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

Just a few hours ago, I would’ve sworn there was no situation involving Chug, Jarro, and an axe that could end well, but here we are. Tok made that axe, and Chug carried it in his pocket to sell to potential customers, and now he’s giving it to his worst enemy.

“It’s dangerous out here,” Chug says. “Take this.”

Jarro holds the axe like he knows what to do with it, at least; I guess he splits logs for his mom. I remember the first time Chug held a sword, when none of us knew what it was and thought it was just a really long knife. It’s probably better to start Jarro off with something familiar. An axe can definitely put a hurt on a hostile mob.

I was worried they were going to bicker and shove each other all the way to—wherever we’re going. But if Chug trusts Jarro enough to put the axe in his hands instead of in his back, then maybe miracles do happen. Maybe they can get along.

Lenna and I exchange a surprised glance. She’s smiling a smile that reminds me a bit of Nan, a satisfied, smug sort of smile that suggests she knew everything would be just fine. Then again, Lenna often looks to Poppy to decide how to react to something new, and if Poppy will let Jarro not only pet her head but also rub her belly, then the wolf must really see our former enemy as more of a friend.

Jarro takes the axe with a nod, stiffly says thanks, and puts it in his pocket using our trick. He’s trying to cover up how upset he was, telling that story, and that’s totally okay. I want to keep things this way, with Chug feeling benevolent and Jarro feeling anything but cruel. I need to get them moving, so I spot the next place in the grass up ahead where there is another iron ingot and hurry toward it. The boys will feel better rushing toward a goal than they will standing here being awkward with each other.

Chug collects the ingot, and we continue in the direction of the hoofprints. As we follow the trail, I start to notice something I can’t ignore:

This is nearly the same path we took on our last adventure.

The beacon outside the village, while still far away, seems to be the way the llama prints are pointing us. I briefly wonder if it was the villagers there who took Tok—

But no. All they can say is, “Hm,” and Jarro said he heard people arguing. Plus, the villagers just want to live their lives and trade for emeralds. In our time in the village, I never saw a single one of them holding a weapon. They’re peaceful, whatever they are.

So the question remains: Who kidnapped Tok and Jarro and stole all of Dawna’s sweet berry bushes and Elder Gabe’s potions and ingredients? And where are they going?

They could be going to the village to trade, but I can’t imagine those villagers trading their wares for two kids and some berries and potions. They’re wild for emeralds and happy enough to accept wheat, but no one would go to the trouble of stealing from Cornucopia for such small stakes. It’s the sort of thing our neighbor Krog would do, except that he’s still locked up in the town jail for all the trouble he caused, and I stop by once a week just to confirm with my own eyes that he’s still there. Krog is the one who started our last adventure by sending evokers and their vexes to destroy the town’s crops and drive all our families away. He wanted full, selfish access to the fortress under the town and all the resources he would need to build a Nether portal, whatever that is. He wanted obscure potion ingredients, so it would make sense if he was stealing Elder Gabe’s potions.

Except he can’t, because he’s in jail.

And then again, Elder Gabe’s shop only carries simple potions, not what Krog was after. He needed strange ingredients from the Nether, which is apparently another place. Not a biome or village or town—but something else altogether. Nan told us once that her only regret in life is not journeying to the Nether and seeing if it was real, and if so, what creatures and riches could be found there.

When we stopped Krog from destroying our town, the Elders dismantled the Nether portal he was building under the Hub. It took them forever, but they were determined to keep us safe, per the town commandments. They even sealed up the entrance to the fortress down there, with its long tunnel and the rails that lead all the way to the woodland mansion we cleared while trying to beat Krog and his illagers. So whoever we’re following right now knew that our town had potions and berries, and they took Jarro so he couldn’t raise the alarm, but why would they take Tok? He’s just a kid like any of us—

Except he isn’t, is he?

Tok is incredibly skilled with his crafting table. He’s invented things even Elder Stu can’t re-create, things our eldest Elder has never even thought about. And now Tok’s been openly attempting to add potions and explosives to his skill set. Maybe that’s why they stole him right out of his bed.

Because they need his particular set of skills.

So they found out about him, and they made a plan, and they took him.

But do they want him to make weapons and armors or potions and explosives?

It doesn’t really matter. In the hands of the wrong sort of people, they’re all tools of war.

I speed up. I’m worried about Tok, but now I’m worried about what these people will make Tok do. And I’m not ready to tell Chug about my hypothesis yet. He feels bad enough as it is. If he starts thinking about the kidnappers forcing his brother to craft things that could hurt innocent people or pigs, he’ll get even more upset.

What’s more, I’m beginning to suspect we’re following the kidnappers right back to that same woodland mansion, which would be the perfect hideout for bad people up to no good. Remote, big, full of resources, and the sort of place that’s usually full of scary, murderous illagers. It’s going to take us several days to get there, at best. The kidnappers have half a day on us at least, and we’ll have to stop before dusk each day to dig out a shelter—unless we can manage to find the ones we created along the way and used last time.

I glance back at Jarro, who’s lagging behind. The rest of us might be a little out of shape for life outside the wall, but he’s never been out here before at all. He’s not even a farm kid. His mom’s sweet berry plot is right in the middle of town, a rare patch of green that she defends tooth and nail. He’s probably never even walked a mile in his entire life. He’s only going to slow us down.

I’m about to ask Chug if he’ll let Jarro ride Thingy, but I don’t bother.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

Maybe he’ll give Jarro an axe, but there’s no way he would trust him with his pig.

“Can we slow down?” Jarro calls.

“Not until we find Tok,” Chug bellows.

I look up at the sky. It’s afternoon. Soon I’ll have to make a shelter, because no matter what the people we’re following do, we know full well we can’t survive the night unprotected. There are simply too many hostile mobs, and we still need to finish healing from the skeleton horsemen. Lenna is still limping a little, and I’m pretty sure I saw her shoving her broken bow into her pocket. We’re not at our best.

I look up ahead, but we’re still so far from the beacon. We can’t make the village tonight. We’ll have to stop and rest soon, no matter how upset it makes Chug. I mark a little copse of trees, just a smudge of darker green on the horizon. If we stop there, maybe Lenna can fix her bow, and we can begin to teach Jarro how to help us survive out here. Whether we like him or not, whether we trust him or not, his axe might be what keeps us alive when the mobs strike. Which they will.

We’re silent as I follow the llama prints and my friends follow me. The copse of trees isn’t too far off our trail, so I dig through my pocket until I find a block of stone from the mine and drop it by the nearest prints.

“What are you doing?” Chug asks.

“Marking our trail.” I point at the trees. “I need time to dig a shelter, and Lenna needs to fix her bow. Maybe you can teach Jarro how to fight while we work.”

Chug looks at the sun, which is thinking about starting to set. “We can go a little farther.”

I shake my head. “Maybe we could walk another half hour, but we need Lenna’s bow, and we need Jarro to have some idea of what to do if a mob shows up. And shelters always take more time than we’d prefer. After what happened earlier today, we’re not taking any chances.”

“But every moment we spend stopped, Tok is that much farther away—”

“They have to stop, too. Whoever took him, they’re not any different from us. They require rest, they require sleep, they have to get somewhere safe once the sun sets and the mobs come out. They don’t even know they’re being followed. It feels like a race to us, but for them, it’s not.”

Chug’s face screws up. He hates it when our opinions differ and he knows I’m right.

“Okay, but I’m not training him. I’m going to go find something to eat. We may have cookies, but we don’t have meat, and that’ll help Lenna heal faster.”

I give him a grateful smile. He might be scared and annoyed, but his first instinct is still to take care of us.

Jarro and Lenna catch up once we’re under the trees. They’re oaks, and their shade is welcome. I’ve already dug up a few blocks.

“Lenna, can you fix your bow?” I ask.

She picks up a stick. “I could if I had a crafting table.”

We all dig through our pockets, but all we come up with are frowns.

“Tok always has one,” Chug says sadly.

“But they’re pretty easy to make, right?” I ask.

Lenna looks up into the oak as if wishing it would just drop a crafting table from its branches. “I always use Nan’s.”

“You guys know how to use a crafting table?” Jarro asks, shocked.

Chug shrugs. I know my buddy, and I know that look on his face—he doesn’t feel like he’s good enough for what he needs to do, but he’s too stubborn and proud to let anyone else know that. “It’s not that hard. Tok’s really good at it, but he tried to teach me a few things.” He touches the tree Lenna is looking at. “If you can chop up some planks, I can try to put a crafting table together. It won’t be as nice as Nan’s and Tok’s,” he says quickly. “But we really need to get Lenna’s bow working again.” He gives Jarro a dark glare. “Things get dangerous at night.” When Jarro blanches, Chug grins.

I nod, trusting my friends to do their parts as I twirl my diamond pickaxe and get back to digging. It feels good, hacking into a fresh patch of rock, knowing no one has ever dug here before. Maybe I’ll find nothing but boring ol’ stone, but there’s always the possibility of something exciting, a vein of ore or even diamonds or emeralds. I’ve found some treasures in my little mine back home, out behind the cow pasture, but there’s just something extra thrilling about the endless possibilities of digging a hole out here in the middle of nowhere.

Jarro’s axe thuds into the tree, and Lenna hums to herself as she writes in her book. Chug heads off into the plains, looking for sheep or chickens, something we can turn into dinner. I find some iron and coal, nothing unexpected, but at least we’ll be able to make some torches instead of spending the night in the pitch darkness underground.

Time passes. Jarro’s axe stops, and I hear Lenna droning on, hopefully teaching him useful things about life in the Overworld. Sometimes she can get very lost in her own train of thought, pursuing her more obscure interests instead of focusing on what’s important. She knows so much fascinating lore now, but Jarro knowing the right things could be the difference between our survival and someone getting seriously hurt. Chug returns with four chickens, starts a campfire to cook them, and sorts through the wood Jarro chopped for the right sort of planks to make a crafting table. I manage to dig my usual chamber, then add a few extra blocks’ worth of space, reckoning that while we’re all fine being cozy with Tok, now that Jarro’s along for the ride, everyone will be more comfortable if we’re not smushed up against our least favorite person in the world.

As I’m evening out the sides of the shelter, I hear someone outside scream bloody murder. Diamond pickaxe in hand, I scramble out of the hole and search for my friends.

Chug and Lenna are nowhere to be found. Neither are Poppy and Thingy.

All I see is Jarro, frozen in place, hands thrown in front of his face as a creeper runs right at him and starts flashing.