Ella’s enchanted bow, Rowan fired arrow after arrow. She would never need to reload. She would keep firing until the last zombie pigman fell.
“Go!” Rowan cried. “Get out of here!”
Ella raced to the window and shattered it with her sword. The broken shards of ice didn’t catch fire, but they fizzled and smoked, sending little rivers down the windowsill.
“You first. Hurry!” said Ella, hois
ting Jack through the window. He barely fit, with all the armor she had loaned him. The only armor she kept for herself was her Frost Walker boots, which she knew she would need very soon.
“Get your potion ready, Jack!”
He fell to the ground and jumped up in a flash, ready to splash any zombie who dared approach. By the time Ella crawled through, he was ready to run.
As they took off toward the river, Ella looked back at the igloo. Arrows littered the hillside, along with steaming hunks of rotten flesh. Rowan was still battling the pigmen, and she was winning.
But more pigmen lined the river, Ella knew. She could see them—feel them, bearing down on her wolf. And she was close to him now, closer than she had ever been.
Hang on, she told him. I’m coming. Hang on.
Jack spotted him first. “There!” he cried, pointing.
The wolf straddled a thin sheet of ice, wedged between the rocks at the river’s bend. He wasn’t whining or howling. He was growling, snapping his jaws at the pigmen who hovered just feet away.
“The pigmen can’t get wet,” Ella suddenly realized. “They can’t reach him in the river. They’ll drown!” But as she watched, a chunk of ice broke from beneath the wolf’s paws. Any moment, the ice was going to break apart. Then her wolf might drown too. He danced sideways, whined, and gave Ella a pitiful bark.
Her heart nearly burst. Her wolf was here, in the flesh, just yards away. He knew her. He was calling to her. He was depending on her!
“I’m coming,” she said aloud this time. “Please hold on. I’m coming!”
Ella rushed toward the river before remembering the plan. She couldn’t fight off the pigmen on her own—not with only a sword by her side. She needed Jack, too.
“Are you ready?” she called to Jack.
He set his jaw and nodded, looking years older than he really was.
I hope I am too, thought Ella. Here goes nothing.
She took the lead, charging toward the thinnest part of the herd, where only a pigman or two stood between her and the river. Then she raised her sword and struck.
The pigman stumbled backward, his mottled skin catching fire. But Ella knew the flame wouldn’t last—he would bounce back, just as the pigmen had when dawn broke this morning.
