Cry of the Ocelot Read online

  This book is not authorized or sponsored by Microsoft Corp., Mojang AB, Notch Development AB or Scholastic Inc., or any other person or entity owning or controlling rights in the Minecraft name, trademark, or copyrights.

  THE UNOFFICIAL ANIMAL WARRIORS OF THE OVERWORLD SERIES: THE CRY OF THE OCELOT.

  Copyright © 2019 by Hollan Publishing, Inc.

  Minecraft® is a registered trademark of Notch Development AB. The Minecraft game is copyright © Mojang AB.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

  Special thanks to Erin L. Falligant.

  Cover illustration by Amanda Brack

  Cover design by Brian Peterson

  Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-5107-4134-8

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-5107-4139-3

  Printed in the United States of America

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  CHAPTER 1

  Clink, clink, clink!

  Ella slid her helmet from the anvil and held it out in front of her. Sure enough, the helmet cast off a faint purple glow. “Enchanted with Respiration,” she whispered.

  At her feet, her wolf-dog, Taiga, whined.

  “I know, buddy,” said Ella, reaching down to stroke his silver-gray fur. “Breathing underwater scares me too. But we might need this someday. Someday soon.”

  Days were growing shorter. Nights were growing longer. More hostile mobs were spawning across the Overworld. And Gran had told Ella and her cousins that they needed to be ready—ready to fight.

  Ella shivered, remembering the zombie pigmen she had fought to save her wolf only a few weeks ago. She had named him Taiga because that was where she’d found him, all alone in the cold biome.

  That was where he led me, she remembered, by howling to her across the plains. He had chosen her. He had called to her. And she had listened.

  Just like my mom, thought Ella, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She’d barely known her mother. She’d been killed in the Uprising, when the day and night cycle stopped and hostile mobs spawned uncontrollably across the Overworld. But Gran said Ella’s mother had been a “wolf-whisperer,” too.

  Ella squatted beside Taiga, gazing into his golden eyes. “I’ll never let anything happen to you,” she said, kissing his snout. “I’ll protect you. I promise.”

  He whined and gave her chin a lick, as if to say, I’ll protect you too. And she knew he would.

  As Ella stood, she tucked her hair behind her ear and reached for another weapon. She and her cousin Rowan had lugged a box of swords, bows, and armor all the way from Gran’s mansion down to the garden shed, where Ella could enchant them with an anvil. But as she poked through the pieces, she wondered, Can I really use these? Will I have the courage?

  She blew a cobweb off an old bow before placing it in the anvil. Then she reached into her box of enchanted books. “Flame, Infinity, Power, Punch,” she murmured as she sorted the books. “She finally settled on “Infinity.” But before she could slide the book into the anvil, something shot through the window and whizzed by her head.

  She hit the floor of the shed, her heart pounding. Beside her, Taiga growled and sprang to his feet.

  Ella held her breath, trying not to make a sound. What was that? A skeleton arrow? She crawled ever so slowly to a crack in the wall of the shed. As she peered through the crack, she saw boots. Jogging toward the shed. Fast.

  Ella recognized those boots.

  “Rowan!”

  She jumped up just as her older cousin burst through the door, her red ponytail swinging side to side.

  “Sorry!” called Rowan. “So sorry! Did I hit you?”

  Ella ran a hand over her head, as if checking for a bump or wound. “No! But you sure came close. Was that an arrow?”

  “No, a trident,” Rowan said. “Gran and I were just testing it out.” She crossed the shed and reached for something stuck in the wall. It looked like a spear with three prongs—three very sharp prongs.

  “Yikes,” said Ella under her breath. “You need to work on your aim. You could do some damage with that!”

  “I know,” said Rowan. “Especially if you enchant it with something. Will you?”

  Ella sighed. “I’m kind of busy here,” she said. But as she gestured toward the boxes of books and weapons behind her, a shadow fell across the floor.

  “What time is it?” she asked Rowan, checking the sky through the window.

  Rowan’s face darkened. “Early,” she said. “Too early. It’s not even five o’clock, and the sun is starting to sink.”

  The two cousins locked eyes. Gran was right, thought Ella. The day-night cycle was shifting, ever so slowly—a sign of another Uprising to come.

  She swallowed hard. “Give me that,” she said, gesturing toward the trident. “I’ll find an enchantment for it.”

  Rowan nodded and handed over the trident, which was much heavier than Ella had expected. No wonder Rowan was having trouble throwing it! And those prongs were so sharp. Ella set it down carefully on top of her pile of weapons.

  The she fingered through her enchanted books. “Hmm …” she thought out loud. “Which enchantments work with tridents?”

  “I don’t know,” said Rowan as she squatted to give Taiga a head scratch. “That’s your department.”

  Ella’s chest puffed with pride, just a little. She had become a master of enchantments. Even Gran said so. But Ella had never enchanted a trident. “We’ll have to ask Gran,” she said with a sigh.

  While Rowan went to fetch Gran, Ella stepped to the door to watch her go. Shadows fell across the courtyard. They spilled over Gran’s garden, filled with spindly sugar cane and wheat, and melons and pumpkins on winding vines. The shadows crept up the obsidian wall that protected the mansion from the world outside. And as Ella watched, the shadows reached out toward the fishing pond, as if nudging her cousin Jack on the shoulder to say, “Time to put that fishing pole away.”

  Fishing was all Jack ever did anymore. With his enchanted fishing pole and a pond that Gran kept stocked with fish, he caught fish after fish after fish. He’s going to drain the pond! thought Ella, blowing out a breath of frustration.

  Couldn’t her younger cousin see that there were more important things to do around here? Things to prepare for?

  As she strode out of the shed to tell him so, Taiga leaped up to follow.

  “Jack!” Ella had to call twice before his head finally spun around.

  “What?” As he pulled the red hood of his sweatshirt off his head, a tuft of dark hair sprang up.

  �
�Why don’t you do something useful?” she asked. “You should be learning how to use a bow—or a trident, like Rowan.”

  He shook his head. “I’m fishing.” As if to make his point, his line suddenly went taut. He yanked it back, and a yellow pufferfish leaped out of the water.

  Ella was surprised to see Jack unhook the fish from his line and cast it back into the water.

  “I thought you used pufferfish for your potions,” she said.

  He shrugged. “I’m hoping for a salmon.”

  Ella scoffed. “There aren’t any in there! Gran stocked the pond with pufferfish,” she said.

  Jack set his jaw. “There are some salmon in here too,” he said. “Gran said so.”

  Ella’s toe started tapping—she couldn’t help it. “We don’t need salmon,” she said. “Gran’s already making dinner. Why don’t you help me by feeding Taiga or something?”

  Taiga barked his approval and nudged Jack’s arm. But Jack didn’t even glance up. “I told you—I’m fishing.”

  Poor Taiga whined and sat on his rump. He’d been trying to win Jack over for the last couple of weeks, but Jack would barely say hello to the dog.

  Why? Ella wondered, as she had so many times since she’d tamed her wolf-dog. Is he jealous?

  Jack couldn’t communicate with wolves, the way Ella could. And he couldn’t communicate with horses, the way Rowan and Gran could. When Gran had told the cousins about the special gifts they’d inherited from their parents and from her, Jack had felt left out—Ella could tell.

  But he was a genius at brewing potions, like his mother had been! She was a scientist who had traveled all over the Overworld, collecting potion ingredients. And Gran had given Jack his mother’s old journals, filled with potion brewing “recipes” inside.

  Jack should be down in the basement right now, brewing up a storm. So why did he seem so down?

  Maybe because he thinks he’ll never have his own animal friend, Ella thought sadly as she pulled Taiga into her arms.

  The back door of the mansion suddenly opened with a bang, and Rowan came flying down the steps. “Gran’s coming!” she called.

  Ella stood up and tried one more time. “Jack,” she said, “come help me enchant the trident, will you? Gran and I will teach you how.”

  This time, he didn’t even respond.

  “Fine,” she snapped, turning on her heel. “Suit yourself.”

  But as the beacon overhead flickered on, lighting up the courtyard, Ella thought of the hostile mobs that were probably spawning outside those obsidian walls right now.

  And she worried about Jack, as she always did. Gran had taught her to look out for him.

  If Jack doesn’t learn how to use weapons, Ella thought, how will he survive the Uprising? How will Rowan and I protect him?

  She fought the wave of panic rising in her chest, and hurried toward the garden shed.

  CHAPTER 2

  Gran adjusted the glasses on her nose and slid her finger down the tiny print in her enchantment book.

  “Loyalty or Riptide,” she said as she snapped the book shut. “Those are the only two enchantments that will work with a trident.”

  Ella’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t have those,” she said. “I have everything else, but I don’t have those.”

  “Are you sure?” Gran turned toward the box of enchanted books on the floor of the shed.

  “I’m sure,” said Ella. She knew the books in that box like the back of her hand—the way Gran knew every square inch of her garden.

  Gran sighed. “Well, then, I guess we’re going to have to get lots of practice with the trident. If you’re skilled enough at fighting with it, we won’t need an enchantment.”

  As Gran reached for the weapon, Ella marveled again at how much her grandmother had changed over the last few weeks. She had once spent her days cooking in the kitchen, singing to her jukebox. Now she was teaching them to fight with dangerous weapons. Her long silver hair, which had once flowed down over her cyan-colored robes, was bound in a tight braid. And those robes? They’d been replaced by sturdy pants and boots.

  With the trident in her hands, Gran looked ready to fight. Like a warrior. Like Rowan, Ella suddenly realized.

  But Gran didn’t hand the trident to Rowan.

  “It’s Ella’s turn,” she said with an encouraging smile, suddenly looking like the old Gran again.

  Ella took the weapon, holding it awkwardly in her hands. “Do I use it like a sword?” she asked.

  Gran nodded. “You can,” she said. “Or throw it like a spear.”

  Ella caught Rowan’s eye and grimaced, remembering how Rowan’s “spear” had come right through the garden shed window. She shook her head. “I’m better with a sword,” she said.

  She stepped out of the garden shed into the courtyard, where she had more room. As she gently swung the trident from side to side, she flashed back on the zombie pigmen that she had fought off with her sword in the Taiga. Just the thought made her heart thud in her ears.

  But I had an enchanted sword then, she remembered. Enchanted with Flame. And still, she’d barely survived—barely managed to save her wolf, and herself. So how will I fight with a heavy trident, she wondered. A trident with no enchantments at all?

  When Rowan finally reached for the trident, Ella gladly handed it over. “I think I’ll stick with my sword,” she said.

  But a wave of worry crossed Gran’s face. “Ella, you’ll need to know how to use lots of weapons,” she said sternly. “Don’t quit so soon.”

  Ella turned away, feeling shame creep up her cheeks. When she saw Jack, still fishing, she pointed. “What about him?” she asked. “Doesn’t he need to practice too?”

  Gran reached for Ella’s hand. “Shh,” she said. “Leave Jack be for now. We’ll prepare him, too, in time.”

  But as the clock tower bonged overhead, Ella jumped. It was only six o’clock, and already, a blanket of darkness had fallen over the Overworld.

  In time? Ella wanted to say. We’re running out of time!

  Like thunderclouds approaching the plains, the Uprising was coming—Ella could feel it. And there was no stopping it now.

  * * *

  Before crawling into bed, Ella pulled her long, brunette hair into a ponytail. Then she settled back against her pillow and patted the side of her mattress.

  Instantly, Taiga sprang onto the bed. He spun in a tight circle before settling in, nestled against Ella’s side.

  “Good boy,” she said, resting her hand on his head.

  Only a month ago, she’d laid in this very bed, listening to Taiga howling to her from so far away. Howling for help.

  But now the Overworld fell silent. She held her breath, listening for anything—the whine of another wolf. The hiss of a creeper. The moan of a zombie.

  They were out there right now, she knew. But I’m safe inside the walls of Gran’s mansion, Ella reminded herself. At least for now.

  She tried to sleep, shaking off her worries from the day the way Taiga shook off water after a swim in the fishpond. And slowly, she felt herself drift to her peaceful place. She floated above the earth, as if she’d just drank one of Jack’s potions of Leaping.

  Then something jolted her awake.

  Ella sat up straight, her body shaking.

  She listened, waiting. And then she heard it again!

  A low growl came from the corner of her room. Then a scratching against the wooden door.

  Taiga!

  He’d heard something, and he was ready to fight.

  * * *

  “Taiga, shh!” Ella cried, sliding out of bed and racing across the floor.

  As she knelt beside him, she felt the ridge of fur spring up along his back. Taiga was frightened, or maybe angry. But why?

  She listened for him to tell her. She squeezed her eyes shut. But he only pawed at the door as if to say, “Let’s go. Now!”

  So she opened the door.

  Taiga flew down the hall toward Jack’s room.
Ella followed, wondering if she should grab a weapon or a book or anything hard she could use to defend herself.

  Then she realized Taiga was leading her into Jack’s room. Was Jack okay?

  Ella raced through the doorway just behind Taiga, quickly flipping on the redstone switch.

  The torch lit up the room, which was empty. Jack’s bed was perfectly made, as if he’d not been in it. As if he hadn’t gone to bed at all.

  “Jack!” Ella called softly. She checked his closet, and then the hall behind her. Where was he?

  “Show me, Taiga,” she said. “Show me where Jack went!”

  The wolf-dog whined and trotted down the hall. Around one corner, and then another. Down the set of stairs toward the kitchen. And toward the basement door.

  There, Ella hesitated. Jack’s brewing stand was in the basement, and that’s probably exactly where he was right now. At least he’d better be, she thought, crossing her fingers. But the basement was the last place Ella wanted to go in the middle of the night.

  She pictured the cobwebs, the mossy steps, the silverfish that lived in the cracks and crevices of the stone stairwell.

  But Taiga whined at the door, urging her on.

  “Aw, Jack,” Ella sighed, pushing open the door. “You’d better have a good reason for being down there.”

  She was glad to see the torch burning brightly, lighting her way. But as she took her first step down, the stone beneath her foot felt ice-cold. And a draft sent a wave of goosebumps across her skin.

  She pushed through a cobweb and hurried downward, ready to get this hunt for Jack over with and get back to bed.

  “He probably lost track of time,” she told herself, speaking out loud so that she wouldn’t feel so alone. Her voice echoed off the cobblestone walls of the circular staircase.

  When she reached the bottom, Taiga had already pushed his way through the door into the brewing room.

  Ella fumbled to find the redstone switch, hoping to see Jack’s head bowed over his brewing stand.

  But once again, the room was empty.

  Taiga padded around, sniffing at the ground. Ella hurried after him. “Jack?” she called. And then louder. “Jack, where are you?”