Into the Spiders' Lair Read online

  Books by Mark Cheverton

  The Gameknight999 Series

  Invasion of the Overworld

  Battle for the Nether

  Confronting the Dragon

  The Mystery of Herobrine Series: A Gameknight999 Adventure

  Trouble in Zombie-town

  The Jungle Temple Oracle

  Last Stand on the Ocean Shore

  Herobrine Reborn Series: A Gameknight999 Adventure

  Saving Crafter

  The Destruction of the Overworld

  Gameknight999 vs. Herobrine

  Herobrine’s Revenge Series: A Gameknight999 Adventure

  The Phantom Virus

  Overworld in Flames

  System Overload

  The Birth of Herobrine: A Gameknight999 Adventure

  The Great Zombie Invasion

  Attack of the Shadow-Crafters

  Herobrine’s War

  The Mystery of Entity303: A Gameknight999 Adventure

  Terrors of the Forest

  Monsters in the Mist

  Mission to the Moon

  The Gameknight999 Box Set

  The Gameknight999 vs. Herobrine Box Set

  The Gameknight999 Adventures Through Time Box Set

  The Rise of the Warlords: A Far Lands Adventure

  Zombies Attack!

  The Bones of Doom

  Into the Spiders’ Lair

  Wither War: A Far Lands Adventure

  The Wither King (Coming Soon!)

  The Withers Awaken (Coming Soon!)

  The Wither Invasion (Coming Soon!)

  This book is not authorized or sponsored by Microsoft Corp., Mojang AB, Notch Development AB or Scholastic Inc., or any other person or entity owning or controlling rights in the Minecraft name, trademark, or copyrights.

  Copyright © 2018 by Mark Cheverton

  Minecraft® is a registered trademark of Notch Development AB

  The Minecraft game is copyright © Mojang AB

  This book is not authorized or sponsored by Microsoft Corp., Mojang AB, Notch Development AB, or Scholastic Inc., or any other person or entity owning or controlling rights in the Minecraft name, trademark, or copyrights.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

  Sky Pony Press books may be purchased in bulk at special discounts for sales promotion, corporate gifts, fund-raising, or educational purposes. Special editions can also be created to specifications. For details, contact the Special Sales Department, Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018 or [email protected].

  Sky Pony® is a registered trademark of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.®, a Delaware corporation.

  Visit our website at www.skyponypress.com.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

  Cover design by Brian Peterson

  Cover artwork by Vilandas Sukutis (www.veloscraft.com)

  Technical consultant: Gameknight999

  Print Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5107-2739-7

  Print Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-5107-2833-2

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-2743-4

  Printed in the United States of America

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As always, I must acknowledge the support I receive from my family. Their tireless acceptance of my writing obsession, which often goes until late at night and sometimes even into the wee hours of the morning, makes it possible for me to put quill to parchment and craft these stories. I also want to thank the great people at Skyhorse Publishing. Their faith in my first novel made all the subsequent ones possible. Their editors, especially Cory Allyn, and marketing and sales people are the best! Lastly, I want to thank my agent, Holly Root, from Root Literary. Her faith and encouragement toward me and my stories is always appreciated and never taken for granted.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  I’ve really enjoyed the feedback I’ve received from the readers of the Rise of the Warlords series. Everyone seems to love these books, and I’m thankful to all of you who are telling their friends about them. I know some of you have even told your teachers, and entire classes are now reading them. Thank you for spreading the word. You’ve all embraced Watcher, Blaster, Planter, Cutter, and, of course, Er-lan, and I appreciate you taking them into your lives.

  Your emails (you can send them to me through my website, www.markcheverton.com) are the highlights of my days. I love reading what you all think about the stories, and I have especially enjoyed seeing your fan fiction with these new characters. Your creativity at crafting new tales not just with my characters, but with your own, is inspiring. I love the comments many of you leave on my website, complimenting others on their stories or artwork—the community warms my heart. I’ll be looking forward to more stories from you all . . . please keep them coming!

  With respect to the online game, based on the first book of this series, the results are in: it’s a hit. Thousands of you have played the game and I’ve had numerous videos sent to me, showing you slaying the Wither King in the game. I’m so glad all of you are enjoying the game . . . it’s been fun playing it with many readers. If you don’t know about the online game from Zombies Attack! you can find information about it here: http://markcheverton.com/zombies-attack-rpg-game/. You can get to the game by going to the Gameknight999 Minecraft server—the IP address is mc.gameknight999.com—or you can find information about the server at www.gameknight999.com. Come check it out; there is free stuff there, as well as images of things built on the server. Look for me, Monkeypants_271, and my son, Gameknight999, there, and maybe we can play a game of paintball, but I’ll warn you . . . I’m not very good.

  Look for me on Twitter, too, @MarkC_Author, or on Facebook @InvasionOfTheOverworld, and say hello.

  Keep reading, and watch out for creepers.

  Mark

  Failures have a way of uncovering the deepest parts of our character and revealing the true self that many of us keep hidden. Only through confronting obstacles and learning how to vanquish them do we learn who we really are, and what we are capable of. Embrace the challenges in your life, for each is an opportunity to grow and become more than you were yesterday . . . and who knows who you’ll be tomorrow?

  CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  It was a strange sight: so many villagers living their lives in a huge savannah community without a single weapon in sight. At times, Watcher almost felt naked without his bow or enchanted sword, Needle. They
were tucked away in his inventory, kept hidden away out of respect for the nonviolent beliefs of the NPCs (non-playable characters).

  Watcher gazed out at the village and surrounding terrain from atop the cobblestone watchtower. The view was fantastic. He could see over the tall barricade that ringed the community and out into the savannah desert surrounding the village. Pale grass grew across the undulating plains, the delicate blades swaying back and forth under the caress of the constant east-to-west breeze. Acacia trees dotted the landscape. Their dark trunks were twisted and bent in unique ways, as if a child had been sculpting them out of clay, distorting them into different and imaginative forms. Watcher loved the shapes; it was like they were frozen mid-dance, a snapshot of their joyous celebration now captured for all to see.

  He had come to the tower to see the sunrise; it was his favorite time of the day. But now, the blushing red sky had already faded to a deep blue, the rectangular clouds fleeing the rising sun. The Far Lands seemed peaceful and content. Being millions of blocks from the center of the Overworld, this land was isolated from the turmoil of Minecraft and its constant struggle between users and monsters. In the Far Lands, there were no users and never had been, just villagers and creatures, and at the moment, all seemed in balance.

  Animals moved about through the savannah, as well as the occasional zombie or skeleton. None of the monsters approached the village; the imposing wall made it clear any attacks would be futile. That was a good impression to give; if the mob had attacked and gotten inside the walls, the inhabitants would have done nothing. The NPCs in this community were pacifists and refused to partake in any violence. They’d let the zombies scratch and pound at the stone and brick walls that surrounded their village before they raised a weapon to stop them.

  Watcher, his friends, neighbors, and companions had only been in this village for a couple of months. They’d come here after destroying the skeleton warlord and his horde of monsters in the Hall of Pillars. During that conflict, the skeletons had demolished Watcher’s village, burning it to the ground and leaving them all homeless, but fortunately, these villagers had taken Watcher and his friends and neighbors in with open arms; it was a kind gesture they all appreciated and respected.

  With the clucks of chickens and moos of cows greeting the new day, the villagers were slowly beginning to awaken. Glancing at the landscape one more time, Watcher turned and mounted the ladder that descended to the ground floor. Once at the bottom, he left the cobblestone structure and walked to the village well, the center of the community. He leaned on the edge of the cobblestone wall ringing the water source and stared out at the buildings that made up the village. The blacksmith was stoking one of the furnaces, likely smelting iron ore into ingots. Yeasty aromas drifted from the bakery as freshly baked loaves of bread were placed on windowsills to cool. Farmers and planters were heading for the fields, ready to tend their crops as others brought hay and seed to animals in pens; the village was slowly coming back to life after a long night’s sleep.

  “Hi, Watcher.” The voice startled him.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he found Planter leaning on an adjacent side of the well, a warm smile lighting up her beautiful face.

  “Don’t you just love it here? The massive wall they built around their community keeps all the creatures out, making it so they don’t have to fight them off.” Planter walked around the well and stood in front of him. “It makes this place seem so peaceful.”

  The morning light from the square sun shone down on the courtyard, making Planter’s long blond hair appear to almost glow; the sight took Watcher’s breath away. She said something to him, but he didn’t hear; his mind was enraptured by the image before him.

  He thought about their history together. Growing up in the same village, Watcher and Planter had played together since they learned to walk, but now, she no longer seemed like the childhood friend from the past . . . she was more. At the end of their last adventure, Watcher had wanted to tell her how he felt: that he liked her, not just as a friend, but more. Unfortunately, that opportunity had slipped away, along with his courage. Now, it no longer felt like the right time anymore, and he was afraid to say something to her.

  I want to tell her how I feel, but what if she doesn’t feel the same? he thought. I might end up looking like a fool, and at the same time destroy the friendship I treasure so much.

  When it came to Planter, uncertainty and fear ruled his mind. He kinda missed the old days when they were just friends, but he knew things were different now. . . . He wanted more.

  She said something, but Watcher was lost in his thoughts.

  “Ahh . . . what?” he said.

  “Were you even paying attention?” Planter shook her rectangular finger playfully at him, then smiled. “You were daydreaming again, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah . . . sure, that’s it.”

  “Well, pay attention.” She sat beside him. “I was saying . . . I think I like the non-violent attitude of these villagers. They refuse to fight with the monsters and they reject all weapons. No swords means peace.”

  “That’s fine, if the monsters agree with you,” Watcher said. “As soon as they step outside these walls, their non-violent attitude might get them killed.”

  “Oh Watcher . . . you always see the dark side of things.”

  “That’s not true, I just—”

  “Someone . . . help!” a voice suddenly shouted, interrupting them.

  Watcher immediately took off towards the sound, Planter just a few steps behind him. As he ran, he pulled on pieces of his enchanted iron armor. The iridescent glow from the metallic plates painted the ground with a subtle purple light. At the same time, Planter donned her enchanted chainmail, the links jingling together like delicate wind chimes. Reaching into his inventory, Watcher found the handle to his magical sword, Needle, but refrained from drawing the weapon, remembering the villagers in this community didn’t even like seeing swords or bows.

  He dashed around the corner of a large house, heading for what sounded like someone crying. Before him was the entrance to the village mine. A woman sat on the steps weeping, her tan smock with a wide brown stripe down the center stained with dust and dirt.

  “She’s down there . . . someone must help her!” The woman saw Watcher approaching and stood. “Please, you have to help me.”

  “Of course we’ll help,” Watcher said reassuringly. “Tell us who you are and what’s wrong.”

  “It’s my daughter, Fencer . . . she’s down there and she’s hurt.” The woman stood and faced Watcher. Her long black hair, braided into a ponytail, lay dangling across her shoulder. Brightly colored pieces of cloth were tied to it, though the decorations were now stained with dirt. “She fell into a cave and she’s hurt. I think there are monsters down there.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of her.” Planter reached out and wrapped her arms around the woman. She burst into tears, weeping into Planter’s shoulder. “Show us where your daughter fell.”

  The woman released the hug and wiped at her cheeks, then faced Watcher. “Saddler.”

  “What?” Watcher asked, confused.

  “My name is Saddler and that’s my daughter, Fencer, down there in the cave.” She turned and ran down the steps. “Come . . . she’s this way.”

  The woman ran with surprising agility down the steps leading into the mines, with Watcher and Planter following close behind.

  “What’s going on?” a voice asked from behind them.

  Watcher glanced over his shoulder and found Blaster following them, his black leather armor blending in with the shadows in the passage.

  “Blaster, I’m glad you’re here,” Watcher said. “Someone needs help.”

  “Then let’s get moving faster,” Blaster replied.

  “She’s down here,” Saddler said, her voice echoing off the walls. The mother was beginning to sound frantic.

  They reached the bottom of the stairway, then turned to the left and followed the main t
unnel. Multiple passages split off to the left and right, each showing huge sections of dirt and stone having been dug up where the miners were looking for coal, iron, diamond, redstone . . .

  “This is like a maze down here.” Planter’s voice bounced off the stone walls of the passage and came back to Watcher from all sides; it made him smile.

  “Notice the torches?” Watcher pointed to the torches on the walls. “They’re all on the right side of each passage. That tells you whether you’re heading deeper into the mine or back toward the entrance. Torches on the right, you’re going in deeper. Torches on the left, you’re heading out.”

  Planter nodded in understanding.

  “Here it is.” Saddler stopped at an intersection of two passages. A redstone torch was planted on the ground, the crimson glow pushing back on the darkness. “I put this torch here so it would be easy to find.”

  “Saddler, what happened to your daughter?” Planter asked.

  “She was down here, taking her turn in the mines like everyone else in the village, when she fell into a cavern.”

  “What happened? How did she fall in? Did she . . .”

  “She’s right over here.” Saddler ran through a narrow passage, then stopped at another redstone torch. “I don’t know what happened. Maybe she was digging straight down?”

  Next to the torch, a hole opened to a large cavern under the tunnel. Lava bubbled somewhere nearby, filling the air with ash, but also lighting the chamber with an orange glow.

  Watcher knelt and stuck his head into the hole. Far below, he saw the girl laying on her side, motionless. Suddenly, the clattering of bones filled the air.

  “There are skeletons down there, and who knows what else.” Watcher stood up. “We need to get to her . . . fast.”

  Blaster pulled out an iron pickaxe. “Step back.”

  The boy dug into the wall of the tunnel, creating a larger hole. Then, he carved into the stone, forming steps as he descended along the edge of the chamber.

  Watcher pulled out his enchanted bow and notched an arrow to the string. Saddler saw the weapon and scowled in disapproval, moving in front of the boy.