Blade of the Sea Book 2: A Children's Survival Unofficial Minecraft Book

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by Jesse Nethermind


  “Hmm.” She looked from him to the man’s two drawn swords. She took a spear from where it leaned against the wall in the corner, and then said. “I’m not letting anyone leave here.”

  “And yet, I don’t see how you can stop us,” Patrick said. “So there.”

  She bit her lip, seeming to consider her options, then charged the man. He turned his weapons on her, and soon they were battling, breaking everything in the room. Patrick dove behind a crafting table as the spear swung right where his head had been, then he darted out and into the hall. The two came crashing through the wall, nearly colliding with him, and then the short lady followed with a sword and shield drawn.

  “Now I’m really angry!” she said as she joined in the attack.

  This didn’t seem like such a good option after all, Patrick realized, and broke for the door. A cobblestone square hit the wall next to him and exploded, but then he was out. He was going to have to make it on his own, he realized. If he could survive even long enough to find a way out of here.

  He turned the corner when an explosion sent blocks and glass everywhere. Patrick fell to the ground, hands over his head. When he looked up, he saw the man with two swords standing over him, glancing back, nervously.

  “Quick, with me,” the man said. “You need me to get you out of here, and I’ll need you since those two backstabbers aren’t coming.”

  “Are they…?”

  “Dead?” He sheathed his swords and helped Patrick up. “No, I think not. But they’ll be punching blocks for a while before they can come after us. Sealed them up real good. Name’s Ebin the Flebin. This way.”

  Patrick spared one look back to make sure they weren’t being followed, then ran after Ebin the Flebin, wondering how a pirate with such a ridiculous name stood any real chance of rescuing him from this underwater city of pirates.

  Chapter 6: The Pineapple Under the Sea

  Ebin the Flebin paused at a rooftop and allowed Patrick to catch up with him, which was welcome since Patrick thought his lungs were about to explode from so much sprinting.

  “It’s like,” Patrick tried to speak as he gasped for breaths, “you can run…forever…without getting tired.”

  “Of course I can. Can’t you?”

  Patrick just glared at him as he wheezed for another breath.

  The pirate shrugged. “We had to get away from my friends back there. Or rather, those two who used to be my friends. They’d know my usual paths and hideouts, so we had to go on the fly, as it were.”

  “As what were what?”

  “It’s a saying. Don’t you know anything?”

  “Not a lot of pirate stuff,” Patrick said, wondering if the man would catch the lie in his voice. But the look Ebin gave him was more than doubt.

  “Don’t go trying that with me,” Ebin said. “I’ll leave you behind right here, right now.”

  Patrick thought about sticking with the fake idiotic persona he often took on, but saw in this man’s eyes he already knew.

  “When did you ID me?”

  Ebin scoffed. “You kidding? I used to crew for you. There was you, your first mate, some other jerk, and then me.”

  “I…I’m sorry.” Patrick stared at Ebin’s face, trying to remember. Not a single memory came. “Those were quite different days.”

  “Patrick, the scourge of the lands and seas, the warrior who defeated the witch of Old Keeper’s Keep and smuggled her treasure out past 100,000 creepers and zombies lined up to take your life. I know your legends.”

  “Myths, from what it sounds like.”

  Ebin fidgeted, looking back the way they’d come, in case they were followed. “That stuff never happened?”

  “Not in the way you likely heard it.”

  “Sure, we’re all better in story than real life. For example, all the stuff you’ve probably heard about me….”

  Silence.

  “You have heard of me, right?” Ebin’s eyes went wide. “Oh come on, you’ve never heard of Ebin the Flebin?”

  Patrick scrunched his face, as if in thought, and though he’d never heard of the guy, he shrugged and said, “Oh, I thought you said Ebin the Ribbon, and I was like ‘What, that guy doesn’t even wear a ribbon. Ebin the Flebin, of course I’ve heard of that guy, er, you.”

  “Well that’s a relief,” Ebin said, a smile taking over. “For a minute there, I thought I was gonna cry. Well, not actually, I don’t mean actually cry, more metaphorically or metaphysically or physical therapy-ly or something. You know what I mean.”

  “For a guy who’s in a hurry, you sure don’t seem to be in much of a hurry.”

  “You’re right!” Ebin stood and pointed to the small pineapple building that Patrick had noticed on the way into the city. “That’s our goal.”

  Without waiting or bothering to explain, Ebin was off, parkour jumping across buildings until he was nearly there.

  “How do we get past the pirates juggling axes?” Patrick said, looking down at the shining axes flying through the air. He had no interest in becoming sliced ham.

  “This little baby,” Ebin said, holding up an Ender Pearl.

  Patrick whistled softly. “Where’d you get that?”

  “Made ‘em. Here’s yours.”

  And with that, he tossed his at the pineapple and appeared there a moment later. Patrick had never liked the way teleporting by Ender Pearl made his stomach lurch, but he figured it was the best option for now. He aimed and let loose, only then seeing he’d thrown a bit short and would be dangerously close to a group of old pirates arguing over a hat—but by then it was too late, and he was regaining his balance right next to them… only he didn’t regain his balance. Instead, he fell backwards, knocking the hat out of both their hands.

  He quickly recovered and held the hat out for them, saying, “Sorry.”

  They had blades aimed at him in an instant.

  “Where’d you come from, squid?” the fatter one said.

  “I’m not a squid. Here, just take your hat.”

  “Who says it’s his?” the other one said, also quite fat, but she didn’t have the perfectly square shape of the first.

  “I only meant—”

  They didn’t wait for him to explain, but both attacked at once. He let out an embarrassing yelp and dove. One of the blades cut the hat’s feather in half, and Patrick didn’t wait to see what the other blade would cut. He was running, screaming for help from Ebin, who was gesturing for him to shush with a finger to his mouth.

  Too late for that. More pirates started poking their heads around corners, and by the time he reached the pineapple building, a small crowd was laughing and jeering as he narrowly dodged the two pirates, who took turns swiping at him with their swords.

  “Do something!” he said to Ebin, who at this point was rubbing his chin in thought.

  “Okay, okay! Just… get ready to dive.”

  “What?!”

  “Now!”

  Ebin pulled out a small TNT and tossed it. Everyone froze. Then, as the explosion burst forth, Patrick felt something pulling him backwards to the other side of the pineapple. Everything went dark.

  Chapter 7: Escape Plans

  Patrick shook his head, trying to get his bearings. His ears still rang, but the ringing was fading.

  “Hello?” he said, groping in the dark. He reached about and found something glowing green—a couple of ender pearls! He pocketed them, figuring they could come in handy later.

  “Quiet,” hissed the voice of Ebin, and then a torch burst into life, providing light to a small room, no bigger than six squares across and five high.

  “Where are we?” Patrick whispered.

  “Below the pineapple, in a secret hiding spot. But most don’t know that it’s also a tunnel.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Because I’ve been digging it myself.” Ebin beamed with pride, but his smile in the dim light came across more as scary.

  He went to the edge of the room and put the torch into
a hole that Patrick hadn’t noticed, and then a trick wall moved aside.

  “No way, that’s awesome!” Patrick said, forgetting to keep his voice quiet.

  “I heard something, over here!” a muffled voice said from above.

  Ebin held out a hand to signal not to move. When they hadn’t heard a noise for a few moments, he gave the signal to start walking. The way was actually entirely lit by torches, to Patrick’s relief. The last thing he wanted was to go through a massive tunnel where monsters randomly showed up.

  Finally, Ebin said, “Sorry about that, back there.”

  “About what?”

  “Telling you to hush like that. I just didn’t want them to know where we’d gone. You know, because of the whole death-if-you-desert thing. Not to be confused with death-by-dessert, which wouldn’t be so bad probably.”

  He paused at the confused look Patrick was giving him.

  “You know, where your punishment is you have to eat so many pies that you either pass out or…” He pulled a finger across his throat and crossed his eyes.

  “Wait, I saw a pirate gorging on a pie back there, was that—”

  “Yup, death-by-dessert. But we’re getting distracted. I meant because we’re deserting, you know leaving without permission. We could get in major trouble.”

  “Um, yes…” Patrick wasn’t sure whether he should say thank you now, or just keep walking. Ebin didn’t seem to mind the silence.

  When they reached a bend in the tunnel, Ebin checked first and then motioned them onward.

  “So, could you fill me in on the plan?” Patrick asked.

  “First, we get to the end of my tunnel. It doesn’t go all the way to land but I’ve spent time building up a bit of a passage to the top of the water, where we’ll meet someone.”

  “You’ve really thought this through.”

  “The pirate life wasn’t exactly for me.” He glanced at Patrick with a half-smile. “You get that.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Patrick continued in silence again, this time thinking back to the days when he had indeed been a pirate. The ship sailing through the choppy sea, sailor songs filling the night, and always a group of buddies you could count on to help you find the next treasure…that is, until they stab you in the back and take said treasure. He punched a nearby wall in frustration.

  “Whoa!” Ebin checked the wall, glad to see only a small crack. “Careful Mr. Ender-dragon slayer. You take out one block, the whole ocean may come crashing down on us.”

  “Sorry, just…Let’s not mention my past anymore.”

  “For now, deal.”

  They came to a dead end—a small room with various types of blocks in the ceiling.

  “See how awesome I am?” Ebin asked. “I even set this up in case someone found my tunnel and made it this far. They get here and either think it’s a dead end and turn back, or they break the wrong block above and swim with the fish.”

  “Break the wrong block?”

  “Yup. See, I set up a cobblestone to remind me which way is up. The rest are just decoys.”

  He punched the one cobblestone block, and then again. It was against the wall, with an alcove there for Ebin to stand and strike the block. But after the third hit, he shook his hand in pain.

  “You need help?” Patrick asked.

  “It’s been a while, that’s all.”

  “Let me.” Patrick stepped forward, pulled back, and released, shattering the block into small pieces.

  Ebin picked them up. “In case we need them later.” He turned to the narrow passageway going up and smiled. From his pack, he pulled out a small piece of ladder that he attached to the wall and started climbing.

  Patrick followed, but right away regretted ever coming along. They were in a long, narrow, and dark passage that only went straight up. If he fell, it was going to hurt. He was shaking so hard he almost couldn’t grab the ladder rungs, but he managed to continue on, carefully.

  “So when did you leave the pirate life behind?” Ebin asked after about three minutes of climbing.

  “How do you know so much about me?” Patrick asked. When Ebin didn’t respond, he said, “A couple years back. In large part, it was because of the Pirates of Brotherhood and Justice. The idea of all those ruffians and rapscallions working together made me sick, and that’s when I realized it was either put up or shut up, so I shut up and walked.”

  “That’s all there was to it?”

  “That’s all.” Patrick wasn’t about to mention the best friend he’d lost in the ordeal, or the many other ways he’d been led to depression before calling it quits. He sometimes wondered if that guy was still out there, sailing the seas in search of plunder.

  But right now all he could think about was getting out of this stupid, cramped, tunnel.

  “We almost there?” he asked.

  “As a matter of fact, yes.” Ebin paused dramatically, then said, “Take a deep breath.”

  “Wha—” Patrick tried to say, but too late.

  Ebin had already opened the door above and water was pouring in. Patrick held on to the ladder, pushing himself up to follow Ebin. When he was free of the passage, he saw they were still surrounded by ocean, but not far from the surface. Ebin pointed up, and so up they went.

  They emerged from the water and took huge breaths, gasping for air. Ebin motioned to a nearby small section of land. They swam over, climbed on and then sat there, chests heaving.

  “Okay, so this is the plan?” Patrick looked around, wondering what cool trick the man had in store. “What do we do?”

  “We wait.” Ebin pulled a second sword from his sash and tossed it to Patrick. “You know, just in case.”

  Patrick looked at him like he was crazy. Sure enough, Ebin just laid back, hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. Great, Patrick thought. I escaped only to be stranded on a small island with this madman. He glared at Ebin, then lowered himself down next to him and closed his eyes as well. He might as well get some rest since there was nothing else to do.

  Chapter 8: Bonecrusher

  Patrick had no idea how long they’d been waiting on that island, but he was certain too much time had passed—if the pirate federation was after him, he was losing his head start. The sun had long ago disappeared behind the distant hills, and the heat of the day had been replaced with a cold, salty breeze. He was hungry and thirsty, and he even started to think he heard the distant sound of singing.

  Wait, that was someone singing!

  He sat upright and saw that Ebin was standing beside him, sash flapping in the wind and hands on his hips.

  “This is part of the plan?” Patrick asked.

  “You bet it is.”

  “Great, so you know them? We’ll wave ‘em over and they’ll take us to our destination?”

  “What?” Ebin glanced at him briefly, then turned back to the ship and pulled out his sword. “Silly boy, we’re pirates. That means we take what we want.”

  “WAIT!” Patrick shouted. “I’m not a pirate.”

  Ebin only laughed, and then shouted over his shoulder, “You keep telling yourself that. But if you want to find that Blade of the Sea, you don’t really have a choice.”

  “Wait, how did you…?” Patrick tried remembering when or if he had told this pirate about the Blade of the Sea. He wasn’t even sure if going after it was the thing to do, yet everyone else seemed to think that it was.

  “So you’re in?” Ebin asked.

  “Like you said.” Patrick pulled his sword out. “Don’t see how I have a choice.”

  “Smart one, you are.”

  And with that, Ebin the Flebin jumped into the water and swam for the ship as it sailed at an angle past them. Patrick followed closely, and soon they were at the rear of the ship. The salty water had soaked through Patrick’s clothes, dragging him down. But Ebin had grabbed the edge of the ship and pulled Patrick up behind him. Soon, both of them were scaling the side of the ship. They reached the top, looked over its edge, and pa
used.

  “There’s the captain, right next to…”

  “What?” Patrick pulled himself up for a better view. He nearly let go and fell backward, but Ebin grabbed hold of him.

  The ship was covered in skeletons, with the captain at the wheel. The captain was a regular man, if you could say someone three times as large as anyone you’d ever seen before was regular. He wore a standard pirate captain’s hat, but over his clothes he had a shirt made of skeleton bones.

  “That can’t work, can it?” Patrick asked in a low whisper. “I mean, what, they aren’t attacking him because of the bone shirt?”

  “That or he has a magic item. Either way, dibs.”

  “What do you mean, ‘dibs’? You can’t just call it like that!”

  Ebin was about to counter when a twang sounded nearby and an arrow landed in the wood next to Patrick’s hand.

  “That’s the signal!” Ebin shouted, and leaped over the railing, sword at the ready.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me with this guy!” Patrick said, as he tumbled over the railing and then rolled aside as another arrow hit. He came down on one of the skeletons with his sword, then kicked another one over the side of the deck.

  Ebin was holding his own, too, dodging an arrow so that it landed in the next skeleton over, then bashing two of their skulls together before tying one to the rafters and swinging it back and forth like a wrecking ball, taking down skeletons left and right.

  “EBIN THE FLEBIN!” the captain bellowed, leaping onto a railing and riding it down to Ebin, narrowly dodging the wrecking-ball skeleton and then cutting it loose.

  “Captain Bonecrusher,” Ebin said with a nod.

  They stood mere feet apart, each weighing the other’s fighting worth. Ebin had Patrick, and on Captain Bonecrusher’s side only two skeletons remained standing.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Bonecrusher said. “If you think PB&J will let this go unpunished—”

  “That’s no longer my concern,” Ebin said with a fanciful wave toward Patrick. “You see, we’ve gone freelance. And we’re here for your ship.”

 

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