Minecraft: Mob Squad: Never Say Nether: An Official Minecraft Novel

Miss Twolegs is a pretty good mount, but a strider just can’t compare to a pig. Pigs are cute, chubby, huggable, and make adorable grunts. Striders are just weird, and their skin feels kind of like mold growing on a very warm rock. Not that I would tell Miss Twolegs that. It’s not her fault that she can’t hold a torch to Thingy.

She’s fast, at least. We’re making great time, striding across the lava sea, and it’s a lot more fun than climbing a million steps and then walking on a skinny bridge thousands of feet over a boiling ocean of molten rock. I guess if the striders wanted to toss us, we’d be in trouble, but they are very motivated by fungus and haven’t given us a single bit of trouble.

Time seems to slow down as we race toward the giant fortress because even though I can feel the weirdly warm wind in my hair, nothing around us changes. It’s the same lava sea held by the same red walls. Every now and then, there’s a cluster of glowing crystal on the ceiling, but it mainly just makes me miss the sun. And the moon. And rain. And clouds and grass and flowers and cats and wolves and chickens and pumpkin pie. I’m starting to get sick of hoglin meat, and I didn’t like it that much to begin with.

It feels like it’s taking forever, but maybe that’s just because I’m so desperate to find my brother—or maybe the fortress is just really, really big. It has bridges and square bits and fancy bits and corners, growing right out of the rock and looming over the lava. Torchlight shines out the windows, giving us proof that someone is inside. Sure, it could just be more piglins, but I hear a very familiar sound: mining. And, farther off, someone fighting a mob of some sort.

Mal leads us to a bit of secluded beach under an overhanging corner of the fortress where we won’t be seen. There’s a tiny bit of red rock reaching out of the lava, barely enough for us all to dismount. She places several more blocks from her pockets so we’re not too crowded. My rump aches from hours or maybe days of riding my strider, but I pat Miss Twolegs on the side of her face, and she chirps sweetly.

“We all think they’re in this fortress, right?” Mal says.

Everyone nods.

“So what’s the plan?” I ask.

Mal grins that grin she reserves for strategizing. This whole trip, she’s seemed less sure of herself, maybe because there’s just so much about this place that we don’t know. But now, planning to capture this castle, she’s finally back in her element.

“I’d love to just tunnel upward, but I’m worried they’ll hear us mining. I’ve still got a bunch of redstone, so I’ll build a tower up and then bridge around to that window and peek in. If we can find an empty room, we sneak in there. Whatever these guys are doing, this place is huge, and Jarro said there couldn’t be more than six of them. Plenty of rooms will be empty.” But then she frowns grimly and looks each of us in the eyes. “These are adults, and we’re probably going to have to fight them. You have to be ready.”

Jarro looks especially worried, and Mal puts a hand on his arm. “Jarro, would you be willing to stay down here with the striders and try to catch another one? Once we’ve got Tok, we need to be able to get back to the portal ahead of these guys.”

Jarro looks immensely relieved at this possibility. “Yeah. Just give me all the warped fungus we’ve got, and I’ll make that happen. Although we’ll need another fishing rod and saddle.”

Mal looks to me. “Can you make that happen, Chug?”

I glance nervously up at the stone building overhead. “I have two more saddles, and I can make another fishing rod, but you have to wait for me. I have to go with you. I have to see Tok.”

“I’ll start the staircase, you start crafting that fungus on a stick. The faster we find him, the better.”

I know what she’s not saying. The longer we stand here doing nothing, the more likely they are to notice us, and our plan hinges on the element of surprise. If we can find Tok and whisk him away before anyone realizes we’re even here, we won’t have to fight the brigands at all. And not only do we not want to fight other people, but they’ve overpowered us once before, and they might definitely best us again. Maybe our skills and weapons are special back home, but these adults have probably been training since before we were born. We only have one chance to get Tok out, and it requires speed and stealth.

Both of which…yeah, okay, are maybe not my finest qualities.

“Get building,” I tell her, and the way she pats my shoulder tells me she knows what I’m not saying, which is, I trust you to do this because you’re my best friend, but I’m really scared.

Mal starts placing blocks in a winding, tight sort of spiral staircase, and Lenna hops up behind her, step by step, her bow and arrow drawn. I watch for a moment before realizing that the faster I make that fishing rod, the faster I can join them. I pull out my crafting table and supplies and work quietly. Jarro considers the striders, and they all look kinda sad to be off the lava. They’re slightly purplish and shivering, but they still seem pretty healthy. He murmurs to them, talking to them like Mal does when milking her cows, as he pulls various weird blocks out of his pockets and places them along the edge of the jagged shoreline to make a small paddock. He rubs their foreheads, but they’re shivering too much to chirp.

Finally, I hold out a fishing rod and saddle, and Jarro takes them.

“Be careful up there,” he says.

I grin. “Be careful down here. Pick out a good strider for my brother.”

I hold out my fist, and he bumps it. “You got it, bud.”

Taking out my sword, I start up the stairs as stealthily as I can, considering the fact that I’m me and also wearing a mishmash of metal and diamond armor. Mal has built her tower almost all the way up to the ceiling made by the bottom of the fortress and is now building a bridge out toward the wall that has the window. I take my place behind Lenna, which feels kind of weird, as usually she’s behind me. We’re definitely not going to try to switch places on this narrow little bridge. It’s not like anything can sneak up on us, anyway.

It’s a little tricky as Mal places stone blocks along the fortress wall, right up to the window. We all creep forward, and before Mal can motion me to stay down, I peek over the edge, and—

My heart nearly bursts.

There’s Tok!

He’s working at a brewing stand, and he looks…happy?

Seriously, he’s lit up like a torch, grinning ear to ear as he holds a bottle of potion.

I look closer, and now I can see that under his joy, he’s caught in the same sleepless stupor as the rest of us. His eyes are red, like he’s been crying, and there are black smudges underneath them, and one of his eyebrows is pretty much fried off, and his pajamas are scorched. Before I pop back down, I look all around the room to make sure I can describe it to Mal.

She raises her eyebrows, communicating that she’s annoyed with me but wants to know what I know. I motion to Lenna’s pockets and mime opening a book, which honestly I’m not sure any of them have ever seen me do on my own. Lenna pulls out her journal and hands me her pen, and I write, “Tok hr, mkgn poshun, 1 gard rding boook.”

Spelling and handwriting are definitely not my strong points. My muscles are my strong points.

Mal nods and pops up to look for herself. She takes the pen and writes, “Lenna, shoot the guard, Chug defend, I’ll get Tok out. Ready?”

We both nod. Lenna puts her journal back in her pocket and pulls out her bow and arrows. I wonder why she’s not using her crossbow, but then I realize that Lenna is the thoughtful kind of person who is going to use the weapon she knows she’s mastered rather than risk trying something new in a fight this important.

Mal holds up three fingers, then two, then one, and she and I stand and leap through the window. Tok looks up, and his eyes fly wide.

“Come on, Tok,” she whispers. “We have to hurry. Out the window—”

“Am I hallucinating?” Tok replies at full volume, sounding dazed.

Mal holds a finger to her lips and points at the guard, but he’s already standing up and turning to run. Lenna’s shot hits him in the back, and the big guy stumbles and shouts, “Orlok! We’re under attack!”

I run over to him and raise my sword, but…I can’t do it. I can’t bring myself to hit an unarmed man lying on his belly. Instead of appreciating my mercy, the brigand snatches his sword off the ground and swings it at me, and I have to dance back and parry his slash.

Anger rises up, my ears burn, and I fight back in earnest. I can hear Tok in the background, telling Mal that he can’t leave until he has all his things. I groan—of course my brother doesn’t want to leave his potions and ingredients behind. I saw some books on a work desk, and there’s no way he would leave without them.

“We have to go now!” Mal says. “They’re going to be here any—”

“Minute?”

The figure that steps through the door, sword drawn, is all too familiar. It’s the brigand who stole our llamas and chests at the river crossing on the way to the woodland mansion on our last adventure. He looks about the same as he did then, including his smug smile, which suggests he’s already won. Two more brigands follow him through the door, crossbows trained on Mal’s and Lenna’s chest plates.

“You kids again,” the head brigand starts.

“You stole my brother. Did you really think we were just going to sit at home and be like, Oh, well, maybe he’ll turn up in the washing?” I say.

“I could’ve killed you in your bed,” he snarls. “But I was kind enough to leave you behind.”

“Yeah, super kind! You’re the kindest thief and kidnapper I’ve ever met! Thank you so much for that!”

Mal is pleading with me to be quiet using just her eyes, but that’s never stopped me before. I’m furious, and it’s all because of this guy right here. This whole stupid adventure, traipsing through the Nether, desperate, hungry, sleepless, hurt, is all because this same dude just won’t leave us alone. It’s not like being nice to him is going to make him let us all go.

“You’re outnumbered, kid.” He smacks his sword against the top of my helmet. “Now let’s do this just like last time. I want all your gear in a nice, big pile on the floor. No funny business. No sudden moves.”

“Or else what? What are you gonna do? You’re not going to kill us.”

The sword tip rests against my throat. “Don’t tempt me.”

“What would it take to let Tok go?” Mal asks in a trembling voice. One of the other brigands has his sword against her chest plate.

“More than three kids can accomplish,” the leader admits. “Look, we’re not hurting him. He’s fed and safe. He’s just doing a little job for us.”

“It’s not a job if you don’t pay people,” Lenna says softly.

“So I’ll give him a shiny emerald!” the brigand shouts, gesturing with his hands. “Point being, he works for me now, and he’ll continue to work for me until I say he’s done. He’ll be fed, he’ll be safe, he’ll just be…elsewhere.”

“He doesn’t look safe,” Lenna shoots back. She nods at the crossbow pointed at her face. “I know I don’t feel safe. Tok, are you happy here?”

But Tok has the strangest look on his face, like a trapped animal desperate for a way out. He’s sleepless and shaky and breathing weird, and something about him just looks off. He keeps glancing at the window and then back at the brigand leader like he’s running calculations in his head.

I don’t like it.

I think he’s going to do something stupid.

Because, funnily enough, sometimes the smartest people do the stupidest things, especially when they’re put under unbelievable pressure.

“No,” Tok says in the smallest voice.

“Well, unfortunately, kid, there’s no way out,” the brigand says with a ferocious grin.

“There’s always a way,” Tok says quietly.

And then he runs to the window and jumps out.