The Wither Invasion Page 3

  Watcher smiled and moved down the steps, but suddenly stopped as a faint evil laugh echoed in the back of his mind. It wasn’t laughter of joy or contentment; rather, the vile chuckle hurt, like a rusty nail poking him in the back of his head.

  Baltheron, Taerian, Dalgaroth, is that one of you laughing? Watcher thought, sending his words to the enchanted weapons in his inventory.

  The minds of the wizards trapped in the three ancient artifacts remained silent for a long minute, then replied with only a single word … but it made no sense. Watcher wanted to ask them again, but knew they would say no more; they told him only what he needed to know for now.

  The three wizards had said in unison: Danger.

  “So much for it being a great day.” With chills running down his spine, Watcher continued down the steps toward his friends and home.

  Watcher emerged from the long brick staircase to cheers and applause. The entire community was gathered at the foot of the stairs, many of them banging weapons against their chest plates or shields. Someone was shooting fireworks up into the air, the tiny rockets exploding against the high ceiling, showering everyone with sparkling colors. With a smile on his square face, Watcher jumped off the stairs as the village’s celebration enveloped him with shouts and greetings and pats on the back.

  The children gathered excitedly around the wolves and mechites, the animals licking their young faces as the mechites stood nose to nose with the kids, looks of astonishment on their metal faces; it was the first time any of the metal creatures had ever seen an NPC their size.

  “Welcome home, friends.” Cleric’s voice boomed throughout the building, his words echoing off the cold brick walls. “We worried about your safety for many weeks. Your return has lightened many hearts.” The old man moved to Watcher and just stared at him with his warm brown eyes. Reaching out, he pulled Watcher into an embrace and squeezed him tight. “I thought I’d lost you son,” he whispered.

  “Not yet.” Watcher wiped tears from his eyes, some of them landing on his father’s always-clean white smock.

  Cleric glanced at Planter, admiring her sparkling blue armor for a moment, then reached out and pulled her into his embrace, too. When she hesitantly pulled back from the old man, Cleric glanced at Watcher, then back at Planter, confusion on his wrinkled face.

  “That’s a story for another time, Dad.” Watcher wiped another tear from his cheek, but this one was there for another reason—for Planter.

  Cleric nodded, then released his son and turned toward the old woman wearing the flowing burgundy smock, gold stitching along the hems, sleeves, and back.

  “Who’s your friend?” he asked.

  “Oh, yeah.” Watcher pulled his enchanted sword, Needle, from his inventory and banged it on his cracked-and-dented diamond armor, getting everyone’s attention. Putting it back, he pulled out a block of dirt and placed it on the ground, then stood on top. “Everyone, quiet down.” Watcher held his hands up in the air.

  “Be quiet!” Cutter’s thunderous voice instantly brought the room under control; everyone in the village had learned to do what the big warrior said. He never backed down.

  “Thanks, Cutter.” Watcher gave him a nod. “I’m sure you’ve all noticed we brought a few new friends.”

  “A few?” someone said. “It looks like you brought an army with you.”

  “Yeah,” someone else added, “a metal army.”

  Watcher smiled and nodded. “Yes, we have many iron wolves here.”

  One of the wolves howled, causing the rest to add their voices. Many of the villagers laughed as Watcher tried to get the metallic animals under control.

  “The small metal creatures who were riding on the wolves’ backs are called mechites.” Watcher glanced around at the crowd. “Where’s Fixit?”

  A quiet squeak drifted up from the crowd. Fencer bent over and lifted the tiny creature, placing him on her shoulder.

  “There he is.” Watcher pointed at his new friend. “That’s Fixit. He and all his friends helped us stop Krael and his army of withers. Also, we brought with us a wizard from the Great War.” Watcher pointed. “This is Mirthrandos, and we wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for her.”

  The NPCs clapped and cheered.

  “She and the mechites and wolves are gonna be living with us now,” Watcher said.

  “Anyone have a problem with that?” Cutter’s voice issued a challenge none dared take.

  “Good, then we can—”

  “Don’t forget about the golems,” Mira chimed in.

  “That’s right.” Watcher nodded. “Mira also brought with her an army of iron and obsidian golems. They’re up top, in the forest right now. We’ll need to figure out a way for them to get down here that’s a little easier than the redstone trail.”

  “I’m on it,” Blaster said.

  “I’ll help you.” Fencer smiled and moved to the boy’s side.

  Blaster grimaced while Watcher smiled.

  Suddenly that strange, evil chill Watcher had felt at the top of the stairs spread across his body again. Instinctively, he gathered his magic, as if expecting some kind of attack; the iridescent glow coming from his body grew brighter, casting a purple hue on the surroundings. Instantly, the NPCs stepped back, all of them still afraid of his magical powers. He glanced at Planter and Mira; their magic was glowing as well.

  Caution … something’s happening, a deep voice echoed in his head.

  Watcher instantly recognized the voice. “Baltheron, what is it?” He reached into his inventory and pulled out the Flail of Regrets; the leather-wrapped handle fit perfectly in his palm, as if the magical weapon had been made just for him.

  “Son, is everything okay?” Cleric asked.

  Watcher raised his hand, silencing both his father and many other questions being lobbed his way. Turning, Watcher glanced at Mirthrandos.

  “Did you hear that?”

  Mira and Planter both nodded.

  “What’s going on?” Watcher asked.

  “We need to go to the Viewing Chamber.” Mirthrandos pointed to a group of wolves and tapped the ground with her bent-and-crooked staff. Four of the creatures barked once, then filed in next to her as she pushed through the crowd. She glanced over her shoulder. “You two coming?”

  “Ahh … yeah, sure,” Watcher said, then glanced at Planter.

  She nodded and followed the ancient wizard, Watcher right behind.

  Footsteps echoed behind them, making a scratching sound with every step; Watcher turned and found Er-Lan following, an expression of concern on the zombie’s face. Next to him ran Fixit, the mechite’s little feet a silver blur.

  “Er-Lan will keep Watcher safe in these passages,” the zombie said.

  Squeak, squeak, squawk, Fixit added.

  “Ok, come on.” Watcher ran after Planter and Mirthrandos.

  The ancient wizard darted through the tunnels as if she still knew exactly where she was going, though she hadn’t been here for a couple of hundred years.

  “Where are you taking us, Mira?” Planter asked.

  “Something’s happened. Watcher’s weapons felt it through the layer of magic that sits atop the Pyramid of Servers. Some event must have disturbed that layer; we need to go to the Viewing Chamber and see what’s going on.”

  “Viewing Chamber?” Planter sounded confused. “What’s that?”

  “We never heard of the Viewing Chamber,” Watcher explained.

  “Wow … for a couple of wizards, you sure don’t know very much.” Mira glanced over her shoulder and smiled at her companions, then turned left at the next intersection. “The Viewing Chamber is a place where it’s possible to see into the other planes of existence. I bet, if something strange has happened, the wither king is responsible, so we should look.”

  She skidded to a stop before a blank wall.

  “Here it is.” Mira tapped her staff on the floor, the various bands of metal wrapped around the magical weapon reflecting the scant few rays of li
ght from a distant torch.

  “We’ve been here a hundred times.” Watcher moved to the wizard’s side. “There’s nothing here … it’s just a stone wall.”

  Mira shook her head disapprovingly, then pulled out a torch. Instantly, the stone wall was bathed in light, the rays reflecting off the smooth surface and lighting the adjacent wall. “What do you see now?”

  “It just looks like stone to me,” Planter said.

  Mira shook her head again. “Slide your hand across it and tell me what you feel.”

  Planter glanced at Watcher, confused. He shrugged and motioned to the wall.

  “Go ahead, do what she says,” Watcher said.

  Planter reached out with a glowing hand and slid it across the surface, her eyes growing wide with surprise. “It’s smooth.”

  “Of course it’s smooth. This wall was constructed from polished andesite; that’s not natural.” Mira smiled, then put a hand on Planter’s shoulder. “Use your magic and extend it into the wall.”

  Planter shook her head and stepped away from the wall, an angry scowl covering her face.

  “You don’t have to do it, Planter, I will.” Watcher moved to her side and put a reassuring hand on her arm.

  Instantly, she shrugged it off and moved back another step.

  With a sigh, Watcher concentrated on his magic, then extended it into the wall. Instantly, he could sense other enchantments hidden within the stony surface; spells of protection, spells of concealment and … he found the trigger and pushed it with his magic. There was a click, followed by the sound of stone sliding against stone. A doorway opened in the wall before them.

  “Well done, Watcher.” Mira tapped her staff on the ground. “I might make a wizard out of you yet.” She glanced at Planter, brows furrowed, then spotted Er-Lan and Fixit and smiled. “All of you, follow me.”

  She walked into the dark passage, the purple glow from her body lighting the way. Watcher paused for a moment, waiting for Planter, but she didn’t move.

  “Planter?”

  She just shook her head.

  “You can’t run away from what you are.” Watcher tried to keep his voice calm and reassuring, but it only made her more tense. “Planter, I think I’ll need you in there with me.”

  “You mean you need my magic.” Her voice had a sharp edge to it.

  Watcher nodded. “I don’t want to lie. Yeah, I need your magic. I wish I didn’t, but I think something important is happening and we both need to be in there.”

  “Er-Lan and Fixit will be at Planter’s side.” The zombie’s voice seemed to ease some of the tension in the air.

  She glanced at the zombie, then down at the little mechite and sighed in resignation. “Okay, I’ll try.”

  “Good,” Watcher said, but cringed when Planter cast him an angry glare.

  With a sigh, he waited as Planter, Er-Lan, and Fixit entered the passage, the zombie’s clawed feet making a scratching sound with every step. Watcher followed the little mechite into the passage, the purple glow from his arms and chest casting an iridescent hue on the polished walls and floors around them.

  A dusty, stale smell assaulted his nose as he moved through the narrow corridor. Likely, no one had been in this tunnel for hundreds of years. Across the ground, tiny clouds of dust billowed into the air as his companions’ feet churned up the ancient layer of dirt, making Watcher cough and sneeze.

  As he moved through the andesite-lined corridor, that strange chill slithered down his spine again. Watcher knew he’d felt it before, and he knew who was responsible for the terrible feeling: Krael, the king of the withers.

  Watcher glanced nervously about as he moved through the dusty passage. It felt as if someone or something was watching, waiting at the end of the tunnel; the creepy feeling caused tiny square goose bumps to form on his arms. Using his sensitive vision, something he was known for in his village, Watcher probed the darkness ahead, looking for threats, but saw none … for now.

  The narrow passage led to a large chamber lit by a single redstone lantern embedded in the ceiling a dozen blocks overhead. The ground was curiously smooth—not like ice, but smoother than stone or brick. Watcher glanced around, trying to see any details; the lantern did little to reveal their surroundings, but by the sound of their echoing footsteps, he could tell the chamber was huge.

  “This is the Viewing Chamber,” Mira said. “It will allow us to use various charms or spells to see into the other planes of existence.”

  “A little more light would be appreciated.” Planter’s quiet voice was monotone and emotionless; she sounded defeated.

  “More light?” Mira smiled, then banged her staff on the smooth floor. Instantly, tiny glowing sparks shot out of the metal-banded end. The glowing embers circled the ancient wizard once, then sped outward to the distant walls. The orange sparks struck torches mounted on the walls, lighting the sticks until there were twenty of them flickering along the edge of the chamber, filling the room with light. “How’s that?”

  No one responded; they were all stunned at what they could now see beneath their feet. A solid layer of glass blocks covered the floor, allowing them to see what lay underneath: nothing. The ground beneath the glass floor was missing all the way down to the bedrock, but even the bedrock was gone. They could look down and see all the way to the Void, the black nothingness which was death to touch; nothing survived the Void.

  The walls of the square abyss beneath them sparkled with an iridescent glow; clearly, there were some magic spells woven into the opening.

  “It’s kinda terrifying, being able to stare right down into nothingness … a deadly nothingness.” Planter shuddered a bit.

  “I never thought I’d ever see the Void,” Watcher said. “Well … I guess I hoped I’d never see it. But having a strong floor underfoot makes it a bit easier to look at.”

  “Er-Lan has heard stories of zombies falling through portals in … the stronghold? Is that the correct name?” Er-Lan glanced at Watcher, a confused expression on his scarred face.

  The young wizard nodded. “Yep, stronghold is the right name.”

  “The zombies fell into a strange island surrounded by the Void.”

  “That’s The End,” Planter said.

  “The End?” Er-Lan nodded. “It is appropriately named, for the story says it was the end of Minecraft.”

  “What happened?” Planter moved to Er-Lan’s side.

  “The zombies saw the Void and just stood there in fear. One of the monsters spotted a strange portal in the ground with a black egg sitting atop a column of bedrock. The zombie jumped through the portal and reappeared in the Overworld. The other monsters were never heard from again.” Er-Lan glanced at Planter. “The story was used to teach young zombies never to try new or unknown things, as the outcome might be bad.”

  “I don’t understand. That’s a strange lesson to teach children. New things can be good.” Watcher sounded confused.

  “Perhaps, but zombies are not known for being adventurous. Things that have been done before, that is what zombies like to do. Anything else, anything unknown or unpredictable; those things are not zombie things.”

  Planter and Watcher looked at their friend, contemplating his words.

  I wonder if the zombie warlocks ever—Watcher thought, but was silenced by Mirthrandos.

  “Enough of this.” Her harsh voice echoed off the stone walls, surrounding them as if an army of ancient wizards was in the room. “We need to find out what’s going on. I know a Seeing spell that will allow us to see into the other planes of existence, but it takes a lot of power. All three of us will have to work together and—”

  “Don’t worry, we know how to do this, right, Planter?” Watcher glanced at his friend.

  She gave him a blank look, as if her emotions had all but disappeared.

  “Just get some healing potions … please.” He smiled at her.

  Planter reached into her inventory and pulled out a splash potion of healing and held it at
the ready.

  “What are you gonna do with that?” Mira asked, narrowing her eyes.

  Watcher reached into his inventory and withdrew the ancient artifact he’d taken from the spider warlord so many months ago—a glass lens with two long leather straps attached on opposite ends. He held it up for Mirthrandos to see.

  The ancient wizard gasped. “Do you know what that is?”

  “Of course we do.” Watcher smiled. “It’s the Eye of Searching.”

  “That artifact was lost centuries ago, during the Great War. It was thought the withers stole it when they switched sides and started fighting for the monster warlocks.” She stared at Watcher, her old eyes burning with questions. “Where did you find it?”

  “It was taken from the Spider Warlord.” Er-Lan sounded proud.

  Fixit gazed up at the sparkling item and whistled with excitement.

  “With that thing, we can—”

  Watcher interrupted Mirthrandos. “I know, I can use it to see anything I concentrate on.” He smiled as if he’d just won some great victory.

  “Not you, but us.” Now it was Mira’s turn to smile. “The magical powers in the Viewing Chamber will project the image for all of us to see.” She backed up. “Move to the wall and put your backs to it.”

  They all moved to the edge of the room, standing next to each other.

  Watcher held the lens up to his eye, then tied the leather straps around his square head. Instantly, pain surged through his body as the Eye of Searching used his health as its power source to fuel the magical enchantments that made it work. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his enemy, the wither king, Krael. Instantly, the monster appeared in the middle of the room, each of his three heads wearing a Crown of Skulls.