And then Watcher smiled. “Explosion of frustration.”
“What?” Planter asked.
“I think he’s going crazy.” Cutter shook his head as if Watcher were already insane.
Watcher gave Cutter an annoyed glance, then turned his gaze to Blaster. The boy put on his leather cap, the pale-yellow armor allowing him to blend in with the desert sand.
“You think you could put your special skill to work on this sea of cacti?” Watcher asked.
Blaster looked confused for a moment, then turned and stared at the pointed spines. Watcher could tell the boy was lost in thought as he calculated how many blocks he’d need . . . and then he smiled and nodded.
“Let’s do it.” Blaster turned back to Watcher, a huge grin on his square face. “This is gonna be fun!”
Blaster paced back and forth, wringing his hands nervously. Watcher knew he’d done all the calculations and checked the aim of each mechanism carefully, but the boy was still worried.
“Tell me again why we can’t use the horses after Blaster does his thing?” Cutter asked.
Watcher sighed. “We can’t take the horses down the stairs and into the pit, and there’s nowhere safe for them to stand; the cacti extend all the way to the edge of that hole.” Watcher glanced up at the big NPC and rolled his eyes. “If we use the horses, they’ll all be killed.”
“Better them than us.”
“Your concern for the animals and their well-being is inspirational.” Watcher glared at Cutter, letting his sarcasm linger in the air for a moment.
“That supposed to be a joke?” the warrior asked.
“How someone treats an innocent creature, like a horse, says a lot about how they’ll treat people who are important to them.” Watcher’s voice was loud; he hoped Planter would hear. “Animals, like people, should not be mistreated just because it’s convenient.”
“What are you talking about?” The growing frustration in Cutter’s voice was clear. “You think I don’t care about other people?”
Watcher shrugged. “A person’s actions show who they truly are. Your willingness to sacrifice the horses says a lot.” He knew this wasn’t about horses; this was about his own frustration over the relationship that seemed to be growing between Planter and Cutter. It was his own insecurities rising to the surface, giving voice to his jealous thoughts.
“What? You think I’m going to start sacrificing people next?” Cutter was getting angry, but he also had a confused expression on his square face.
Watcher shrugged again, his voice growing louder. “Maybe . . . who knows?”
“What are you two arguing about?” Planter said, her words soft and spoken deliberately slowly, but with the force of a giant’s hammer behind them.
“I have no idea. Watcher just started screaming at me about horses.”
“You’re the leaders of this army and you’re here, bickering like a couple of children.” She glared at Cutter, then focused her gaze upon Watcher. She raised one side of her unibrow, an unasked question in her eyes. “What’s this all about?”
“It’s just that . . . well, the horses, Cutter wanted the horses to—”
“All you had to do is say ‘no’ instead of going nuts and talking about people getting sacrificed,” Cutter said. “You know I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone or anything if it can be avoided.” He threw his hands up into the air, frustrated and confused. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you these days. You’re so sensitive.” Cutter turned and walked away.
Planter looked at Watcher, and the expression on her face changed from annoyance to concern. “What is going on with you?”
Her voice was soft and soothing, easing some of Watcher’s fears, as it always did.
Watcher brought his eyes to the ground, ashamed.
“What’s really going on here?” Planter asked again.
“Well, Cutter was saying we could use the horses, but after the . . . it doesn’t matter.” He glanced up, his gaze drawn to her beautiful, emerald-green eyes. “I reacted poorly to him. For some reason, I snapped, I don’t know why.” I know exactly why. “It won’t happen again.”
“It can’t.” She placed a hand on his arm; it felt like fireworks. “Everyone looks up to you two. Both of you must work together to keep the rest of the army functioning.” She paused for a moment to let her words sink in. “You don’t need to prove that you’re better than everyone else.” She took a step closer, her voice intimate and soft, barely a whisper. “I know you’re an amazing person.” She moved even closer. “I have faith in you and always will.”
“But I—”
“Just be yourself. . . . That’s all I ask.” Her soothing voice seemed to melt away his fears.
Watcher nodded.
“Now, do you think we can make it through the Sea of Spines after Blaster does his thing?” Planter’s voice now had a worried, fearful tone.
He glanced at the prickly cactus. “Based on Blaster’s experiments, we’ll have time.”
“When do we start?” Planter asked.
Watcher glanced at Blaster. The boy was checking and double-checking each apparatus, making sure the aim and all the delays were set correctly. They both watched him as he streaked from one to the next, making sure it would all work. If it didn’t, then it was likely many of the villagers would be injured . . . or worse.
Satisfied it was ready, Blaster moved everyone away from the contraptions and positioned himself next to the lever.
“Everyone needs to be fast. I don’t really know how much time we’ll have before the cacti appear again.” Blaster grinned, clearly excited, but nervous as well.
“How will we get out after we get in there?” Planter asked.
Blaster pointed to Watcher. “I’m leaving that up to him.”
Cutter scowled, then took off his armor and moved next to Planter. “Everyone, remove your armor; you’ll be able to run faster.”
“That’s a good idea.” Watcher glanced up at the big warrior and nodded, hoping to show his appreciation and make amends, but Cutter was looking away. With a sigh, Watcher scanned their surroundings, looking for monsters; none were around. Satisfied it was safe, Watcher removed his enchanted iron armor and stuffed it into his inventory. “Let’s do it.”
Blaster removed his own leather armor and gave him a nod, then pushed the lever. A series of plopping sounds could be heard, followed by the splashing of water and a loud hiss.
“Here it goes!” Blaster was so excited.
All around them, TNT cannons were glowing as their redstone blocks gave off a bright crimson glow. The first TNT cannon detonated, shooting a blinking cube into the air, followed by another and another and another. Watcher wasn’t sure how many cannons Blaster had built, but he’d made them to shoot in a specific sequence.
The first explosive cube landed on the edge of the cactus forest, with other cubes landing nearby. While more of them were flying through the air, the first ones exploded, tearing into the prickly plants.
“Now . . . RUN!” Watcher sprinted straight for the explosion.
By the time he reached the site of the detonation, the cacti were gone, but the enchanted sand was untouched. More blocks of TNT exploded before him, just out of reach. The smell of sulfur filled the air, reminding him of creepers; all of the gunpowder had come from those deadly creatures.
He ran faster, trying to get as close to the next explosion as possible without being hurt. The bombs detonated one after another like a series of beats being played on a giant’s drum. They erased the cacti from existence, carving a wide path through the Sea of Spines. But Watcher could see cactus already starting to appear again at the edges of the cleared trail.
He ran even faster, his heart pounding in his chest. Will we make it in time?
The last few blocks exploded at the inner edge of the cactus field, revealing a clear passage to the safe section at the middle of the sandy plain; it was only two blocks wide. Watcher bolted through the opening and stood on th
e sandy strip ringing the gigantic hole. Er-Lan skidded to a stop right next to him, panting heavily. The villagers streamed through the cleared trail and spread out around the edge of the bottomless pit, giving others room to exit the cactus field.
“It’s closing up!” someone shouted in warning.
Watcher turned. The outer edge had healed itself, the cacti slowly reappearing in a creeping wave that closed in on those still running. His sister, Winger, was the last of the group.
“Hurry, Winger!” Watcher screamed. “It’s closing up.”
Winger glanced about, noticing the cactus slowly advancing on her. She reached into her inventory and pulled out a flask filled with a bright green liquid. She drank the potion, then dropped the empty flask to the ground. Instantly, bright green spirals formed around her head, then drifted up into the sky and disappeared.
Watcher was confused. “Faster, Winger, faster!”
“Er-Lan isn’t sure if Winger will make it,” the zombie moaned in terror.
“She’ll make it,” Cutter snapped.
Winger smiled at her brother, then pulled out her Elytra wings and put them on as she sprinted.
“What’s she doing?” Planter asked.
Watcher shook his head. “I don’t know.”
The cacti were getting closer, filling in the trail behind. Cacti on either side of the wide swath of cleared desert were slowly appearing, causing the path to get narrower and narrower.
“She’s not gonna make it.” Planter’s voice was but a whisper, her voice already filled with grief.
Watcher reached out and grabbed Planter’s hand and squeezed it tight. “She’s gonna make it . . . she has to.”
The cactus closed in tighter and tighter until the sharp spines were nipping at her heels. She was four blocks away, but the cactus before her were already beginning to appear, their razor-sharp spines blocking the way.
“She’s not gonna make it,” someone said.
“Oh no.” Watcher’s blood went cold. He felt a hand grab his shoulder and squeeze; it was his father, Cleric, an expression of horror painted across his square face.
“No . . . you have to make it!” Cleric’s voice was weak and sad.
But just then, just before the razor-sharp spines enveloped her, Winger leapt high in the air, much higher that anyone thought possible. Leaning forward, she opened her Elytra wings and glided through the air as the rest of the cacti appeared, sealing the path in. Turning in a graceful arc, Winger landed lightly on the sand beside them, a satisfied grin on her face. “Now that’s how you make an entrance.”
“You had us all scared to death,” Watcher chided.
His sister shrugged. “If anyone was gonna be last, then it had to be me. I knew I could fly over a small part of the cactus. My plan worked perfectly.”
“Yea, except for the fact that you had me terrified,” Watcher complained. “I guess I’ll just count that as a bonus,” his sister replied, smiling.
Cleric wrapped his arms around his daughter and squeezed, color finally coming back to his wrinkled face.
“I like her style,” Blaster added, then looked down into the huge pit. “There’s something down there, but I can’t tell what it is.”
Watcher moved to the edge of the massive hole and peered into the darkness. There was something creepy about the hole, as if it knew they were there, and was waiting for them.
“The Citadel of the Horse Lord . . . lies down there in the darkness.” The zombie was still out of breath after sprinting through the Sea of Spines. “It is there where all must go.”
The zombie gave Watcher a strained smile that looked more like a grimace.
“I guess we’re gonna take those stairs over there and find out if there are horses down there for us.” Watcher glanced at the zombie. “Er-Lan, why don’t you lead the way?”
The zombie seemed excited. He moved slowly through the crowd of NPCs, careful not to brush against the spines of the cacti or fall into the deep abyss. When he reached the stair, he glanced at Watcher, an expression of uncertainty on his scarred face, then slowly descended into the darkness. Another NPC, Farmer, quickly filed in behind the zombie, a look of excitement filling his eyes. The rest of the villagers followed, all of them looking more like the zombie than Farmer.
“Into the maw of the beast,” Blaster said with a chuckle.
Planter punched him in the shoulder playfully. “We’re all scared enough. We don’t need your help.”
He shot her a smile, then moved down the stairs.
Watcher waited until all the villagers were on the steps, then followed, his eyes peering into the hole. There was something down there in the shadows. His keen eyes could not pierce the darkness, but somehow, he could feel it, and it knew they were coming.
The stairway spiraled downward along the wall of the huge pit, the width of the abyss making the opposite side difficult to see. Torches had been set in the walls near the surface of the desert, but as they went deeper into the gaping hole, they were replaced with blocks of netherrack, each perpetually-burning cube set behind iron bars, splashing the stairs with a flickering glow.
As they descended deeper, a structure at the bottom of the abyss came into view. It was a huge castle built from cobblestone and stone brick, with a fortified wall surrounding the main structure. Cylindrical turrets sat on each corner, the towers dotted with holes for archers to cover any approach by enemy forces.
The main structure was gigantic. Multiple buildings soared upward to impossible heights behind the fortified barricades. The structures were connected by covered walkways that stretched from one building to the other, creating a complicated series of causeways that was maze-like in its complexity. From within the castle, flickering light streamed out of barred windows, giving it the appearance of being occupied. But Watcher knew better. He could see the thick layer of dust on the ground and across the tops of the towers. This place had not been visited by the living for centuries.
The castle was built upon what seemed like a replica of a grassy plain. Thick, verdant grass grew around the walls, the blades curiously still; it was something you didn’t usually see in Minecraft. But then Watcher realized there was no breeze down here. The normal east-to-west wind was blocked, leaving the blades of grass standing at attention and stationary, as if carved from green stone.
A wide set of gates sat open in the fortified wall, the iron bars rusted and crumbling apart from the ravages of time. On either side of the huge entrance, two statues loomed. They were built to resemble horses, and both black-and-white-spotted animals were sculpted to look like they were rearing up, their front hooves reaching high into the air. They were built from blocks of quartz and obsidian and were the most spectacular things Watcher had ever seen.
“I can’t believe it.” Farmer moved to one of the statues and ran his hand across the blocks making up a rear leg. “My brother and I heard about this place, but we always figured it was just a myth. I wish he could have lived long enough to see it.”
“Your brother is gone?” Watcher asked.
Farmer glanced at Watcher and nodded. “It was during the last skeleton attack. He was killed trying to protect the herd. At the end of the attack, I saw him slumped over on the back of his horse, a dozen arrows sticking out of him. I rode as fast as I could to get to him, but Trainer fell off and died just as I approached.” He paused for a moment to fight back the emotions, then his voice grew very quiet. “We never had a chance to say goodbye.” A pained expression came across Farmer’s face, but when he stared up at the magnificent sculpture, he smiled. “Trainer would have loved this.”
Farmer raised his hand into the air, fingers spread wide in the salute to the dead, then squeezed his hand into a fist. Watcher thought the tall villager was about to weep, but when he looked up at the huge spotted horse, he just smiled.
“Look, Trainer . . . I’m here!” Farmer’s voice reflected off the walls of the castle and echoed back at them. He turned and glanced at Watcher. �
��Now, my life is complete.”
“Don’t you want a peek inside?” Watcher asked.
Farmer nodded, then ran under the stone horse and through the crumbling gates.
A huge courtyard made of mossy cobblestone and stone bricks stretched from the walls to the buildings. Multiple doorways stood open, wooden doors lying on the ground in splinters; they had not aged well. One of the buildings was much larger than the rest, with what appeared to be corrals inside, though most of the wooden fences had fallen over. Farmer headed into the large building, the rest of the villagers following.
The interior was poorly lit, with only a few blocks of netherrack burning near the entrance. Farmer moved near one wall and placed a torch on the ground. It cast a weak glow throughout the building, the thick shadows pushing back with remarkable strength. Watcher figured there was some kind of enchantment working throughout the entire Citadel; the rules of Minecraft were probably altered.
Watcher moved to the torch and stared at the nearby wall. It was gray, like the stone bricks surrounding them, but this wall was different. Many of the blocks were not just brick, but decorated with pairs of dark gray spots. It made it seem as if they had eyes. Beneath the two dots, round openings filled with shadow yawned like gaping mouths. On the ground next to the strange blocks, a stone pressure plate sat on the cobblestone floor. The gray upon gray would have been easy to miss—someone not paying attention could have easily stepped on the triggers.
Planter moved to his side and stared at the strange blocks.
“Dispensers,” he said, pointing to the dark opening. “Don’t step on the pressure plates. Who knows what will happen.”
The villagers stayed away from the walls, congregating in the center of the dark room.
With an apple in one hand and a torch in the other, Farmer went deeper into the building, hoping the fruit would attract a horse, but none came.
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