by Greyson Mann
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.
Special thanks to Erin L. Falligant.
Cover illustration by Grace Sandford
Cover design by Brian Peterson
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5107-1333-8
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-1332-1
Printed in Canada
CHAPTER 1
Plink!
Something cold and wet pinged onto Will’s forehead and dripped down his cheek. He glanced at the icy structure towering above him. It must be twenty feet tall! he guessed, shading his eyes to see the top.
Jagged ice sculptures littered the landscape. Traveling through them, Will felt as if he were surrounded by an army of iron golems.
It was slow going—cold, wet, and slippery. But crossing the ice plains was the only way to get to the taiga biome. He gazed at the snowcapped mountain range ahead. He was so close now!
In just a few hours, he would wander through the spruce forest at the top of those hills. Throw snowballs. And finally build a snow golem, he thought with a happy shiver.
He looked back at his sled, where a flame-orange pumpkin rested in a nest of blankets. His brother, Seth, thought he was foolish for bringing that heavy pumpkin all the way from the farm. But what’s a snow golem without a pumpkin? thought Will. Just a boring old snowman. If he put a pumpkin on its head, the snowman would come to life as a snow golem—at least, that’s what he’d heard.
Will grinned at the thought. Then he tightened his blue woolen cape around his shoulders and gave the sled a gentle tug.
Before he could take more than a few steps, a black rabbit hopped across his path. It paused to sniff the air, its whiskers trembling.
“Hey, little fella!” called Will. His voice sounded strange and hollow. When was the last time he had spoken to someone?
Will usually traveled with his friend Mina. But this time, they had agreed to split up. He had set out north to the taiga. And she had said something about going south, toward the desert. That’s okay, thought Will. I’ll have my own adventure. But he had to admit, he’d gotten used to having Mina by his side.
Seeing peaceful mobs like that rabbit made him feel less lonely. There was another one now! The black rabbits were easy to spot against the snow, like ink splotches on a fresh sheet of paper.
Will watched the rabbit hopping toward him—quickly, as if it were being chased. It was moving so fast!
But, wait … that was no rabbit. As Will watched, the ink splotch grew in size. It wasn’t really hopping—it was bounding. And as it barreled across the icy landscape, Will suddenly realized what it was.
A wolf.
And it was heading directly for him.
Wolves don’t attack people, Will reminded himself. Not unless we attack them first. But his racing heart wouldn’t listen. He fought the urge to turn and flee, knowing he’d never outrun the animal on this slippery path.
He grabbed his bow and arrow, but the bow was stuck on something—the strap of the sled! As the wolf grew closer, Will yanked at the bow in a panic. C’mon! he thought, tugging harder. But it wouldn’t budge.
The wolf leaped over an icy boulder as if it were no bigger than a pebble in its path. And then he was just a few feet away, snapping and snarling at Will.
This is it, thought Will, feeling a trickle of dread run down his spine. He’s going to attack!
CHAPTER 2
As the wolf crouched low, his back flat, Will froze—bracing for battle.
Just before the wolf sprang forward, a gruff voice rang out across the plains.
“Winston, SIT!”
The dog whirled around toward the voice. He cocked his head and whined. And then, miraculously, he sat.
A round man with a rust-red beard popped out from behind an ice pillar and lumbered toward Will. His leather chest plate bobbed up and down as his heavy boots crunched through the ice.
Will held his breath. He’d been taught to trust no one while exploring the Overworld. But this man looked friendly enough.
“Sorry, lad,” the man said. “The dog was just protecting me, so he was. Me name’s Bagley.” He extended a meaty hand.
“That’s a dog?” said Will. “He looks like a wolf!” Except on second glance, he didn’t anymore. The dog had lowered himself to his belly and was resting his chin on the ice.
“I tamed ‘im,” explained Bagley. “A skeleton bone was all it took. And now he’s loyal to me, so it seems.”
He tamed a wolf? Will’s jaw dropped. He had once tamed an ocelot in the jungle. He had named the cat Shadow and brought it back to live with Seth on the farm near Little Oak. But a wolf? That was a whole different animal.
He shivered, remembering how the dog had bared his teeth just a moment ago. “But wolves aren’t supposed to attack people,” said Will. “Why did he come after me?”
Bagley chuckled, his ruddy cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “T’was my fault,” he said. “I saw a speck of blue and thought ye might be a zombie. Winston sensed my fear, so he did. It’s the zombie siege in Birch Grove that’s got me nerves rattled.”
“Zombies? In Birch Grove?” said Will. He wasn’t fond of zombies, but he wasn’t really afraid of them either. They were usually too slow to do much damage. But Birch Grove was awfully close to Little Oak, Will’s hometown.
Bagley nodded solemnly. “They strike the town at night and burst into flames at daybreak. And those birch houses are like kindling. When zombies burn, they can set houses aflame too.”
That won’t happen in Little Oak, thought Will. Seth had helped build the houses there. And they were as sturdy as could be.
But Bagley didn’t seem so sure. “I’m traveling to meet me friend in the hills,” he said, “to see how far this siege has spread. I’ll be back in the morning. So perhaps our paths will cross again in the taiga, lad.”
With another shake of Will’s hand, Bagley set off across the plains. And Will pushed forward toward his adventure in the snowy taiga.
It’s already been an adventure, he thought. So far, I was mistaken for a zombie and met a wolf named Winston!
As he glanced over his shoulder at the dog, he decided to add a third item to his taiga t
o-do list:
1. Throw snowballs.
2. Build a snow golem.
3. Tame a wolf.
At the top of the hill, Will sucked in his breath, taking in the winter wonderland.
White icing lined every tree branch. Blue-gray grass circled the trunks below. Bright red poppies and brown mushrooms poked through the carpet of snow. And fresh flakes fell like confetti, as if to say, “Welcome, Will. Welcome to the taiga!”
Curiosity led him higher to a cluster of moss-covered rocks. If he climbed them, he might be able to see down both sides of the mountain.
Sure enough, from his slippery stoop, he could see the ice plains stretching toward the horizon. And down the opposite side of the mountain, he spotted a pond. A fishing pond? Or was it frozen over? He craned his neck, looking for movement on the surface of the water.
But the only movement came from the slippery rocks beneath his feet. As his foot slid sideways, he teetered. He wobbled one way, then the other, and finally fell forward—catching his knees on the edge of the sled. Ouch!
The sled began to inch forward as if in slow motion.
Will lunged to grab the strap—just in time. One finger hooked the loop, and he hung on tight, sprawled on his belly across the snow.
But the sudden stop knocked the pumpkin off its base of blankets. It rolled like a basketball down the sled. And with two quick bounces, it disappeared from sight.
CHAPTER 3
“No!” Will roared as he leaped to his feet. He let go of the sled, and realized his mistake as it zoomed down the hill.
Will raced after it, following the pumpkin-turned-snowball as it bounced toward the lake. Then suddenly he was tumbling, too, gathering speed as he rolled down the hillside.
Sky. Snow. Sky. Snow. Sky. Snow.
He closed his eyes and braced for impact. Would it be water or ice? He wasn’t sure—he didn’t even know what to hope for.
As the ground began to level off, Will heard a distant crack. He slid sideways onto the ice and gradually came to a stop, staring up at the blue sky.
He lay still for a moment, until frigid water began to seep through his clothes. Then he remembered.
The pumpkin!
He shot straight up, searching. It wasn’t hard to spot the orange gourd on the surface of the frozen pond. And Will instantly saw the jagged crack in its side.
He walked across the ice, slipping every few steps, and sank to his knees. One side of the pumpkin was ruined—and so were Will’s dreams of making a snow golem.
And after I dragged that heavy pumpkin all the way here! he wanted to scream. He wanted to stomp on the pumpkin, crush it to a gooey pulp. But he didn’t. Because the cracked gourd reminded him of something—a Jack o’ Lantern.
Mina had told him once that she’d seen a snow golem made with a Jack o’ Lantern head. So maybe there was hope for this pumpkin yet.
He lugged the pumpkin toward the sled, which had come to a halt at the edge of the pond.
And that’s when Will saw the dark, gaping hole at the base of the hill ahead. It was a cave. A shelter! he realized.
He hurried toward the opening, hoping he’d find food, heat, and supplies inside. That would make his first night here in the taiga much easier.
Sure enough, a furnace sat in the middle of the crude shelter. Will held his palm a few inches above the stone oven, hoping for warmth. It was ice cold, but a bucket on the floor held lumps of coal.
Next to the bucket, Will found a sack of potatoes. Just beyond that, in a cozy corner of the cave, lay a fleece dog bed. A red collar hung from a nail above the bed, and an empty water bowl rested beside it. Is this Bagley’s shelter? Will wondered. Did Winston sleep here last night?
He felt a tingle of excitement, thinking about taming his own wolf. He’d made it to the taiga, where anything seemed possible! But he would need a skeleton bone first. And that would mean battling one of the rattling monsters.
Dusk would fall quickly here in the north—Seth had warned Will about that. So he quickly prepped the shelter for nightfall. Bagley won’t mind if I camp out here, he decided. And when Bagley returned in the morning, he’d say that everything was all right in Little Oak—Will was sure of it.
He lit the furnace, which cast a rosy glow on the walls of the cave. Then he slid the heavy wooden door to the cave closed to keep curious mobs outside.
Next, he set to work making that Jack o’ Lantern, cutting off the top and scooping out the slimy seeds and pulp.
It took half an hour before the pumpkin was hollow. As he held it up to the light, he realized something. The pumpkin was big enough to fit on his head! If he wore it like a helmet, he could actually look at an Enderman without being attacked. That would be something!
He gently lowered the pumpkin over his head, and was relieved when it actually fit. He could see through the eyeholes and breath through the jagged mouth of the Jack o’ Lantern.
Night had fallen. It’s time! he thought eagerly. Time to battle a few skeletons for bones—and maybe fight an Enderman, too!
As he slid open the heavy door, a chilly blast of night air took his breath away. He couldn’t exactly see the world around him—not unless he turned his whole pumpkin-clad head, which was awkward. So instead of going in search of skeletons and Endermen, he leaned against the outer wall of the cave and waited.
Zombies moaned in the distance, but Will ignored them—he had bigger plans. He watched, waited … and waited some more.
Sure, thought Will. The one time I’m ready for an Enderman, they’re nowhere to be found!
Then he heard the thwang of a bow.
Something struck his pumpkin head—so hard that it sent him reeling backward.
He hadn’t found the skeletons. But they found me, he thought, sinking to his knees.
CHAPTER 4
Will scrambled backward toward the door of the shelter. It took all his strength to heave it open and crawl inside. Then he reached up and tugged at the pumpkin on his head. When it finally came loose, he examined it—and nearly dropped it in horror.
The skeleton’s arrow had hit the pumpkin just millimeters above one eyehole. Will patted his forehead, feeling for blood. His skin was clammy with sweat, but he couldn’t feel an open wound.
As he blew out a breath of relief, he inspected the inside of the pumpkin. Only the very tip of the arrow had pushed through the pumpkin shell. If it had gone any further, he might have been wearing that pumpkin helmet permanently.
Will paced the floor, trying to make a plan. The skeletons were still out there somewhere. And if he wanted to tame a wolf, he needed a bone—from one of those skeletons.
So he took a deep breath of courage and reached for his bow and arrow. Then he stepped back outside.
The first arrow whizzed past just inches in front of his face. But now that he wasn’t wearing a pumpkin, Will dodged it easily. He ducked behind a boulder and released his own arrow. It hit bone—he could tell by the way the skeleton jumped backward.
Now’s my chance, thought Will. He raced toward the skeleton, zigzagging left and right to avoid getting hit. He launched another arrow, and then another. Thwang! Thwack!
The arrows hit their mark. But he’d have to get closer to finish the job.
He slid his sword from its sheath, sprinted toward the mob, and struck with all his strength.
With a rattle and a sigh, the skeleton toppled. Bones tinkled like icicles onto the ground—not just one bone, but two.
Yes!
As he stooped to collect his prize, Will heard a chorus of grunts and groans. That could mean only one thing: zombies.
Sure enough, the mob of green monsters was milling around in front of his cave. As he stood up, they staggered toward him, arms outstretched.
“You want a piece of me, slowpokes?” cried Will. After defeating the skeletons, he felt bold and ready for battle. Maybe Bagley is afraid of zombies, but I’m not. He raised his bow and arrow and dropped the first zombie in three seconds flat
.
As the other groaning mobs approached, he reloaded—and took out two more. When he was fresh out of arrows, he grabbed his sword and sprinted forward.
Then he saw it out of the corner of his eye—four more zombies staggering out of the darkness! He slid to a stop in the snow, breathing hard. Now what? Should he fight them off or run for cover?
His body still ached from his tumble down the hill, and he couldn’t catch his breath. But zombies are easy, he reminded himself. Right?
He decided to fight.
With a renewed burst of energy, he scrambled onto a rock and waited. When a dead-eyed zombie was just a couple of feet away, he leaped toward it, swinging his sword. He struck once, twice—until the zombie grunted and toppled to the snow.
The next two were tougher. Will’s limbs felt heavy and cold. He had to strike several times to take down the snarling mobs. And there was still one more!
He used his last ounce of energy to lunge at the creature. But his sword barely grazed its dead green skin, and the zombie kept coming. As Will struggled to attack again, he felt like a zombie—slow and awkward.
Finally, he reduced the last zombie to a pile of steaming flesh. Then Will dropped to the ground, too—weak and tired.
Get to the shelter, he reminded himself. Before the next mob shows up.
But as he pushed himself up, a low growl stopped him. He turned slowly, his chest tight with fear, and came face to face with …
a wolf. A very hungry wolf.
CHAPTER 5
The wolf wanted that rotten meat, and she seemed to think Will did, too. As he took a slow step backward, the wolf stepped forward, baring her teeth. She won’t hurt me, Will told himself. But he couldn’t be sure. He tightened his grip on his sword.
As the wolf lunged, Will pulled his arm back, ready to strike. But something stopped him. There was hunger in that wolf’s eyes, but there was something else, too—something familiar.