Bacca and the Skeleton King Page 4

  “I have an idea,” said Bacca. “What if I get the Bonesword back for you?”

  The zombies looked at one another skeptically.

  “mmmmA crafter—even a very famous one—cannot succeed where whole armies have failed,” insisted Drooler. “You must be as crazy as you are hairy.”

  Bacca ignored this thinly-veiled jab—he was proud of being hairy!—and spoke to the Zombie King directly.

  “I’ll make a deal with you. Call off your armies for just one week, and I’ll get the Bonesword back for you. Just seven days. That’s all I need.”

  Drooler opened his mouth to object, but the king was already intrigued.

  “mmmmHow will you do this?” the king asked.

  “First, I’ll go and talk to the skeletons,” Bacca said. “I can be very convincing. If they don’t want to give it back, then I’ll try something else. What have you got to lose, except more soldiers?”

  The Zombie King drummed his remaining fingers. He appeared to be considering it.

  “mmmmMy liege …” objected Drooler. “You’re not seriously going to let this lowly crafter interrupt our glorious and noble war, are you?”

  The king turned to Drooler and stared him down. He had made his decision.

  “mmmmVery well, Bacca,” said the Zombie King. “I am going to call your bluff. I have heard you can be a useful man. But I am going to make an addition to our bargain. Your student, Dug … this question of whether or not he should be a crafter intrigues me. If you show me that two crafters can return our Bonesword safely, then Dug may continue his studies with my blessings. But if you fail, then Dug must renounce crafting forever and enlist in the zombie army, where it seems to me that a zombie like him would be best suited. What do you say to that?”

  Bacca’s jaw dropped. He had not been expecting this. He was fairly confident he could find a way to get the Bonesword back, but he was not about to wager a young crafter’s future on it.

  Bacca started to tell the Zombie King that this was asking too much, and that it wasn’t fair to put a promising crafter’s career at stake over this, but he realized that Dug was already moaning. It was an especially long and complicated moan. When it was finished, Dug turned to Bacca and smiled through his withered zombie lips.

  “mmmmVery well,” said the zombie king. “Then it is agreed. We have a bargain.”

  “Dug, what did you just do?” Bacca asked.

  “mmmmI said yes,” Dug replied.

  “No, Dug, this is too much. It’s not guaranteed that we will succeed. No crafter is perfect, even the best ones.”

  “mmmmIt’s what I want to do,” Dug said. “Besides. We will succeed. I know it.”

  “mmmmThere you have it,” said the Zombie King. “The pact is made. I will order my generals to stand down for exactly seven days, and no more. If there is anything else we may do to help you in your mission, you have only to ask.”

  Bacca realized that much more was at stake than just some trampled crafter creations. The outcome of this quest could determine the future of all zombie crafters in the Overworld.

  “There is one more thing,” Bacca said. “Before we leave, I would like to see the room with the gold and emerald blocks where the skeletons stole the Bonesword. There may be clues inside that will help me.”

  “mmmmYes,” said the Zombie King. “Drooler will be happy to show you.”

  The zombie in the diamond armor looked surprised, then annoyed. He took a few shambling steps toward Bacca and Dug.

  “mmmmIt’s this way,” he said reluctantly. “C’mon. Follow me.”

  Drooler led Bacca and Dug out of the throne room and through a series of winding passageways. Apparently, word of their visit had gotten around Gravehome. The zombies they passed in the hallways now pointed and made long, complicated moans as Bacca and Dug passed. Bacca felt like even more of a celebrity than usual.

  After traversing a long corridor of sandstone stairs, they arrived at a door framed with bright blue lapis lazuli blocks. This was the ceremonial room where the Bonesword was kept.

  Drooler opened the door and the trio made their way inside. It looked much as Drooler had described it. Two zombie sentries were standing guard on either side of the granite platform flanked by blocks of gold and emerald. Bacca thought it was strange that the guards were still there, since the Bonesword was long gone.

  Bacca examined the room carefully. The stone slabs and blocks of stone bricks that composed the walls looked strong and impenetrable. He ran his paws carefully across the walls. There did not seem to be any secret passages or trap doors. There were pressure plates on the floor, but the skeletons might have avoided these. There was only one entrance to the room—and that was the way they’d come in.

  Looking up, Bacca saw that the ceiling stretched high into the darkness above.

  “You say they escaped up there?” Bacca asked, gesturing up toward the blackness with his paw.

  “mmmmExactly,” Drooler said. “After they tied me up. They climbed ropes up to the ductwork in the ceiling. Then they pulled the ropes up after them. It was cleverly done, like they’d been planning it a long time.”

  “Are these the guards that were on duty that night?” Bacca asked.

  “mmmmNo,” Drooler said. “I fired those two for abandoning their posts. They said they heard noises down the hallway and left to investigate, but they shouldn’t have done that. Maybe the skeletons somehow made those noises to distract them.”

  Bacca nodded. Secretly, he wondered how skeletons had made noises outside of the room. It sounded fishy.

  “How does it look to you?” Bacca whispered to Dug. “Any ideas? Anything you want to ask? Now’s the time.”

  “mmmmOne question,” Dug began, speaking to Drooler in the common tongue for Bacca’s benefit. “When they took the Bonesword and carried it up the rope with them, how did they hold it and climb the ropes at the same time?”

  Much of Drooler’s face had long since rotted away, but he still found a way to knit his forehead menacingly at this question.

  “mmmmWhat do you mean how did they hold it?” Drooler said sternly.

  “Yes, it would be tricky to hold a heavy bone sword and climb up a rope at the same time,” Bacca said. “Especially if you only had thin little skeleton fingers. But I suppose they could have brought along some kind of skeleton backpacks in order to—”

  “mmmmYes!” Drooler all but screamed. “Backpacks. I forgot to mention that. They had backpacks. That’s how they did it.”

  “I see,” Bacca said, giving Dug a wink. “Clearly, we’ve taken up enough of your time, Mr. Drooler. Thank you for your help.”

  “mmmmOh … all right then,” said Drooler, suddenly brightening. “In that case, I will show you out.”

  “Very good,” said Bacca.

  Together, they followed Drooler out of the ceremonial chamber room and back down the passageway toward the exit to Gravehome. As they walked behind him, Bacca and Dug exchanged a glance.

  Mob members were generally not good liars, and zombies might have been the very worst at it. One thing was clear to Bacca and Dug: whatever had actually happened to the Bonesword, Drooler was not telling them the truth.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “What I don’t get is why he’s lying,” Bacca said as Gravehome began to fade into the distance behind them.

  They were headed for the jungle biome where the Skeleton King could be found.

  Dug nodded thoughtfully, but had no answer.

  “And you saw that ceremonial chamber,” Bacca continued. “The ceiling was hundreds of feet high. If skeletons rappelled down that wall and back up again, I’ll eat my … my … um. I was going to say ‘eat my hat’ but I don’t wear a hat. Anyhow, I’ll eat something very unpleasant. Like cooked fish.”

  Dug, who only ate raw human flesh (like any good zombie) agreed that this sounded most unpleasant.

  “I don’t even know if skeletons can climb ropes,” Bacca continued. “I’ve never seen one do it.
Nope, Drooler is definitely up to something.”

  “mmmmWhat do you think really happened?” Dug asked.

  “I think Drooler—or somebody working for him—took the sword,” Bacca replied. “Maybe to sell it. Maybe for some other reason that I can’t think of. But that’s definitely what happened.”

  “mmmmOr maybe Drooler works for the skeletons,” Dug theorized.

  “Hey, that’s not a bad idea,” Bacca said. “The skeletons could have paid him, or made him some other kind of promise. But that still doesn’t answer why the skeletons want the Bonesword in the first place.”

  “mmmmSo … what are we going to do at the skeleton temple?” Dug asked.

  “Exactly what we said we’d do,” Bacca answered. “We’ve heard from the zombies. So let’s see what the skeletons have to say for themselves.”

  Bacca was a free-spirit and didn’t like to be serious, but it suddenly occurred to him that he ought to bring up something serious with Dug.

  “Before we go any further, I want to talk to you about something,” Bacca said. “That wasn’t cool of the Zombie King to put you on the spot like that. Nobody should have to risk their status as a crafter in order to complete a quest, even an important one. I can’t ask you to do that. And he certainly can’t.”

  “mmmmI am confident that we will succeed,” the zombie said. “Besides, nobody made me agree to that bargain. I wanted to do it.”

  Bacca thought that Dug was being very brave. Or very foolish. He wasn’t entirely sure which.

  “Okay, but it still doesn’t seem right to me,” said Bacca sheepishly.

  Aware that they were now on the clock—the Zombie King had only given them one week to complete their task—Bacca and Dug journeyed as quickly as they could across the Overworld. They passed through many different biomes, until finally they began to see signs of the jungle where the skeletons dwelled. The sky was full of tall, healthy jungle trees. There were ferns and jungle flowers all across the landscape, and mysterious swaying vines dangling down from the canopy above. The land was also filled with ominous-looking temples made from giant blocks of moss stone and covered with leaves.

  Dug realized that Bacca was headed toward the largest and mossiest of them all. He had never seen it firsthand, but Dug knew that the Skeleton King lived in a jungle temple that was far bigger than all the rest. The thought of being around so many skeletons—especially when the zombies were at war with them—made Dug nervous. So far, they hadn’t actually seen any skeletons, but Dug thought he could hear their bones clicking in the distance … although it might have only been the sound of the jungle branches creaking in the wind.

  “mmmmNever been here before,” Dug said, looking around nervously.

  “Neither have I,” Bacca said.

  This did not exactly inspire Dug with confidence.

  “But don’t worry,” Bacca added. “Word about me has gotten around. I’ve dealt with skeletons before. And by ‘dealt with’ I mean ‘smashed with my diamond axe.’ Let’s just say that most skeletons that see me coming these days turn around and start heading the other way.”

  No sooner were these words out of Bacca’s mouth, than Dug did see some skeletons. They were standing along the walls of one of the temples in the distance.

  “Steady now,” Bacca said.

  As Bacca and Dug drew closer, the skeletons walked around and clucked their bony clucks to one another, but they did not attack.

  “mmmmDid you say earlier that you’d never met the Skeleton King?” Dug asked as they neared the immense, vine-draped temple that was their destination.

  “That’s right,” replied Bacca. “But I know of him. The skeletons have a king just like you zombies do. What makes me curious is this idea that zombies and skeletons don’t like one another. The Zombie King seemed really confident that skeletons are jealous of zombies, but I’ve never heard that. Never seen it either. Mob members will sometimes fight with other mobs, but it’s not personal, you know?”

  “mmmmYes,” Dug said. “I have tangled with some witches a time or two, for example, when they got aggressive and annoying. Like coming over and bragging too much about how they were good at brewing potions. It’s like, okay, I get it. You can brew potions. Why do you need to tell me about it? Who exactly are you trying to convince, ladies? You come off as a little insecure, if you ask me.”

  “But you don’t have anything against witches as a group right?” Bacca said.

  “mmmmNot at all,” Dug replied. “Eventually they always realize I’m not interested in their potions and they go away and it’s over.”

  “See, exactly,” Bacca said. “That’s how it works with most mobs. But the zombies in Gravehome seem to think that the skeletons have something against you guys on a deeper level.”

  “mmmmThat would be news to me,” Dug said.

  “Yeah, me too,” replied Bacca.

  They reached the foot of the temple. It was located at the very center of the jungle biome where the trees were so thick overhead that it seemed to be always night. Because of this, the skeletons could move outside at any time of day. A long staircase of cobblestone stairs led up to a bigplatform in front of the temple entrance. The giant blocks were thick with moss. A few skeletons could be seen along the ramparts, but loud clicking sounds hinted at many other skeletons lurking nearby. Dug knew that this had to be the temple of the Skeleton King.

  Bacca and Dug began the long, slow trek up the staircase. By the time they reached the top, the Skeleton King was there waiting for them. Dug could tell that he was the king because he was wearing a crown made from human finger bones, and he had the largest bow Dug had ever seen. A long white beard was attached to his chin bone. Skeleton soldiers stood to either side of him. (For the moment, their bows were not raised.) At one end of the temple platform, a pair of spider jockeys—seated astride huge, snarling spiders—gripped their reins hard to keep their bucking mounts at bay.

  It was even harder to tell a skeleton’s facial expression than a zombie’s, but Bacca had the distinct impression that the king was sizing him up. The Skeleton King waited patiently as Bacca and Dug edged closer. He spoke in a voice filled with tiny, bony clicks.

  “Who are you, and why have you brought a zombie here?” the king clicked.

  He was direct, if nothing else. Bacca appreciated that.

  “I’m Bacca,” said Bacca. “I think you might have heard of me.”

  Some of the zombies clicked excitedly to one another.

  “Yes, we have heard of you,” said the king. “You are a great crafter. And a great warrior, too. But none of that explains why you are here at our temple with a zombie. Do you not know that a state of war exists between his kind and mine?”

  “Good news on that, actually,” Bacca said brightly. “I just negotiated a cease-fire with the Zombie King.”

  The Skeleton King opened his bony mouth, but no sound came out. He was aghast. (Which was not quite as bad as being an actual ghast, but still quite startling.)

  “Thank you …” Bacca said sarcastically, “… is something you might say in return. Anyhow, it’ll last a week. Longer if you agree to give back the Bonesword.”

  “What!?” the Zombie King cried. “The Bonesword? Is that what this is all about? They think we took their stupid relic?”

  “Well … did you?” Bacca asked.

  “Of course not,” cried the king. “Why would we? We don’t even use swords. Every skeleton knows that bows are the only true weapon.”

  The skeleton soldiers next to the king raised up their bows to show that this was true.

  “I’ll stick with axes myself, but to each his own,” Bacca said, while thinking that the skeletons did have a point. How many had he ever seen with a sword? He struggled to come up with a single one.

  “Why in the Overworld do the zombies think we took the Bonesword?” the Skeleton King pressed.

  “Funny you should ask that,” Bacca replied. “One of the top zombies named Drooler swears he act
ually saw your people take it.”

  “If I find out that any of my skeletons so much as—” the king began.

  Bacca didn’t let him finish.

  “Relax,” Bacca said. “I know that skeletons didn’t take it. But the only way I could get the zombies to agree to a truce was to say I’d get it back from you.”

  The Skeleton King’s bony body language told Bacca that he found this plan irritating.

  “Then what are we going to do?” asked the Skeleton King. “Did you even think about that?”

  “We have a week to figure out a plan,” said Bacca. “A little less, actually. It was a long journey to get here.”

  “Perhaps you and I should take a walk and discuss this,” the king said to Bacca. “Just you and I. What do you say? Once around the temple? I assure you, the tree canopy will keep me quite safe from the sun’s effects.”

  “Okay,” said Bacca. “Will my friend Dug be all right with your soldiers? They look pretty menacing, and he’s just a kid.”

  “No harm will come to him,” said the king. “If my friends seem a bit … aggressive, it is only because so many of our kind have perished at the hands of zombies in the past few days.”

  Bacca turned to Dug.

  “Are you okay to hang out here?” Bacca asked.

  “mmmmYes,” Dug said brightly. “I have always wanted to see a spider jockey up close.”

  “Well, now’s your chance,” said Bacca.

  As Dug made his first-ever attempt to pet a spider jockey’s spider, Bacca followed the Skeleton King down the long stone staircase at the front of the temple to the jungle floor below, and the two began to walk in a circle around the great temple. Skeleton guards stationed along the tops of the temple walls looked down at them from far above. Bacca realized that the king was never truly out of sight from his soldiers. And these looked to be the best soldiers of all. The slightly unnerving thought that he was always in range of one of their powerful bows never left Bacca’s head.