The Jungle Temple Oracle Read online

  All four of the spiders clicked their mandibles together as they bowed their heads to the spider queen.

  “Now go!” she commanded.

  The four spiders scurried to the cave opening, then shot up into the tunnels that led to the surface, some of them crawling along the ceiling while others moved on the walls and floor.

  “Well done,” Herobrine said as he turned back from the entrance to face the spider queen. “It is now more important than ever that you guard the old hag and make sure that none reach her. I feel that her part in this is not complete yet, and she may still be useful to us. I created you to guard her a century ago, now you must fulfill your task and guard her well. Do you understand?”

  Shaikulud bowed her head in acquiescence, her purple eyes glowing bright.

  “Excellent,” Herobrine said. “Now go tend to your eggs and send out the sentries to guard the hag in her stone hut. Let no one reach her and punish those who try.”

  “The Maker’ssss commandssss will be done.”

  Turning, Herobrine faced the cave opening, then allowed all of his anger and hatred for his enemy to build, causing his eyes to flare bright.

  “You won’t hide from me much longer!” he shouted.

  And then he gathered all of his powers and reached into the very fabric of Minecraft, yelling with all his might, “I’M COMING FOR YOU GAMEKNIGHT999!”

  Herobrine then disappeared, pursuing his prey.

  CHAPTER 9

  THE SPIDER’S WEB

  The NPCs moved across the ice spikes biome in complete silence, the only sound being that of their feet crunching through the thin layer of snow on the ground. Fingertips tingled as the cold air bit at exposed skin, putting everyone a little on edge, but not just because of the temperature. They were all nervous. Being out in the open and visible from so far away was dangerous, and none of the NPCs liked this. They knew that if one monster spotted them and reported their location, then they likely would have a massive horde of monsters to contend with. As a result, the party moved between the snowy hills of this biome, following a winding path toward the two identical ice spires, the Twins. When they entered this strange land, the Twins had been far off in the distance, but now, after a hard day’s march, they loomed high overhead, just around the next bend.

  Gameknight walked near the front of the assembly, followed close by Monet113 and Stitcher, Crafter at his side. Suddenly, he stopped as he felt something echo through his entire being. It was a sensation that stabbed at him as if it were sharp and jagged, with rusty points tearing into his mind. At first, he thought someone, or something, had shouted is name, but it wasn’t a sound as much as it was a feeling . . . a very, very bad feeling. He could sense it through the fabric of Minecraft, the music of the server planes suddenly becoming dissonant and strained. Chills ran down his spine as he started to shake with fear.

  And then the feeling was gone.

  “What is it?” Crafter asked as he put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  “Ahh . . . nothing,” Gameknight lied as he rubbed his hands together to generate a little warmth.

  “It wasn’t nothing and you know it,” Monet said. “I can always tell when you lie, and you always do that thing.”

  “Do what?” he asked.

  “Ahh . . .” his sister answered, imitating her brother.

  Gameknight looked away, his square cheeks turning bright red.

  “I thought I felt something,” he explained, “you know, through the music of Minecraft. It felt like something violent and hateful was reaching out toward me.”

  “It was Herobrine, I’m sure of it,” Crafter said. “Only he would have the power to do that.” Glancing around, he could see the base of the Twins just ahead, two large hills on either side of them. Some smaller spires of ice dotted the hillsides, their glacial blue structures standing out against the snowy ground. “This would be a good place to camp for the night. It would be defendable.”

  Gameknight looked around as well, then nodded his head. Instantly, the NPCs started to work, setting up camp as they had done every night since leaving their village. Gameknight took his sister by the hand and climbed the nearest hill, getting out of the way of the villagers and letting them do their jobs. Once they reached the top of the hill, they sat on a block of frozen dirt and faced to the east, toward the gigantic ice spike in the distance . . . the Father. It loomed high in the air, the irregular shape twisting and turning as it soared upward, the top of the spike bulging outward, becoming twice as thick before it narrowed again and came to a point.

  They sat there, admiring the many ice sculptures that dotted the landscape while the sun gradually settled to the horizon, casting a warm crimson glow. A gentle breeze blew from the east, the cold wind seeming to drive the sun to its evening resting spot. It froze the siblings a bit and caused them to move closer together for warmth. Turning around, the brother and sister watched the sunset. As if on cue, the sky started to darken from its bright blue to a darker navy, a line of orange just emerging from the tree line in the distance.

  “The colors are really spectacular, don’t you think, sis?” Gameknight asked, his words floating out on square steamy clouds of breath.

  He received no answer. Turning, he found his sister’s face mesmerized as she watched the parade of colors, the frozen sculptures before them reflecting and refracting the colors in every way possible. The landscape turned from an ice blue and snowy white canvas to a painter’s palette covered with subtle colors and hues, each icy block and snow-covered patch reflecting the overhead display.

  The sun settled a little lower, now only half its square face visible.

  The sky changed to a deeper, darker blue with a scant few stars starting to show their shining presence far to the east. At the line dividing the sky from the ground, it was a battle between oranges and blues; the horizon looked to be lit aflame with every shade of orange and yellow and red, the space above it now a dark shade of blue. The clouds that continued to drift on their never ending trek to the west looked like fluffy white rectangles as they disappeared in the distance. They stood out in bright contrast against the navy sky but slowly darkened as they moved farther away.

  The sun sank even lower, now just the barest sliver of its luminous face still visible over the horizon.

  Monet gasped in wonder as the sky turned darker and darker, allowing the stars overhead to pierce through the dark veil of night, adding a sparkling climax to the colorful symphony. The horizon flared with one last gasp of orange fire, then faded to black as the sun disappeared.

  It was night.

  Gameknight turned to look at his sister. He saw a huge smile painted across her face, reaching from ear to ear. A small blocky tear followed a curving path down her cheek, then dripped off her chin and landed on the ground, instantly freezing.

  “I bet you want to paint right now?” he asked.

  She turned her head and nodded.

  “But I ran out of flowers to make dye,” she said, her voice sounding a little sad.

  Looking around, Gameknight could see that there were no flowers sprouting out of the ground in this frozen land.

  “It will have to wait until we get out of this biome,” Gameknight said. “But we’ll find some soon. Come on, let’s see if the camp is ready.”

  Standing, they carefully walked down the hillside. Gameknight was surprised to find the camp finished; the efficiency of these NPCs never ceased to amaze him. A wall of dirt blocks was now erected around the camp, with towers of wood and sandstone positioned here and there to give archers a clear field of fire. Atop the taller hills, he could see Watchers standing on some of the looming ice spikes, giving the guards a clear view of the area.

  At the center of the camp, Gameknight saw Herder finishing work on a corral, many of his animals already inside, clustered together for warmth. He had a strange way with animals; they all seemed to do whatever he commanded. His knowledge of the animals was unsurpassed, even with Crafter . . . he was
the perfect person to care for the village’s herd. Standing nearby was a large pack of wolves, each with a red collar, the animals completely bonded to the lanky youth.

  Near the animal pen, Gameknight could see a field of beds that had been placed close together, their inviting red blankets standing out in stark contrast against the blocks of snow and ice. This was where the villagers not on duty would sleep. Seeing the beds, Gameknight’s mind seemed to stop its resistance to the overwhelming fatigue that had been nipping at him for hours.

  “Come on, Monet, let’s get some rest.”

  “But I was going to go out with Stitcher and explore the ice spikes,” she complained.

  “Absolutely not,” Gameknight answered, his voice stern. “Stitcher is going out on guard duty, not a sightseeing trip. And you are too young and inexperienced to stand watch.”

  “But Stitcher is just as small as I am. Why can she go out and not me?”

  “There isn’t a monster in Minecraft that would accuse Stitcher of being small when she has her bow in her hand,” Gameknight999 explained. “She is a better shot than just about anyone, besides her sister, and she has faced down many a monster in battle. I have faith that Stitcher knows what she is doing.”

  “But not me . . . right?”

  “You’re too young and not ready yet!”

  “I never thought I’d see the day,” Monet said, sounding frustrated.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I never thought I’d see the day when you’d sound just like our parents: ‘You’re too young . . . you don’t know what you are doing . . . you aren’t responsible enough . . .’ Just like Mom and Dad.”

  Before Gameknight could answer, she spun and headed to one of the beds far from him. As he stood there, shocked and hurt by her comment, she took off her armor and put it on one of the armor stands near the head of the bead. Lying down, she turned and looked at her brother, then scowled and drew the red blanket over her, instantly falling asleep.

  Am I really that bad? Gameknight thought. I know that I fight with Mom and Dad about not being treated like a kid, that I want more responsibility. But with that responsibility comes a price . . . you have to follow through even when it’s hard.

  He looked at his sister lying there, asleep. Could he trust her to go out on guard duty and take on the responsibilities that all the other NPCs were doing? She was so impulsive sometimes, acting without thinking . . . that’s why they were stuck here inside Minecraft. She’d used the digitizer to come into the game without thinking about the consequences of her actions. And now they were both trapped . . . because of her!

  Growling in frustration, he moved to the field of beds and laid down. Gameknight kept his armor on, so he could respond quickly if they were attacked and rested his head down on the white pillow. It was not comfortable, lying down in his armor. All the places where it was cracked and chipped from the last battle with Herobrine seemed to dig into his skin, the cold diamond coating reminding him of that fateful encounter.

  He started to think about that last battle, when Herobrine had almost killed him, but his body’s fatigue finally won over, and in seconds he was asleep.

  A silvery mist swirled about him, obscuring the terrain and hiding everything from his vision. Instantly, he knew that he was in the Land of Dreams, the space between wakefulness and complete sleep. As dream-walkers, Hunter and Stitcher seemed to embrace this responsibility, the sisters going frequently into the Land of Dreams to ensure that everyone was safe. Monsters prowled the misty lands and could attack those who accidently appeared within the silvery fog; if you died in the Land of Dreams, you died in the waking world as well. But for Gameknight, this was just another heaping of responsibility that he’d rather not have.

  Moving forward, Gameknight could see something in the distance. As he neared, he found that it was a jungle biome, with tall junglewood trees spaced close together, their branches draped with vines. Nestled within the branches, he could see glowing orange cocoa pods. Their seeds could be used to make cookies and would keep you alive when food ran short.

  He could use a cookie right now.

  And then he felt a cold chill that bit through his armor and shook him to the bone. It wasn’t just a breeze, it was something else, something sinister and evil. Turning, he walked toward the source. Suddenly he found himself facing a series of steep hills, instantly recognizing them as an extreme hills biome. Carved into the closest of the hills was a large tunnel that yawned open like the mouth of some kind of gigantic beast. He could see blocks of stone that had been clearly placed around the edge of the entrance to look like teeth.

  Why would someone do that? he thought.

  Moving into the tunnel, he followed the ice-cold sensation through twisting tunnels and rocky passages. He knew that huge cave systems could always be found in the extreme hills biome, but he’d never explored one . . . until now.

  After a few minutes, the tunnel opened into a gigantic cavern, probably as big as that which housed zombie-town. The far side of the cave was not visible, masked by the silvery fog. This made the hollow structure seem even bigger. Stepping into the cavern, he looked at the walls. For some reason they looked like they were moving . . . writhing and squirming as if alive.

  He was scared.

  Reaching into his inventory, he drew his enchanted sword. The iridescent blue radiance from the blade lit the surroundings with a sapphire glow, allowing him to see the walls more clearly.

  Spiders . . . the walls were covered with spiders!

  They were everywhere, on the ground, on the walls and ceilings. But more disturbing were the eggs. There must have been a thousand eggs distributed throughout this chamber, black and red ones being tended by hundreds of blue cave spiders. And somehow, he could feel through the Land of Dreams that there were hundreds of spider nests like this one across the servers. If all these eggs hatched, they would overrun everything and destroy all the NPCs, and that’s if they didn’t lag out the servers and make them crash.

  What would happen if the server crashed? This thought made little square goose bumps form down the back of his neck.

  Just then, a huge object lowered itself from the ceiling, hanging on the thin piece of spider silk. He couldn’t see the creature well, its body still obscured by the silvery mist, but he could make out some features. Eight sharp, curved claws stuck out from the bottom of the mist, somehow sparkling in the darkness. He could not make out the body, though he assumed it was another spider. But he could make out the eyes . . . and there was something terrible about them. They glowed with a purple light that looked angry and hateful. They shone in the same way that the zombie king’s had . . . and the King of the Endermen . . . and the King of the Nether. All of these creatures, Xa-Tul, Erebus, and Malacoda, had all been cut from the same cloth; all crafted by Herobrine, and now it seemed that there was another. But this one felt more dangerous than the others, as if it had been created with only one purpose in mind . . . to destroy.

  “I see you have met my oldest creation,” said an evil voice.

  Turning, he could see Herobrine on the far side of the cave, his unmistakable eyes glowing bright with hatred. He was not clothed in black as he had been that last time they met; he looked different. The green smock with a brown stripe made him look like a hunter. The long sandy-blond hair that hung around his shoulders, coupled with his tall frame, made him look totally different, but the eyes showed his true self.

  “This is Shaikulud, my first creation,” Herobrine said. “I’m going to make sure you become well acquainted with her. You should take a good look at her now, for when you meet, you will likely not have the opportunity to appreciate her beauty.”

  Gameknight turned back to look at the spider. Her body was still obscured by the mist, but as he reached out with his mind, he saw thin purple curving threads stretch out from her eyes. The lavender filaments shot out in all directions and wrapped themselves around each individual spider. It was as if she were the puppet maste
r, controlling all of the spiders with her very will.

  Gameknight looked back at the queen and noticed that some thicker strands of glowing filament shot up to the rocky ceiling and pierced the stone roof as if it were not there. He wondered where those purple fibers went . . . maybe to more spiders somewhere else, or maybe to the many nests that were hidden in the shadows throughout Minecraft. But before he could really give it any thought, Herobrine’s voice filled his mind.

  “You will not elude my grasp for long, User-that-is-not-a-user. My lovely pets will find you soon enough, and then we will face each other again in battle.”

  “I’m not afraid of you, Herobrine!” Gameknight shouted, but his voice cracked with fear.

  Herobrine laughed.

  “When we meet, you will do as I command and take the Gateway of Light back to the physical world. You have no choice.”

  “Never!”

  “Ha! It is inevitable. When you feel your last heartbeat and draw your last breath, you will claw and scratch at anything that could save your miserable life, for you lack the strength to resist me. The skin that you wear is of a full-grown user, but I can see within you and I know that you are but a child. You don’t have the guts to make the hard decision and stick to it.”

  He laughed again, somehow sounding even more evil.

  “Soon you will be mine,” Herobrine said. “But for now, I think we’ll have a little fun.”

  Drawing his own diamond blade, Herobrine disappeared and materialized right next to him. Gameknight could see the shadow-crafter raise his sword and swing it at him.

  Without attempting to block the attack, Gameknight shouted with all his might.

  “WAKE UP . . . WAKE UP . . . WAKE UP.”

  Gameknight awoke, surrounded by villagers. Crafter had a cold hand on his shoulders and was shaking him violently.

  “I know how to wake him up,” Hunter said. “I’ve done it before.”

  Sitting up, Gameknight pushed Crafter’s hands off his shoulders, then held his hand up toward Hunter, stopping what he knew she was about to do.