“What happened?” Planter’s voice was filled with sympathy.
Saddler sighed. She wiped away a tear. “They told me the zombie attacked Cobbler, and he used his pickaxe . . . as a weapon.” The woman paused, as if expecting there to be some reaction to this statement.
“So?” Cutter said. “He was protecting himself.”
“He’d sworn an oath of non-violence . . . hadn’t he?” Mapper asked, realization dawning on the old NPC’s face.
Saddler nodded.
A large cluster of mossy cobblestones barred their path. They curved around the green and gray stones, then picked up the spiders’ trail again.
“We all swore that oath, saying there was no excuse to use violence.” Saddler sniffled. “The other diggers were ashamed when Cobbler struck back with his pickaxe.”
“He was just protecting himself. No one should have to—” Watcher began.
But Saddler continued, interrupting him. “The diggers said my husband killed the zombie after taking a lot of damage, but another emerged from the shadows and finished him off. He died, alone, in that mine shaft.”
“What did the other diggers do?” Planter asked.
“They just hid in the shadows and watched as my love battled for his life . . . and lost.”
“And they were ashamed by Cobbler?!” Planter’s anger was growing. “They stood there, doing nothing, and yet judged him as the villain . . . that’s ridiculous.”
“That is the law of the village.” Saddler wiped her cheek with a dirty sleeve.
“Saddler, I’m so sorry.” Planter moved next to her and wrapped an arm around her. She squeezed the woman tight.
“All I have left from Cobbler is his pickaxe.” She pulled the iron tool from her inventory. The wooden handle was painted with delicate, child-like flowers, and curving vines spiraled up to the metallic head. “Fencer decorated this for her father; it was his favorite possession in the world, and I will never part with it while I still draw breath.” She paused. “After that tragedy, Fencer became my entire world and the only reason to continue living. And now she’s on the brink of death.” She glanced desperately at Watcher. “You must help her.”
“We will,” Watcher replied. “We’ll catch that witch and get a Notch apple from her . . . that will heal your little girl, I promise.”
She nodded, then glanced back at the ground, the colorful pickaxe clutched tightly to her chest.
“Why aren’t we gaining on the spiders?” Blaster asked, his black leather armor making him nearly invisible in the dark forest.
“Look at this.” Mapper bent down and picked up a bottle from where the empty vessel had been discarded next to a tree. “It seems as if the spiders dropped this. There’s still some potion in it.”
He wafted the vapors to his nose, smelling the contents. Tipping the container, he put the smallest drop on his finger and put it to his lips. “Potion of swiftness . . . that’s why we aren’t getting any closer.”
“Spiders are faster than NPCs on foot. They probably made the witch drink it so she could keep up,” Cutter said. “They must be afraid of us.”
“Or maybe their captive is more important than we are,” Blaster said.
Watcher nodded in agreement. “Likely they’ll only attack if they have superior numbers. I don’t think they want to risk losing the witch.”
Cutter took the bottle from Mapper and smelled the contents, then cast the bottle aside. “When they have more spiders, you can be sure they’ll turn and attack.”
“That witch must be important to them.” Saddler adjusted her iron helmet, pulling some of her long black hair from her face and tucking it behind an ear. “But she’s more important to me.” She put Builder’s pickaxe away and drew her iron sword again. Glancing at each companion, she gave them a look of grim determination, then started running again, following the spidery trail.
“Saddler, doesn’t a battle with the spiders make you scared?” Planter asked the villager as she caught up to the running mother. “You seem so confident, as if fear can’t touch you for some reason.”
The villager glanced at Planter, then reached out and ran her fingers through the girl’s long blond hair. “My daughter, Fencer, has hair much like yours. Cobbler used to say it was like liquid sunshine.”
“Don’t worry, we’re gonna catch those spiders and save that witch.” Watcher’s voice was barely a whisper. “Then we’ll get a golden Notch apple for Fencer.”
“But how are we going to catch them?” Saddler was almost in tears as frustration bubbled up inside her, filling her voice. “They’re too fast for us. We’ll never save that witch.”
“I don’t know, but we’ll think of something. You just need to trust me and trust all of us. We stand with our friends; their problems become our problems, and right now, saving Fencer is our problem.”
Saddler sighed, but it sounded as if some of the frustration and worry had evaporated away.
“Er-Lan smells something.” The zombie moved to Saddler’s side, his short, stubby claws extended.
Watcher stopped and moved behind a tree, the others doing the same. Peering around the trunk, he scanned the forest, looking for threats. Nothing moved. Ahead, the tall forest seemed devoid of any motion. The gentle sway of the ferns and blades of grass was gone, as if an invisible hand had stopped their motion. Even the animals in the forest seemed to feel the tension and fell silent. The hairs on the back of Watcher’s neck stood up, the warning driving icicles of fear into every nerve and chilling his blood.
“What do you see?” Planter stood next to him. “I thought I saw something move.”
Watcher remained motionless, allowing his eyes to take in the entire scene. And then he saw it: something moving out from behind a cluster of mossy cobblestone blocks. He glanced at Planter and smiled, then laughed and moved out from behind the tree.
“It’s just a bunny.” Watcher walked toward the cluster of green cobblestone and smiled.
More rabbits emerged from the shrubs, the black and white bunnies mixing in with chocolate browns.
“Ahhh . . . they’re so cute.” Planter ran forward and picked one up.
The creature nuzzled its furry head against her cheek. An expression of joy spread across Planter’s face. It made Watcher happy to see her so enraptured in delight.
“Great job finding the rabbits.” Cutter smiled sarcastically at Watcher.
The boy rolled his eyes, then turned back to the others. “Come on, everyone, there’s nothing dangerous here.” Watcher continued running with Saddler in lockstep beside him. “Let’s keep moving. We have a spider horde to catch.”
They eventually slowed to a walk, everyone, including Watcher, tired from the chase. Moving next to Planter, he looked down at the black and white bunny she held in her hands.
“Have you been carrying that all this time?” Watcher asked.
Planter glanced at him with her bright green eyes. She said something, but Watcher wasn’t paying attention; he was lost in those emerald pools.
“What?” He asked, shaking his head.
“I said ‘No, I just found this one and picked her up.’” She smiled as she scratched the fluffy animal’s ears. “Aren’t they fantastic?”
“It’s just a rabbit.” Cutter’s voice boomed through the forest, always louder than necessary.
Planter scowled at the big warrior, but he was too distracted adjusting his armor to notice.
Watcher smiled.
“I didn’t know rabbits were part of the mega taiga biome,” she said.
“Yep, there are lots of animals in this forest.” Mapper paused to catch his breath, then continued. “Let’s see, there are chickens and sheep and wolves and—”
“Wolves?” A concerned expression came across Planter’s face. “Don’t wolves eat rabbits?”
“Wolves eat just about whatever they want to eat,” Cutter added. The big warrior moved between Planter and Watcher, feigning interest in the tiny animal in her arm
s. His armor clanked as he walked, scaring the little rabbit. It squirmed in Planters arms, then jumped to the ground and scurried away. Cutter just grinned. “I love wolves. They’re a ferocious animal that knows how to fight and won’t just run away when attacked. Wolves are a creature to be respected.”
“Standing your ground isn’t always the right thing to do,” Watcher pointed out.
Cutter remained silent, as if he was ignoring the comment.
“Mapper, you have any idea where these spiders are heading?” Planter asked as she stopped walking and pulled out a loaf of bread, taking a huge bite.
“I’m not quite sure,” the old man replied. “I saw some ancient structures built by the wizards on the map, but the spiders don’t seem to be heading toward them. It’s almost as if they just want us to follow them. . . . It’s strange.”
Just then, a sound, like distant thunder, floated through the forest. The noise was almost imperceptible, but often even the faintest sounds were still detected by Watcher’s sensitive ears.
“Did any of you hear that?” The boy scanned the forest for threats.
“Hear what?” Cutter drew his diamond sword and held it at the ready.
“I thought I heard something like thunder, but look up . . . there are almost no clouds overhead.” Watcher glanced up and could easily see the sparkling stars overhead, with just the occasional cloud drifting by.
“I didn’t hear anything.” The big warrior surveyed their surroundings one more time, then put away his sword. “I think it was nothing, or maybe something from that famous imagination I’ve heard so much about.”
Watcher blushed when Planter giggled, then put away his bow.
“It’s okay, Watcher, sometimes I hear things too,” Mapper said in a soothing voice.
“But I felt something in the ground rumble as well, like a very faint tremor.” Watcher lowered his voice and whispered to the old man. “Something’s coming toward us . . . I can feel it.”
“Just keep it to yourself until you know what it is for sure,” the old man whispered back. “We don’t want to panic everyone for no reason.”
“Right.” Watcher nodded, but he knew his face showed what he was feeling: fear.
Er-Lan moved next to Watcher and grabbed his arm. “This is the forest.”
“What?”
“From the vision,” the zombie said. “The black rain . . . it draws near.”
Glancing to the sky, Watcher checked again for storm clouds. “I can see the stars, Er-Lan. There aren’t any clouds up there. I think you’re mistaken about the black rain.”
“Visions are never mistakes.” Er-Lan glanced around, fear covering his scarred face. “All must be careful . . . the black rain comes.”
Watcher nodded and patted his friend on the back, then refocused his attention on their surroundings. They continued through the spruce forest, the massive trees looming high overhead, their tops barely visible in the darkness. The path before them was difficult to see, as the few rays of moonlight piercing the leafy canopy were not very bright. Only Watcher’s keen eyes could still discern the trail of the spiders.
Suddenly, a clicking sound seemed to filter down through the branches and leaves ahead. Watcher skidded to a stop and peered into the forest. A small opening in the dark canopy overhead, letting moonlight shine to the forest floor, pushing back on the night. It allowed Watcher to see the forest just around him, but sections further away were completely masked in darkness; anything could be out there, including that rumbling something.
Just then, a huge cluster of clouds floated across the moon’s pockmarked face, masking its lunar glow and causing a black, velvety curtain of darkness to envelop the forest. More things clicked in the treetops.
“Everyone look around.” Watcher’s voice was barely a whisper.
“I don’t see anything,” Cutter boomed dismissively.
“Shhhh.” Planter took out her enchanted shield and golden axe. An iridescent glow surrounded the girl from from the weapons’ purple radiance.
With his bow in his hand and a sparkling fire arrow notched to the string, Watcher closed his eyes and allowed his ears to direct his attention. He listened to the strange clicking, then finally recognized it.
“Spiders . . .” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “In the trees.”
Drawing back on the bowstring, he aimed at the clicking noises, focusing his shot on the sounds overhead. Stilling his body and his mind, he released the arrow. Instantly, it burst into life as it streaked through the air, flames licking its pointed tip. A magical halo of light surrounded the shaft as it flew, shining a radiant glow on the treetops.
Planter gasped, pointing. “Spiders in the trees!”
Watcher’s arrow sliced through the air and embedded itself with a thunk into the thick bark of a towering spruce. The flickering glow suddenly revealed countless spiders, all descending from the forest roof at the end of thin strands of spider silk.
“Fire at the spiders!” Watcher launched more of his fire arrows at the treetops, lighting the green canopy so the others could see.
His companions pulled out bows and launched arrows at the creatures descending from the treetops like a dark, deadly rain. Pointed shafts streaked through the air, striking the spiders’ dark, fuzzy bodies. The monsters screeched in pain, clicking their mandibles together rapidly. One of them disappeared, its glowing balls of XP falling to the ground like a multicolored hail.
“Work in pairs,” Watcher ordered as he fired at a nearby spider with his flaming arrow. “Fire at the same spiders!”
Moving next to Planter, he pointed at a spider, then fired. Their arrows flew in parallel, both hitting the creature in the side. After another volley, the fuzzy creature disappeared, adding more colorful XP to the ground. They fired as fast as they could, but there were so many spiders, it was hard to tell if it made any difference. The monsters slowly moved down their thin strands of web, their eyes glowing like hot, angry embers.
All throughout the forest, the lethal rain fell. There were scores of spiders descending on their gossamer strands, and even more clicking still coming from the treetops.
“They’re all around us.” Planters fired at a nearby monster, cutting through its web. The creature fell to the ground screaming, then became silent.
Watcher turned, taking in everything around him. There were just too many of them; their arrows weren’t slowing the mob at all. Some were near and easier to shoot, but others were far away, their dark, fuzzy bodies merging with the darkness; they were impossible to hit.
“I don’t like this.” Mapper fired his bow as fast as he could, but everyone knew he was a terrible shot. “When they all reach the ground, they’ll charge and overwhelm us.”
“Just keep shooting.” Blaster shot at the monsters nearest to the ground, his shafts hitting with deadly accuracy. When the first of the spiders touched down, he took out his dual curved knives and charged at them.
“Blaster, wait!” Watcher yelled, but the boy ignored him.
The spiders clicked their mandibles together excitedly as Blaster streaked toward the monsters, his dark armor making him nearly invisible. He slashed at the creatures as he darted by, tearing into their HP. Some, who had been wounded by the arrows, disappeared under the first knife thrusts, while others lingered a bit before the boy destroyed them.
“Blaster, get back here!” Cutter boomed. “More spiders are landing on the ground. We need to stick together.”
The monsters continued to settle noiselessly on the ground, forming a thick, angry circle of claws and fangs around the villagers. Blaster dashed back to his friends and stood between Cutter and Mapper. The companions held their weapons at the ready as hundreds of angry red eyes glared at them from the darkness.
“We’re surrounded,” Watcher moaned, the taste of defeat heavy on his soul. “Everyone get back-to-back and form a circle.”
The villagers pressed their backs together, with Mapper and Er-Lan at the center. Th
e old man fumbled with potions, but he had nothing that would harm the spiders. Watcher fired as quickly as he could, drawing and nocking like a seasoned warrior, the other villagers doing the same, but their sharp hail of arrows had little effect. There were so many spiders approaching, the flow of pointed shafts was insignificant.
“Er-Lan saw the black rain,” the zombie moaned. “The visions are always true . . . always true.”
“I don’t suppose you saw how this ends?” Blaster glanced at the zombie between firing arrows.
“Er-Lan only receives glimpses, no more.” The monster sounded terrified, but grew silent as the last of the spiders reached the forest floor.
Suddenly, the fuzzy black creatures stopped clicking their mandibles and became eerily quiet. An uneasy silence spread through the forest as all those blazing red eyes stared at the small band of NPCs. The spiders moved forward slowly, their fuzzy black bodies bumping into each other, making it hard for them all to approach; that was the only thing delaying their charge.
Watcher slowly lowered his bow. We’re trapped . . . it’s over, he realized as he glanced at Planter and a sadness such as he’d never experienced washed over him.
“Keep firing,” Cutter yelled, but Watcher was numb to everything, the feeling of despair overwhelming his mind.
The ground shook again, as it did before, but this time, the thunder boomed from the darkness, as if the storm were about to descend upon them. But it didn’t matter; he’d failed, and now all his friends would be destroyed as well.
Planter, I failed you the most, he thought. You relied on me to keep you safe, and I foolishly thought I could do it, but my courage was just a lie. Drawing another arrow, he raised his bow again and shot at one of the closest spiders, but knew the situation was hopeless.
Maybe that storm will just wash us all away and end this nightmare, he thought as he fired as fast as he could, hitting spider after spider as their circle of claws drew tighter around the defenders, getting ready for the final charge.
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