The Lost Journals: An Official Minecraft Novel

by Mur Lafferty

  “That’s not—” she started, but he kept talking.

  “I wanted to learn from him but he wouldn’t teach me, and my mom really didn’t want me to learn. Said I needed to learn architecture instead.”

  “So you snuck out so he could teach you,” Alison said. Max was pretty predictable.

  “Yeah. He wouldn’t let me try anything, though. So, one night I broke into his cabin and tried to test one of his enchanted helmets.”

  “The drowning!” Alison said, understanding.

  Max nodded. “I thought it had a water breathing enchantment on it. Instead it weighed me down and I couldn’t take it off. I barely survived, and they all thought I was dead. When I came home, Nicholas was gone. Mom said he…left.”

  Max’s voice hitched for a moment, but he kept talking. “I went to the cabin and found it like—that. I tried to get as many of his journals as I could, but most of them were destroyed. I wanted to find him. Then your family, well, you know, then you came to live with us, and Mom wouldn’t let me mention him, even when I told her about the cabin.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me?” she asked.

  “What’s more exciting, I found a journal from a mysterious enchanter, let’s figure it out, or My mother drove my uncle away after I took his helmet and almost killed myself with it, let’s figure out the other stuff he’s tried to invent?” Max hung his head. “And I was afraid you’d tell my mom.”

  “But you didn’t think I would tell her we were following plans from an unknown author who was far too fond of spider eyes?” Alison sighed. “You could have trusted me, Max.”

  “I know. I don’t even know if he’ll come back if we find him. Or if Mom will let him. She’s still pretty mad.”

  “Does she know he’s gone to the Nether?” Alison asked. “Surely she would be worried about him if she knew he was here.”

  “She doesn’t even talk about him anymore. She hates him. Not only does she think he almost killed me, but after he disappeared, Dad had to move temporarily to the village to take over the big project Nicholas was working on. She blames him for everything.”

  “That’s why your dad left. And why no one will talk about why,” she said, realization dawning. Alison thought his parents might be somewhat justified in their emotions, but no one should be exiled from their family, and they definitely shouldn’t be left in the Nether. “We could get him out of here, but we don’t have to bring him back to your place. He can move. Better to live somewhere else in the Overworld than here.”

  “I don’t know how to find him,” he said miserably. “I didn’t even know we’d gotten so close.”

  “Max, we weren’t close. He beat us here by weeks. You lost, what, a few hours of that time from when we met Freya to now? Nothing is different, except I now know the truth.”

  They sat in silence, until Alison couldn’t take the heat pricking her skin anymore. Uncomfortable, and irritated at their situation—and at her friend, who looked like he was settling in to feel sorry for himself for a good hour or two more—she stood up carefully on the bridge. “I still can’t get over the fact that you pulled me to the Nether and you never told me why.”

  “I couldn’t—” he began, not looking at her.

  “No, Max!” she said, smacking his shoulder and making him look at her. “You could. Do you know why my parents died? Do you know exactly why they died?”

  “The creeper—” he said, uncertain.

  “No, it wasn’t the creeper,” she said. “Not directly. We don’t have a lot of creepers around the farms and ranches, haven’t you noticed they’re mainly in the woods? Mom and I had a fight. She said there were some sheep lost deep in the woods, and she wouldn’t let me go with her because of creepers. I told her I could handle it, and she said no. She said I was too young. I insisted I could help. I’d protected the sheep from wolves and zombies and stuff. I could deal with a creeper.

  “I got upset and told her that I didn’t need her anyway, and that I was going to live at your house instead. I left, but I just walked around in the woods for a while, feeling sorry for myself. When I wandered back near the house at sundown, I came face-to-face with a creeper. I panicked and I ran. I ran toward my house, then realized what I was doing, and ran past it instead. I heard it detonate behind me.” She stopped, unable to speak for a moment. She took a deep breath. “I came back. The tree was mostly destroyed. Family were—gone.”

  “But that’s not your fault,” Max said.

  “I led the creeper to the house. But that’s not just it,” she said. “My problem was, she was right. I wasn’t strong enough to take on a creeper. And I keep wondering, was my sudden running away what triggered the creeper? I’ll never know. But Mom told me I was weak, and she was right. And I hate that about myself.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t mean—”

  “Every time someone told me I wasn’t ready for something, I was afraid they were right. But I didn’t expect you to not have faith in me. We’re stuck in the Nether and you didn’t trust me to tell me the reasons why. Max, if you don’t have faith in me, I don’t have anyone left.”

  She got up then, and stalked away. Max scrambled to his feet. “Ali, don’t. I’m sorry”

  The door to the great hall slammed shut.

  Freya walked up behind him. “What was that all about? Did you make up?”

  “Not even close,” he said, frowning at the door. “I think it’s worse now. She’s really mad.”

  “What did you do?”

  He thought for a moment. “I…I don’t think it is me, actually. Not this time. We need to let her cool off.”

  “Think she’s going to the storage room for some food?”

  Alison was in the great hall. Beyond that was the storeroom with the secret door—and beyond that, the Nether.

  “No, I don’t think she wants soup,” he said, and went off at a run, then pulled up fast, grasping at his hip. “Oh no, where’s Bone Bane?”

  “Bone what?” Freya asked.

  “My sword, my gold sword,” he said impatiently. “I had it during the fight with the skeletons! It wasn’t with me when I woke up. What did you do with it?”

  “Oh right,” Freya said, looking at his hip as if the sword were there and she just hadn’t spotted it yet. “I think Bunny Biter may have taken it when she was cleaning the library of bones.”

  “You think?” he asked. “How can you not know?”

  “I was preparing a healing potion at the time,” she said, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. “Relax, I know where she hides bones. You keep an eye on Alison.” She went off at a run back toward the library stairs. Max ran off in the other direction.

  Please want some soup, he begged Alison mentally. Just some soup. I’ll even make it for you.

  The great hall enveloped him in heat and light when he burst through the door, but he ran on, wondering who in the world would want to have a grand meal in a furnace.

  He got to the storage room door and closed his eyes, hoping to see Alison sitting at the table, angrily telling a bowl of mushroom soup how bad a friend he had been. He’d offer to listen instead and they would laugh. It would be a touching moment they could tell his mom about when they got out of this mess.

  He opened the door and found what he had actually suspected: it was empty. The secret door was ajar, the torches flickering down the tunnel.

  “Alison, come back!” he shouted.

  There was no answer. Max looked impatiently over his shoulder to see if Freya had returned, and then rushed to the window. He wanted to run after Alison, but he was unarmed and knew he’d be next to useless without his sword.

  Reaching the window, he looked out and saw a hole appear in the canyon wall; Alison stormed out. It felt to Max as if it were night, but the light remained the same bleak illumination coming from the lava and glowstone.
At least there weren’t any of those screaming fire creatures, Max thought.

  Then a skeleton entered the canyon. Its head swiveled and its empty dead eyes stopped on Alison. It raised its sword and began walking toward her.

  WHEN NOT TO ACT RASHLY

  When Alison had stormed away from Max, she could barely see past her tears. She had meant to get to the storage room, but she was too distracted by her own despair. She stormed through several doors and down a hall without thinking. Then she was outside.

  She had decided to go back inside before she saw the skeleton; the arrival of the monster just cemented her resolve to get back to safety. The only problem was, there was a second skeleton behind her. She hadn’t seen it when she’d stomped outside, and now it moved between her and the door.

  Why does this keep happening? Alison stumbled backward, feeling in her pack for her bow. Her hand closed around her helmet first, and she fumbled it onto her head for a tiny bit of protection. Then she grabbed her bow, feeling the rough wood that indicated it needed some repairs. Would it last long enough to keep her alive?

  The skeleton between her and the door raised its sword and began to hurry toward her. She raised her bow in return, knowing she’d be lost if it got within range of hitting her. She heard some clacking and remembered the skeleton entering the canyon. She checked over her shoulder and saw more skeletons coming in behind the first.

  She turned slightly so she could see both of the first two skeletons out of the corners of her eyes. She took another step backward and loosed an arrow toward the closer skeleton. The shot went wide, and even more skeletons appeared. “I really hate it here,” she mumbled.

  An arrow whizzed by her cheek. So much for hoping they had only swords, then.

  She headed backward toward the canyon wall, releasing more arrows, seeing some skeletons fall, but the satisfaction she might have felt was quickly dampened by the new enemies that took their place.

  Life was more important than her pride, so she gritted her teeth. “Max? Freya? Help?” she called weakly.

  The skeletons edged closer, swords raised. They were close enough that she could see their square eye sockets. Alison nocked another arrow and let it fly. The skeleton between her and the secret door fell, so she dropped her bow and made a break for the door.

  She was too far from it still, and the approaching skeletons swarmed her.

  * * *

  —

  Max, Freya, and the stupid thieving wolf ran as fast as they could down the secret tunnel toward the clacking battle below them.

  “She can’t take all those on herself!” Max said, wiping Bunny Biter’s slobber off the handle of his newly recovered sword.

  “I know that,” Freya said, leaping over a mushroom patch in front of her. “That’s why we’re running.”

  From the outside drifted Alison’s voice, calling Max’s and Freya’s names. She sounded far away and frightened. Max pushed himself to run faster. He snagged one of the torches from the wall with his left hand and gripped Bone Bane tighter. They had to make it in time, they just had to.

  They burst from the secret tunnel just as Alison disappeared in a flurry of bones and swords. Max raised Bone Bane and shouted a war cry, but a light flashed from the middle of the skeleton mob and the monsters fell back, some of them falling down and twitching, then disappearing in a puff of smoke. Alison sat, stunned, in the middle of a circle of skeletons. She looked ragged and tired, injured but conscious. She wore the gold helmet she’d made for herself, the one that Max had tried to enchant. It was now glowing slightly.

  Freya, Bunny Biter, and Max ran into the fray and made short work of the remaining skeletons. At this point it seemed easy, with Max keeping some at bay with the torch while he took others down with the knockback power of Bone Bane, and Freya’s skill with her bow keeping the rest off them. Some of the smarter skeletons saw Bunny Biter and turned and ran.

  Near the end of the battle, Alison had gotten to her feet, retrieved her bow, and taken down a few of her attackers. Most of her shots didn’t land; her hands were shaking pretty badly.

  The last skeleton fell with a clatter. The three of them stood, statue-still, while Bunny Biter began her customary clearing of the battlefield by grabbing bones, dashing inside, and then returning for more. Alison blinked at Freya and Max, said, “Your enchantment worked. I remember the journal called this one ‘Thorns,’ ” and then toppled over.

  Freya put her hands on her hips. “I swear, you two are going to drain me of supplies. Come on, let’s get her inside.” Carrying her between them, the two began the long walk up the secret tunnel. Bunny Biter ran at their heels, yipping muffled, joyful barks around a mouthful of bones.

  Click here to view a transcript of this text

  MASTER ARCHITECT, FAILED ENCHANTER

  Alison opened her eyes at last, smacking her lips and grimacing at the taste of the healing potion. “That’s worse than mushroom soup.”

  Max didn’t think it was that bad. He wouldn’t go seeking it out if he was thirsty, but he didn’t mind it. Alison looked like she had licked the underside of a donkey.

  “What happened?” she asked, sitting up. Then her eyes got wide and tears filled them. She focused on Max, her lips trembling to make the words. “They’re gone. And I can’t bring them back.”

  Max had been prepared to defend himself against her rage again, but this was new and different and he had no idea what to do.

  “Um—” he said, and looked over at Freya. She watched them with her arms crossed, standing a few feet away.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Max. It’s not your fault. Just…everything hit me. I just wish I could make a decision about something in my life. But I just react to everything. Mom was right. I’m not ready.” Alison pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. She put her head on her knees and began to cry quietly.

  “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Max said, patting her awkwardly. “I’m, you know, not mad.”

  “Move over,” Freya snapped, and pushed him out of the way. She wrapped her arms around Alison and held her until the tears stopped. It felt like twelve or thirteen years, but it probably was only a few days, to Max’s estimation.

  Alison looked up and sniffled, her face puffy. “Thanks. I’m okay now.”

  “Good,” Freya said, and stood up. She went to a brewing station and tossed Alison a clean towel. “Clean yourself up. And then we need to talk about your helmet.”

  “Yeah, that’s right, Ali,” Max said, glad to be able to get back into the conversation. “It looks like I did enchant the helmet!”

  Freya examined the golden helmet, turning it in her hands. “You were right, Alison, it’s got a Thorns enchantment, so even though you dropped your bow, you still hurt them when they hit you. Then we saved your butt.” She looked at Max. “That’s about it, right?”

  Max shrugged. “More or less.” He would have liked to talk about how awesome he had been with Bone Bane, but knew he owed Alison more than that.

  Alison looked like she was trying to remember. “Thanks,” she said. “You didn’t have to run after me.”

  “No problem,” he said.

  “Of course we did,” Freya said.

  “So, there’s one thing I don’t get,” Alison said, wiping the tears off her face. “About your uncle, I mean. He’s an architect, a really, really good one. What’s with the enchanting? He’s terrible at it.”

  Max sighed and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. He wiped the remaining wolf slobber off Bone Bane. The blade had teeth marks on it from when Bunny Biter had tried to steal it.

  “Well, you know Uncle Nicholas,” he said. “The best architect in the family, he won a few awards for the ice castles he built in the north.” He glanced at Freya. “Architecture runs in my family. Everyone does it. I’m expected to do it. Someone in my family has bu
ilt most of the big houses in our village.”

  He looked back to Alison. “Did you know Uncle Nicholas designed your family’s tree house?”

  She looked startled. “No, I had no idea. Maybe that’s why Grandma complained about it all the time.”

  Max smiled, remembering how the old people had constantly bickered. “Anyway, one night we visited your family for dinner. I remember he’d started to talk about a trip he’d taken in his youth, and your grandmother interrupted him and started talking about knitting and sheep. That made him mad. Later that night when we were walking home, Uncle Nicholas told me how architecture left him empty inside. How he’d had so much fun doing more exciting things when he was younger.

  “He said he’d done some exploring with an archivist named Boots. They traveled around and Boots did the brewing and enchanting and he did the crafting and building. Boots wrote it all down. That was when he’d felt alive. He said he didn’t have Boots anymore, so he wanted to do his own enchanting and alchemy.”

  Max studied his sword and decided it was clean enough. He carefully put it down on the floor in front of his feet and then sat back and looked up at the ceiling. “Mom got tired of his distractions. Said he wasn’t doing his part of the family job. She and Dad had to cover the work he was supposed to be doing. When they found out he had been avoiding working in the village because he was building his enchanting cabin in the woods, they were so mad. They didn’t want to hear that he was finally learning how to enchant stuff.”

  Max smiled sadly. “He was so proud. He would claim that he had enchanted things, but they were usually duds. His brewing was terrible, making explosive chemicals or just plain poison. But I didn’t care. I loved his work. It was exciting!”

  He sat forward and looked at the girls again. “No one got excited about architecture. I liked seeing him excited, and I started to get interested in enchanting instead of building. But my parents wouldn’t let me see him after he moved from the village into the woods. So, I visited him when Mom and Dad didn’t know where I was. He told me he’d enchanted a sword, but nothing else. I sometimes spied on him when no one knew I was there. I knew he was working on an underwater breathing helmet, and I watched him while he was enchanting it.”