“Er-Lan sees rainbows.” The zombie sounded stunned as he shuffled through the hard-packed snow.
Planter gasped at the beautiful sight. “Watcher . . . you seeing this?”
Watcher nodded.
“Come walk next to me.” Planter’s voice was soft and melodic, like beautiful music. She glanced at him and gave a welcoming smile that was more than just that of a friend.
What’s that supposed to mean? Watcher’s thoughts bounced around his head as he tried to understand the meaning of her invitation . . . and that smile.
Moving to her side, Watcher felt as if fireworks were going off inside his chest. He and Planter walked side-by-side, their footsteps crunching through the snow in a synchronized beat, crunch . . . crunch . . . crunch . . . crunch. Occasionally, their hands brushed against each other.
Was that on purpose? Watcher contemplated the meaning of the passing touch as if it were an enemy’s battle strategy, but he couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not.
She pointed with her enchanted golden axe at the vibrant display. “Look at the color.” Her voice was high-pitched with excitement.
Watcher nodded and glanced at her. Some of the multicolored light was shining down upon Planter’s wonderful long blond hair; it made him smile. “Yeah . . . I see, it’s spectacular.”
A gentle snow started to fall, the crystalline flakes gracefully dancing on the breeze as they fluttered to the ground. The snowfall seemed to still the biome into a peaceful quietude, the sound of their feet breaking through the snow the only noise to be heard.
Maybe I should say something to her now. Watcher glanced around at his companions; everyone seemed preoccupied with the colorful display. Waves of fear crashed through him, tearing away at his courage. I must do it . . . now.
But before he could act, Cutter spoke up.
“When we’re done finding a witch and saving Fencer, maybe we can build some ice sculptures.” Cutter’s voice boomed through the silence like a hammer through glass. His iron armor clanked as he walked faster, pushing his way between Planter and Watcher. “I bet if we built a tall ice spike of our own; it would really break up the sunlight.”
“That would be fun.” Planter gave the big warrior a smile.
Watcher’s heart sank. He scowled at the big NPC, but Cutter didn’t notice.
Did Cutter just move between us so he could be closer to Planter? Jealous thoughts spread through the dark parts of his soul as Watcher tried to understand why his friend would do something like that. It was probably nothing.
“First, we have to save Fencer,” she added.
“Of course,” Cutter said. The big warrior smiled at her.
For the first time, Watcher noticed Planter staring back at the hulking NPC. It was as if she were noticing him for the first time, much like how Watcher had recently noticed Planter as something more than just a childhood friend.
“I doubt we’d have time to play around with ice, Cutter.” Watcher scowled. “After we save Fencer, we still need to rebuild our own village, then we’ll likely need to construct some defenses for the village. I don’t want another monster army to flatten our homes to the ground again. We’ll be way too busy to play with ice.” He glared at Cutter, but the big NPC was oblivious to his stare.
“Hey, we’re just talking here,” Cutter glanced down at the boy. “Lighten up a bit.”
“Wow, Mr. Serious is telling the daydreamer to lighten up.” Blaster laughed as he chimed in. “This is quite the role reversal.”
Planter laughed along with Blaster, and even Cutter smiled. But not Watcher.
“I don’t need to lighten up a bit.” Watcher was now getting angry. “We have a lot of work ahead of us, and we need to stay—”
“It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it.” Cutter’s voice had a tone of finality, signifying the conversation was over.
Why am I having this argument? Watcher searched his thoughts. Was I wrong? Cutter and Planter and the whole situation dominated his thoughts. Why does it all seem so confusing?
An uneasy silence spread across the group; they could all feel Watcher’s tension. As an attempt to change the topic, Watcher moved next to Fencer’s mother.
“Saddler, have you ever been in this biome?” Watcher asked.
The woman shook her head, her long, black ponytail dancing about on her back. “I was born in that savannah village and had never left before today.”
“You mean, you’ve never gone out and seen the different biomes in the Far Lands?” Mapper sounded shocked.
They curved around a steep pile of ice, the translucent cubes almost taking on a diamond-like appearance in the morning light. Watcher and Saddler walked in lock-step.
“When I was born, the wall was already there.” Saddler sighed. “This is the first time I’ve ever been out of the village.”
“Well then, to see your first ice spikes biome must be a treat,” Mapper said.
She nodded. “It is. I never imagined anything so spectacular.”
“Saddler, can you tell us why your village has sworn off violence?” Mapper asked.
“Yeah . . . it doesn’t seem like a very good idea.” Blaster shook his head, confused. The boy had removed his favorite black armor and was now wearing white, blending in with the background again.
“Blaster . . . be nice.” Planter cast him a scowl. He just smiled in response.
“Something happened a long, long time ago, causing the village to take a pledge of non-violence. Some think it happened during the Great War, but no one is really sure.”
“Don’t you have anything written down in books?” Mapper asked.
She shook her head. “No, there’s nothing written down anywhere. All of the buildings have been searched and there’s no mention of what happened. All we know is the wall was there before anyone in the village was born.”
“Your parents and grandparents and great grandparents . . . all of them were born with the wall being there?” Mapper glanced at Watcher, a surprised expression on his wrinkled face.
Saddler nodded.
“So, leaving the village with these companions . . . that was difficult?” Er-Lan’s voice was filled with compassion. “This zombie understands the difficulty of such a choice.”
Saddler glanced at the zombie and nodded. “I’m sure the other villagers feel as if I betrayed them.” Her voice was solemn and sad. “We all swore to never take up arms against another creature and to stay within the confines of our village, but I couldn’t just give up on my little girl, Fencer.” She turned to Watcher. “I will always be indebted to you for saving her. None of my neighbors or friends would have gone into that cave knowing there were monsters down there.”
“So they’re afraid. . . . They’re cowards?” Blaster asked.
“Avoiding violence does not make one a coward.” Er-Lan’s voice was barely a whisper, but loud enough for all to hear.
“That’s right, Er-Lan. Sticking to your principles doesn’t make someone a coward,” Mapper corrected. “It makes them brave.”
“But to leave that little girl down there in a cave with monsters closing in on her . . . that’s terrible.” Blaster shook his head in disgust.
“I agree with Blaster. . . . They’re cowards.” Cutter’s deep voice boomed across the landscape.
Watcher glanced at Planter and rolled his eyes. “They aren’t cowards.” His voice was terse. “They’re just trying to follow their beliefs.”
“Well, Cutter and Blaster do have a point,” Planter said as she curved around a huge column of ice that stretched up high into the sky. “They would have just abandoned Fencer if we hadn’t been there.”
Watcher sighed. “Knowing who you really are and following your path can be difficult. Though we don’t understand the NPCs in that savannah village, it’s important to respect their dedication to their principles. Sometimes it can be hard to follow your beliefs.”
Cutter laughed and glanced at Planter, waiting for a response. She remained silent.<
br />
“Come see what’s up ahead.” Blaster ran over a snow-covered hill and disappeared behind its peak.
Watcher drew his enchanted sword, Needle, from his inventory and chased after his young friend, the rest of the party two steps behind him. When he reached the top of the snowy mound, he found Blaster standing in front of a round dwelling, constructed from blocks of packed snow.
“Look . . . it’s an igloo.” Planter’s lyrical voice fluttered with excitement.
“What is it?” Er-Lan sounded confused. “It just seems like a mound of snow.”
“I’ve never seen one of those!” Mapper exclaimed as he sprinted down the hill, slipping on a block of ice and tumbling the rest of the way.
“Mapper, are you okay?” Er-Lan knelt at the old man’s side.
As he struggled to stand on wobbly legs, Mapper smiled bashfully. “I’ve heard about these appearing in the Far Lands only recently, but have never seen one.”
“Well . . . come on.” Watcher put a hand on Mapper’s left arm, Er-Lan on his right. “Just don’t take another dive.”
Mapper laughed, then sprinted toward the entrance, the two friends on either side.
Watcher followed Mapper and Er-Lan into the domed structure. Inside, white carpet covered the floor, and there was a bed on one side of the igloo, with a crafting bench and furnace on the other. A lone redstone torch burned, providing enough light to see without melting any of the snow.
“Is this all?” Cutter stomped around, shattering the bed with an axe to see what was underneath.
Blaster turned his pickaxe upon the furnace, then shattered the crafting bench too, putting both into his inventory. “This is pretty anti-climactic. I thought we might find something useful.”
“Yeah. This is a waste of time . . . let’s go.” Cutter stormed out, followed by Blaster and Saddler.
Er-Lan growled as if sensing something.
“It’s not a waste of time. Hold on.” Watcher moved to the edge of the white carpet, then knelt and stared at the fuzzy floor covering. “There’s something underneath the rug.”
“What are you talking about? How can you tell that?” Cutter’s question was more like an accusation, as if he were showing off to someone.
“See how it rises up just a bit?” Watcher pointed with an iron axe at the far edge. “I think there’s something here.”
Swinging his axe, he tore into the carpet, destroying each square. The pieces floated off the ground, then flowed into Watcher’s inventory as he continued to cut into the floor. When he destroyed the last piece, right at the slight bump, he found a trap door hidden under the white carpet.
“You see?” Watcher smiled.
“He was right.” Blaster patted him on the back.
“Let’s see what’s down there.” Cutter sounded impatient.
Watcher glanced at Planter, expecting some sort of recognition for his discovery, but she was already following the big NPC down the ladder.
“Wait!” Watcher shouted, but it was too late.
With Needle in his hand, Watcher followed his friends into the dark passage, Mapper and Saddler right behind him. The ladder descended about twenty blocks, then ended in a torch-lit room. The walls were made of stone brick and covered with dust; it was clear no one had been here in a long time.
One wall consisted of two cells, iron bars across the front. Clearly, they were prison cells, with a cauldron of water and a stone bench in each. Er-Lan stood before the cells and stiffened, then snarled.
“What is it?” Watcher moved to the zombie’s side.
“Monsters have been kept here.” His dark claws unconsciously extended from his decaying fingers. “Creatures were tortured here and left to perish. Great suffering happened here . . . Er-Lan can sense it.”
“You can sense it?” Mapper asked.
The zombie nodded.
“Maybe it’s best if you went to the surface to guard the entrance,” Watcher said.
Er-Lan nodded his head, then slowly stepped away from the cells and climbed the ladder back to the surface.
Watcher surveyed the rest of the chamber. A brewing stand stood atop a wooden desk, a bottle still mounted on it, its potion dark and foreboding. Mapper reached out and took the bottle from the stand, then smelled its contents.
“Ahh . . . a splash potion of slowness.” The old man smiled. “This might be useful.” He stuffed the bottle into his inventory.
Watcher scanned the rest of the space. On the other side of the room was a large chest and a cauldron of water. He carefully opened the box, the hinges squeaking as if they hadn’t moved in a century.
“All of you should look in here,” Watcher said slowly, shocked by its contents.
Inside were a couple dozen swords, scores of bows, and stacks and stacks of arrows. Leather and chainmail armor filled many of the slots, followed by a stack of shields, but one shield sat in its own slot, which was curious. Watcher reached in and withdrew the shield. It was painted a bright red, the rim decorated with gold. Across the center were painted three wither skulls, each face with a different expression. The shield shimmered with magical energy as enchantments pulsed through the wood and metal.
Planter gasped when she saw it, her eyes wide with surprise.
“That looks just like the one we found while we were chasing the skeleton general and his forces a few weeks ago.” Planter pulled out her shield; it was an identical copy.
“Apparently someone made many of these shields.” Mapper lifted the shield and inspected its surface. “Clearly it’s enchanted. I suspect this was made during the Great War. Maybe at one time, there were hundreds of these shields being used to protect villagers.”
“Give it to Saddler.” Watcher took it from Mapper and handed it to Fencer’s mother. “You should use this. Maybe it will keep you safe.”
“Why me?”
“Why not?” Watcher answered. “Someone should use it. I think it should be you. Does anyone disagree?”
Everyone remained silent.
“There you go . . . it’s unanimous,” Watcher said.
She smiled.
“Look, Saddler, we’re shield sisters now.” Planter held her shield up and smiled, then glanced at Watcher and gave him a smile.
Watcher’s soul exploded with fireworks.
“Take all the weapons and armor,” Cutter said. “You never know when we’ll need more.”
Watcher filled his inventory with armor and swords while Blaster, Cutter, and Mapper took the rest. They all filled their inventories to the brim.
“Let’s get out of here.” Cutter slammed the lid closed.
“I agree.” Watcher climbed to his feet. “I’d like to find a witch before nightfall.”
“That would be good,” Planter added. “I’m worried about Fencer.”
“We all are, of course,” Cutter flashed her a confident smile, then climbed the ladder to the surface.
Before Watcher could say anything, Planter climbed up after him, disappearing into the dark passage. Waiting for the others to go to the surface, Watcher glanced around the room.
“Why was someone stocking weapons here, under an igloo?” His soft voice bounced off the stone walls and came back to him.
With a sigh, he climbed the ladder and stepped into the igloo. Moving to Saddler’s side, he handed her an iron sword. “You’ll likely need this.”
She stared down at the weapon, a look of disgust on her face. Reluctantly, she grasped the hilt and held the sword away from her as if were about to bite.
“Here’s some armor as well.” Watcher gave her some chainmail. “You should put it on before we leave, just to be safe.”
The woman nodded and put on the clinking armor, then held the blade out as before, trying to get as far from the weapon as possible.
“Let’s go.” Cutter stepped out of the igloo, then stopped just outside the frozen structure as a growl floated through the air.
“What was that?” Saddler asked, sounding worried.
“Was that Er-Lan?” Planter asked.
“It was not Er-Lan.” The zombie stood at the back of the igloo.
Watcher stuck his head out of the igloo and scanned the terrain. Snow still fell from the sky in silent little clumps, each delicate geometric shape different from the next. The frozen shower made the biome seem still and peaceful.
But then the growl sounded again, driving the peaceful stillness away. Watcher turned toward the sound. Standing nearby was a polar bear with two cubs, the animals’ white fur blending in with their surroundings.
Cutter drew his diamond sword, then glanced at Watcher. “We need to move in that direction, but the bear is right in our path. It needs to go.” He held his sword out as if showing it to Watcher. “You ready for a fight?”
“No, don’t!” Saddler cried out as she emerged from the igloo. She reached up and grabbed Cutter’s arm, forcing the big NPC to lower his sword. “We don’t need to kill them.”
“That bear is right in our path,” Cutter pointed with his other hand. “If we go around, it might charge at us. There’s no choice.”
“You always have a choice when you decide who you want to be.” Saddler sounded as if she were lecturing a misbehaving child. “You don’t have to use violence. Make another choice.”
Decide who you want to be. Saddler’s words bounced around in Watcher’s head as if they were some kind of universal truth, though he didn’t understand their significance. I don’t want to be the person that destroys a bear just because she’s protecting her cubs.
“No, we won’t attack.” Watcher sheathed his sword. “There must be another way.”
“You say it might . . . charge?” Mapper’s voice cracked with fear, but then the old man smiled. “I know how to get past the polar bear without hurting it.” He reached into his inventory and pulled out the slowness potion. “I’ll use this. Is everyone ready to run?”
“What is it?” Cutter asked.
But Mapper didn’t reply. Instead, he charged straight at the beast, the splash potion held high in the air. When he was within range, he threw the bottle at the animal. It crashed on its furry, muscular chest, coating the animal with the dark liquid as it reared up on its hind legs, brandishing dark claws. Instantly, colored spirals floated around the animal.
Into the Spiders' Lair Page 5
