Bones of Doom

by Mark Cheverton

  She fired the arrow into the dark abyss. The shaft caught fire when it left the bowstring, leaving a trail of sparkling embers as it streaked through the air. The arrow embedded itself into the far wall, the magical flames lighting the dark interior. Glancing at Watcher, she gave her brother a smile, then fired more shafts into the pit. In seconds, she had the dark hole fully lit with the flaming arrows. It revealed a series of tall columns of stone, each at a different level and spaced a few blocks apart.

  “Apparently, the enchantment only blocks light from outside the pit.” Mapper smiled and bowed to Winger. “Clever idea.”

  She smiled back proudly and returned the bow to her inventory with a flourish.

  “It’s a parkour course,” Watcher said. “I can do this.”

  Jumping into the hole, Watcher landed on the first column, then moved to the second and the third, making his way to the bottom. The sound of boots thudding on stone filled the course as the other villagers followed him.

  “I see a tunnel down there. It probably goes to the skeleton base.” The boy glanced over his shoulder. The other villagers were following cautiously. “Come on, we can do this.”

  Watcher continued jumping from block to block, keeping his attention focused on the next column, the rest of the NPC army following. He didn’t notice the pair of eyes, one pitch black, the other a hateful red, watching him from the darkness below.

  CHAPTER 31

  Watcher gazed nervously as the last of the villagers moved through the end of the parkour course and stood safely on the rocky floor. A few NPCs had fallen, but it had been near the end of the course and none had been seriously injured.

  “Let’s get moving,” Cutter said, his voice booming off the cold stone walls. “I want to find these skeletons and crush them. The crops at the village could use some bone meal.”

  Some of the other villagers laughed, but most stayed silent, fear painted on their square faces. Before them now stood a wide passage that plunged deeper into the flesh of the Far Lands. The tunnel was perfectly circular and curved gracefully to the right as it descended into the darkness. Cutter moved forward, his iron boots clicking on the stone as he walked.

  “How do you think they made this passage?” Winger asked, curious.

  Watcher glanced at her. She had the enchanted bow in her hand and was anxiously playing with the feathers on an arrow.

  “You can be certain skeletons didn’t make this.” Blaster moved to her side. “If they used TNT or creepers, the tunnel wouldn’t be so perfectly circular.”

  “They used magic,” Mapper said. “There were implements of construction and mining that were made by the great wizards. This must be the result of one of those tools.”

  “It’s spooky.” Blaster took out one of his curved knives and tapped the stone wall. The sound traveled down the passage, echoing off the walls and returning back in seconds. The dark-haired boy cast Watcher a concerned look. “You can bet the skeletons will hear us coming.”

  Watcher nodded.

  “Son, if you were going to protect this tunnel, what would you do?” Cleric laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  “Well …” Watcher put a hand to his square chin and quickly was lost in thought. “I’d build some hidden rooms on either side of the tunnel, with an open block through which I could fire my arrows.”

  Cleric nodded. “We should prepare.”

  “Agreed.” Watcher turned to his archers and gave a quick list of orders. With Blaster leading the archers on the right side of the tunnel and Watcher leading those on the left, the archers moved quietly along the walls. They stayed ahead of Cutter, who was placing torches in the center of the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Cutter asked, his loud voice breaking the silence like a hammer shattering a vase.

  Planter moved to the big warrior’s side and explained what was happening. He smiled, adjusted his iron armor, then motioned the other villagers to stand back, away from him.

  “I don’t mind being the bait, but everyone else should stand back.” Cutter tried to push Planter away, but she brushed off his attempt and pulled out her enchanted golden axe and shield.

  “I’m with you on this.” She glared at him, daring the big NPC to challenge her, but he wisely did not.

  Watcher glanced at his two friends and admired their courage for acting as the bait. But the thought of Planter being out there terrified him. He wanted to say something, but knew Planter would be offended; she would want to share the same risk as Cutter.

  But why Cutter? Watcher thought. They seem to be whispering together a lot, and laughing … what’s going on there? Pangs of jealousy surged through his soul as he watched their arms gently brush against each other. With a sigh, he realized there was nothing he could do other than focus on the task at hand, and that was keeping everyone alive.

  Watcher moved to the right side of the passage with his archers as Blaster and Winger led the other group to the left. Planter and Cutter walked down the center of the passage, their feet pounding the ground, making it clear they were there.

  The tunnel made a turn to the right as it continued to descend. Watcher spotted a section of the wall that was unusually dark. Pointing to the opposite side with an arrow, he gestured to Blaster. The boy put on his black leather cap and nodded.

  Watcher notched a fire arrow and aimed at the darkness on the opposite side, Winger doing the same but pointing her sparkling red arrow to the near side.

  “Now.” The brother and sister released.

  Their arrows instantly caught fire when they left the bows, the fiery shafts streaking through the air and into the shadows. Instead of bouncing off a stone wall, the arrows slipped into the darkness and illuminated a hidden room filled with skeletons.

  Before the skeletons could open fire, Watcher and Winger fired a pair of water arrows at the monsters. The blue shafts struck the back wall of the hidden chamber and created a water source. The liquid flowed across the skeletons’ small chamber, pushing them against the wall, making it difficult for the monsters to fire. Taking advantage of their confusion, Watcher and his archers fired into one of the chambers while Winger and the others attacked the opposite side. The sound of flint arrow heads chipping through bone resonated from the hidden rooms as they quickly destroyed the skeletons.

  Once the threat was eliminated, they continued, moving deeper into skeleton territory. Watcher spotted two more of the hidden traps, but this time, the hidden rooms were abandoned … and no skeletons in sight.

  “It seems the skeleton warlord gave up trying to set traps for us,” Cleric said.

  “You can be sure he knows we’re here now.” Cutter placed a torch on the ground and scanned the surroundings.

  “I’m going up ahead to look around.” Before anyone could respond, Blaster had disappeared into the shadows.

  They continued through the curving passage, heading deeper and deeper underground. A tense silence came over the army as their footsteps echoed off the walls. The silence allowed Watcher’s famous imagination to start working. He imagined the skeleton general waiting in the shadows; at times, the image was coupled with that of the general’s commander, the skeleton warlord. Watcher had no idea what that monster really looked like, and didn’t want to know.

  Fighting the monsters from a distance was one thing; he could launch arrows all day long at tiny little white spots. But when the monsters were up close, and he could see the unbridled hatred in their dark eyes, Watcher was petrified with fear. The ability to think seemed to leave him, as it did in that underwater structure and in the Swordsmith’s Workshop.

  What kind of leader am I if I can’t stand up to my fears? he asked himself.

  Glancing around, he saw expressions of determination and courage on the square faces of his companions. He put on the same mask, but Watcher knew it was a lie, his courage was a lie, his ability to command was a lie. He was just a scared kid.

  “You okay?”

  The voice startled him. “
What?”

  “I asked if you were okay,” Planter asked. “You were turning the same color as the skeletons.”

  “It’s just that …” He paused. How do I tell Planter that deep down, I’m a coward?

  “You know, you can tell me anything and I’d understand.” She put a hand on his arm … and it was fantastic. “We’ve been friends since … I guess, since we were toddlers, crawling around in the fields and getting yelled at by old Harvester. You remember?”

  Watcher smiled and nodded. “Remember when you pulled up the carrots and blamed it on the chickens?”

  “Yeah.” She laughed. Her smile lit up her entire face. “Then we left some eggs in the fields and she was convinced it was the chickens.”

  “And that time in the winter when Harvester chased us.”

  “She couldn’t keep up with us when we sprinted across the frozen lake, and she got stuck, waist deep in the snow,” Planter said, grinning.

  “My dad had to use some horses to help pull her out.”

  They both laughed as they moved through the huge passage. The memory pushed back his fear a little. But as the humorous images faded from his mind, Watcher grew serious.

  “It’s just that … I’m so afraid I’ll mess this up and get everyone hurt, or worse.” Watcher lowered his gaze to the tunnel floor. “I’m always so scared. I don’t want to let everyone down.” His voice became a whisper. “I don’t want to let you down.”

  “Oh Watcher, you couldn’t let me down. I have total faith in you that you’ll know what to do or …”

  “You see … that’s just it. There’s so much pressure for me to figure out what to do. And if I don’t have a good idea then—”

  “Would you just be quiet and let me finish!”

  Watcher grew silent.

  “What I was going to say is, I know you can come up with a great idea, but if you can’t … you’ll ask for help.” She paused to let that sink in, then lowered her voice. “Think of Blaster. He’s as brave as they come, but he’ll never ask for help. That’s true for a lot of people around us. But you’re different. Your genius comes from knowing when to use the strength of the people around you, and not trying to do everything yourself.” She stopped in the middle of the tunnel and grabbed his hand, pulling him to a halt. “It takes a brave person to admit they don’t have all the answers, and are willing to ask for help. That is your strength, and that’s what the skeletons will underestimate about you.”

  She continued walking, pushing him gently forward. Her touch was like fireworks to his soul.

  “Just be you, and let the rest of us be there to help.” Planter smiled. “I’m confident it will all turn out okay.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” a voice said from the darkness.

  Cutter walked up to them and pushed his way into the middle. “Are you telling Planter your plan? Don’t you think you should be telling me too?”

  Watcher sighed. “There’s no plan yet.”

  “Maybe you need to get on that instead of whispering in the dark like a school kid.”

  The big warrior looked down at Planter and gave her a smile, which she returned. Jealousy burned bright in Watcher’s soul.

  “I need to be alone and think,” Watcher said, then veered away from the pair and walked by himself near the edge of the passage.

  Suddenly, a dark presence appeared before him, startling Watcher. He reached for his bow and notched an arrow, but stopped when a wide grin spread across the mysterious face.

  “Blaster … I wish you wouldn’t do that!” Watcher scowled at the boy, but it only made his smile grow wider.

  “Sorry,” Blaster said, “but I do what I do.”

  “What did you see up ahead?” Watcher slowed his pace and moved back to the center of the tunnel with Blaster in tow. The rest of the villagers gathered around them.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Blaster said.

  “Then how ‘bout you tell us?” Winger said, a scowl on her face.

  “Is it the room with pillars?” Watcher asked. “All of them are white, with redstone lanterns near the base?”

  Blaster nodded, a look of surprise on his face.

  “The Hall of Pillars.” Mapper whispered reverently. “This was the seat of power for the skeleton warlord, Ragnar the Tormentor. The ancient archives suggest he crafted countless terrible weapons in that chamber. At the end of the war, the wizards hid many of the weapons made by the monsters.”

  “Why didn’t they just destroy them?” Planter asked.

  “I don’t know,” Mapper said. “Maybe they hid them because they knew we’d need them in the future. Or maybe they couldn’t destroy them.”

  “Well, whether it’s destroyed or not, no one is using the Lightning Blade for a while,” Cleric said. “Lava makes things very unattractive.”

  “My fear is the skeleton warlord found some of those relics,” Mapper continued. “If he did, then we might be in serious trouble.”

  “Great pep talk.” Blaster patted the old man on the back. “The entrance is just up ahead. I suggest everyone gear up and get ready. You can be sure the monsters know we’re coming. But the strangest thing … I didn’t see any skeletons.”

  “Did you go all the way into the Hall of Pillars?” Watcher asked.

  “You think I’m crazy? I’ll leave that for you and Cutter … you guys like that sort of thing, like the way you charged the entire skeleton army back there at that monster Workshop.” Blaster smiled. “I’ll leave all the courageous things to you.”

  The NPCs smiled and patted Watcher on the back. But the adulation just chipped away at his self-confidence.

  “I didn’t charge at those skeletons because I was being brave,” Watcher said meekly. “I did it because I just lost control.”

  “Then maybe you should lose control a little more often.” Blaster laughed a deep belly laugh that spread throughout the army, filling the passage with laughter, driving away their fears.

  When it subsided, the villagers took out their weapons and notched arrows to bowstrings, each with a look of determination on their square faces, the humor driven away by the reality of the situation.

  Watcher glanced around at his companions, and put on the same mask they wore, that of courage and confidence. But he knew his mask was a lie. He was terrified, but didn’t want anyone to know … he had to be an example of bravery.

  “Come on … everyone,” Watcher said, his voice cracking a little. “Let’s go take back the Helm of Calling, and teach that skeleton warlord a lesson about messing with villagers.”

  “Yeah!” they shouted and followed as Watcher ran through the passage toward the Hall of Pillars and whatever the skeleton had waiting for them.

  CHAPTER 32

  Watcher moved into the Hall of Pillars slowly, expecting a skeleton attack at any second. The chamber was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the soft scuffing sounds of their boots on the hard stone floor and the occasional squeak from bats fluttering about in the darkness. There was an ancient feel to the massive room, as if it had witnessed countless victories and defeats over the centuries, but the atrocities that had happened within this chamber seemed to leave a lingering echo of agony and despair. The Hall of Pillars had been part of the wizard and warlock war hundreds of years ago, and was now part of the struggle between the monsters and the NPCs of the Far Lands.

  Moving further into the cavernous space, Watcher peered into its depths with his keen eyesight; he saw nothing. The chamber before him stretched out for what seemed like hundreds of blocks until the far end merged with the haze of Minecraft and disappeared. The gigantic pillars were placed at precise intervals, each spaced eight blocks from its neighbor. They created a uniform field of white columns stretching high into the air until they disappeared into the darkness. Redstone lanterns decorated each pillar, the glowing cubes all four blocks high off the ground.

  “Where are all the skeletons?” Planter asked, her voice low, almost a whisper
. The empty expanse allowed her words to travel to the far walls and reflect back, the echo barely audible, but there. “I thought they’d be waiting for us at the entrance.”

  “Me too.” Watcher kept his voice quiet as he glanced at his companions. They all seemed nervous. “Maybe the ones in the tunnel were the only ones.”

  “No … they’re here,” Cutter said, his booming voice cutting through the stillness. “They know we’re here and they’re waiting for something.”

  The big NPC moved deeper into the chamber, the rest of the villagers following reluctantly. Suddenly, a high-pitched twang sounded in the distance. Watcher thought he recognized the sound, but before he could say anything, a shimmering something appeared out of the darkness. The boy stared at it as it approached, then was filled with fear when he recognized the threat.

  “It’s an arrow … EVERYONE TAKE COVER!”

  Watcher crouched, keeping his eyes on the projectiles, but most of the villagers were confused and just stood there. The arrow arched downward and struck one of the NPCs, a young villager named Carver. It hit him in the chest and knocked him to the ground. He flashed red over and over as he writhed in pain, then disappeared … his HP depleted.

  Twang.

  “Another one’s coming!” Watcher shouted. “Everyone scatter and get behind a pillar.”

  The villagers ran in all directions, terrified. Watcher could see the enchanted arrow approaching, its razor-sharp point glittering with magic. NPCs ran to the edges of the chamber, but the arrow seemed to track its target. It streaked down and struck a woman in the back. She fell face first onto the stone floor, then disappeared, only the items in her inventory showing she’d ever existed.

  A dry, hacking laugh floated out of the darkness, a clicking sound added to each chuckle.