Chapter 15: Doubts

Perspective: Kay


After I got back in from scouting out the raid site I stopped by Lucy's desk, grabbed some chalk and a washcloth and disappeared into a lesser-used storage cupboard. I followed the curve fervently with my eyes as I traced a few concentric circles in white and red. Then, I etched out the lines between the circles, creating new, smaller shapes and linking them intricate well of colour and pattern. I could see nothing, but my muscles knew the routes to our goal. The gold nuggets sent a pulse of cold through my body as I positioned them at four key intersections. Next was the moss, tumbling from between my fingers and into the centre. Finally: the jagged stone of the Nether.

I struck a match and light swept over half the stone, illuminating a little blood-red kite. The match lowered, caught the surface and then the whole upper surface was burning. Cupping this little beacon between my hands, I bent over the circle and chants came naturally to me. The words of old. The words of my people. The words of Herobrine, that He had told us to use in our hour of need. Then again, he said that before my retirement, before Jeb burned the Thaumlands, before He chose to stand by.

Nothing came of my chanting. Ten minutes slipped through my fingers as I used them to house the flame.

"He's not coming," I concluded.

"Are you sure there's no interference? You are in another world after all."

"No, he wasn't answering back home either. Worth a try but I either can't do it since Zine Craft or he's not listening."

I cleaned up the signs of the ritual. Despite the Book's protests, I gave up hope of soliciting the Blind Watcher's aid.

If I could have gotten in touch, we would have had the full force of the True Court. Literal millions of Noobians, hundreds of thousands of Divine soldiers, thousands of living Pigmen, an immense fleet of airships and the Greater Divines themselves were a considerable force in combat. That was without mentioning the hundreds of administrators who could be called upon to provide vassals. They might not be there in time for the raid tomorrow, but it would at least be a promise that the Entity would end up facing a force to rival its own.

But no. My master wouldn't hear my plea. We were alone.

I scrunched my eyes shut and begin the walk of shame to the dormitories. Laughter from the Dungeons and Enderdragons group rippled through the air, reached me and made my stomach lurch. Warnado's cackle rose above the rest, like a robin leaping from the back of an eagle and I quickened my pace, heart fighting to get out of my chest.

"If anything happens to that child…"

"You will endure," The Book scolds. It has developed a certain condescension since I lost to Fire.

I reached my bed and collapsed in. I didn't bother to take my clothes off and didn't know if I would change them the next day. The enemy wasn't going to care if I was spick and span. I compelled the Book to send me to sleep and wake me at the appropriate hour. One of the unexpected advantages of letting the Book in was peaceful sleep. My nightmares had vanished. Once a tormentor, the Dreamweaver now soothed me as I drifted off.

Part of my mind remained awake. We were in a study with walls whose colour I can't make out. There was a fireplace, but its light didn't carry quite right. I sat behind a desk. Blackboard behind me. An armchair across from me contained a human-like shape composed of swirling, fluttering pages: The Book's preferred manifestation.

I paid a little more attention and the walls settled into a nice shade of green and the light took on a more orange and warmer aspect. It was time for our scheduled meeting.

"Thank you for your help with that apology. You were right, it was better to clear the air," I began.

"You're welcome. Now, the captains?"

"The Ender, Glibby and Freak are the main possibilities. There are others, but these are the ones the Entity seems to prefer sending into the field."

I swivelled my chair around to the blackboard and saw images of the three captains in chalk, with annotations surrounding them scribbled in my own delicately chaotic hand.

"Freak is physically weakest but can choose who can see or interact with him," I remarked. "He's the worst-case scenario, in my view."

"Weakness can be exploited. If he comes near us, strike fast. I will see what I can do about making him tangible. It does not seem insurmountable."

"If Freak's nearby he won't come near us, and he'll just switch out if we use a portal. He might yell at us for taunting purposes, but he'll not risk confrontation."

"The Ender?"

"We zap her. It's not one on one this time. She will stay down."

"Glibby."

"That slow moron? He's strong and nothing more. An ambassador for a crime lord. Portalling around should be enough to bring him to heel."

"Be cautious, that crime lord will not have sent him without protection."

And so we carried on, debating stances, circumstances to expect, spells and moves to employ. I wouldn't go in charging as I had at the village, weaving between ranks and punching holes in them. At the beginning, I would go in to separate an officer from the group and disrupt the Endlings, but after that I would stay at the edges, picking them off while Fire and the others took the main body. None would escape. None of our party would die. I would not let them. Until I did.