by Tom Hoffman
Bartholomew turned to Oliver and grinned. “If we knew what was going to happen, it wouldn’t be an adventure. Wait here.” He disappeared into the rippling granite. A minute later he reappeared, stepping out from the wall. He waved his arm. “This way everyone. Welcome to Bruno Rabbit’s house of mystery!”
Chapter 11
Bruno’s House
One by one the adventurers stepped through the granite wall, emerging moments later on the other side. The view was stunning. A vast cavern had been hollowed out, forming a chamber approximately two hundred feet long and fifty feet tall. The outer wall was completely transparent, giving a breathtaking panoramic view of Pterosaur Valley and the Landorian mountain range.
Bartholomew gazed at the invisible wall of granite. “The cavern should have been visible through that window as we hovered overhead, but we didn’t see it.” He walked over to the wall, running his paw across the rough invisible surface. “It’s definitely solid granite. It appears Bruno made the side of the mountain transparent when viewed from the inside, but opaque when seen from the outside. I have no idea how he accomplished such a feat.”
They roamed through Bruno’s house, discovering a large number of side rooms connecting to the main cavern, including an elaborately furnished kitchen, a game room with a large billiards table, four bedrooms, and an extensive shaping library surpassing that of the Penrith Shapers Guild. The furnishings in the house were exquisite, more than likely all shaped by Bruno.
Oliver emerged from the kitchen with a slice of apple pie on a sparkling crystal dish. “I found this pie sitting inside an odd looking contraption in the kitchen. Bruno has been absent for over a year, yet the food stored within the device is still perfectly crisp and fresh. I will have to examine it more closely – after I finish this pie, of course.”
Bartholomew heard Clara calling to him from another room. “Bartholomew! In here, there’s something you should see.” He followed her voice to a small alcove at the far end of the cavern.
“Look at this.” Sitting in the center of the alcove was a rectangular block composed of a black glossy substance that appeared to be obsidian. The block was approximately eleven feet long, three feet wide and three feet tall. Across the top of the block were twelve key-shaped depressions, eleven of them containing gold keys. The seventh indentation was missing its key. Bartholomew kneeled down and examined the keys, being careful not to touch anything.
“Look here. Each of these gold keys has an embossed single eye on it, and clearly the keys are not all identical. Each one must fit a different lock.”
“What are they for? Do they have something to do with the Shapers Guild?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t noticed any locks around here, and there’s nothing like this at the Penrith Guild.”
Clara reached for one of the keys. “I can’t move it – it’s stuck to the block somehow, more than likely Bruno’s handiwork.”
“Edmund! Could you help us for a minute?”
Moments later Edmund appeared in the doorway. He eyed the keys curiously. “What are these for?”
“We’re not sure. Can you pick one up?”
Edmund attempted to pluck one of the keys from the obsidian block, but when he lifted his arm the block rose up also.
“How odd.” Edmund set the block of keys back down again.
Bartholomew shrugged. “Bruno does love a good puzzle. Perhaps we can only take a key when we truly need one.” He turned to leave the room, then stopped. Clara watched as he walked back to the block, reached over and picked up one of the keys.
“It’s the Eleventh Ring. Only the wearer can pick up the keys. Bruno did not want these keys stolen, but he did want me to have access to them.”
Edmund murmured, “These keys remind me of something. Perhaps if I review some of my–” He froze, his eyes glowing with a pulsing red light.
“What’s happened to him? He’s not moving.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen his eyes do that before.” Clara placed her paw on Edmund’s arm. “I still can’t read his thoughts.”
Edmund’s body twitched slightly and he began moving again. “What was I saying?”
“Edmund, are you all right?”
“Yes, I am functioning perfectly, thank you, but I have forgotten what we were discussing.”
“The keys. You were saying they seemed familiar.”
“Yes, of course, the keys. Those are World Door keys and open the twelve doors in the Hallway. No key is necessary to reach the Isle of Mandora, but the other twelve doors require a key. As you can plainly see, the Seventh Key is missing. I suppose we should look for it.”
Clara was intrigued by Edmund’s curious revelation. “Edmund, how did you know these were World Door keys?”
“I am uncertain how or when I gained that particular piece of knowledge. I suppose I read about them in the Central Information Repository and the image of the keys triggered a neuronic connection in my synaptic network. Well, I am off to help Oliver in the kitchen now. He requires my assistance in unraveling the technology behind Bruno’s mystifying pie box.”
Bartholomew’s eyes were fixed on the World Door keys. Everything Bruno Rabbit did, he did with purpose, and he most certainly had left the keys here for a reason. Bartholomew felt himself being drawn towards the missing key, sensing the universe wanted him to find it. Something was afoot, and it had to do with Edmund’s aberrant behavior and now with the missing Seventh Key. Edmund had said it himself. “I suppose we should look for it.”
When Edmund reached the kitchen he found Oliver studying a glass case containing an assortment of food, still fresh after sitting in the case for over a year.
“Ah, there’s my old friend Edmund. Take a look and tell me what you see. I have no idea how Bruno could preserve food in such a manner as this. I see no mechanical contrivances or a power supply for the box, and yet there is some force at work which prevents the food from spoiling.”
Edmund stepped over to the case. His right eye glowed brightly, a holoscreen blinking up in front of him. He flicked through a series of pages until a group of pulsating red and blue concentric circles appeared, which he aimed at the glass case. He watched patiently as the circles changed size and color, then turned to Oliver.
“You are quite correct in saying there is no external source of power to the case. The box itself is not the source of the phenomenon. There is something affecting the contents of the box, but it exists outside this physical world, outside of the space and time you are familiar with. Are you currently carrying a watch?”
“I am, and a very accurate one at that. In fact, this pocket watch was presented to me over ten years ago by the president of the–”
“Any watch will do. Please place it inside the glass case.”
Oliver removed the heavy gold watch from his vest pocket, carefully detaching it from its long gold chain. He set the watch down on a shelf inside the glass case.
“There. What are we looking for?”
“Pay close attention to your watch.”
Oliver leaned over, gazing at his pocket watch. His eyebrows raised slightly. “That’s odd. The second hand has stopped moving.” He picked it up and gently shook it. “Ahh, now it’s working again.” He placed the watch back on the glass shelf. Once again the second hand stopped moving.
“The watch stops when I place it in the box. Is there some kind of magnetic field interfering with the watch’s movement?”
“There is not. I believe time has slowed down within the glass case. I know you are familiar with the Isle of Mandora, where there is no time. This is quite different. Time still exists within the box, but it is passing at a far slower rate than it does outside the box. If you watch and wait you will see your watch is still functioning properly.”
Oliver eyed the watch for over a minute, but saw nothing.
“Nothing’s happening. I don’t think the watch is working.”
“Wait.”
Oliver gazed at
the watch for another three minutes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, a frown forming on his face. “I don’t think you are correct in your assessment of–”
With an audible tick the second hand on Oliver’s watch moved forward one notch.
“Good heavens, you were right, Edmund! This is quite astonishing. Bruno has managed to slow time to a crawl within this confined space. The food will eventually spoil, but at this rate it will take years. Do you have any idea how he did this?”
“I do not. The elders are quite capable of altering the passage of time, but not in such a manner as this. I can only assume Bruno used shaping to produce this phenomenon. If you remember, Bartholomew utilized a similar skill to defeat Zoran.”
“You’re right, I had forgotten about that.” Oliver put the watch back in his vest pocket. “Perhaps it’s best that knowledge such as this remains a mystery. I’m afraid to think what some rabbits might do with the ability to alter time.”
Chapter 12
Edmund’s Creation
Oliver, Edmund, Bartholomew and Clara were sitting comfortably in the Adventurer II as it hovered high above Pterosaur Valley. Oliver was passing a large wooden bowl of salad across the table to Clara. “Oh, drat, I forgot to bring the tin of molasses cookies I baked in Bruno Rabbit’s marvelous kitchen. Or more correctly, I should have said your marvelous kitchen, Bartholomew, since the house now belongs to you. Did Edmund tell you about the astonishing glass case that preserves food by slowing the passage of time?”
“He did indeed. Even in his absence Bruno Rabbit still continues to amaze me. I would like to see him again one day, but with time passing so quickly in Mandora that doesn’t seem very likely.” He smiled at Oliver. “You forgot the cookies? You also once again forgot about my shaping abilities.” With a blink of yellow light a colorful rectangular tin appeared in front of Oliver.
“Oh dear, it’s still quite startling to see objects appear out of thin air.” He quickly opened the tin, however, revealing several dozen freshly baked molasses cookies. He inhaled deeply and said, “Ahhh.... I might forget your shaping abilities, but the smell of freshly baked molasses cookies is something I will never forget.”
After everyone had finished lunch, Clara said her good-byes. “Finding Bruno’s house was a marvelous adventure, but it’s time for me to blink. My four new initiates are quite anxious to begin their first quest as members of the Penrith Shapers Guild. Bartholomew, enjoy your visit with the Tree of Eyes and give it my best regards – I have such fond memories of the Tree from when I was a bunny.”
Clara leaned forward and put her arms around Bartholomew. A blue thought cloud floated out of her ear and was drawn into him. Bartholomew heard Clara’s voice in his mind. “I am quite certain something will happen soon after I leave – something which will prevent you from returning home for several months at least. Our voice within has told me this. There will be unimaginable obstacles, but the result will be a great and wonderful change. I know you will remain safe if you listen to your secret voice and do what you know to be right. My thoughts will be with you, as always.”
A thought cloud emerged from Bartholomew’s ear and Clara quickly drew it to her. “I have sensed this also. Whatever is happening to Edmund will take a sharp turn. I wish you were going with us, but apparently the universe has other plans for you. I love you always.”
Clara gave Oliver a hug, then put her arms around Edmund. “Have a safe trip, my dear Edmund.”
Edmund put his long silver arms around Clara. “Thank you, Clara. I am quite indestructible, so there really is no need to worry about my safety. I’m certain our visit with the Tree of Eyes will be most enjoyable. Oliver has told me much about the Tree, including the story of how it was created by Bruno Rabbit.”
Clara smiled gently. “I know you’re indestructible, Edmund. It’s just my way of saying I care for you.” She turned and waved to Bartholomew, then vanished in a flash of light.
Oliver stood up, gazing southward. “Shall we head the ship towards the Tree of Eyes? It shouldn’t take long to get there – several hours at the most.”
“That sounds like a fine plan to me, Oliver.”
Oliver called out to Edmund, “Let’s take her up to a thousand feet. South southeast at thirty miles per hour.”
Edmund nodded, taking his seat at the console. “Bartholomew, I am now at liberty to tell you why I was unable to answer Clara’s question.”
“What question was that, Edmund?”
“When she asked me if I had talked to my inner voice that night in the meadow, I told her I could not discuss it.”
“Oh.” A sudden chill ran through Bartholomew.
“That night I did speak with what I believe to be my inner voice. It sounded familiar, but I was unable to clearly identify the speaker. It told me I must find the missing Seventh Key, and made me promise not to discuss it with anyone until we were on our way to the Tree of Eyes.”
“How could it have known about the Seventh Key before we did, or know we would be visiting the Tree of Eyes?”
“I do not know. Perhaps my voice within has access to information existing outside of space and time, as does your inner voice.”
“Mmm... perhaps. Did it tell you where to find the missing key?”
“I believe at one point it did, but I have forgotten what it told me to do or where I am supposed to go. There was a complex task I was supposed to perform, but again I have no recollection of what the task was, which is unusual for me. I feel as though lately I have not been my normal–” Edmund abruptly stood up, his eyes filled with unspeakable fear. He pointed to the back of the ship, his long silver finger shaking. “GET THEM OFF! GET THEM OFF THE SHIP! OLIVER! GET THEM OFF!”
Bartholomew could see nothing at the stern of the ship. “Edmund, what is it? What do you see?”
Edmund’s voice was low and raspy. “I see ants. There are ants on the ship.”
Oliver stepped quickly to the stern of the ship, spotting four small ants walking along the railing. One by one he let them walk on his paw and tossed them over the side. “They’re gone Edmund. They can’t hurt you. Ants are far too small to hurt you.”
Edmund’s face was still twisted with fear. “They’re so strong... they can lift one hundred times their weight. Their mandibles can...” Edmund closed his eyes, unable to continue.
Bartholomew looked at Edmund with grave concern. “It’s all right Edmund. The ants are gone, and I will make certain no more board the ship. I will use a defensive shaping skill to prevent them from climbing into the ship.” Bartholomew was confounded – where was Edmund’s irrational fear of ants coming from, and what did it mean?
Moments later Edmund was acting as though nothing had happened. “Thank you. I shall be perfectly fine as long as I don’t see any more... any more... of those small insects we were just discussing.” He stepped back to the console and sat down. “South southeast at one thousand feet. Velocity set to thirty miles per hour.”
Bartholomew watched as Edmund deftly manipulated the green levers, sending the ship towards the Tree of Eyes. Bartholomew sank down into one of the padded cabin chairs, calling upon his secret voice within. “Cavern, Edmund’s condition is increasing in severity. Can you tell me anything more? Why does he need to find the Seventh Key?”
“Bartholomew, all transformations are chaotic events, but within this chaos a deeper order may be found, just as you found order within your bouncing marbles. You realized that each careening marble was obeying precisely the laws of physical motion, and you were witnessing perfection, not chaos. The same principal applies to the events of your life. You see wild chaotic events, but hidden beneath them lies order. Just as there is perfection in the wildly bouncing marbles, there is perfection in each and every moment of your life.”
“Hmm... that sounds as though it should be reassuring, but I still don’t like not knowing what is going to happen.”
“Didn’t you once say, ‘If we knew what was going to
happen it wouldn’t be an adventure’?”
“If I may have everyone’s attention for a moment, I remember now what I am supposed to do.” Edmund pushed away from the console and rose to his feet, turning towards Bartholomew.
The chill in Bartholomew’s body was now intense. “What do you mean, Edmund?”
“I remember now what my voice within told me to do. I have no choice but to obey it, for as you said, our inner voice speaks absolute truth.”
Edmund extended his long silver arms, cupping his hands together to form a bowl. He stood motionless, his red eyes flickering brightly. Bartholomew watched as a diaphanous wavering sphere the size of an orange formed above Edmund’s cupped hands. The sphere began to grow more substantial, changing to a translucent blue green color, pale clouds swirling about inside it.
Bartholomew’s insides turned to ice. This was most certainly what Clara had warned him about. “Edmund, you need to stop and tell us what you’re doing.”
The sphere grew larger, tiny blue sparks shooting out from its periphery. It rose up from Edmund’s hands and was now hovering above the ship.
“Edmund, what is that? What did you make?”
“I am not precisely certain how I am doing it, but I believe I am creating something called a spectral doorway.”
“A spectral doorway? What is that? Where does it go?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know.”
“Edmund, you have to stop this right now!”
“That’s quite impossible. I have no idea how to undo what I have done.”
Bartholomew and Oliver rushed to the stern of the craft. Edmund’s creation was expanding with increasing speed and was now enveloping the Adventurer II. Ghostly gray clouds within the sphere swirled wildly while miniature bolts of lightning created scenes of ethereal dancing light and shadow. In one fractional instant the sphere exploded with a monstrous blast, the concussion rattling the ship and leaving only a world of madly churning clouds and brilliant thunderous flashes of light. The wind howled and shrieked like an unchained demon, tossing the Adventurer II violently about, threatening to flip her over at any instant.