Bones of Doom

by Mark Cheverton

  “I know that laugh.” Watcher took out his enchanted bow and notched an arrow.

  “Yeah … me too,” Cutter said, anger filling his steely-gray eyes.

  Just then, torches flared to life on the far side of the chamber. At least a hundred skeletons stood near the distant wall, many of them wearing different types of armor. And then a terrifying skeleton stepped out of the darkness and into the light, his eyes burning with hatred: it was the skeleton warlord. The other skeletons stepped back, making room for their leader. His size dwarfed the other skeletons, only his general, Rusak, being taller. Casting his gaze across his monster army, the monster stood a little taller, a look of satisfaction on his pale, bony face. He then faced the intruders and glared at Watcher and his friends.

  The monster wore iron armor decorated with jagged strips of red and black, the metallic plates glowing with powerful enchantments. In the warlord’s hand was a huge bow made of white bone, the weapon seeming to merge with his pale fingers. It shimmered with iridescent power, giving the weapon a lethal appearance. He drew the bowstring back. Instantly, a sparkling arrow appeared as he aimed up into the air. The warlord’s eyes glowed with an iridescent, purple color, giving the monster a faintly magical appearance. The warlord then flashed red, as if taking damage, while he pulled back the arrow a little further and aimed at his next target. With a smile on his terrifying face, the monster released the string, causing the enchanted arrow to streak into the air.

  “Everyone get behind a pillar.” Watcher ran forward and put his back against the quartz column, the redstone lantern glowing bright over his head.

  Peeking around the edge of the pillar, Watcher tracked the glittering shaft as it arched high into the air then gradually descended, heading toward its target.

  We should all be safe, he thought, though the words seemed hollow in his mind.

  The arrow zipped past him, then struck a nearby pillar at incredible speed. It went straight through the quartz column and embedded itself into a villager. Cobbler fell backward with the glittering arrow sticking out of his leather armor, then disappeared with a pop.

  “No,” moaned the villager’s wife. She ran to the pile of items and scooped them up, then collapsed to the floor in grief.

  “You have come to the land of the skeletons,” the warlord shouted. “This is my kingdom. I am the skeleton warlord, Rakir, and you will not be allowed to steal my relics. My Bow of Destruction will stop you.”

  “Oh no,” Mapper moaned. “The Fossil Bow of Destruction.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cleric moved to the old man’s side.

  “It’s one of the most powerful artifacts made by the warlocks.” Mapper shook with fear. “That bow can fire an arrow incredible distances, and it never misses. You can dodge or hide behind a mountain … it doesn’t matter. The magical arrow will go through anything to find its target.”

  “As we saw.” Planter pointed to the shattered quartz column and Cobbler’s wife, still weeping on the ground.

  Watcher peered around the edge of the column and stared at the monster. Rakir took a step closer, then reached back to his general. Rusak took the Helm of Calling from his inventory and handed it to the warlord. With an evil grin on his face, he brought the shining helmet near his head.

  “You don’t frighten us!” Cutter shouted.

  “Oh really?” Rakir tossed the Helm of Calling back to Rusak, then pulled back on the Fossil Bow’s string. With another red flash and a grunt of pain, he released the arrow, then fell to one knee.

  A skeleton moved to the warlord’s side and gave him food of some kind, allowing him to replenish his HP, but Rakir was terribly weak.

  Glancing to the glowing shaft, Watcher could somehow tell the arrow was heading straight for Cutter.

  We can’t afford to lose him, Watcher thought. Cutter’s our rock … our courage. Without him, we’ve lost.

  The boy dashed to Cutter, then stood in front of him.

  “Cutter, don’t move.” Watcher could sense the big warrior trying to move behind the nearby pillar. “I SAID, DON’T MOVE!”

  The big warrior stopped moving. A silence, like that of a graveyard on a moonless night spread across the chamber. Watcher stared at the sparkling projectile as it descended toward his friend. He knew if he failed, then Cutter was dead … and he himself likely was as well. There was only one chance to save Cutter.

  Dropping his bow, Watcher drew Needle and waited. He was terrified.

  “Step aside, Watcher … it’s okay,” Cutter said in a calm voice.

  “Be quiet!”

  Gripping the handle of Needle firmly, the boy brought the enchanted blade up and pointed it at the deadly projectile. It was getting closer. He could hear it whistling as it descended closer and closer and … faster than he could think, Needle swiped through the air and knocked the arrow aside. The enchanted shaft flew to the side and embedded itself into the stone ground, then disappeared.

  “That was close,” Planter said as she rushed to Watcher’s side … or did she go to Cutter?

  A large hand settled on his shoulder.

  “Thank you,” Cutter said, voice sincere.

  Watcher didn’t speak, but gave him a nod. Turning, he faced the skeleton warlord and pointed with his magical blade.

  “If we just stand here, we’re dead,” Blaster said. “We need to attack … now. No plan, no strategy, just attack.”

  “I agree,” Watcher said.

  Everyone looked shocked. Watcher was always the one that insisted on thinking through all the possibilities before coming up with a strategy. But now, he knew Blaster was right.

  “No, I think we have to think this through,” Cleric countered. “If we charge, it will take too long for us to get close. The warlord will just pick us off, one at a time.”

  “And when we get close enough, the other skeletons will open fire on us,” Mapper said. “We’ll have a hundred arrows raining down on us. We can’t survive a storm like that.”

  The other nodded, agreeing with everything said.

  “We attack,” Blaster said, undeterred.

  “I agree, we fight,” Cutter said.

  The villagers argued amongst themselves as Watcher considered the words. Something Mapper had said resonated in his mind.

  “Rain …” Watcher muttered.

  “What?” Planter asked, confused.

  Watcher looked at his friend, then remember the story about Planter and him being chased across the ice by Harvester. Suddenly, the solution materialized in his mind.

  “You’re right … you’re all right. We can’t just run at them and attack, and we can’t stay here.” Watcher looked to the skeleton warlord. He was slowly getting to his feet, his health gradually returning. “I have a plan, but you’ll all probably think I’m crazy when I tell you.”

  “We all thought that a long time ago,” Blaster said with a smile. “Why don’t you tell us anyway?”

  Watcher grinned. “Okay, here’s what I want you all to do.”

  And Watcher explained his plans to the other villagers. Some laughed, while others shook their heads, but they knew they had no choice. If they fled, then the skeletons would use their ancient enchanted weapons to take over the Far Lands. They had to make their stand here and now.

  Watcher removed the Frost Walker boots from his inventory and placed them on the ground. Stepping back, he drew the wand he’d found in the desert temple with all the parrots. Waving it over his head, he flicked his wrist over and over. Balls of light shot from the wand and struck the boots. They gave off bright flashes, forcing many of the villagers to look away, but Watcher kept staring down. He shot another ball of light at more of the boots, flicking the wand over and over again. Suddenly, pain surged through his body as the wand reached out for energy and found the boy’s HP. He flashed red, but kept replicating the boots.

  A glass bottle shattered against his enchanted armor, the potion dripping through the gaps between the metallic plates, adding t
o his HP. It allowed him to continue without driving his health to zero. Flicking the wand faster and faster, he showered the frozen boots with magical energy. Finally, when there were enough, he stopped and put the wand back into his inventory.

  “Well … that was quite the trick.” Blaster patted him on the back. “How did you know that would work?”

  “When I found this wand, I—”

  “Explain later.” Cutter tossed pairs of boots to each NPC.

  The skeleton warlord was now back on his feet and getting ready to fire another arrow.

  “Why don’t you try to shoot me?!” Watcher yelled out, taunting the monster.

  “Son, what are you doing?” Cleric moved to his son’s side.

  “It’s okay, just stay back.” Watcher put on a pair of the Frost Walker boots, then stepped away from the other villagers and held Needle at the ready.

  An arrow from Rakir’s bow streaked into the air, soaring high, then descending straight toward Watcher. When it was close enough, he brought Needle up. The enchanted blade flicked it aside again. Watcher shook with fear, hoping Needle would continue to protect him.

  He gave out a pair of magical boots to every villager. Cutter refused them at first, the stubborn warrior saying he didn’t need them. Planter gave him an angry glare, then smiled at the big NPC, successfully convincing him to wear the enchanted shoes. Once everyone had them on, Watcher gazed at his comrades. “Is everyone ready?”

  They nodded.

  “OK then, here we go.” He glanced at his sister as he pulled out a blue-tipped arrow, Winger doing the same. They aimed high into the air and fired, the water-arrows soaring into the chamber and landing on the ground between them and their enemy.

  Before the arrow hit the ground, Watcher and the others charged ahead.

  “For Carver …”

  “For Farmer …”

  “For Baker …”

  The villagers shouted the names of fallen comrades and family members as they followed Watcher, their leader, into battle, expecting a rain of arrows to fall down upon them at any second.

  CHAPTER 33

  Sprinting as fast as he could, Watcher charged straight at the warlord. Next to him, Cutter tried to keep up, his iron armor clanking with every step. For some reason, Watcher’s own armor made no noise; the enchantment kept it quiet, somehow.

  The skeleton warlord had a surprised expression on his pale face as the ragtag group of villagers ran forward, yelling the names of their fallen friends. The monster stared straight at Watcher, its dark beady eyes glued right to his.

  Slowly, Rakir pulled back on the Fossil Bow’s string and took aim.

  “NOW!” Watcher skidded to a stop and quickly put on a set of the Frost Walker boots as the rest of the villagers did the same. He and Winger then fired water arrows at the ground ahead of them.

  “RUN!” He took off, running atop the flowing water, the liquid freezing instantly.

  Planter and Winger, on either side of him, fired more water arrows as Watcher put away his bow and drew Needle.

  The warlord released his arrow. It streaked through the air, leaving a faint trail of sparks as it flew. Watcher tried to weave to the left, but the projectile turned, continuing to track its target. Increasing his speed, he dashed across the frozen water, heading straight for his adversary.

  More water arrows fell onto the floor of the Hall of Pillars, coating the surface with flowing blue liquid. With the Frost Walker boots, the villagers were able to move two to three times faster than any skeleton expected.

  The warlord’s arrow sped toward him, the pointed tip glistening in the light from the redstone lanterns. Watcher relaxed his arm, holding the blade before him as he skated across the ice. It was almost to him, almost there, almost … Needle became a silvery blur as it brushed the arrow aside.

  “You’re pretty good at that,” a deep voice said to his right. Watcher found Cutter at his side, diamond blade in his hand.

  “Let’s get this done,” Watcher said. “More water!”

  Archers, all wearing Frost Walker boots, fired water arrows ahead of them, but they also fired them at the skeletons who were now within range. They were moving so fast, the monsters’ arrows were of no concern; the bony creatures always fired where they had been a moment earlier, and not where they were going to be by the time the arrow arrived.

  The skeleton warlord pulled back on his Fossil Bow again, getting ready to fire, but a curved knife suddenly shot out of the darkness, spinning end over end until it hit the monster in the shoulder. Rakir dropped his bow and fell backward, already weakened from using the enchanted weapon.

  Rusak, the skeleton general, quickly scooped up his wounded leader and carried him behind their troops, giving him bones to revive his HP. The skeletons formed a protective circle around their leader, but before they could ready another volley of arrows, Watcher and the others were upon them. The water arrows fell amongst the monsters, knocking them aside and making it difficult for many to stand. Some fell to the ground while others just tried to retreat.

  Smashing into the skeletons at full speed, Watcher and Cutter knocked the monsters aside as if they were mere insects. They wanted the warlord and the general; the other villagers would take care of the skeletons.

  By now, the other villagers were firing upon the skeleton army as they drew near. The monsters tried to respond, but swordsmen and swordswomen running across the frozen water were already within their ranks.

  Screams of pain shouted out from both sides as the battle raged. Watcher heard the shouts of agony and fear, but knew he couldn’t focus on them. His job was to stop the warlord and take any ancient relics that monster possessed before he could do any more harm.

  Cutter’s diamond blade slashed through the skeleton ranks, snapping bones and tearing at HP. Watcher fought at his side with Needle moving with lightning speed. Some of the skeletons came at them with swords, the bony creatures garbed in various types of armor, but it didn’t matter. The speed and ferocity at which the two villagers fought was just too much for the skeletons.

  Suddenly, a bright red shield appeared next to Watcher. Planter blocked an arrow, then turned with her golden axe and slashed at a nearby skeleton. Its bones shattered under the assault, the monster disappearing, a look of confused terror on its pale face. Blaster appeared at her side with only one knife; the other was still embedded in the skeleton warlord. He held a shield in his left hand, a handful of arrows already sticking out like feathered quills.

  “Go get him,” Blaster said. “We’ll keep these monsters off your back.”

  Watcher nodded, then charged through a gap in the lines, heading for the warlord and general, who huddled near the far wall. Watcher and Cutter approached slowly, with Blaster and Planter following behind, knocking away arrows with their shields.

  By now, the skeleton army was in complete disarray. Likely, the monsters expected to pick the intruders off from afar, but now they were standing face to face with the NPCs. Few of them had swords, which meant the skeletons were in serious trouble. The NPCs drew swords and axes and charged into the pale ranks. The skeletons tried to hold them back with arrows, but the projectiles were not very effective at close range.

  At the same time, Watcher and Cutter closed in on the warlord and general. The two monsters stood on either side of a huge throne made of fossilized bone and redstone blocks. Redstone lanterns embedded in the floor around the ornate seat lit the scene with a warm yellow light, pushing back the gloom. A dark hole sat on either side of the throne, water flooding into each shadowy opening.

  We must be careful not to fall into those holes, Watcher thought, noting their position in his mind.

  “You think you can challenge Rakir, the skeleton warlord?” the monster shouted.

  He reached into his inventory, clearly looking for the Fossilized Bow, but it lay on the ground when it had been dropped, a step in front of Watcher.

  “Looking for this?” Watcher smiled, then bent down and gra
sped the bow with his left hand.

  For some reason, the warlord only smiled as he watched the boy pick up the magical weapon.

  Pain erupted in his Watcher’s arm as the bow seemed to stab at him, but he did not release his grip. Quickly he put the bow into his inventory, then shook his tingling arm.

  Rakir was shocked the boy was able to put the weapon aside. He glared at Watcher, then screamed. “You dare take the Fossil Bow of Destruction from me?!”

  “You want it?” Watcher sneered at the monster. “Come and get it.”

  Rakir reached into his inventory and drew a long two-handed sword. It sparkled with magical enchantments but was also surrounded by a dark halo, as if the weapon were drinking in the light around it. The blade itself was black as midnight, its keen edge gleaming in the light from the redstone lanterns.

  “You think that bow is my only weapon.” Rakir glared at him. “You are a fool.” The skeleton smiled. “Allow me to introduce to you the Widow-Maker, and it will soon destroy you and leave your widow sobbing in grief.”

  “Too bad I’m not married,” Watcher returned with a grin, then glared at the monster.

  Fear started to creep into the back of his mind; the skeleton was terrifying to behold, but he knew this monster would destroy every one of his friends if given the chance. He had to stop him, here and now … and that meant standing up to his fear, somehow.

  “Skeleton warlord, I will not allow you to hurt my friends or any other villagers.”

  “What are you gonna do about it, boy-wizard?” Rakir sneered, then took a step closer, his massive broadsword held casually on his shoulder. “You don’t have your powers, for if you did, you’d be using them. You’re just a worthless kid, pretending to be brave, but I can see the fear deep within you. You don’t stand a chance against me.”

  Watcher took a step back. The skeleton warlord was right; Watcher didn’t stand a chance against this huge monster and his massive sword. He was just a kid, pretending to be a warrior, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

  But then, a voice whispered something in the back of his mind. A hero can be the smallest and weakest person, yet do great deeds if people believe in them.