Mapper veered to the right and ran around the bear as it tried to pursue him, but the furry beast moved sluggishly now. “Come on, the bear is too slow to catch anyone now.”
Watcher nodded, then took off running, the rest of the party following. Half went around to the left of the bear and the rest went to the right. They passed by the creature without having to fight it, leaving the furry mother to tend to her cubs.
“Good thinking, Mapper,” Planter said, patting him on the back.
The old man beamed.
“Let’s get moving.” Watcher glanced to the sky. “It’ll be dark soon.”
They took off across the frozen landscape, heading for the distant swamp. Watcher hoped they could find the witch and get back to the savannah village soon. But a nagging thought tickled the back of his mind: If we don’t find a witch soon, Fencer will be doomed.
Watcher shuddered as he ran, the icy fingers of dread slowly kneading at his soul.
As the party neared the edge of the ice plains biome, the smell of rot and decay filled the air. Watcher glanced at Er-Lan, wondering if the smell was coming from his friend, but he knew the zombie had been taking regular baths since he’d abandoned the tyrannical rule of the zombie warlord and joined their community.
Planter scrunched her face at the offensive odor. “What is that?”
“Zombies, maybe?” Cutter pulled out his diamond sword.
Er-Lan shook his head. “The smell is wrong. It is not zombies.”
“It must be the swamp.” Mapper pulled out a stained and dog-eared map and held it up to the noon sky, making the features on the ancient document easier to read. “Yep, we should almost be to the end of this frigid biome. The swamp should be very close.”
“There it is.” A voice shouted from up ahead. Blaster was standing atop a small hill, his white armor making the boy difficult to discern from the snowy background. “We’re at the swamp, and I can see a witch’s hut.”
“Do you see a witch?” Watcher ran up the hill.
“Nope, but maybe she’s inside.” Blaster removed his white armor and replaced it with a dark-green set. “They never venture very far from their huts unless they’re searching for supplies.”
“If the witch isn’t there, we’ll have to find another hut.” Planter glanced at Saddler. The mother had a worried expression on her square face. “I’m sure she’s there . . . I hope.”
A tiny square tear tumbled from Saddler’s eye. It fell to the ground and instantly froze into a miniature cube of ice. She wiped at her cheek, then scowled, a look of grim determination on her face. “If this witch isn’t there, then we’ll find another.” She gritted her teeth and stomped up the snow-covered hill. “Come on, everyone.”
Saddler reached the top of the hill, then sprinted down the other side, her iron sword in her hand.
They followed Saddler down the frozen slope, then stepped into the shallow waters of the swamp. Instantly, the temperature went from freezing cold to uncomfortably humid; the change felt like a kick to the chest. Jumping from lily pad to lily pad, they made their way closer to the structure, everyone in the company trying to keep their feet out of the stagnant waters. But eventually, their only choice was to slog through the knee-deep mire, trudging their way toward the witch’s hut.
Watcher placed a block of dirt on the ground and stood on it, surveying their surroundings. It was difficult to see very far, but it was the best he could do. Watcher knew slimes liked to spawn in the swamps, and he’d rather see those green gelatinous creatures before they bounced toward them to attack. Fortunately, there were none nearby. He pushed his way through the still waters toward a small island, a lone oak tree standing at the center. Long green vines hung down from the branches and along the trunk, making it look sad for some reason.
With an axe in hand, Watcher climbed the vines on the trunk, then chopped away at the leaves when he reached the branches overhead. He made a set of leafy steps and climbed to the top of the tree, gaining a much better view of the swamp. A blue sky stretched from horizon to horizon, the overhead azure background dotted with white, rectangular clouds drifting in their persistent westward trek. Holding a hand over his eyes to block out the sun, Watcher peered across the swamp. The assorted colors of clay, dirt, sand, and gravel under the shallow water created a colorful patchwork of shapes and hues. Green lily pads punctuated dark spots in the quilt-like pattern with circles of color against the muted tans of the swamp floor. Across an open section of water, the witch’s hut was clearly visible. A side window flickered with light, as if a torch was burning within.
“What do you see?” Planter asked.
“There’s a light inside the hut.” Watcher glanced down at Saddler. “Maybe we’re in luck and she’s there.” He sprinted to the edge of the tree and jumped, landing lightly in the shallow water. “We need to be careful when we approach. If we scare the witch, she’ll throw some potions at us. I don’t think a potion of harming would be very helpful right now.”
“Don’t be afraid.” Cutter moved closer to Planter. “I can take care of the witch. Come on, let’s get her.”
“I didn’t say I was afraid; it’s just . . .” Watcher started to say, but no one was listening. His companions were trudging on through the swamp, their splashing footsteps covering his voice.
He glared at Cutter’s back, frustration building up inside him. Drawing his bow, he nocked an arrow to the bowstring, and moved through the water as fast as possible, keeping his eyes swiveling to the left and right, searching for the witch; he had no intentions of being poisoned today.
When they were at the edge of the hut, Planter built a set of steps out of blocks of dirt, allowing Cutter to climb onto the small porch jutting out from the doorway. Still no witch.
“Wait for us.” Watcher’s voice was just loud enough for Cutter to hear, but, of course, the big NPC ignored him.
Screaming his battle cry, Cutter charged into the hut. Blaster glanced at Watcher, a confused expression on his square face. Watcher just shrugged, then climbed the steps.
“There’s no one here,” Cutter said from inside.
Watcher stepped into the small home and glanced around; it was indeed empty. A cauldron sat in the corner, filled with water, next to a crafting table. A furnace was on the other side of the crafting chamber, flames slipping from the opening and casting a flickering glow throughout the room. On the opposite wall, a small wooden desk sat, a brewing stand on top with three bottles ready for brewing. Grabbing one, he smelled the contents. They were just filled with water . . . clearly, the witch was getting ready to brew something.
A chest sat in one corner, the lid open. Items lay on the ground as if pulled from the chest and tossed aside. Watcher looked in the box, but found it empty.
“Strange . . . why would the chest be empty, but items strewn all over the floor?” Mapper asked.
“What’s this?” Saddler picked up a small red object. It was round and had something hanging from the end.
“That’s a spider eye,” Planter said.
“What?!” Saddler dropped the eye. “How did it get here?”
“Witches use them to make different potions.” Mapper picked up the eye and tossed it into the chest.
“Spiders also drop them when they’re killed,” Cutter added. “Maybe there was a fight here and the witch took a spider out.”
“If that’s true, where are the balls of XP?” Watcher picked up the other items and put them back into the chest. “And where’s the witch? If she destroyed the spider, she’d still be here.”
“There are a couple of blocks of spiderweb over here,” Er-Lan said, pointing to a shadowy corner. “Maybe some spiders trapped the witch there.”
“Or maybe the witch was just messy and those are cobwebs.” Cutter sheathed his sword. “There’s no one here—let’s move on.”
“I agree.” Planter gave Cutter a smile, then stepped out of the hut and jumped to the wet ground below.
Watcher saw
that look and seethed in anger. What’s going on with those two?
He moved toward the door, but Cutter pushed past him and leapt off the porch. Watcher heard Planter giggle when the warrior said something after landing in the water. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he knew whatever it was, he didn’t like it.
With his bow out, he sprinted down the stairs and scanned their surroundings. The sun was descending from its apex, toward the western horizon, allowing the landscape to slowly cool.
We must find the witch before dark, Watcher thought. It’ll be dangerous to try to catch one at night. None of them wanted to be the recipient of a splash potion. He glanced at Mapper. “Which way to the next hut?”
“My map said there should be a hut to the southwest.” Mapper pulled out the map and stared at the tiny letters and symbols, then nodded and put the item back in his inventory. “If it gets dark before we find a witch, we’ll need to use torches.”
“No, we shouldn’t use any torches,” Watcher said. “The monsters would see them. We need to try and stay invisible, at least for now.”
Cutter rolled his eyes, then cast Planter a smile. She giggled again.
Watcher scowled, then started walking south-west. They moved in silence, sprinting across islands and jumping from lily pad to lily pad when possible, going as fast as they could, even though the stagnant water and mud of the biome made it difficult going.
“I see something up ahead.” Watcher’s keen eyesight was the best in their village, if not in all of the Far Lands. “Something out there is flickering . . . it must be the next hut.”
They trudged through the muck, moving closer to the structure. It seemed just like the last hut: a square building with a sloped roof standing atop four posts. A tall oak tree on a small circle of land stood next to the wooden structure. A small porch stuck out in front of the door with a window on one side. As they approached, a witch could be seen moving past the window, her purple smock and conical black hat unmistakable to anyone knowing what to look for.
But then, a dark shape Watcher had first thought was the shadow of the nearby oak moved on the roof of the hut. Eight bright red eyes blinked as they scanned the swamp.
“Spiders.” Watcher notched a sparkling red-tipped arrow to his bowstring and pointed it toward the monster. The distance was too great, but he still held the weapon at the ready.
The witch dashed out onto her porch. She turned and threw a potion at another spider fast on her heels. The potion shattered on the head of the spider, causing the creature to stumble and fall. Turning, the witch jumped off the porch and landed in the water. A stream of spiders charged out of the hut and followed, splashing down next to her. They coated the witch with blocks of spiderweb, immobilizing her arms and quickly making the NPC their prisoner. The witch glanced toward the villagers, making brief eye contact with Watcher. He could see fear in the NPC’s eyes.
They ran through the swampy waters, closing the distance to the witch and spiders.
“Come on, we need to help her!” Watcher shot the magical arrow at the spider on top of the hut. Instantly, bright flames burst into life as the shaft leapt off the bow. The fire arrow streaked through the air, making a graceful arc towards its target, but the monster leapt off the hut at the last moment.
The spiders gathered their prey and bobbed about in the water, their feet too short to reach the soggy ground. But then, somehow, they started moving with incredible speed. Watcher pushed through the murky water as fast as he could, trying to get closer, but the spiders were now somehow running off as if they were on land, not in water. By the time Watcher and the others reached the hut, the monsters were long gone.
“What just happened?” Blaster asked, bewildered.
“It seems the spiders took the witch,” Er-Lan explained.
“I know they did that!” Blaster put away his knives. “I mean . . . why did they do that?”
“I don’t know.” Watcher’s voice was filled with anger. The look on the witch’s face was that of someone accepting the arrival of their death. It was sad and terrible, and Watcher wasn’t about to let that happen, not even to a witch. “But we’re gonna find out.”
Quickly, they searched the hut, hoping to find some clue that would tell them what was going on; they found nothing. The chest, as with the previous hut, was empty. No potions, no golden apples . . . nothing useful was left behind, just a few unimportant items scattered across the floor.
“Something is going on with the spiders and witches,” Watcher said in a low voice.
“You think?” Blaster said sarcastically, smiling.
“We need the witches so we can help my little girl.” Saddler’s voice was filled with sadness, but also with rage as well. “I’m not gonna let a bunch of spiders get in the way of saving my daughter.”
“None of us will let that happen.” Watcher drew Needle from his inventory and nodded reassuringly to the mother.
Saddler drew her own iron sword and nodded to the boy, a scowl on her face. “What are we waiting for?” She turned and jumped out of the hut. “Let’s go!”
Blaster glanced at Watcher. “She’s got spirit.” He turned and followed her, as did Cutter and Planter.
“Looks like this might take a bit longer than we thought,” Mapper said. “I hope you’re ready for another adventure.” He smiled, then headed out of the hut, leaving Watcher with Er-Lan.
“Er-Lan, why do you think the spiders would want to capture a witch?”
“It is uncertain. Spiders are not liked by any of the other monsters, and witches are shunned by the NPCs.”
“That’s not true,” Watcher said defensively. “We don’t shun them.”
“Witches are not welcome in the villages so they must live in swamps, alone.” Er-Lan glanced at the solitary structure. “Witches and spiders are both alone in their respective worlds. Perhaps there is a bond there.”
“It didn’t seem as if they were bonding.” Watcher stepped out onto the porch, his companions waiting below. “I saw the expression on her face; that witch was terrified.”
“Er-Lan is not sure what is happening, but if it involves the spiders, then it is not good.” The zombie moved to the porch with his friends. “Spiders only cause harm and destruction. Nothing good will come from this.”
Watcher pondered the zombie’s words, then jumped off the porch and landed in the swamp. He found his comrades trudging through the water, trying to follow the spider. When he caught up with his friends, Watcher saw how the spiders had been able to move so quickly through the murky water.
“Look, there’s a trail of spiderweb blocks in the water.” Blaster pointed at the fuzzy blocks with a curved knife.
The trail of white, sticky cubes extended through the swamp. Blaster tried to stand on one of the cubes, but slowly sank into it, becoming entangled in the many tacky strands.
“We can’t use their path, but we can make one of our own.” Watcher pulled out a cobblestone block and placed it on the ground. “Come on, everyone, follow me.”
Watcher jumped onto the block of stone, then placed another one three blocks away. He jumped to that gray cube, then placed another and jumped. They leapt from block to block, now moving quickly through the foul biome.
Watcher glanced over his shoulder at Mapper behind him. “I’m tired of adventures, but I’m not gonna fail Saddler’s little girl.”
And with a grim look of determination on his face, he sped through the swamp.
Winger held her arms tightly around her father’s waist as he kicked their horse into a gallop. Behind her, the rest of the NPCs from the savannah village charged across the landscape, most riding double on horses, but some on foot, sprinting as fast as possible. Occasionally, a rider would stop and dismount, giving those on the ground a chance to ride and rest their weary legs; there weren’t enough horses for everyone.
“You know, Dad, so far, this isn’t a very good birthday present.” Winger chuckled.
“Think of it
as a sightseeing trip, with me as your guide.”
“Yeah . . . and a horde of spiders out there somewhere, ready to destroy us.”
Cleric nodded.
“I’m so glad the villagers agreed to help us,” she said. “This isn’t really what I had in mind for a birthday present, Dad. But if it helps Watcher, then I’m happy.”
“Me, too.” Cleric pulled to the left on the reins, causing the horse to veer around a large oak tree. “I just hope we can reach them before the spiders do.”
“We will,” Winger reassured him.
They passed a man and wife who were walking hand-in-hand, their tired feet dragging on the ground as if they were exhausted. Cleric brought his animal to a halt. Both father and daughter jumped off their mount and gave the reins to the couple. Quickly mounting, the man and wife thanked Winger and Cleric, then rode off.
“Everyone, keep your HP up by eating!” Cleric shouted. “We need to move as fast as possible.”
He winked at his daughter, then took off running, her footsteps close behind.
The group of villagers soon entered an ice spikes biome, the cold air causing the horses and villagers to puff clouds of white mist as they ran, breathing heavily. In the snow, footsteps were visible, showing the path of Watcher and the others. The villagers followed the frozen trail until they stopped at the sound of a voice.
“An igloo is up ahead,” the forward scout shouted.
Cleric reached a small hill and gazed down at the rounded structure, the rest of the army standing on the frosty mound, uncertain what to do.
“Watcher would have already searched it. . . . Keep going!” Cleric called as he ran down the hill and past the igloo. He glanced up at the sun—its shining yellow face was on its way to the western horizon, but they still had a few hours of daylight left.
A villager clothed in a chocolate-brown smock with a tan stripe running down its center pulled his horse to a halt and leapt off, then handed the reins off to another NPC, who jumped on and galloped away.
Into the Spiders' Lair Page 6
