The Eleventh Ring (Bartholomew the Adventurer Trilogy Book 1)

by Tom Hoffman

  Morthram looked at the exterior of the cylindrical room he had just exited, realizing its function was probably the same as the elevators he’d seen in a few of the larger Lapinoric cities. It was simply a device to transport rabbits between different levels.

  He walked across the platform to the glass cars. It reminded him of the train station in Penrith. The technology was completely different of course, and this station was ten times larger, but the basic concept of transporting rabbits from one point to another was the same. He looked around the station and spotted some large colorful signs with pictures of extremely tall rabbits engaged in various activities. These reminded him of the advertising posters found in any Lapinoric train station. This station must have been abandoned eons ago, but the two glass cylinder cars floating silently above the silver tracks looked brand new. He had no idea how that was possible.

  He approached one of the cars, and with a whirring noise its door slid open. He instinctively jumped back. He didn’t like machines that did things by themselves. When nothing more happened, he stepped into the car. The seats were enormous. He climbed onto one. Whoever rode in the cars must have been very tall, which would explain the pictures of tall rabbits on the platform. He slid down from the seat and walked to the front of the car. There was a single wide seat with a curved panel of blinking buttons in front of it. He thought about pushing one to see what would happen, but then imagined the car shooting forward at some unimaginable speed and smashing into another car.

  As he turned to leave, he saw the door to a square structure in the middle of the platform slide open. Two extremely tall silver metallic rabbits emerged and looked in his direction. One of them waved to him, motioning for him to exit the car.

  Morthram panicked, hitting every button he could find on the front panel. The car shot forward, pushing him back against the seat. He watched the two silver rabbits flash by, waving their arms for Morthram to stop.

  About three minutes later the car began to slow down as it approached another platform. A voice from above his head startled Morthram and a protective sphere shot up around him. He quickly realized the voice was coming from a series of round gray discs lining the train car ceiling. Now he had seen everything – a talking train car. The language had a strong resemblance to Lapinoric, and was at first difficult to understand, but it didn’t take him long to get used to the odd pronunciation. The car’s voice was welcoming him to the new station. As the car came to a halt, Morthram crouched down so he wouldn’t be seen, but was able to peer out at the platform.

  The doors slid open and the voice gave permission for rabbits to exit the car. Morthram noticed some movement farther down the platform. A tall silver rabbit was sweeping the platform with a broom, but he was sweeping the same spot over and over, his motions oddly repetitive and jerky, like a broken wind-up toy. Morthram realized then the silver rabbits were machines, not living creatures. This was incredible. He thought about leaving the car to examine the sweeping rabbit, but the car doors abruptly closed and the car shot forward.

  This time the trip lasted longer. The car flew past at least a half dozen stations. He saw silver rabbits on four of the platforms. At one station a group of six or eight of them were all talking to each other. If they had been covered with fur he would never have guessed they were machines. He had seen many strange things in his life as a shaper, but this was by far the most memorable.

  Morthram looked out the front window when he felt the car begin to slow down. They had reached the end of the tunnel. Directly ahead was a huge wall covered with gigantic moving images of rabbits. They appeared to be engaged in some kind of unfamiliar sport, and the wall’s purpose was unclear to him. Every so often groups of symbols would appear, but they were indecipherable. The car came to a halt next to the platform, the doors slid open, and the voice spoke again. He thought he heard the word ‘fortress’. Morthram cautiously peered out the door, ever watchful for the silver rabbits, but he saw none. He wanted to put some distance between himself and this silent wall of moving rabbits. He kept imagining what would happen if the giant creatures jumped off the wall and began chasing him.

  He exited the car, stepping quickly over to the station wall to avoid detection. Dozens of colorful panels lined the wall, and one began speaking to him as he approached it. It became clear the machine was asking him if he was hungry. He replied he was not, but it continued speaking, describing to him various kinds of tasty foods he could purchase at a particular shop. When he turned and walked away, the panel was still talking.

  He spotted a stairway about a hundred feet down the platform and made his way towards it. It took quite an effort to climb the stairs, as they were almost twice the height of stairs he was used to. By the time he reached the top, his legs were burning and he was out of breath. He wondered absently if any of the rabbits who had lived here were still alive. He had seen the silver rabbit machines but not a sign of their creators.

  The stairs had led him up to another hallway which stretched out for at least a half mile. There was a row of blinking lights in the distance and he strode down the hallway towards them. Along the way he passed a great number of doors. He opened a few and peeked in, seeing nothing of great interest. They looked like offices, filled with oversized chairs and desks and many unrecognizable electrical devices, some still with glowing lights on them. When he reached the distant row of lights he recognized them for what they were – a bank of the round vertical elevator cars like the one in the silver mine. These ones looked functional, however. He walked from one to the other, looking for any clue as to where they might go.

  “Have you lost your mummy?”

  Morthram’s insides turned to ice. He had never been so startled in his life. The voice was coming from behind him and above him. For the first time in his life he was simply too scared to move.

  “No need to be frightened, little friend. I am here to help you. Do you remember where you last saw your mummy or daddy?”

  Morthram finally gained control of his body and slowly turned around. A ten foot tall silver rabbit was looking down at him with a very concerned face.

  “I... uh... I haven’t lost my mummy. I come from a faraway land where everyone is the same size I am. I am lost though.” Morthram tried his best to look helpless.

  “Ah, I see. I would be happy to assist you. Where are you trying to go?”

  “I may have gotten off at the wrong platform. What is this place called?”

  “This is the Fortress of Elders. It has not been a true Fortress for over five thousand years of course, but it still bears the original name.”

  “That’s it! I have been trying to reach the Fortress. What an incredible stroke of luck. Can you tell me where these elevator cars go?”

  “These are gravitators. Unfortunately, only two of them are functional at this time, and I’m rather concerned over their general state of disrepair. I reported the malfunctions at least five hundred and eleven years ago, but the A4 Rabbitons still have not arrived to make the necessary repairs. I would have mentioned it to one of the Elders, but none have ridden the gravitators for well over fourteen hundred years. I’m afraid I have no idea where they are.”

  “The Elders are the rabbits who live here?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You haven’t seen one in over fourteen hundred years?”

  “I have not, but I expect they shall return presently, so I continue on with my duties as an R9 Informational Rabbiton, giving needed assistance to visitors and citizens alike. To answer your question, this gravitator goes to the Central Information Repository, and that one to the main entrance hall of the Fortress.”

  Morthram thought quickly. The repository sounded like a safer place to go. There probably wouldn’t be many Grymmorians there, if any. “The repository is where I had planned to meet my friend. That will be perfect.”

  “Very good, sir. I wish you a pleasant day and do enjoy your visit to the Fortress of Elders.” He reached out and pushed a
disc next to the gravitator. The door slid open and the Rabbiton motioned for Morthram to enter. Once Morthram was inside, the Rabbiton touched a second disc and the door closed. The car rose up the shaft for several seconds then came to a gentle stop. The door opened noiselessly and Morthram stepped out to find himself in the largest library he had ever seen. This underground city was truly a world of wonders. He looked down the length of the room and saw a silver Rabbiton talking to someone sitting in an oversized stuffed chair. Morthram quickly stepped behind a towering row of book shelves, then quietly padded down the aisle until he could hear their conversation.

  “These are delightful. Do you happen to know how the filling is prepared?”

  Morthram laughed out loud, recognizing the voice. He shifted back to his true form and stepped out from behind the book racks.

  “Oliver T. Rabbit, I presume?”

  “Ah, Morthram. Have you defeated Oberon and freed Clara?”

  Like Bartholomew, Morthram sometimes found Oliver’s thought process to be more than baffling. “Not yet, I’m afraid. I just arrived here after a long and eventful trip.”

  The Rabbiton spoke up. “Would you care for something to eat? Our food synthesizers are fully functional and capable of preparing whatever you might like. Following Oliver’s instructions, I have synthesized this tray of éclairs which he has told me are to his liking.”

  “A large salad would be wonderful, with fresh carrots.”

  “I believe I know just what you are referring to. I will return shortly with your salad.”

  Morthram turned to Oliver. “Have you heard anything from Bartholomew? I have no idea when or where he had planned to arrive.”

  “I haven’t seen him. Zoran disguised himself as a scientist and discovered my plan to sabotage the machine. He put me in a cell, but I escaped through an ancient hidden doorway, and eventually found my way here. I did discover some rather ghastly weapons capable of vaporizing matter, but I had no idea what to do with them.”

  “There is no end to the miracles found in this Fortress. Guild law prevents me from using such weapons against living creatures, but we could certainly use one to vaporize Oberon’s machine. He probably has protective spheres surrounding it to deter shaping attacks, but it might not be able to stop one of those guns. We’ll bring one or two with us.”

  “I saw no defensive spheres around the machine when I was there, but perhaps he will shape them once the machine is operational.”

  The Rabbiton returned shortly with a bowl of salad large enough to feed twenty rabbits. “Being unfamiliar with your eating habits, I was not certain how large to make the salad. I hope this will suffice.”

  “Yes, most certainly, that will do nicely. Thank you...” Morthram stopped. “I’m afraid I don’t know your name. What are you called?”

  “Called?”

  “Yes, your name. What name should I call you?”

  “I don’t have a name, sir. I am a Model 9000 Rabbiton with the optional A7-Series 3 Repositorian Module.”

  “Oh my, I can’t call you that every time I see you. Why don’t you choose a short name and that’s what we will call you?”

  The Rabbiton looked surprised but also extremely pleased.

  “Oh my, a name. I admit I have thought about this on occasion, but...”

  Morthram thought the Rabbiton might burst into tears. How curious.

  “I have read every book in this repository many times, and there are some volumes which gave me uniquely indescribable thoughts. I have wondered if these thoughts might be what the Elders referred to as feelings. One of my favorite books chronicles the life of a famous Elder explorer name Edmund. He traveled through this world and many others, returning with untold treasures and amazing stories from wondrous places. I have a faint memory of meeting Edmund the Elder soon after my creation, but that was a rather confusing time for me and my memories are quite vague. I would like to be called Edmund.”

  “Edmund it is then. Edmund, I thank you for the delicious salad you brought to me.”

  Edmund stood staring at Morthram, his red eyes pulsing strangely. He turned away for a moment, then looked back again. “Please excuse me, I was experiencing a small sensory malfunction, but I am fine now. You are quite welcome for the salad. If there is anything else you need, don’t hesitate to ask for Edmund.”

  Chapter 27

  The Fly

  Ravens were a common sight along the Fandor Mountains, so no one paid any attention to the one circling high above the Lost Fortress. It swooped and glided, as ravens do, eventually finding itself several hundred feet over the massive structure. The raven pulled in its wings and dove down towards the Fortress keep. When it was about fifty feet away from the outer walls it exploded in a ball of fire. The raven had hit an invisible protective dome surrounding the Fortress.

  “Drat. I was afraid of that.” Bartholomew peered out from behind a boulder almost a half mile away. He had shaped an illusory raven to test for any defensive spheres Zoran might have in place. His plans to formshift into a raven and enter the Fortress from above had literally gone up in flames. Next, he shaped a large blue thought cloud and sent it sailing towards the invisible dome. When it hit the protective wall, the cloud simply vanished. “Now I know I can’t blink myself into the Fortress. If I try to pass through the barrier as a thought cloud, I will also meet an untimely end. I must find another way to enter the Fortress.”

  Later that day, a large black carriage pulled by four white horses came to a halt at the end of the stone bridge leading to the Fortress gatehouse. A Fortress door opened and a Grymmorian guard emerged. He crossed the bridge, stopping at a glass pedestal. Removing a translucent orange sphere from his pocket, he placed it gently into a concave indentation on the top of the pedestal. He stooped down and picked up a small pebble, then tossed it out in front of him. When nothing happened, he stepped off the drawbridge and walked to the carriage. He was quite familiar with this particular carriage and with its passenger, but only this morning Zoran had warned the guards under penalty of death to make absolutely certain anyone who entered the Fortress was who they said they were. He circled the carriage slowly, poking and prodding, looking for anything suspicious. Finding nothing amiss, he spoke first with the driver, then with the passenger. Both showed him papers, and the passenger held up a six sided silver medallion for him to see. The guard asked the passenger a number of questions which he successfully answered. Finally the guard motioned for the carriage to cross the bridge. One of the massive Fortress doors opened with a low groaning noise and the carriage rolled in through the gate. The guard put the orange sphere back in his pocket, backing carefully away from the invisible dome. He entered the Fortress and the doors closed behind him. Bartholomew had made it safely inside the Fortress.

  The driver climbed down from the carriage and opened the door for the passenger, one of Oberon’s most senior advisors. The passenger stepped down and walked off with the guard. The driver went to the back of the carriage and opened its leather trunk, removing four feedbags for the horses. He then walked to the front of the carriage and strapped a bag on each horse, all the while swatting at the buzzing flies which seemed to be a permanent fixture around the horses. One of the flies shot out in a wide arc and flew off after Oberon’s senior advisor.

  At first it was confusing to be a fly, with six legs and a pair of wings, but Bartholomew was finally getting used to it. He’d practiced flying until he felt comfortable in his ability to mimic the insect’s behavior, and could buzz around easily in all directions. He didn’t have to think much about moving his wings, as most of it was quite instinctive.

  He buzzed along near the ceiling, far above the guard and Oberon’s advisor as they walked together down the long hallway. After making their way down to the first sub-level corridor, the guard opened a door, motioning for the advisor to enter.

  “King Oberon and Zoran will be with you shortly, sir.”

  The advisor’s only response was a grunt. Bartholo
mew darted into the room before the guard closed the door. Once inside, he found a safe hiding spot on top of a bookshelf where he sat, waiting for the meeting to begin. He may have struck pay dirt. If Oberon and Zoran were going to be here this could be a very informative meeting. He was not disappointed.

  Zoran was next to enter the room, followed shortly by King Oberon. Oberon turned to the guard. “We are not to be disturbed under any circumstances.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” The guard nodded, closing the door behind him.

  Zoran held out his paw and a blue beam shot out, enveloping the advisor with a pale blue cloud. The advisor waited patiently until the blue cloud had faded away.

  “Yes, Zoran, it’s really me. I am not a formshifting rabbit who’s come here to pinch your nose.”

  “Lucky for you you’re not one.” Zoran and the advisor were not on the best of terms.

  If flies had eyebrows, Bartholomew would have raised them in surprise. Zoran had a method of detecting formshifters. He hoped Morthram hadn’t tried to enter the Fortress as a Grymmorian.

  The three Grymmorians took seats at a long ornate wooden table. Oberon sat at the head of the table, looking darkly at his advisor. “What have you learned about the ferillium mine?”

  “I’m afraid nothing very helpful, Your Highness. It was definitely the work of the Shapers Guild. No one was harmed, a sure sign the Guild was behind it. The tunnel and the mine were shaped full of a solid granite which is highly resistant to drilling or shaping. The mine will never open again. Mr. Ferillium and the innkeeper have vanished, and no one seems to know where they went. The good news is we already had enough ferillium to create the crystal, and it should be ready to place in the device within a day or two. It has been more difficult than we expected to carve the necessary spherical shape due to its absorption properties. We almost lost several of our scientists in the process.”

  Oberon nodded. “We were going to shut the mine down anyway in a few months, so they simply saved us the trouble of disposing of several thousand rabbits. I’d still like to know how the Guild learned of the mine, and why they felt it was worth the risk to close it. They have no idea what we’re using the ferillium for.”