The Dragon: An Official Minecraft Novel
Page 2
“Zetta!” came Rift’s voice from back near the chicken coop.
She turned and saw her best friends, twins Rift and Rayne, sauntering back from a day trip out on the hunt. Rift was dressed head to toe in green leather armor he’d crafted himself from the pelts of rabbits. His black hair stood up in spikes, which he got to stay that way by slathering on several handfuls of green slime gel each morning. An ever-present lopsided grin often meant he was up to something.
Rayne wore a simple white tunic, with a lime green scarf draped around their neck and a quiverful of arrows slung across their back. Zetta could tell that her friends had had a successful zombie hunt. She could smell the rotten husk flesh they’d collected from where she stood.
“Hey, Rift! Hi, Rayne,” she shouted, then suddenly remembered her promise to her cousin. Ugh. This was going to be awkward.
Rayne pulled a couple bones from their inventory and tossed them to Ashton. “Here—for the crops,” they said, before brushing their sleek black hair from their eyes. Zetta didn’t understand how Rayne could be so great of a shot with a bow with that thick curtain of hair constantly obstructing their vision all the time.
“Thanks, Rayne!” Ashton said. “Zetta, are you going to ask your friends about me hunting with you, or what?” The excitement in his words caused Zetta’s stomach to turn.
“Hey, kid,” Zetta said in a chipper voice. Totally fake. She knew she sounded insincere, but she couldn’t turn back now. “You know, I saw that a few of the torches are out over on the far side of the farm, over by the silo. Maybe you can go check them for me? Replace them if necessary. Wouldn’t want any husks spawning in town.”
Ashton frowned. “You’re just trying to get rid of me, aren’t you!”
“No, I—”
“You can’t send Ashton off to the far side of the farm by himself,” Rift intervened, a sly smile on his face. “What if he runs into killer rabbits out there or something? He’s way too young.”
Ashton perked up. “I’m old enough. I go out there all the time. I’ll check on the torches. And if I do run into any killer rabbits, I’ve got this.” He pulled out a stone sword and waggled it around. If there was one thing that got Ashton excited, it was make-believe creatures. The kid certainly had an overactive imagination, and right now, Zetta could almost see the adventure churning in his mind. “I’ll be right back!” her cousin shouted.
The sun had nearly set now, and the mobs would be coming out in full force soon.
“Ashton wants to come hunt mobs with us tonight,” Zetta whispered to her friends.
Rayne quirked a brow. “He’s old enough, I think. I don’t have a problem if he comes along this time. I’ll keep him safe.”
Rift nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
Zetta shook her head. She’d thought her friends would put up at least a little bit of a fight. “But it’s so dangerous out there. Especially after what happened to his parents…”
Everyone remembered what had happened to Ashton’s mom and dad. They were both miners, taking long day trips toward the Great Rift, an enormous canyon that ripped through the desert like a mile-long scar. At the bottom ran a stream of burbling lava. And deep, deep down the sheer cliffs, there were exposed veins of ore—gold, iron, diamonds—tempting the brave to seek out their fortunes. Ashton’s parents had gone out on that adventure, but they’d never returned. It had left a scar running through their family, one just as deep as the canyon.
“I’m back!” Ashton said, panting. That kid was ridiculously fast. Sweat glistened against his forehead. “Did you ask them?”
Zetta laid a hand on Ashton’s shoulder. “I did. We all think you’re still a bit too young. But soon. Really soon, okay?”
The sad look Ashton gave Zetta made her wish she really were invisible. She knew how much this had meant to him. She grimaced, watching as he trudged away, kicking aimlessly at loose pebbles in the dirt. He was mad. Disappointed. But he’d be safe here.
“Come on, let’s go,” Zetta said to her friends before they could make a big deal out of her lie. In Sienna Dunes, family was everything, and they knew better than to insert themselves into family business. “We’ve got some mobs to hunt.”
CHAPTER TWO
The three friends hopped the terracotta wall. Past it were a few torches that lit up an old wooden sign warning that they were about to cross into hostile mob territory. But Zetta wasn’t afraid, not with Rayne’s bow at the ready. Rift and Zetta carried stone swords as well, though they were of questionable durability. Stone was hard to come by without digging down deep past the sand, which carried the ever-present threat of a collapse. Wood was even more scarce, so anytime the friends spotted a dead bush poking out of the ground, they scavenged it for sticks, even if they had to walk a little out of their way.
It wasn’t long before Zetta heard the skitter of spiders close by, several sets of red eyes peering through the dark. So creepy. So useful. Gathering potion ingredients took a lot of time and effort, but Zetta was glad her friends were here to support her because there was no way she could do this on her own.
“I got this one,” Zetta said, her grip on her sword tightening in her sweaty hand. She’d killed dozens of spiders, but it never got easier. She approached it with one eye open, her arm trembling as she swiped her sword through the giant eight-legged body. The spider jumped back, unfazed by the damage it suffered, and it surged toward Zetta, fangs bared.
“Need some help?” Rayne offered, bow raised.
“No, save your arrows for the creepers,” Zetta shouted back, taking another swipe at the spider and missing this time. She wished that she could say she was better at potioning than at fighting, but honestly, it was a toss-up.
The spider got too close and bit her. Ouch. Not bad—just a nip in the elbow. She was more embarrassed than hurt. Now this was a matter of pride and vengeance. She readied her sword. Rift was next to her now, his sword drawn as well.
“I can show you how it’s done,” Rift said, nudging Zetta out of the way.
“Nuh-uh,” Zetta said, pushing back with her sore elbow. She winced. “This is my spider, and besides, weren’t you the one I had to save from an armor stand last week when you were trying to use it for target practice?”
“It was a very aggressive armor stand,” Rift said in his defense. “And it had better gear than I did.”
Zetta and Rift took a swing at the spider at the exact same time. Rift made contact and the creature vanished into a puff of smoke right as Zetta’s sword was about to hit it. Instead, her swipe cut straight through the air, and she continued spinning until her sword nicked Rift in his shin.
Rift fell to the ground and started hissing, grabbing his shin and rocking back and forth.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said.
“I’m so sorry,” Zetta yelled. She stored her sword away and kneeled next to her friend. “Are you bleeding?”
“Nah, luckily your blade is dull as dirt. We really need to keep an eye out for stone so I can craft you a new one.”
“Who needs hostile mobs when I’ve got you two?” Rayne said, coming over to look at the carnage: one badly bruised shin, two badly bruised egos.
Zetta helped Rift up. She watched closely as he took a few tender steps.
Zetta winced. “If it hurts that bad, maybe we should turn back. We can’t have you hissing like that all night.”
“I’m not hiss—”
They all looked around, suddenly aware just how dark it had gotten. Not four feet away stood a creeper on four petite feet, its mottled green skin already flashing brilliant white. The creeper tilted its head, looking Zetta dead in the eyes, like it was taunting her.
“Run!” Rayne said.
And Zetta tried. She really tried, but she was petrified. She’d never been this close to a creeper before, but she’d seen the destruction they
caused. Craters ten feet deep and fifteen feet wide. Rift was screaming her name. He sounded far away. Had he left her standing here, or was it her panic making everything sound tinny and distant?
Before Zetta could summon another thought, Rayne bravely raised their bow and unleashed an arrow that hit the creeper square in the chest, knocking it back. Another well-placed arrow poofed the creature for good. All that remained was a pile of gunpowder. Five minutes ago, Zetta would have been thrilled to obtain this ever-elusive ingredient that she could use to make splash potions, but now she was just filled with terror.
Rayne retrieved the gunpowder and offered it to Zetta. She took it, but she couldn’t look her friend in the eyes. “I nearly got us all blown up,” she muttered. She imagined what could have happened if her cousin had been here, too, and a shiver ran through her.
“Not on my watch,” Rayne said confidently. “Admittedly, we could work a little better together, but we’re all safe. Do you have your brewing stand on you?”
Zetta nodded and patted her pack. She always kept it handy. She never knew when a potioning emergency might pop up. Plus, she didn’t want to risk her dad finding it in her bedroom.
“Cool, then let’s see how these splash potions you’ve been talking about work.”
“Now? Out here?” Zetta asked.
“I know a safe place,” Rift said. He led the friends farther away from town, steering clear of husks, with their dried-out skin and slow, shuffling feet that dragged through the sand. Their moans punctured the quiet of the night. Finally, after nearly an hour, the Great Rift came into view, ripping through the desert.
Zetta’s heart sped up in her chest. She’d never been this far away from town, but she could tell why adventurers were so enamored with the massive ravine. It was absolutely beautiful. The sheer drop bore sand and sandstone toward the top, but it turned to gray stone beneath, and as it plunged even deeper, Zetta could just make out some light blue ore near the lava stream at the base.
“Are those diamonds?” she asked, so excited and nervous and curious that it felt like her fist was in her throat. She’d been mining terracotta for almost six months now, and had never stumbled upon anything except coal and iron. Any ore they found was rushed off to the town vault, but miners did have rights to keep the first block of ore found in a vein of at least four blocks. Zetta imagined calling “First rights” on a diamond vein. She must have gotten too caught up in the fantasy, because now Rayne was pulling her back from the cliff edge.
“Careful,” Rayne said.
“Check that out,” Rift shouted, pointing at the cliff face. Jutting out from the wall of the ravine was an ancient structure that looked as if it had been half swallowed by sand. The moonlight caught just right against pale sandstone adorned with terracotta. “It’s a desert pyramid,” he said.
“We’re not going down there, are we?” Zetta asked.
“No way. Much too dark in there. Much too dangerous. But it’s pretty to look at from afar, yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Zetta. Mostly still at a loss for words. The ravine was an achingly tender spot for her family because it had spelled doom for Ashton’s parents, but she knew that it was a source of pride for Rift’s. He was named after it, in fact. This was where Rift and Rayne’s parents had first met, decades ago now. One of them from Sienna Dunes, and the other from a band of nomads that traveled the desert, trading their wares. They’d set up camp on the other side. It was a tale that was way too mushy for Zetta’s liking, but it helped her to feel appreciation for the beauty out here, sitting right below the pain.
The friends settled onto an outcropping at the cliff’s edge, which gave them protection on three sides. Rift took out his crafting table and fashioned a quick sandstone wall to keep any other mobs from sneaking up on them. When he was done, he crafted a campfire, then Rayne tossed some raw rabbit on it. The smell of cooking meat immediately made Zetta’s mouth water.
While it cooked, she set up her brewing stand. Zetta dug through her pack for ingredients, but things were sparse. She hadn’t gotten the sugar for the swiftness potion. All she had were a couple of fermented spider eyes, the spider eye from their ill-fated kill from a couple hours ago, a sickly-looking carrot, a gold ingot, a whole heap of nether wart that she’d scrimped and saved for all summer, and some gunpowder, finally. Zetta was more than eager to try it out.
“I’ve got a rabbit’s foot on me if you want to make one of those leaping potions,” Rayne said, dangling a foot out for Zetta to take.
“No, no thanks,” Zetta said quickly. She grimaced. As much as she loved eating rabbit, those little feet creeped her out like nothing else. She couldn’t understand how people kept them for luck. After all, they hadn’t been lucky for the rabbit.
“You’re sure?” Rayne asked.
“A leaping potion on the edge of a giant ravine is probably a bad idea. I can make a splash potion of poison,” Zetta said. It shouldn’t be that hard. Most of the exciting potions required ingredients that were difficult to come by. She knew there were such rare finds in the town vault, but Mayor Maxine wouldn’t allow Zetta through those enormous, piston-operated doors no matter how much she begged and pleaded. The doors were thick, made from iron blocks, and a key was required for them to open, with technology much more advanced than anything else in the town. Sometimes Zetta had dreams about those doors and what treasures were to be found on the other side of them.
So without the mayor’s help, it’d taken Zetta months and months to find someone who had a blaze rod to trade so she could have Rift craft her this brewing stand. Everything she’d learned about potioning so far had been hearsay and rumors, mostly from Reed, the guy who ran the bookshop. Sometimes he spoke to her about such things, wistful for the days when his library held books with actual knowledge. Now he sold book titles such as 101 Things to Do with Sand and How to Raise a Happy Potted Cactus and 101 MORE Things to Do with Sand.
There were no written recipes for Zetta to go by, so the exact amounts and proper brewing times were all guesses on her part. Still, she was eager and willing to experiment, even if it meant her experiments tended to go a little wonky.
“Yeah, I could toss a couple poison potions at some hostile mobs and see how effective they are,” Rayne offered.
“Weren’t you trying something with invisibility?” asked Rift. “If we stand close enough together, the splash potion could work on all three of us. Think of the mischief we could get into around town.”
“You get into enough mischief as it is,” Zetta said. Rift was a bit of a prankster, on a mission to annoy every single citizen of Sienna Dunes with his mostly harmless tricks. With the town having a population of 325, it would take a while, but he’d yet to be detected. Rift had done thirty-seven pranks so far (that Zetta knew of), things like installing a hopper under the furnace in the mess hall so that all the food disappeared into it when cooked. He’d rigged an armor stand dressed in a creeper’s head to jump out of Rayne’s closet. (Rayne was still a little sore about that one.) And perhaps his best one so far was rigging the pressure plate on the mayor’s office door to play an annoying tune on a hidden jukebox. It took them nearly a whole day to find the source of the awful music.
Rift hadn’t pranked Zetta yet, though, which kept her on edge. He’d tried a few times, but Zetta had always caught on to it. She couldn’t let her guard down around him. He was brilliant, and a great friend. If only he would use his crafting skills for good…
“Pretty please?” Rift asked, batting his eyes at her.
“I made a few invisibility potions last night, but they have some issues…” Zetta said. She wasn’t sure where she’d gone wrong, though then again, the potion had mostly worked. Maybe with a few tweaks she’d get it right this time. “But I can try again, if you promise not to prank me. Ever.”
“You know I can’t promise that,” Rift said. “That’s like ask
ing me not to breathe. But how about I keep you supplied with redstone for the rest of the month?”
Rift did have a nice stash of redstone that he was learning to incorporate into his crafting, and she knew how precious it was to him. A little pile of redstone dust would stretch Zetta’s potions out and make the magic effects last longer. It wasn’t a bad deal at all, except for the fact that Zetta would eventually come up on the wrong end of one of her friend’s pranks, and from the sparkle in his eyes, she knew it was going to be a big one.
“Fine,” Zetta mumbled.
Rift handed her three piles of sparkling red dust. “First installment. Use it on my invisibility potions.”
“My invisibility potions,” Zetta corrected him. “You just get to bask in their aura.”
Rift grumbled. “Whatever, just get to brewing.”
Zetta spread her ingredients out before her. Nervousness gripped her. She hadn’t even gotten a regular invisibility potion done correctly, and now here she was, adding more ingredients. She pulled out the fermented spider eyes, and everyone gasped at the smell.
“It’s like a rotten egg and a soggy sea pickle got into a fight,” Rift said, pinching his nose.
“Do you even know what a sea pickle smells like?” Rayne asked, looking skeptical.
“No, but I’ve got an active imagination, unlike you,” Rift bit back.
“ ‘Overactive’ is more like it,” Rayne mumbled to themself. Then the twins exchanged deep menacing scowls. The only time they ever really looked alike was when they were mad at each other.
“You get used to the smell,” Zetta said, cutting through the tension and pretending to be chill about the whole situation. Pretending like she knew what she was doing. She set her three water bottles in the brewing stand, and moments later, the whole contraption started to spit and bubble. Was the water ready for the nether wart yet? Did it matter if she put it in hot versus cold? She dumped the warts in, a whole fistful, and waited. If there were any hostile mobs still lurking out there in the dark, the scent of this potion wafting through the crisp air certainly would turn them away.