“Only a TRUE wizard can pass through the Labyrinth unharmed.” He glanced at Planter. “What do you think that means?”
“You’re the wizard, you tell us.” Planter scowled.
Watcher moved a little closer to the entrance, but then stopped and shivered as a strange, chilly sensation crept up his legs, causing little square goosebumps to form on his arms and neck. He stepped a little closer. The opening to the Labyrinth seemed to yawn wider, as if it were trying to devour him, and the chilly feeling spread from his legs to his chest. It was like a thousand little icy spiders were crawling across his skin, pricking him with their frozen, pointed legs.
“I can feel the Labyrinth,” Blaster said, his face growing pale with fear. “It wants us to enter, as if it’s gonna eat us.” He glanced at Watcher. “I don’t think I like your little wizard tunnel so much.”
“I’m not sure if this is such a great idea either.” Watcher’s voice was weak and filled with fear.
He turned to his companions. They all had similar expressions on their faces: fear and trepidation.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Planter said, her voice cracking with fright.
A chill spread through the air, making the hairs on the back of Watcher’s neck stand up.
“So … we meet the boy-wizard again.” A screechy voice suddenly filled the air.
Watcher instantly knew who it was: Krael, the king of the withers. He turned with Needle held before him, ready to deflect any flaming skulls, but, with the villagers so tightly packed between the mounds of gravel on either side, a single shot might destroy them all.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting with you again.” Krael smiled a malicious smile. “That little trick you played in the spiders’ lair, shooting an arrow at me with the Bow of Destruction, that wasn’t very nice. It’s just unfortunate you’re a wizard. I would have enjoyed watching the Bow destroy you, as it does all non-wizards.”
“I hope that arrow hurt when it hit you,” Watcher tried to shout, but his voice was still weak with fear.
“You’re a fool,” the left skull said in a harsh tone. “Those arrows have a limited range. We just teleported far away, and it eventually just fell to the ground.”
“That’s right,” the right skull added, her voice softer and smoother. “We’ve been around for a long time, and know much more than you about the artifacts left behind after the Great War. For example, I bet you didn’t even know that the famous wizard Dalgaroth made that sword of yours.” The skull sneered.
“Of course he didn’t know,” Left said. “The boy is just a fool pretending to be a wizard.”
“Stop your prattling,” Center commanded.
“We aren’t afraid of you, Krael,” Watcher said, his voice regaining its strength as he stepped away from the Labyrinth entrance and moved closer to the king of the withers.
Planter stood next to him, her red shield with the three wither skulls on it in her left hand, ready to deflect any of the wither’s flaming skulls, just as she had done in the spiders’ lair.
The wither glared at the shield, then smiled. “You think I came alone and that shield will offer any protection? You’re all fools.” Krael laughed. “Zombies!”
The Broken Eight—though only six were still alive, with just five direwolves at their sides—emerged from behind the mounds of gravel around the group. The zombies snarled at Watcher while the wolves growled, baring their teeth.
Waves of fear crashed down upon Watcher. He remembered what only three of the Eight and three direwolves did to their party, but now there were six of the ancient zombie warriors and the rest of their animals.
I don’t know if my wizard powers are strong enough to protect everyone from these monsters, Watcher thought, dread filling his soul. What do I do?
The wither king floated higher into the air as the zombies and direwolves filled in the gaps, eliminating any thought of escape.
“Watcher … what’s the plan?” Blaster whispered.
The wolves took a step closer, their fur bristling as their eyes glowed bright red with fury.
“Watcher, what should we do?” Blaster’s voice was louder this time, sounding scared. “We could really use some of that wizarding power right now.”
But Watcher couldn’t respond. The zombies and wolves had him terrified beyond thought.
“Ya-Sik, it is time for your fellow zombies and wolves to feed.” All three skulls smiled. “Attack!”
Someone grabbed the back of Watcher’s armor and yanked him away from the charging zombies, his heels dragging on the ground. Arrows zipped past his head as the villagers fired upon the onrushing wolves. Yelps of pain came from the animals, but they did not slow.
“Hurry, everyone! Into the tunnel!” Cutter shouted.
Watcher pulled the hand from the back of his armor and stood. Shoving his sword back into his inventory, Watcher drew the Flail of Regrets and swung it over his head just as a wolf dived at him, its powerful jaws open wide and its sharp teeth aiming for his throat. Suddenly, Watcher was alive with magical power, the spiked ball at the end of the Flail giving off a bright flash as he swung it into the animal, knocking it across the narrow pass. The wolf flashed red, then tried to stand, but Watcher was already attacking again, bringing the weapon down upon the creature once more. It yelped in pain, then turned and fled.
“Watcher, get in here!” It was Planter’s voice … she was scared.
Watcher swung the Flail at another direwolf, striking it in the shoulder, then turned and sprinted toward the dark opening. The chilling fingers of dread emanating from the Labyrinth spread across his body again, but he didn’t care; getting away from the wolves and zombies was much more important right now.
He dashed across the stony ground and dove into the entrance of the Labyrinth. All the while, archers fired from the opening, shooting at the zombies and wolves. The furry creatures were too fast to hit, dodging the arrows easily. Some of the pointed shafts hit the zombies, but they just pinged harmlessly off their enchanted armor.
“Enjoy your stay in the Labyrinth, fool,” Krael bellowed from above.
Just then, the sound of stone grinding against stone filled the passage.
“Look, the entrance is getting smaller!” someone shouted.
Huge blocks of bedrock slowly moved across the opening, one set rising from the ground while another descended from above. The entrance grew narrower and narrower as if the rocky mouth closed upon its prey, until, finally, the entrance disappeared. A thick, oppressive darkness, making them all feel as if they’d lost their eyes, wrapped around the group like a gloomy, impenetrable fog.
Chilling icicles of fear stabbed at Watcher as the darkness seemed to close in around him. He felt completely alone and isolated. Glancing down at his hands, he noticed the iridescent glow of magic that normally pulsed across his arms was now gone. In fact, the Flail of Regrets, still in his hand, was dark as well, its energetic purple radiance now missing. Somehow, the Labyrinth had extinguished all magic, making Watcher feel small and insignificant.
Someone pulled out a torch and held it high over their head; it was Blaster.
“This is nice in here.” The boy ran his hands across the rough-hewn stone walls, listening to the sound of water dripping somewhere up ahead. “It could use a little decorating, but so far … I really like it.”
He smiled, likely trying to lighten everyone’s spirits, but it did nothing. Watcher knew everyone in the company felt a chilling sense of dread seeping into their souls. There was something very wrong about these passages, but they had no choice; they were trapped, and now must test their courage against the Labyrinth if they wished to live.
“So what now, wizard?” Blaster asked, the torch in his hand sputtering and sizzling as water dripped from the ceiling and onto the flame.
“I guess we follow the passage.” Watcher’s voice was timid and uncertain.
“You guess? Is that the best you’ve got?” Cutter demanded. “You wer
e the one who said this way would be easy. And now we’re down here in these tunnels, and you guess?”
“Don’t be so disrespectful. Watcher will figure a way out of these passages.” Fencer tried to get to the boy’s side, but with so many villagers choking the passage, it was nearly impossible to move.
“Listen, little girl.” Cutter’s frustrated voice grew louder, echoing off the tunnel walls. “I was happy to look for a witch and battle the spider warlord and her army to save your life. But I’m not gonna play this game you’re playing with Watcher. We’re in a difficult situation here, and we need to figure out what to do, and you constantly complimenting Watcher isn’t gonna help.”
Fencer took a stunned step back, bumping against the wall. She glanced at Watcher, but the wizard said nothing.
“I think it best we see where this passage leads,” Mapper said. “Perhaps we should have someone with a torch at the front of the line, one in the middle, and one at the end.”
“Now we’re talking.” Cutter patted Mapper on the back, almost knocking the old villager over. “That’s what we need … a plan.”
Watcher pulled out a torch and worked his way to the front of the group. “I’ll lead. After all, it was my idea to come in here; I should be the first to face whatever danger is waiting for us.”
No one objected; it made Watcher a little sad. With a sigh, he started walking.
The passage went arrow-straight through the fabric of Minecraft. After traveling maybe twenty blocks, they came to an intersection with tunnels extending out in all four directions. Watcher placed his torch on the wall, marking one of the passages as “explored,” but the torch wouldn’t stay. It just popped off the wall and landed in his hand again.
“Try placing some dirt on the ground,” Mapper suggested.
Watcher tried, but the same thing happened; the block of dirt bounced off the tunnel floor and right back into his inventory.
“So much for marking which passage we’ve explored and which we haven’t,” Blaster said, rubbing his chin as he thought. “Maybe I could mark the tunnels with a little TNT. I bet we’d notice a crater if we passed it.”
Shaking his head, Watcher glanced at his friend. “We can’t do that. The mountain over our heads has a lot of gravel in it. TNT could cause a cave-in, which I’m thinking would be bad.”
“Let’s just keep moving,” Planter said. “We can’t be any more lost than we are right now.”
There was a stinging tone to her comment, and Watcher knew it was meant for him. He glanced at her, but Planter instantly turned away, choosing to stare at the wall rather than look into his eyes.
With a sigh, he held his torch up high and continued through the tunnel. They came across more intersections as they walked, the other passages looking identical to every other one. Their path remained arrow-straight, the corridor never deviating by a single block. Maybe it will go on forever, Watcher thought, but after what felt like hours in the seemingly endless tunnel, the passage finally ended in a large circular room built of obsidian and quartz.
The room felt older than time, as if it had been here since the creation of Minecraft. The air was dank and stale, with dust coating Watcher’s tongue with every breath. The chamber itself was at least twenty blocks across, with a complicated pattern of quartz embedded into the obsidian floors and ceiling eight blocks overhead. The walls boasted a zigzag line of quartz around the chamber, the white blocks making the dark surfaces seem less depressing. Bookcases could be found here and there, with numerous dusty tomes on the shelves; clearly, they hadn’t been touched for years, if not centuries.
A single block of netherrack, recessed in the floor, burned with perpetual flames, casting a flickering glow throughout the black-and-white room. Iron bars surrounded the fire, keeping the careless from getting burned. Multiple openings lined the perimeter of the chamber, each leading to dark tunnels like the one from which they had just emerged. Tables and chairs lined one side of the room, with wooden chests sitting nearby. On the other side of the chamber, maybe a dozen beds sat on the ground, their red blankets a bright crimson against the dark floor. But the most notable feature in the room was a shining wall of metal standing next to a large bookcase, its surface mirror-smooth.
“Well … this is better than the tunnel,” Blaster said, looking around. “But it still leaves us pretty much completely lost.”
Watcher hung his head down, feeling responsible for their predicament.
“Don’t worry; Watcher’ll figure it out.” Fencer moved to his side, brushing her arm up against his.
Someone giggled, but Watcher didn’t look up to see who; he didn’t care.
I led my friends into these tunnels thinking I’m some kind of great wizard, he thought. But now, down here, I’m just like everyone else. He looked at his arms; the magical power woven into his body was gone … maybe forever. Now, I’m nothing.
Watcher sighed as tears threatened to burst forth, but he refused to set them free. Choking back his emotions, he raised his head and glanced around the room. All of the villagers were staring at him, waiting for some great plan that would save them all from eventual starvation.
A hand rested on his arm. Glancing down, he found it was Fencer’s and stepped away, pulling from her grasp. Watcher turned toward Planter, hoping for something to ease the fear and sadness enveloping his soul, but all he saw was an angry scowl. He looked away.
“Maybe we should try another tunnel?” Mapper suggested. “They must lead somewhere.”
“That’s a great idea.” Cutter pounded his enchanted iron chest plate with his fist. It vibrated like a gong, the echoing sound ringing off the dark walls. “Let’s get moving.”
Cutter glanced at Watcher, waiting for him to take the lead, but after a few moments of waiting, the big warrior shook his head and chose a passage at random. He charged into the darkness with a torch held over his head, the rest of the NPCs following behind him.
Watcher sighed and got into line, sandwiched between Mapper and Blaster; Planter was somewhere up ahead, and Fencer somewhere behind.
“You need to snap out of it, Watcher.” Blaster nudged him in the back. “These villagers need you. We need your courage and creativity. We need your optimism and unwillingness to surrender, and all we’re getting from you is defeat.”
“Look at my arms.” Watcher held his arms out for Blaster to see. “My magic is gone.”
“Well, I have news for you,” Blaster whispered into his ear. “No one cares about your magic. It wasn’t your magic that helped defeat the spider warlord. It wasn’t some great spell that destroyed the skeleton warlord or Tu-Kar, the zombie warlord … it was you. Everyone here is counting on you, and if you just give up because your arms aren’t bright and shiny anymore, then the courage that barely holds our company together will snap. That’s when we’ll be doomed.”
“Blaster is right,” Mapper said from ahead of him. “It will start with people arguing with each other; that’s how societies always crumble, through internal dissent that cannot be quelled. In these cases, the disagreements will lead to people refusing to talk to one another until, eventually, violence breaks out. This has happened throughout history many times, and it will happen here if we do not have leadership everyone can trust … and that’s you.”
Watcher let the words sink in as he shuffled through the cold and damp passage, the sounds of the group’s footsteps bouncing off the stone walls and coming at him from all sides. It was as if he was surrounded and all the echoing voices were pointing fingers of blame at him.
“You don’t get it.” Watcher took a deep breath and fought for control of his emotions. “I need my magical powers to get us out of here; that’s the whole reason why we went into the Labyrinth.”
“No … I think the huge direwolves and ancient zombie warriors had something to do with that,” Mapper corrected.
“And don’t forget about the wither,” Blaster added.
Mapper nodded. “That’s right. Krael
was there as well. Did you plan on fighting all of them right there?”
“Well … um …”
“If we had held our ground, it’s likely many of us would be dead.” Mapper’s voice was growing angry. “We had no choice; the Labyrinth was the only way to keep everyone safe.”
“But now look where we are,” Watcher moaned.
“That’s right, look where we are.” Blaster put a hand on Watcher’s shoulder. “We’re in these terrible tunnels, and none of us have any idea how to get out. But fortunately, we have with us the most clever NPC ever to walk the Far Lands … and that’s you.”
“I don’t feel so clever.” Watcher lowered his gaze to the ground.
Both Blaster and Mapper sighed as an uneasy quietude came over the company.
“Look, there’s light ahead.” Cutter’s voice shattered the silence. “Come on, let’s run.”
The villagers sprinted through the rest of the passage, their spirits raising with each step. The tunnel pierced through the bowels of the mountain, heading, as near as Watcher could tell, due east, without ever turning or altering course.
As they ran, Watcher, too, started feeling optimistic. It felt like they were doing something right, that there was an escape at hand and literally light at the end of the tunnel … but his hopes began to crumble when he saw where the tunnel led.
The stone corridor deposited them back into another black-and-white circular room, the quartz zigzag pattern running around the circular wall just as before.
Their spirits plummeted.
“Wait a minute,” Blaster shouted. “How do we know if this is the same room we had already been in?”
Many of the villagers nodded their heads, seeing his point.
Blaster removed a block of TNT from his inventory and tossed it onto the ground, far from the flames of the central fire. The tiny red and white cube bobbed up and down in place, as if riding on some unseen ocean swells.
The Wither King Page 12