by Jerome ASF
“Eh, could be worse,” Bacca pronounced. “But I don’t think the Skeleton King is going to be very happy when he finds out about this. Do you mind being the one to tell him?”
“mmmmMaybe we could piece it back together,” Dug said hopefully.
“Yeah … if we had about a month to work on it,” Bacca quipped. “And we definitely don’t. The thing was so old, it just completely shattered. Face it, Dug. It’s gone.”
“mmmmThen what are we—” Dug began.
“We’re going to figure it out on our own,” Bacca said confidently. “That’s what we’re going to do. Sometimes part of being a crafter is improvisation. Things don’t always go as you plan. But when disaster strikes, you’re not allowed to give up. You have to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and find a way to keep going. You have to use the resources around you to figure out a new solution. Frankly, that might be the most important part of being a crafter.”
“mmmmOh,” said Dug. “OK. Sorry for being pessimistic.”
“That’s okay,” Bacca said. “It happens to everybody sometimes. Now we just need to put on our thinking caps and figure out how to solve this problem without the tablet. The training wheels are off, kid. This is the real test.”
“Baaaa.”
Bacca and Dug looked over to the bottom of the ramp. The sheep stopped one of its hooves, clearly getting impatient.
“Hang on,” Bacca said to it. “We’re trying our best over here.”
Dug walked over to the piles of crafting materials stacked along the edges of the room. He began rifling through them. Bacca joined him. You could make almost anything with the crafting materials here, Bacca thought, but the blocks themselves weren’t going to provide a hint in any particular direction or another.
Then Bacca noticed that Dug had stopped searching. The zombie rested his fist against his chin and appeared very deep in thought.
“Got something?” Bacca asked.
“mmmmMaybe,” Dug said. “It’s just an idea. I want to see if they have prismarine here.”
“They do,” Bacca said. “There’s a bunch over here by me. You’re not thinking of trying to rebuild the Tablet of Mystery or something?”
“mmmmNo,” Dug said. “Nothing like that. Now where was the prismarine again?”
Bacca pointed the way. Dug hurried over and found an abundance of it. There was prismarine, prismarine bricks, and dark prismarine. An enormous amount. Enough to craft something really, really large.
“mmmmOkay then … I think maybe I know what we have to build,” Dug said.
“What?” Bacca asked. “How did you figure it out?”
“mmmmWell … I … uh … ”
For the first time that he could recall, Dug seemed embarrassed to tell Bacca what he wanted to craft.
“It’s okay,” Bacca said. “You can tell me.”
Dug still chose not to answer directly.
“mmmmDo you ever feel like you might know what you want to craft … but you’re certain that it’ll either be awesome and everybody will love it … or else it’ll be totally wrong and people will make fun of you for trying something so stupid?”
“Sure,” Bacca said. “All the time. But if you don’t make a point to challenge yourself and try those projects that seem weird or scary—or that you know might not work—then you lose out on some of the most important breakthroughs that help you move to the next level as a crafter!”
Bacca was secretly pleased that Dug had told him this, because he knew this was the kind of thing the young zombie needed to think about in order to reach a new stage with his crafting. Bacca and LadyBacc had already showed Dug all they could teach him. From here on out, he was going to have to learn by trial and error. That would take courage, and courage wasn’t something that anybody could teach. It had to come from within Dug himself.
“mmmmOkay,” said Dug. “That makes me feel better … but I’m still nervous to tell you what it is.”
“How about this,” Bacca said. “Don’t tell me what it is. Just craft it. Then we’ll see if it works.”
“Baaaa.”
“We are working on it,” Bacca grumbled to the impatient sheep.
Feeling inspired by Bacca’s words, Dug began hauling blocks of prismarine over to the spot where a new pillar needed to be built.
As pleased as Bacca was to see Dug taking this initiative, he was also secretly relieved. Bacca had no guess yet about what the central column needed to be.
As Bacca watched, Dug began to carve two enormous legs. Bacca had had his own experience crafting very large statues. Once while solving a series of riddles, he crafted statues of three enormous villagers—so that an equally enormous skeleton could shoot arrows at them. That had been a fun one.
Bacca watched Dug’s statue grow before his eyes, and thought it looked very good. The only weak point was the color scheme. He was working with far too many greens and blues. It made it look like the subject was under water. As Dug got up to the arms and the torso, he switched to an even deeper shade of green using the dark prismarine. Now it looked as though the statue had stuck its arms down into some yucky green swamp, and they’d come out covered in muck.
Then, suddenly, Bacca realized what Dug was doing.
Like looking at an optical illusion for long enough, the answer suddenly clicked in Bacca’s brain.
The furry crafter smiled to himself. Now Dug’s approach made total sense. The only question remaining was: was it a self-portrait?
Dug was crafting a huge, thirty-foot zombie. He’d used different kinds of prismarine to get all the shades of decaying zombie flesh absolutely right. He’d used polished diorite and polished andesite to make the zombie’s grey shoes. Now he was using blocks of coal to make the zombie’s tiny, black eyes. As Dug put on the finishing touches, Bacca decided that it wasn’t supposed to be a portrait of the crafter. It was an entirely new zombie. Dug’s shoulders weren’t quite as wide as this zombie’s, and Dug’s neck was a little thinner.
After he finished topping off the statue’s head with a flat block of prismarine, Dug hopped back down to the floor and started gathering the shattered pieces of wood from the broken ramp. Crafting them together, Dug began to reconstruct the ramp section by section, using the top of the zombie head as one of the supports.
The sheep watched Dug work. Bacca, in turn, watched the sheep and made a ‘be patient’ motion with his paws. Finally, the ramp was finished. Dug strode across it several times, testing it. The finished product seemed to be strong and study. Pleased with his work, Dug climbed back down to the bottom of the ramp.
“mmmmThere you go, little guy,” Dug said to the sheep. “I hope this was what you wanted.”
There was a tense moment while she sheep hesitated. It turned its head to the left and then to the right, appearing to carefully inspect the work that the young crafter had done. Then, momentously, the sheep lifted a tiny hoof and placed it on the ramp. Then another. And another still.
Soon, the wooly beast was making its way carefully up the ramp. It crossed the statue of the villager, the zombie, and then the skeleton, before finally arriving at the jeweled door. The sheep then let out a satisfied, “Baaaa.”
A familiar rumbling sound began, and the jeweled door began to open by itself. Slowly and confidently, the sheep passed through. Whatever room might be found beyond the open doorway was not clear, but strange reflections shone out from it, like golden light reflecting off the surface of water.
“mmmmWow!” Dug said. “I was right! It worked.”
The young zombie began to head up the ramp, following the sheep.
“Wait a second,” said Bacca. “How did you know to do that, Dug? I’m really impressed.”
“mmmmI just had a weird idea and went with it,” Dug said.
“Tell me about this ‘weird idea,’” Bacca insisted.
“mmmmWell, I started thinking about how skeletons come from villagers,” Dug said. “So then I also started thinking about how zomb
ies come from villagers too. I mean, with zombies it’s much faster. A zombie can turn a villager into another zombie pretty much instantly, by biting it. With skeletons, it takes a whole lot longer. Skeletons spawn when there’s a bunch of bones just left somewhere. Eventually, those bones animate, grab a bow, and start shooting people—and boom, you’ve got a skeleton. But the idea I had was that both skeletons and zombies begin as villagers.”
“I see,” said Bacca.
“mmmmThen I started thinking about how you could start as a villager, then get bitten and become a zombie, but then maybe a crafter whacks you with a weapon and you fall back down and just start decomposing. And maybe when you decompose enough until you’re just bones, then you get to come back again … as a skeleton.”
Bacca was quiet. He had never thought about this before, but it felt as though the little zombie’s idea could be quite important. He was intrigued, to say the least.
“You may just be on to something, Dug,” Bacca said. “I know that skeletons have no memory of who they were in life. Is the same true for zombies?”
Dug nodded his head.
“mmmmYes. We don’t know who we were before we were reanimated or infected. It’s always a big mystery.”
“Just as I thought,” said Bacca. “And we’ve always assumed that skeletons had no memory of being villagers. So then maybe they had no memory … of being zombies.”
“mmmmI sure am learning a lot on this trip!” Dug said brightly.
“Yeah,” said Bacca, feeling a little astonished. “I am too.”
Together they followed the sheep’s path up the ramp and across the top of the cavernous room until they stood before the jeweled doorway. Bacca saw that beyond was a medium-sized room of andesite blocks. In the middle of the room was a pool of water. The water reflected natural light from above. This meant that the ceiling of the room might extend all the way to the top of the cliff. In the center of the watery pool was a very fancy ornamental table made of sandstone. Displayed on the table was what looked for all the Overworld like a long sword crafted out of bone. The sheep stood at the edge of the pool and smiled.
“mmmmOh my gosh!” Dug stammered. “Is that it? Have we found the Bonesword?”
Before Bacca could open his mouth to answer, the sound of a single pair of footsteps echoed somewhere on the andesite floor.
Tic-tac. Tic-tac. Tic-tac.
Then the footsteps stopped. Again there was silence. The sheep hadn’t moved.
With the speed of an expert gunfighter, Bacca’s diamond axe was out of his inventory and ready in his hand.
“Dug,” Bacca whispered. “I don’t think we’re alone.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Bacca crept into the room with Betty raised high. His eyes scanned for the source of the footsteps—or for any movement at all—but he saw nothing. Moving deeper inside revealed strange architecture. The walls were decorated with large skulls crafted out of blocks of polished diorite. The skulls’ mouths were open, and easily big enough for a person to fit inside. There was a door on the far wall, past the watery pool. However, it did not appear to be magical or locked. In fact—as he looked more closely—Bacca saw that it was slightly open. The walls of the room extended up hundreds of feet. The room had no ceiling, only metal grates at the roof to keep out the curious (and, Bacca supposed, birds).
There was one more striking feature to the room. Standing beside the slightly-open door were three skeletons perched on sandstone platforms. One was made from iron, another was made from gold, and the third seemed to have been crafted from actual bone. In each of their hands were swords crafted out of the very same materials.
Bacca carefully moved in a full circle around the room, scanning for any clues. For the moment, he ignored the bony sword in the center of the pond. It was still not obvious to him who or what had made the sound of footsteps. Bacca wanted to make sure he and Dug were completely safe before they turned their attention to the Bonesword.
Bacca heard Dug tentatively enter the room behind him.
“mmmmWhat if there’s somebody in here … who is invisible?” Dug nervously whispered. “There were invisible blocks two rooms ago. Maybe now there are invisible people.”
“Maybe,” said Bacca, still circling the room carefully. He kept a close eye on the giant skeleton heads, and well as the three sculptures. Betty glistened in the light shining down from the openings in the roof.
Dug looked back and forth between the sculptures and the Bonesword in the center of the pool.
“mmmmIs this some kind of trick … or trap?” Dug asked.
Bacca smiled to himself. He knew that it almost certainly was. At the very least, a sixth sense told him things in this room were not as they seemed. Bacca was brave and clever, and part of him didn’t mind this challenge. There was hardly any enemy he couldn’t defeat. However, Bacca also reminded himself that he had a young crafter to protect. If only for this reason, he decided he must be careful in the moments ahead and not act hastily.
Bacca crept to the edge of the pool. He stuck his paw in, testing the water. It was cool and clear. It did not seem to be magical.
“mmmmI have the feeling that we’re being watched,” said Dug. “Do you have the same feeling?”
Bacca turned away from the pool and gave Dug a look that said ‘Would you prefer to wait outside?’
“mmmmI’m just saying … ” Dug said timidly. “It feels like something is watching us. And not just the sheep.”
Bacca had the same feeling.
Rather than wading into the pool and grabbing the sword, Bacca walked to the slightly-open door on the far side of the room. It appeared to be a completely normal door. No decorations. Not magic. Nothing special. Bacca stuck his toe inside, and used his foot to push it the rest of the way open. There was a loud creeeeeeeak as the rusty hinges moved.
Beyond the door was a small but very pleasant room. It looked like living quarters. It had a fireplace, couches and chairs, a table, a bed, and a library filled with books. Bacca stepped inside and ran a hairy finger across the table. Not only was it free from dust, but it had been meticulously cleaned. Either somebody had lived here very recently, or somebody still lived here.
There was no other sign of life. Bacca thought again of Dug’s idea of an invisible inhabitant. Investigating further, he walked to the bookcase and pulled out the nearest book. He could read it, but only with great difficulty. This was because it was written entirely in Ancient Skeleton.
Now Bacca had the clues he was looking for. He walked confidently back to where Dug was waiting beside the pool. The zombie glanced anxiously back at forth between the three armed skeletons, and then between the giant skulls on the walls.
Bacca ignored the pool, the large skeleton heads, and even the sheep. Instead, he turned to face the three life-size skeleton statues—one of iron, one of gold, and one of bone.
“Let’s see … ” Bacca said, addressing all three at once. “If you’d known we were coming, you might have had time to paint yourself with gold or iron. But we heard you shuffling into place right when we walked in, so I’m guessing we surprised you. You probably barely had time to grab the Bonesword … ”
Bacca stepped forward and used Betty to prod the sword held by the skeleton made of bone. The reaction was instantaneous. The skeleton sprang to life and jumped backward off of his podium.
“Aha!” said Bacca. “I knew it.”
The skeleton crossed its arms and looked sternly at Bacca. It did not seem intimidated.
“You must be the Skeleton King’s brother,” Bacca said. “He said to tell you, ‘No hard feelings,’ by the way.”
“Who are you, and why have you come here?” asked the skeleton in a stern, bony voice.
“I’m Bacca, and this is my friend Dug,” Bacca answered. “The Bonesword has been stolen and the zombies are at war with the skeletons because of it. We heard it was hidden here in this fortress, so we came to get it. We need you to give it back to us so we c
an stop the war. We’re also in a bit of a bind, time-wise. There’s a ceasefire, but it’s going to run out soon, and then they’ll start fighting again. So if you could be quick about it … that’d be great.”
The skeleton kept his arms crossed.
“Tell me, have you actually seen the Bonesword before?” the skeleton asked skeptically.
“I’ll know it when I see it,” Bacca answered. “Sword made from half a femur. Engraved with important scenes from zombie history. Sharpened to a deadly point at one end. All of which describes the sword in your hand perfectly.”
The skeleton nodded. He took a few steps toward Bacca, and held out the weapon. Bacca leaned in close and examined the blade.
“Yes,” Bacca said. “That looks like what I just described.”
“A bat came to drop it through a hole in the roof,” explained the skeleton. “I reached up and grabbed it.”
“That was the doing of some witches,” Bacca explained. “They were part of the conspiracy to take the Bonesword. Don’t worry about it. They’re on my list. But anyhow, will you please give me the sword now?”
He didn’t know how powerful this skeleton was, but Bacca was ready for a fight if need be. At the same time, like any wise crafter, Bacca always avoided unnecessary conflict. He would give the skeleton a chance to hand it over peacefully.
Which, to Bacca’s amazement, was exactly what the skeleton did.
The skeleton brought the sword up to Bacca’s chest and suddenly let it fall. His hands still slick from the wool, Bacca barely caught it before it hit the floor. Bacca scowled at the skeleton. No need to be a jerk about it, he thought.
From behind them, Dug spoke up.
“mmmmI have a question, Mr. Skeleton.”
“Tibia,” the skeleton said. “My name is Tibia.”
“mmmmI have a question, Tibia,” Dug said. “Why do you have that other sword in the middle of that pond? It’s also made of bone. Is it a fake Bonesword? Some kind of trick, so that people come here and take the wrong one?”
The skeleton laughed.