Bones of Doom

by Mark Cheverton

  The other villagers took turns glancing into the room, then stepped back and debated the best strategy.

  The room was covered with colored blocks in every hue imaginable. Metal pressure plates sat on each square, covering the entire chamber. The walls of the room were made of dispensers, the pattern on the metallic cubes looking like a surprised face, the opening in the dispenser being the face’s mouth. Another iron door was embedded into the far wall; clearly that was their destination.

  “What do you think comes out of those dispensers?” Planter asked.

  “Who knows,” Cleric said. “Maybe arrows, or fireballs, or …”

  “Or poison,” Er-Lan added. “Zombie teachers say the wizards used dispensers to shoot poison at monster warlocks. The dispensers could shoot many lethal items.”

  Cleric nodded. “Er-Lan is right. We don’t know what they do, but you can be sure it’s something dangerous. This room is a huge obstacle meant to keep the contents of the next room safe.”

  “It’s a maze,” Cleric said. “We must step on the correct blocks to cross and get to the next door. If the wrong block is stepped on, that will likely trigger the dispensers.”

  “But we have no idea what pattern is needed.” Watcher glanced into chamber. “That room is seven by seven in size. That’s forty-nine blocks in total. There are likely millions of combinations.”

  Mapper stepped to the entrance, then stepped back and stared at the sign over the door. The old villager began swaying to the left and right as he became lost in thought, humming softly. And then suddenly, he froze and became perfectly silent. He turned and faced Cleric, a smile painted across his square face. “I know the pattern.”

  “How?” Watcher asked.

  “The sign tells us … it’s the parts that make up a rainbow.”

  “What are you talking about?” Planter asked.

  Mapper sighed. “I remember teaching this to you when you were younger, all of you.” A stern look came across his wrinkled face. “Don’t you remember … the rainbow?”

  “So what?” Blaster asked. “We’ve all seen a rainbow.”

  “Exactly, and what are the colors in the rainbow?”

  “Of course … the rainbow!” Watcher moved to the doorway, then glanced over his shoulder. “What’s the first color?”

  Mapper sighed again and shook his head. “Didn’t you learn anything in school?”

  Watcher just shrugged.

  “ROY G BIV,” Cleric stated slowly, as if it were obvious.

  Mapper nodded and smiled.

  “Right.” Watcher nodded, then took a step forward, his foot on the red square.

  “What are you doing?!” Cleric exclaimed.

  Watcher glanced away from his father. “Someone must test out the theory.”

  All of the dispensers remained silent.

  He stepped to the orange square, then found a yellow one. Still nothing from the dispensers. He continued through the pattern, green, then blue, then indigo, then violet. But he was one block short from the door.

  “I didn’t make it.” Watcher carefully glanced over his shoulder. “I need one more color.”

  The others glanced at Mapper as he stared up at the sign again. “The end of the rainbow … what could that mean?”

  “My mom used to tell me about a chest of gold at the end of the rainbow,” Blaster said. “I bet it’s a gold block.” He stuck his head into the chamber. “Is there a gold block?”

  Watcher nodded, then extended his foot toward the shining block.

  “Wait!” Planter shouted, concerned.

  The young boy froze, then retreated back to the violet block.

  “The sign doesn’t say the end of the rainbow,” Planter said. “It says the end of rainbows. It’s like the death of a rainbow. What happens when a rainbow dies?”

  “It disappears,” Watcher shouted, “leaving only blue sky.”

  “No, that can’t be right,” Cleric said. “Let’s think this through.”

  “We don’t have time,” Watcher said. “If I’m wrong, you can try the gold block.”

  “Nooooo!” Cleric shouted

  But Watcher ignored his father. Moving his foot slowly, he pressed it on the sky-blue block. A click sounded from beneath the block. Watcher shut his eyes and waited for the barrage of arrows or fireballs. But then, another click filled the room, followed by a metallic screech. Opening his eyes, he found the door before him had swung open, revealing a long, dark passage.

  “It worked!” Watcher stepped into the passage as the cheers of the other villagers echoed off the chamber walls. But as soon as he took another step, the iron door slammed shut behind him, plunging him into complete darkness.

  A strange noise seemed to envelop him from all sides, even over his head. He heard the moans of zombies, the clicking of spiders, the rattling of skeleton bones, and the dry chuckles of endermen. The voices of monsters wrapped around him like a poisonous fog, moving closer and closer. But there were also sounds he’d never heard mixed in with the other terrifying voices. A strange, high-pitched squawking punctuated the voices of the angry mob.

  In the darkness, Watcher’s famous imagination created armies of monsters closing clustered about him, their claws, teeth and fists getting closer and closer. He couldn’t tell if he was inventing the sounds he’d heard or if there really was an army of monsters surrounding him. His heart pounded in his chest and he took short, gasping breaths. Sweat trickled down his face, some of the salty cubes flowing into his eyes, stinging. Every nerve in his body felt as if it was aflame as waves of fear crashed down upon him. His mind was overwhelmed, making rational thought impossible. All he could do was stand there, close his eyes, and hope the end would come swiftly.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Faster, we must move faster,” General Rusak growled. “Run, skeletons … RUN! We have a wizard to destroy.”

  The monsters cheered as they charged through the terrain. The skeleton horde was heading east, hoping to find the stony trail south of the village, then follow it to the soon-to-be-destroyed community. The general dug his heels into the skeleton horse on which he rode and looked around at his other commanders, who were also mounted.

  Suddenly, one of the scouts galloped back to the bony army, waving his hands over his head. Rusak reined in his mount and waited for the scout.

  “What is it?” the general asked.

  “Tracks … lots of them,” the skeleton reported, out of breath. “It looks as if the NPCs have left the village and are heading to the south-west.”

  “Toward the desert?” Rusak didn’t expect an answer.

  He pulled out the map given to the skeletons by the wither king, Krael. There was a marking in the desert to the south-west; it was a location of some ancient relic.

  “They must be after the magical weapon in the desert.” Rusak pondered his options, then motioned for the army to stop. “Commanders, come here with your skeleton horses.”

  The other leaders galloped to him.

  “Our enemy is searching for the enchanted weapons left behind after the Great War.” He glared at all his subordinates, making sure they all understood the gravity of the situation. “Only a wizard would know where to look. The skeleton warlord was right. The boy-wizard is a grave threat and must be destroyed. We must catch him and destroy him, then take every ancient weapon we can find.” He dismounted and handed his reigns to one of the skeleton warriors standing nearby, then glared at the dozen commanders that stared down at him. “Each of you dismount.”

  The commanders did as instructed.

  “Give your mount to another skeleton.” General Rusak watched as his soldiers mounted the bony animals. “Warriors, I want you to ride to the NPC village and burn it to the ground.” He glared at the monsters. “Leave nothing standing, do you understand?”

  “But General, the NPCs are already gone,” Captain Ratlan said. “What good will that do.”

  “It will serve as a punishment and a warning to those who help
the wizards. The retribution by monsters for helping the enemy will be swift and brutal.” General Rusak smiled an eerie, toothy smile, then turned back to the now-mounted soldiers. “After you have destroyed the village, then search the Wizard’s Tower. There may still be weapons for us to use against the NPC criminals, and we must have more weapons. When you have finished, return to the south west and join us in the desert.” He glared at his soldiers, making sure his orders were understood. “The only reason the NPCs would be looking for the creations of the ancient wizards is because they are preparing for war. We must be ready as well.”

  The skeleton nodded.

  “Now go.” Rusak drew an enchanted broadsword and pointed it toward the north. “Destroy that village and erase it from the face of the Far Lands.”

  The small squad of skeletons cheered, then kicked their mounts and rode off to the north, the hoofbeats like thunder, leaving the main force watching them ride away.

  “Now, we must move fast.” The general reached into his inventory and pulled out a glass bottle, a pink liquid sloshing back and forth within. “All of you have potions of swiftness. It’s time to drink them.” He uncorked the cap and drained the bottle, then threw it aside, the rest of the monsters doing the same. “Now, we run. And soon, we’ll fight for our skeleton warlord and for the safety of the skeleton kingdom. The Great War is again brewing on the horizon, but this time, the villagers will be surprised by the outcome. The monsters of the Far Land will be ready and will not be victims to the tyranny of the NPCs.” He held his sword high over his head. “Now, my friends … RUN!”

  The skeleton army became a white wave of bones and bows as they flowed through the forest at incredible speeds, every last monster thirsting for battle.

  CHAPTER 10

  The squawking sounds and fluttering noises surrounded Watcher as if he were in the middle of some kind of strange twittering maelstrom. Things shot past his face and moved around his body. He couldn’t see any of them, but Watcher was able to feel the breeze caused by these things, or creatures, or … whatever they were as they shot past, just out of reach.

  The fear that had thundered through his mind slowly dissipated as the tornado of squawking and growling things did no harm; they just moved near his body without attacking. Slowly, he reached into his inventory and grabbed the hilt of his sword, Needle. Instantly, the squawking things grew loud with agitation, the high-pitched zombie and spider sounds increasing as well.

  But still, the creatures stayed their claws and held back their attack. Cautiously, Watcher drew Needle, just the smallest bit, from his inventory. As a portion of the blade emerged from his inventory, a faint purple glow spread outward from the enchanted weapon and splashed onto the floor. The mirror-like surface of the blade reflected his surroundings. He was standing on sandstone, a thick layer of dust obscuring the surface at spots. But as the glow from his sword pushed back on the darkness, Watcher could see tiny footprints in the dust, as if a hundred chickens had marched through recently.

  The growl from what sounded like a hundred zombies floated out of the darkness masking the far end of the chamber. He drew Needle further from his inventory, the purple light growing brighter. Pale columns emerged from the darkness, the pillars made from chiseled sandstone, the face of a creeper etched into each.

  Something flew past his face.

  Watcher ducked instinctively, then pulled his sword all the way out. The squawking intensified as the shimmering light from Needle reached further into the chamber. The near wall came into view. It was built from polished sandstone, its glassy surface reflecting the rays to other parts of the room. A small ledge stuck out from the wall, a line of redstone running along its length.

  A group of fluttering things blew past him, then settled on the ledge.

  “Parrots!” Watcher exclaimed. “They were parrots.”

  Colorful birds stood on the ledge, then walked back and forth, their dark eyes staring at him warily.

  “Parrots.” One of the birds mimicked in Watcher’s voice, then fluttered its wings and flew across the room, revealing a lever mounted near the redstone.

  Watcher stepped past the sandstone columns and flipped the switch. The redstone signal ran across the ledge, illuminating the parrots with a crimson glow from underneath, making them look a little threatening. Then the redstone reached its goal, lighting a series of redstone lanterns. The glowing cubes came to life all across the room, splashing a warm yellowish-orange glow on his surroundings.

  The room was filled with birds of every color imaginable. They flew from side to side, weaving around the many columns that lined both sides of the chamber, their squawks, which was mostly monster impersonations and copies of Watcher’s voice, filling the air.

  He smiled. These animals, with their fabulous colors, were a treat to watch.

  A pounding echoed behind him, causing the birds to fly quicker, clearly agitated. It sounded as if someone was trying to dig into the chamber; likely it was his friends, but it seemed as if they weren’t making any progress. He wouldn’t be surprised if this chamber was protected by some kind of enchantment.

  Turning away from the noise, Watcher scanned the room. It seemed as if the structure was designed with one side being the mirror image of the other. The left and right sides of the chamber were each ornately decorated with different kinds of sandstone and redstone lanterns, but everything was exactly the same from side to side.

  And then he noticed it … a small chest at the end of the chamber. Moving slowly through the maelstrom of colorful feathers flapping across the room, Watcher approached the chest. The edges of the wooden box glowed like Needle, the magical enchantments either on or within the chest leaking power into the outside world.

  The banging on the doorway grew louder, the noise like a giant gong being struck by a blacksmith’s hammer.

  Putting away his sword, Watcher reached down and carefully opened the chest. Instantly, a burst of bright purple light shot out of the chest. The ball of iridescent light bounced around the chamber once, then split into two pieces, then each divided again, creating four balls of magical power. The glowing orbs streaked about the chamber, then shot to the ceiling and hit the stone surface, disappearing as if extinguished.

  He was stunned at what just happened. Did I just release something that should have remained sealed up? he wondered.

  Images of terrible monsters with equally terrible weapons burst into his mind as his always-overactive imagination filled in the blanks. He imagined massive armies of monsters storming across the Far Lands, destroying everything they touched. Fire blazed in his mind, scorching the forests and jungles of Minecraft, scouring the land and leaving it bare. Starvation and disease followed in his premonition, causing a single tear to trickle down his cheek.

  “What have I done?”

  “What have I done?” “What have I done?” “What have I done?” The parrots repeated his words in their squawky, high-pitched voices.

  No, I will not give in to nightmares and daydreams. I’m here, in the now, and that’s what I’m going to focus on, Watcher told himself.

  Pushing aside the thoughts of what might happen, he knelt and reached into the chest. There was just a single item … a small stick. It was as long as one of Blaster’s knives, and slightly crooked, like a lightning bolt. One end was capped with gold, but the other end was split down the middle, as if the wand was in the process of dividing into two, but frozen in mid-process. The two ends were also capped in gold, the rest of the stick colored an inky black with small sparkling crystals, almost too small for the eye to see, embedded throughout its length.

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it?” “That’s it?” “That’s it?”

  “Oh, will you shut up!”

  “Shut up!” “Shut up!” “Shut up!” “Shut up!”

  Watcher scowled at the birds, but his anger quickly evaporated as one of the parrots, a brightly colored red and yellow one, landed on his shoulder. The creatur
e nuzzled his head against Watcher’s neck, the bird’s feathers tickling his skin. He laughed ever so softly, but enough to calm all the parrots.

  Glancing around the chamber, he searched for additional chests, but saw none. There were no visible clues suggesting the presence of any hidden artifacts or weapons; the wand seemed the only thing in the chamber.

  What does this thing do? Watcher wondered.

  He pulled out a wooden shovel from his inventory and tossed it to the ground. He then aimed the wand at it … nothing happened.

  “Maybe I need to flick it?”

  Watcher waved the wand around over his head. He could feel a tingling sensation in his hand, as if tiny needles were poking into his skin. With a flick of his wrist, he tried to throw the sensation at the shovel. Another one of the glowing balls of light, like those that escaped from the chest, shot out of the wand and enveloped the shovel. At the same time, a stabbing pain shot through his body, then quickly faded. The light grew so bright he had to look away, the parrots squawking in complaint. When the glow subsided, Watcher found two shovels where only the one had been.

  “Great, a way to make lots of extra wooden shovels.” He said sarcastically.

  “Great.” “Great.” “Great.”

  Watcher rolled his eyes.

  The pounding on the door now grew frantic.

  Watcher moved to the entrance and pressed the stone button, allowing it to swing open. Instantly, the redstone lanterns extinguished, plunging the chamber into darkness again. Cutter stood there with an iron pick axe in his hands, ready for another swing, but held it back.

  “Are you okay?” The big NPC put away the pick and drew his diamond sword.

  “Shut up.” “Shut up.” “Shut up.”

  “What did you say?” Cutter scowled at the boy.

  “No, no, that wasn’t me.” Watcher pointed over his shoulder. “It was them.”

  “Them?” Cutter asked.

  “Them.” “Them.” “Them.” The parrot’s voices deep and booming like Cutter.