But who needs grass when you’ve got sand?
Zetta bobbed her head as she continued to dig through the chest. It was completely crammed, and since there wasn’t a torch in the closet, it was difficult to see the stuff down at the bottom. So Zetta pulled the chest out into the living room where she could get more light. Stone buttons. A bunch of crumbly coal. Some dried-up beet root seeds. A lead that had lost its stretch. A pile of lime green dye…
No notebook. Just a bunch of useless stuff.
Zetta sighed, then started humming to herself as she dragged the chest back into the closet. “Who needs grass when you’ve got—”
The closet’s wood floor creaked loudly as she stepped on it. It was odd enough that the floor was made from wood—most of the house had sandstone flooring, with patches of carpet for softness and warmth. But then Zetta noticed that one of the wood blocks was different from the others, more like a little door than flooring. She jiggled at it, pushed it, tried to pull it, but it wouldn’t open. She remembered seeing a button in the chest, so she dug through and found it and then placed it next to the little wooden door.
She pressed it. It opened.
Zetta stepped back. Why did her father have this secret door? She gathered her courage and peeked down inside. There was another chest, and of course Zetta had to open it. Her eyes lit up when she saw her brewing stand. Her father would be furious if she took it and he noticed it was gone, but she could remove the blaze powder to use back at her aunt’s place.
Zetta emptied the powder into her pack, but as she put the brewing stand back, something else in the chest caught her attention—a notebook with the word “Inventions” scribbled across the leather cover.
Zetta knew it was her mother’s handwriting. This had to be what she’d been looking for. She took the book out and slowly flipped through the pages. Written in very delicate script were instructions for building various mechanical contraptions. Intricate diagrams accompanied the writing, including depictions of the whole contraption as well as up-close details and cross sections. There were several designs for piston doors, a device for automatically sorting stored items, a slime block catapult…
She stopped when she got to the page titled “Wither Destroyer.”
It was huge, much larger than she’d imagined. The instructions went on for sixteen pages, starting with an inventory of each and every block needed for the construction.
“My mother was a genius,” Zetta whispered to herself.
Seconds later, she heard the front door open. Her father was home early. Zetta stuffed the book into her pack, then hit the button so hard the trapdoor snapped with a loud crack that echoed through their house. Oh no. There was no way her father hadn’t heard that. She worked quickly, shoving the chest back in place. Ah, the music disc! She ran to the music player and took the disc out, but her father arrived in the room before she could return it.
“Zetta?” he said, looking at the open closet, then back at her.
Zetta wanted to wipe the sweat from her brow, but she didn’t want to appear more guilty than she was.
“Hey, Dad. Just tidying up a bit. Look what I found.” She showed him the disc, hoping beyond hope that he’d be happy to see it, or at least be distracted enough not to ask a whole lot of questions as to what she was doing.
“Where’d you get that?” he snapped.
“In the chest there. It was a little dusty so—”
Her father grabbed the disc. For a moment, Zetta thought he was going to break it in half, but a deep frown crossed over his face as he stared at it. He went back into the closet and shoved the disc into the chest. “Don’t go in here again,” he said gruffly. “Understand?”
Zetta nodded. “Sorry about today,” she said. “You were right. I should have been paying more attention.”
Her father sighed, then tossed Zetta a gold ingot and an iron one. “First rights,” he said.
Zetta’s eyes lit up.
“That gold ore you discovered led to eight more. And half a dozen blocks of iron ore. We haven’t had a vein that productive in months.” Her father shuffled his feet. “This doesn’t make what you did any more right. Digging straight down is dangerous. You could have fallen into that lava.”
“I know, Dad. It won’t happen again.”
“I know it won’t. We’re starting a new round of mining training next week. You’ll have to take it again before you’re left unsupervised with a pickaxe.”
“Okay,” Zetta said sheepishly. She couldn’t believe that she actually felt relief to get another shot at mining. Maybe it was the taste of gold in her hands. Maybe it was some deep need to have a chance to redeem herself in her father’s eyes. But then she felt the weight of the notebook in her pack. How was her father supposed to trust her ever again if she was keeping everything that mattered from him?
Still, she knew the risk in telling him about the dragon.
The air between Zetta and her father thickened, like he was waiting for her to spill her soul.
She wanted to. But she couldn’t. This was too important.
The truth would have to wait.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Zetta struggled to keep pace with Ashton, even after downing a swiftness potion. The kid was a natural sprinter, jumping up and down to go even faster in a way that made Zetta tired just from watching him. She wanted to stop and lie down for a few minutes. Or a few hours. Between the bad sleep, the stress of dealing with the dragon the day before, nearly scorching herself in lava on her mining shift, and the shock of discovering her mother’s journal, she was completely overwhelmed.
But there was no time to rest.
When they arrived at the clearing, Zetta was so cranky and disoriented that she couldn’t make out Rift’s excited banter. He’d done something. Crafted something great. He pulled Zetta and Ashton over to a mechanical contraption of some sort.
“What is it?” Ashton asked.
Rift bobbed his brows. “You know how the dragon makes you throw Meechie over and over and over and over and ov—”
“Yeah, we get it,” Zetta snapped. “So what?”
“Well, I’ve solved all of our problems!” Rift took a shovel from the chest—not Meechie, just a plain wooden shovel without the face drawn on it. “All you have to do is drop the shovel in here, and…” Rift placed the shovel into a hopper, and red dust lit up all around it. Zetta heard a bunch of clicking, and then finally, the shovel shot out from the dispenser and into the woods.
“Cool!” Ashton said.
“I even taught the dragon to bring the shovel back and place it into the hopper. It was really excited. And then I just sat back and watched as the dragon chased Meechie and returned it to the contraption, over and over and over and over and over and ov—”
Zetta cleared her throat, rolled her eyes, then gave Ashton a look that said, See, I told you that everything would be okay.
“I had a bunch of extra time on my hands, I guess.” Rift shrugged. “How did things go with your father?”
“They went,” Zetta said, pulling out her mother’s notebook. “But I did discover something I think you’ll really like. Gather around, everyone.”
Rift, Zetta, and Ashton all sat on a log near the campfire upwind of the little puffs of smoke. Rayne sauntered over from the nearby stream, tossed some raw salmon onto the fire, but didn’t sit down. Though Rayne never said anything to alarm the friends about potential threats, Zetta knew Rayne’s reluctance to let their guard down around camp was because there were so many hostile mobs lurking about in the forest. Zetta tried to forget about that and flipped the notebook open to the page with the wither destroyer.
“Whoa,” Ashton said, leaning in to look at the illustration. A sketch of the wither sat in the middle of the contraption, with dozens of arrows and potions flying at it.
“Why are
the arrowheads all different colors?” Rayne asked, leaning in as well.
Zetta flipped to the next page, which detailed the arrows used and the types of magic they possessed. “The arrows are dipped in potions,” Zetta said to Rayne.
“I didn’t even know that was possible,” they said, swiping the hair out of their face to see better. “Imagine being able to poison our enemy from a hundred feet away!”
“Yes!” Zetta said. “And my aunt told me that my mother built this contraption to slay a wither. Maybe Rift could build something similar to help out with the illagers!”
Zetta looked over at Rift, who was sitting at the edge of the log, arms crossed over his chest.
“Yeah, no. That looks way too complicated. And I’m more of a ‘make pranks, not war’ kind of guy.”
Zetta nudged Rift in the shoulder. “This is your chance to contribute something useful to the town! You’ve got a great brain. You need to use it for good. Like your shovel thrower! It’s amazing that you thought of the dragon’s needs.”
“Yeah, that did feel pretty nice,” Rift mumbled. “And Rayne helped me adjust the aim. I guess I can take a look at the notebook. Maybe there’s something in there that’s a little more my speed.”
“This calls for a celebration,” Rayne said, taking out a melon and handing out slices to everyone. “Look what we found growing nearby.”
Zetta looked back and forth between the twins, a huge grin on her face. Now they were starting to feel like a proper team, and sharing a juicy melon would be a great way to celebrate. “I’ve got to admit, Ashton and I were a little worried to leave you with the dragon, but we shouldn’t have been. You both did an amazing job! Right, Ashton?”
“Yeah….” Ashton said, about to take a bite of melon when he suddenly started looking around. “Um, y’all, where’s the dragon?” he asked.
“Gone after Meechie, I told you,” Rift said. “It’s been chasing it back and forth, over and over and—”
“I get that. But shouldn’t it have been back by now?” Ashton asked. “This contraption can’t possibly throw that far…”
Rift looked blankly at Rayne, then said, “I guess it’s been a while since we actually saw the dragon bring Meechie back.”
The gleeful mood that had filled the woods a few moments before was replaced by a quiet chill. The friends all looked back and forth between one another. Zetta’s stomach went sour. She packed the melon slice away and took a deep breath.
“You lost the dragon,” Zetta accused Rift and Rayne.
“No we didn’t! It’s around here somewhere,” Rift said. “Come on, let’s go look.”
The friends ventured into the woods, the leaves brushing against Zetta’s cheeks as they got deeper and deeper. Fortunately, the dragon left behind so many busted-up tree trunks and dirt gouges that the friends could follow without a problem. They went uphill, the woods getting denser and darker, and even though the sun was still high in the sky, all the shadows around them meant they had to keep an eye out for zombies and skeletons and—
“Creeper! On the right!” Rayne said, stepping back and drawing an arrow into their bow. Right as the mob started flickering white, about to explode, Rayne unleashed four arrows in fast succession. The creature poofed, leaving nothing behind but a pile of gunpowder.
“Nice,” Rift said, going to pick up the powder, but Zetta stepped in and took it instead.
“Not trusting you with gunpowder. Can’t even trust you to take care of a baby dragon,” Zetta said, like she was one to talk. But who knew what Rift could get up to with that kind of power in his pranks.
“This way,” Ashton said, eager to get back to tracking the dragon down.
Zetta followed her cousin along, sword drawn. She heard a shuffling off in the woods, some mob walking through the underbrush, too close to leave untended. It could circle back behind and ambush them if they weren’t careful.
“I’m going to check it out,” Zetta said. “Back in a sec.”
“I’m coming with you,” Rayne said, bow drawn.
As they got closer, they heard two sets of feet moving. Rayne and Zetta looked at each other, unsure. They could take out two zombies, right? Zetta held her hand up, counted to three, then rapidly cut through the dense foliage so they’d have the element of surprise.
Staring at her were two giant black nostrils. At first, she thought it was the dragon, but when she pulled back, she saw it was just a cow.
Just a cow?
Zetta’s mind started churning. If she brought a cow back to town to replace the one they’d lost in the raid, everyone would have to forgive her for turning the mayor half invisible. Maybe they’d forget about her little lava adventure, too. She lunged for the stunned beast, but it was already spooked and started trotting off in the opposite direction.
“Help me catch it!” she said to Rayne, who was no better with animals than she was. Zetta thought about screaming for Ashton to come join them, but figured yelling would only startle the cow further.
If only she had some wheat on her, she could lure it back to camp.
After a short chase, Zetta and Rayne had the cow cornered. It mooed angrily at them. What was it even doing in the forest, anyway? Zetta didn’t ponder the question. This was her chance.
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
Rayne perked. “That’s Rift,” they said, voice heavy with concern.
Zetta listened, and could just barely hear Rift calling out their names.
“He needs us,” Rayne said. “Now.”
“But the cow!” Zetta said.
“We can come back for it.”
Zetta sighed. She knew they’d never find the cow again if they left now. She started punching a nearby tree. “Maybe I can make a fence so it doesn’t wander—”
Zetta heard Ashton’s scream next, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. In the next moment, they were both running through the woods the way they’d come. They shouldn’t have split up. They shouldn’t have chased after the cow. Instead of thinking about herself, Zetta should have been thinking about the safety of the team. She would never forgive herself if something bad happened to her cousin or Rift.
Finally, they made it back out to the main path. They kept running, following the footprints in the wet dirt.
“Rift! Ashton!” Rayne called out into the dense woods. But there was no response.
Finally, they spotted Ashton and Rift, shuffling slowly along the path, arms to their sides. The canopy above was so thick here that it only let in traces of sunlight, and yet purple light shone from every direction, blinking in and out like twinkling stars. Weird. Even weirder, Ashton and Rift kept staring at the ground. As her eyes began to adjust to the shadows, Zetta realized why.
There were endermen. Everywhere. At least twenty of the tall, black figures teleporting back and forth with no rhyme or reason. Some held grass blocks in their too-long arms. One of them nearly made eye contact with Zetta, but she quickly turned her head, only to lock eyes with the enderman standing not three feet away from her.
Its mouth opened wide, its jaw unhinging like an angry jack-o’-lantern’s, and the most spine-chilling shriek came out. Then it lunged at Zetta and struck her in the arm, a sharp attack that felt much like a bee sting, except that the feeling jolted through her whole body.
It felt as if her brain had reset for half a second, and by the time she swung her sword at the enderman, it was gone. Then it was on her other side, its piercing scream scraping against her right eardrum this time. Another strike hit her. This one to the temple.
“Run!” Ashton shouted. “Straight ahead. I can hear the dragon.”
Zetta thought it’d be best to turn around and go back the way they came, but the enderman punched her in the mouth, and then her jaw was too sore to open to say something, so she ran. She couldn’t t
ake too many more hits like that. Not when her only armor was a pair of rabbit-hide boots.
The woods started to thin. Zetta thought she could see something big and black in the clearing beyond. Definitely the dragon. It didn’t look like it normally did, though. It was breathing slowly, hunched over, almost like it was in pain. Zetta had made a point not to get too attached to the beast, but seeing it like this made her want to run over and comfort it.
But as the friends neared the dragon, enderman after enderman zapped in from nowhere, blocking their path. The endermen were acting so weird. Then all at once, they started screaming, a chorus out of a nightmare. The friends put their hands to their ears, then turned and bolted back toward camp.
The sounds of teleporting mobs were right on their heels for several minutes, but no one looked back.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The friends ran and ran until they were all locked up safe inside their little shack in the woods.
“What the heck was that?” Zetta scolded her cousin. “You can’t sneak your way through a flock of endermen! What if…what if…” She couldn’t even get the words out. What if he’d been killed?
“We were doing fine until you showed up,” Rift snapped. “We had it under control.”
“Now the dragon is out there all alone. We have to go back,” Ashton said.
Zetta shook her head. “We are not going back. The dragon is fine. It can take care of itself, and in any case, it’s definitely not alone. What was with those endermen? It was like they were guarding it.”
“We shouldn’t have split up,” Rayne said. “You had us chasing cows when we should have had Rift’s and Ashton’s backs.”
“Well, maybe if you were a better shot,” Zetta huffed, “then you could have taken out the pillager that shot our cow in the first place!”
Rift stepped in. “Same shot that killed the raider that was about to mow you down with an axe? Curious. I didn’t see you complaining about Rayne’s aim then.”
The Dragon: An Official Minecraft Novel Page 11