The Dragon: An Official Minecraft Novel

by Nicky Drayden

  The mayor grabbed the sandstone block sitting on the stage and walked toward the bell tower. “It took us a week to get our town back together, with everyone chipping in, working day and night. And this stone here is the very last block that needs to be placed to make our town whole again.”

  Like so many of the buildings in town, the bell tower had been badly damaged in the raid, and now the mayor shoved the stone block into the only remaining gap. Warm applause filled the streets for nearly a whole minute. It was contagious. Electrifying. It was perfect.

  Just like the dragon.

  “And now, without further ado, the winner of this year’s mob festival is the float entitled ‘The Ender Dragon’ operated by Ashton Night, Zetta Night, Rayne Solomon-Lee, and Rift Solomon-Lee!”

  More applause. Zetta and her friends made their way up to the stage, with Ashton staying back with the dragon, just in case. Little kids in hostile mob costumes danced around him, their pudgy little hands petting the dragon all over, and Ashton didn’t seem even a little bit concerned the dragon would hurt any of them. The dragon loved all the attention. More friends never hurt.

  Zetta stood a few feet behind the podium at the center of the stage where she’d give her speech. She felt her stomach drop to her feet. This was it. The moment she was excited about and at the same time feared more than anything else. It was her time to tell the truth about the dragon being real and hope for the best.

  She looked out into the crowd of beaming faces. Both her grandparents were there, waving excitedly. Zetta even saw Rift and Rayne’s parents grinning at them, so proud. Perhaps her friends had had no reason to worry. Zetta warmly accepted the trophy from the mayor, then stepped up to the podium.

  “Hi!” Her voice came out like a squeak. Zetta cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello, Sienna Dunes. We thank you so much for your enthusiasm for our float. I know it’s been a difficult time for a lot of people, but in this time of hardship, it’s nice to have friends and family to lean on. I’m accepting this award on behalf of our team, but I couldn’t have done it without Rift and Rayne, and especially my cousin Ashton over there.”

  The mayor smiled and gently pushed Zetta away. “Thank you so much for that amazing speech—”

  “Wait!” Zetta said. “I’m not done. We have something very important to add.”

  The mayor laughed and pushed a pair of glasses onto her nose as she looked down at a piece of paper. “Don’t we all! And I’d personally like to thank the sponsors of this year’s Eve of Hostile Mobs festival. Benjamin’s Slime Shop, providing slime cubes of exceptional quality to Sienna Dunes for over fifteen years. And let’s not forget Julian’s Fish and Chips, serving prime salmon and cod, cooked to perfection. If you’re feeling brave, there’s the Friday pufferfish special—finish the whole plate without getting sick, and you eat for free!”

  Zetta tried to push her way back in front of the podium, but Mayor Maxine gave her that too-tight smile again and bumped her out of the way. “Why don’t you show that shiny gold trophy off to the rest of your team,” the mayor said. “And today’s fruit feast was brought to you by my favorite grocer, and yours, Gloriana! Can we get a round of applause for that melon sculpture shaped like a sea turtle? What a work of art! And let’s hear it for all of our magnificent vendors today.”

  Applause erupted again.

  “Our float!” Zetta shouted, realizing her chance was drawing to a close. Soon the crowd would empty from the streets. “It’s not actually a float. It’s a real ender dragon and we want it to help protect our—”

  But the audience was too loud for her words to cut through. Fireworks exploded overhead. Dozens and dozens of them. Green and lime green and white, dazzling the crowd against the evening sky. She’d forgotten about them. Usually it was the best part of the festivities, watching the display as the night set in, but when Zetta looked back at the dragon, she could see in its eyes that it was spooked.

  Big-time.

  Its tail swayed nervously, though all eyes were focused on the sky, so nobody noticed. Ashton tried to calm the dragon, but it wasn’t working. The dragon broke away from him, gruffing and huffing and flapping its wings. Zetta, Rift, and Rayne sprinted over, each grabbing a bamboo pole and trying to pull the dragon back into submission, but this just made the dragon angrier. It tore loose of the leads. It thrashed and bit at the poles tethered to its body, destroying several of the food carts set up nearby. The overturned fruit was crushed under its giant paws, and a vat of boiling stew spilled on its tail.

  The dragon yelped out and its tail slammed into the side of the just-restored bell tower, obliterating a huge section of blocks. Sandstone dust flew everywhere as the dragon scurried away from the crowd and the noise, but not before doing a massive shake that dislodged most of the paper flowers glued to its scales. The overly cute dragon float didn’t look quite so cute anymore.

  Screams came next, lots of them. Ashton tried to take off after the dragon, but Nana was suddenly as spry as the desert was dry, and grabbed him by the shirt collar. “I need to have a word with you, Ashton,” Nana said, looking fierce.

  Zetta looked back at her dad. He was running too, toward her. But she couldn’t get caught. She dug in and sprinted toward the dragon, bending down to scoop up a fallen apple to munch on since hunger was starting to burn in her stomach. She didn’t have any more swiftness potions, so she tried the little sprint jumping trick Ashton was always doing. It did seem to give her a little extra speed, though the world bobbing up and down like that made her dizzy. But dizziness didn’t matter right now. Zetta needed to do everything she could to stop the dragon before it caused more damage.

  She ran, sprinting as fast as she could, until she was in front of the dragon, staring it straight down.

  “Stop!” she called to it, channeling her inner Ashton. “Halt. Heel. Stay. Sit! Stop!” The dragon kept barreling right at her, not slowing down. Zetta knew that this was no time to play chicken with a beast ten times her size, but what choice did she have at this point?

  But the dragon did stop. It stared at Zetta. It breathed in and out, calm coming over its eyes. Zetta couldn’t believe it. She went to grab the last remaining lead to usher the dragon to safety, but a different type of shout came from behind her. Shouts not of fear, but of bloodlust. Zetta turned around and saw several dozen townspeople, marching toward the dragon, all bearing swords.

  And these swords were definitely not made from paper flowers.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “You have to get the dragon out of here!” Ashton, still caught in their grandmother’s clutches, shouted at Zetta. “Now! Fly it out of here.”

  Fly? On a dragon? By herself? She’d done it once before. Surely she could do it again. She sidled up to the dragon, but it was having none of that and shifted away from her, purple eyes large and glassy.

  “Look, I know you’re scared. I’m scared, too, but if you don’t let me ride you, we’re both going to be in a lot of trouble.” The shouts were getting closer, and those sharp swords were nearly within striking distance. She didn’t think they had enough time, so she pulled out her last potion of invisibility and tried to force it into the dragon’s mouth. The dragon hissed at her, and she backed off. She didn’t think it would use its poison on her, but she wasn’t a hundred percent sure.

  “Please, please, just drink it,” she pleaded. Zetta tried again, but the dragon bucked this time, wings opening wide and knocking the glass out of the grocery store window. The display was full of fresh eggs, neatly stacked in cartons of twelve. Another flap of the dragon’s wings and they all went spilling into the street. Chicks hatched from some of the eggs, maybe thirty or forty of them, creating a smoke screen of feathers and squawking. The other eggs smashed into the ground, becoming a slick, yolky mess, and between these two obstacles, the vengeful townspeople came to a halt, trying to step closer but slipping and falling int
o each other.

  Zetta noticed she was standing in front of the blacksmith’s shop. It sold the best pickaxes and swords and axes, but she hadn’t been able to afford anything in there the last time she’d browsed. She saw an iron shovel sitting in the display window, the glass broken out now due to the dragon’s antics.

  Maybe Zetta had one last trick up her sleeve. She carefully reached through the broken glass, grabbed the shovel, and then held it up to the dragon. It wasn’t Meechie, but the dragon still seemed to take some interest. Zetta started running, and the dragon chased after her. She didn’t stop until they were far away from town, almost all the way back to their caves. Zetta knew they couldn’t stay here long. The mayor would send a search party, and they would almost certainly look here. But it was a good place to rest in the meantime.

  “I’m sorry, Dragon,” Zetta said. “I didn’t mean to put you in such a dangerous situation. I forgot all about the fireworks. I hope you can forgive me.”

  The dragon was resting now, and just snorted at her. Forgiveness might be a long while coming. She’d let the dragon down twice now. Maybe it was time to admit defeat. She’d have to take the dragon back to her aunt Meryl’s place, and if the dragon wasn’t going to let her ride it, then it was going to be a long, long walk.

  Zetta needed to get through to the dragon, and soon. How could she build up trust quickly? Maybe that was the wrong question. Trust didn’t come quickly. But how could she have patience when there were people hunting the dragon this very second? Zetta slowed down, took some deep breaths. She remembered what Ashton had said about the dragon’s sensing her nervousness.

  She untensed her muscles, eased the frown on her face into a smile, then thought of something pleasant she could be doing instead of worrying and fretting over the next few hours of her life. If she had that much longer to live.

  Zetta turned her back to the dragon and went to the shovel thrower. Meechie was still tucked safely inside, so she took it out and tossed it up and down, spinning it around like a baton. She made up a little song about it as she twirled.

  Dragon, Dragon. Friend or foe?

  Maybe we shall never know.

  Tough as bedrock, black as night

  Your eyes, they shine a purple bright.

  Please forgive me really soon,

  And fly us high up toward the moon.

  Trust me now, it’s time to go.

  Dragon, Dragon. Friend or foe?

  Behind her, the dragon had stopped its snorting and huffing, but Zetta didn’t dare look back at it. She kept singing and twirling until she heard soft padded footsteps get closer, then stop. The dragon made a little purring sound she hadn’t heard it make since it was just a pup. Still Zetta didn’t acknowledge the dragon. Instead she hummed softly and slowed her twirling.

  The dragon was so close now, she could feel its breath on the back of her neck. It made a louder purr, like it wanted her to throw the shovel already, but she didn’t. Instead, she tossed the stick up really high in the air, and then caught it. The dragon bumped her back gently. Zetta turned around, acting like she was surprised to see the dragon there.

  “Oh!” she said. “Hi, Dragon.” She smiled, then turned back around and started flipping Meechie some more. The dragon came around so that they were facing each other now. It stooped into a play bow, paws out and bottom stretched up, that long tail wagging back and forth.

  “So now you like me again,” she said. “I’ll throw it if you let me pet you.” She offered the dragon the back of her hand first. It gave it a little sniff and didn’t back up when she approached. She went as slowly as she could stand and petted it once on the snout, then backed up and threw the shovel. The dragon ran after it and returned it to her feet.

  “Okay, good job! Now I’m going to pet you a little closer to your horns, okay?” Zetta petted the dragon twice this time, then threw the shovel again. She worked slowly, until she was petting it on the back of the neck. Then she mounted it for a couple seconds before hopping back off. Between throws of the shovel—there must have been nearly fifty in all—Zetta slowly worked her way to sitting upon the dragon for a full three minutes. When the dragon didn’t seem to mind at all, she patted it.

  It was getting darker, and she could see torches in the distance. They were still searching the desert for Zetta and the dragon, and they were getting closer.

  “Okay, Dragon. I’ve been patient. But I really need you to fly for me now.” Zetta leaned forward, just as Ashton had done, and gave the fly command. The dragon’s wings didn’t flutter, not even a little. She leaned forward again, and gave the dragon a little jostle with her heel. It huffed, and suddenly seemed aggravated to have her up there on its back.

  “Sorry, sorry!” Zetta said, keeping an eye on the torches. They were moving directly toward her and the dragon now, with a sense of purpose. She must have been spotted. “Okay. Please, Dragon. Please!” She made the clicking noise that Ashton often used.

  This time when Zetta leaned forward, she felt the dragon shift as well. Its massive wings came unfurled and flapped, and soon after that, the wind was slapping Zetta in the face and they were airborne. It felt amazing. The dragon took her commands like they’d been working together forever. She thought about steering them straight toward her aunt’s place, but Zetta was pretty sure they’d decide to look there next. She circled around again and again, mind churning for a safe place to go while the moon shone like a beacon overhead. It was magnificent, flying like this, bonding with the dragon. She knew it would soon be over, though. Her aunt would be home from her adventure, and her time with the dragon would come to an end. Zetta was glad they hadn’t given the dragon a name. It would have made it that much harder to say goodbye.

  Zetta wiped what was definitely not a tear from her eye. Just the wind blowing too hard in her face. As she searched the rolling desert vista for a safe place to hide, among the sandy dunes and craggy cliffs, she spotted something—a large building, several stories high, with a large dome up top. There were lots of figures gathered nearby, milling around. Animals, too. Zetta thought it was odd. She didn’t know of any other desert towns this close to theirs, and besides, it wasn’t really a town, just a single building.

  Curious, she guided the dragon down to get a better look, but when she saw the gray, angry faces all looking back up at her, she immediately wished she hadn’t. They were illagers. Dozens and dozens of them, with several of those ravager beasts chained up, raring to go. And Zetta had a bad, bad feeling that she knew exactly where they were heading.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Zetta needed to get back to town and warn Mayor Maxine, but there was no way the mayor would believe her now, especially without proof. Zetta knew what she had to do. She had to get closer to this pillager outpost and grab something, anything that would prove that she’d seen what she’d seen. So she steered the dragon away from the outpost and toward a large, sandy hill and landed behind it. She tossed Meechie to the dragon to keep it busy, along with a command to stay. The dragon seemed to smile at her before it started gnawing on the end of the shovel.

  Then Zetta downed an invisibility potion in three gulps and waited for the tingling sensation to kick in. She was invisible. Totally invisible. Oh, but as she looked down, she saw her boots again. Oops. She took them off and stashed them in her pack. She was completely vulnerable with no armor at all, but she didn’t have a choice.

  She trekked through the desert, until she was close enough to the outpost to hear the chatter of illagers. Zetta couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they seemed aggravated. Even more so than usual. Were they still humiliated by the beating they’d taken from her friends and neighbors? Probably. This raid would be several times larger than the last. There must have been several different clans present, all set on decimating Zetta’s little town. Sienna Dunes would be torn apart in minutes.

  Z
etta kept her eyes open for something that would make good proof. She saw a chest filled with axes and crossbows, but those things were easy enough for anybody to craft. A banner would be perfect. There was one leaning up against the stone wall of the outpost, decorated with an angry gray face and beady blue eyes. But as soon as she took a few steps toward it, one of the raiders grabbed it and hoisted it up overhead. So much for that idea. Well, maybe a ravager harness would work? Zetta didn’t think anyone would be able to craft one of those, and no way would anyone be willing to re-create that distinctly awful ravager smell…kind of like the smell at the bottom of a moldy compost bin, but so much worse.

  There were several ravagers milling about behind a fence, all of them distracted by the comings and goings of the illagers. Zetta walked slowly and silently to their pen, coming within inches of an illager dressed differently from the others, wearing a long black robe with a band of gold running down the front of it. He just stood there, like he was in a trance, arms crossed in front of him.

  Weird, Zetta thought, but she pressed past him. As she did, his head turned quickly toward her, and his eyes widened and seemed to be drilling right at Zetta. A scream nearly escaped her, but she swallowed it back down. She bit down on her knuckle and kept walking, sure that her invisibility potion was still working, though she didn’t want to risk being here longer than she needed to be.

  She arrived at the ravager pen, and when she was sure no one was watching, she unlatched the gate and slipped inside. There were five ravagers, their enormous hooves tearing up the dirt below them. Zetta had to remind herself that even though she was invisible, she wasn’t invincible, and there were ten pointed horns among the beasts, any of which could impale her.

  She decided one of the beasts seemed more docile than the others, though that was a bit like picking the least explosive creeper out of a group. The ravager could still trample her if it spooked, so she slowly worked the first buckle of the harness loose, then the next. She was then able to slide it off and let it fall gently to the dirt. She looked around cautiously now. To anyone who’d seen anything, it would have looked like the harness had simply come undone and slipped off. She waited a few more seconds, then started to slide the harness away from the beast’s feet, very slowly, almost at a creep. A harness moving on its own would definitely draw suspicion.