“Watcher, are you all right?” Cutter helped the boy to his feet.
“I thought …” Watcher took a breath. “I thought if I didn’t get that thing off me … I was going to die.” He took another huge breath, then finally relaxed a bit.
“What happened?” Mapper picked up the sparkling armor off the ground and handed it back to the young boy.
Watcher looked at it like it was a poisonous monster. “I think it uses the HP of the wearer to give it power. The images started to fade away, like the armor was running out of energy to keep working, then it felt as if the entire coat of chain mail was stabbing into my skin and sucking out my health.”
“That’s terrible,” Planter said.
“There are hints that many of the magical creations from the wizards and warlocks came at a great price,” Mapper said. “I think we now understand what they meant.”
“For a moment there, I thought it was going to pull out my soul.” Watcher shook for a moment. “There was a great emptiness in that armor, like it wanted more power, and there would never be enough to satisfy it. I don’t know what will happen if I use it again. I’m afraid I’ll get lost in that dark emptiness and never escape.”
“Maybe it’s too dangerous to use,” Planter said.
“Well … if we don’t—” Cutter started to say but was interrupted.
“I’m okay now.” Watcher stood up straight, not wanting to look weak in front of Planter. “I think we need to get moving. The wither king thinks we’re dead; we have the element of surprise on our side. While it’s still dark, let’s go sneak into the Capitol and rescue our friends.”
“I agree,” Cutter said. “Everyone follow me. We’ll steal some boats from the fishing village and get onto that island.”
He turned and stepped through the bushes, parting vines with his hand as Cutter headed for the shore, the rest of the party following close behind.
When they reached the docks, each climbed into a boat and shoved off. Watcher took in a huge breath, the salty, clean air driving some of the lingering pain from his head, then glanced at the moon. It was just starting to kiss the western horizon. Day was coming soon; they had to hurry. But as they rowed, Watcher thought about something his dad, Cleric, was fond of saying: “Wanting to do something, without forming a plan, is the same as making an empty wish.”
Is that what we’re doing, trying to free our friends and families without any real plan in place? Watcher shuddered as the thought bounced around in his head. It gave him a feeling of dread that seemed to chill his very soul. He felt they were missing something. Just sneaking around in the dark might not be good enough, but they had no choice. So instead of speaking out, Watcher continued to row, while a maelstrom of fear slowly built in his mind.
Silently, the companions stepped out of their boats and ran across the wooden dock, each staring up at the massive castle that loomed over the island. Their boots pounded against the wooden planks, the muffled thuds like thunder in the still night air. Watcher ran next to Er-Lan, the tiny zombie surprisingly quick on his feet. When they reached the end of the dock, they moved behind the closest building in the tiny village to catch their breath where no one could see them.
“Everything seems so empty.” Planter stood on her toes and peeked through a glass window. “I can see a few items lying on the ground. It’s like the people living here had to leave in a hurry.”
“The wither king invaded with many monsters,” Er-Lan said. “Likely the inhabitants were either driven off or destroyed.”
“You sound pretty casual about that,” Cutter said.
Er-Lan gave the big warrior a fearful glance.
“It’s not his fault, Cutter.” Reaching into his inventory, Watcher drew an arrow and notched it to his bowstring. “Er-Lan cannot be held responsible for the actions of all the other monsters. Besides, he did help us out back there with Tu-Kar.”
“Well … I guess.” Cutter glanced at the little zombie. “It’s just … I’m not used to being around zombies.”
“You mean, you aren’t used to being around zombies and not trying to kill them.” Blaster gave him a smile.
“Well … yeah, I guess that’s right.”
“Then that’s something we need to work on,” Planter added.
“Let’s get this done.” Blaster adjusted his black leather cap, then drew his two knives. “Follow me.”
Moving like a shadow, Blaster ran from one deserted home to the next, using the structures for cover whenever possible.
Watcher peered through the window of each building as he moved past. They were all masked in darkness, with no torches or redstone lanterns anywhere to offer illumination. Moving to the next building, he peeked in.
“I thought I saw something move.” Watcher gripped his bow tight, fear tingling along his nerves.
“What was it?” Cutter’s voice was quiet, less than a whisper.
“I don’t know … it’s too dark.” Watcher glanced at the west. The moon was sinking behind the horizon; they had to hurry.
“Watcher, you were able to smell the zombies before,” Mapper said softly. “Can you smell anything now?”
The young archer shook his head. “All I can smell is the salty air from the ocean.”
Just then, a moan floated to them on the breeze. It sounded as if it came from very far away, something they didn’t need to worry about … for the moment. But it still caused tiny square goosebumps to form on Watcher’s arms and neck.
“I see some steps at the end of this village.” Blaster turned and glanced at the others. “I say we make a break for it and get up those stairs. We can’t be caught down here after sunrise.”
“Okay,” Cutter said. “Lead on.”
They ran through the deserted village, moving from building to building as before.
The moaning grew louder.
Watcher glanced around, looking for the source, but with the moon almost down, and the sun not up yet, it was incredibly dark. He thought the sad moan was maybe coming from the castle high overhead. But then Watcher heard it from behind him. Stopping in the middle of the village, he turned and looked back at the dock. An inky blackness seemed to cover everything, erasing the details of the village gate and boats and ocean. Another moan, this one louder, then came to them from off to the left, then another from the right.
“Is the wind playing tricks on my old ears?” Mapper asked.
“I don’t … know.” Planter’s voice cracked with fear.
A sour, putrid smell drifted across the abandoned village. It was the odor of something rotting from neglect, like spoiled meat or curdled milk. It drove the salt air from Watcher’s nostrils and filled them with a stench he instantly recognized.
“Zombies.” The boy didn’t bother to whisper.
Now the moans grew louder, intermixed with angry growls and hungry snarls.
At the foot of the steps up ahead, shapes moved across the path, their arms outstretched. Sharp claws scratched across stone blocks as the creatures filled in the village.
Suddenly, a torch flared into life, then another and another, illuminating the stairs. Before them, at least a hundred zombies were piling down the steps, some of them falling off the stairway as their clumsy feet missed the next step. They growled and snarled as their dark, lifeless eyes stared straight at the invaders.
“Oh no,” Planter said.
“That’s a lot of zombies.” Blaster adjusted his black armor. “I think we need a better plan.”
“Many zombies … Er-Lan said many zombies.” The tiny monster shook with fear.
“We hear you, zombie … I mean Er-Lan.”
The monster stopped shaking for just an instant.
“Watcher, you have any ideas?” Mapper asked.
But the young archer was paralyzed with fear.
A large zombie, clad in iron armor and wielding an enchanted sword, stepped forward and pointed his blade at Watcher and his friends. He snarled, making a sound like that of an en
raged beast, then charged, yelling at the top of his voice. “ATTACK!”
The horde of fangs and claws surged forward.
Blaster instantly went into motion, darting between the buildings. Cutter moved to the front and waited for the tidal wave of hatred about to crash down upon them. Planter moved to Watcher’s side, Needle held at the ready. Mapper and Er-Lan stood at the rear, determined looks on their faces. The old man had splash potions in each hand and Er-Lan’s small, dull claws were extended, though they would likely have little effect.
Everyone was ready for battle except Watcher. The whole scene seemed to blur as time slowed, stretching the terror into a long, drawn-out moment that consumed his mind.
What do I do? Have I failed my family? Have I led my friends to their deaths? Thoughts of uncertainty circled his soul like vultures around a wounded beast. Self-confidence … clever ideas … courage … they were but distant memories. The Watcher that he knew was gone.
But then, a voice spoke, soft and lyrical. It was from the deepest recesses of his mind; something from long ago when he was very young. Chills ran down his spine when he realized the words were from when his mother had been so terribly sick. They were her last words, though at the time he’d been too young to understand them.
“Watcher, a great NPC is not defined by skill with a blade or accuracy with a bow. They are not the strongest or the fastest or the bravest. A great NPC is the person that’s willing to take a risk and step into the darkness, in hopes of making the world just a little better for everyone else.”
He shook almost imperceptibly as he fought back a tear.
“Mom …” Over the years, Watcher had forgotten what she looked like, but now her image was burning bright in his mind. “Step into the darkness …”
He knew what he had to do.
Time returned to normal as the growls and moans of the zombies filled the air. Planter was shouting something, but he couldn’t understand. Cutter was slashing at the lead zombie, the two warriors locked in deadly combat.
Dropping his bow, he removed his armor, then reached into his inventory and pulled out the Mantle of Command.
“Watcher … no.” Mapper’s voice sounded so far away.
He lowered the sparkling chain mail over his head, then closed his eyes and stepped into the darkness of his mind.
Instantly, pain engulfed his body as tiny little needles dug into his soul; the armor was energizing and drawing out his HP.
It doesn’t matter what happens to me as long as I can save my friends. Watcher was without fear.
He concentrated on the zombies. Instantly, he felt connected to every monster on the island. Before he lost his nerve, he sent the command that he hoped would save them all.
“Leave this island … now!” Watcher’s voice sounded weak, but he could hear the sounds of battle pause for just a moment.
Pain blasted through him again. He sank to his knees. Something wet splashed against his back, easing the agony just a bit, causing his connection to the zombies to slacken. Focusing his will, he reached out and could sense every zombie, projecting the magical power of the Mantle to them. The monsters appeared to glow with a soft purple radiance in the darkness of his mind, but one was slightly different. They had an ancient feel to them, as if they were from another time, but they were also brighter and filled with hope. They were all staring at him now, listening to his command.
But there was also another thing high up in the castle he could feel, a thing wrapped in a darkness deeper than even the void. It was a strong source of magic and hatred, not weak-minded like the zombies. The strength of that creature’s mind would not allow the magical armor to control it; that dark monster was immune to the Mantle of Command. Watcher pushed aside the shadowy thing and focused on the zombies.
“Leave this island … NOW!”
Some of the monsters around them stopped growling and grew silent. His entire body felt as if it were wrapped with fire as anguish spread through every nerve.
Watcher lifted his head and stared at the monsters. His eyes glowed with a purple radiance, casting his magical gaze across the horde like enchanted laser beams.
“LEAVE THIS ISLAND … NOW!”
A blast of magical energy burst from him, knocking some of the zombies to the ground.
The monsters before him stopped attacking, turned, and shuffled toward the wall that ringed the village. Using their sharp claws, they climbed the rocky barricade, then jumped off, landing in the water. Watcher could feel the zombies deep underground drop their weapons and leave their posts, climbing the long stairs that would lead the guards out of the mines and off the island.
A thought flashed through his mind. “Er-Lan … stay.”
His connection to the zombies faded. Watcher tensed, ready for the Mantle of Command to take the last of his HP and end his life. But the million-pound weight that pressed down upon his soul was lifted off his shoulders, relieving his pain at the very last moment. Then he collapsed, his life hanging on by a single thread.
A deluge of salt water crashed over his head, the chilling liquid instantly pulling the boy into consciousness.
“He’s coming around.”
Watcher reached up and wiped the water from his face, then slowly sat up.
“What happened?” The NPC looked around, confused.
“You sent all the zombies away.” Planter had a joyous smile on her face. “You saved us!”
“Good goin’, kid.” Cutter slapped him on the shoulder, almost knocking him over.
“Take it easy on him,” Blaster cautioned. “He just saved us all with some quick thinking.”
“Sorry.” The warrior glanced at his companions. “We need to get moving and find our friends.”
“I know where they are.” Watcher shook his head, throwing a spray of water on his friends, then slowly stood. “And I also know what’s nearby.”
Mapper moved to the boy’s side. “What do you mean by that, Watcher?”
“The wither king—I could feel him through the enchanted chain mail. Our friends are somewhere underground, but that monster is close.”
“All the more reason to get moving,” Cutter said.
“Where are we going?” Planter asked. “We have no idea where the mines are located. Our friends could be anywhere.”
“Well, I know for a fact we aren’t gonna find them out here, near the outer wall,” Cutter said. “Let’s get closer and we’ll figure it out.”
“I agree,” Watcher said. “But first, where’s Er-Lan?”
“Here … Er-Lan is here.”
The zombie stood away from the rest of the group, uncertain if he was still welcome after the confrontation with the monster horde.
Watcher motioned for him to come close. With his eyes to the ground, Er-Lan shuffled up and stood at the boy’s side.
“Er-Lan, I could sense you when I used that magical armor.”
The zombie nodded.
“You’re not like those other zombies. There is no hatred in your heart.”
The monster looked up at Watcher.
“You have been an outcast from your people, not because you aren’t strong or vicious, but because you’re a peace-maker. I could see, in your heart, that you want happiness, not conflict. You want to give and not take. The zombie people, I think, are not ready for a zombie as advanced as you … but one day, they will be. For now, you’re part of our family.”
The zombie smiled. “Really?”
“Of course.” Planter put an arm around the monster. “You’re one of us, now and forever.”
The zombie glanced at the other NPCs, then turned his gaze to Cutter. The big NPC returned the look, then sighed and nodded. Er-Lan’s smile grew even bigger.
“It’s time to move … now.” Watcher patted the zombie on the shoulder, then spun and headed for the stairs.
The young archer walked slowly at first, but as his head cleared he began to run. Sprinting up the steps, Watcher kept a cautious eye on the su
rroundings. The sky was blushing a deep crimson as the sun rose in the east, driving away the sparkling stars and the dark sky. The surroundings grew brighter, making it easier to spot any stray monsters who might have refused his command with the Mantle. Thankfully, they found none.
As he approached the top of the stairs, a weak and scratchy voice spoke a single word. “Help.”
At the top, Watcher found a villager in an iron cage. He looked bone thin, as if he hadn’t eaten in an eternity. Pulling out his pickaxe, he went to work on the iron bars. When they finally shattered, he quickly handed the man a piece of cooked pork.
“Are you all right?” Planter helped the man to his feet.
“Yes, yes, Sweeper is all right.” The villager had a crazed expression on his face. “Been there a long time, I have, but now I am free. The wither king will be furious … ha ha ha … yes, yes, furious.”
Watcher glanced at Planter. The old villager sounded a little crazy.
“Your name is Sweeper?” Watcher asked.
The villager nodded.
Watcher gave the man an apple. “Why were you in that cage?”
“Sweeper knows everything about the Capitol. The caretaker, I was. Kaza didn’t want my secrets to get out, but he still needed information every now and then … like the combination to the Great Vault.”
“The Great Vault?” Blaster asked.
The old man nodded. “Yes, yes, the Great Vault. That’s where Kaza’s gold is stored. When he has enough gold, the treasure will awaken the ancient wither army that existed in the days of the wizards. When that happens, the end of the Far Lands will be near.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Watcher said.
Cutter stepped forward. “How do we find the vault? Do we go through that huge castle up there?” The warrior pointed to the gigantic stone structure that loomed overhead.
“No, no, no … anyone going through will be attacked by monsters.”
“Not to worry, we got rid of all the zombies.” Watcher stood a little taller and smiled.
Zombies Attack! Page 18