The Thirteenth Monk (Bartholomew the Adventurer Trilogy Book 2)

by Tom Hoffman

  “What have you done??” Bartholomew’s cry went unheard, drowned out by Edmund’s terrifying creation.

  Chapter 13

  Song

  As the Adventurer II twisted and bucked in the ferocious screaming winds of Edmund’s nightmarish vortex, several events occurred in rapid succession. The duplonium powered Mark VII Vacuumators all ceased functioning simultaneously, rendering the ship powerless. What was once a miracle of engineering became a thirty foot long projectile. A monstrous fist of wind caught the ship and flipped it over, throwing Edmund out into the clouds. Oliver and Bartholomew were hurled beneath a deck table. And lastly, the Adventurer II began plummeting towards the ground, soon reaching a velocity of precisely one hundred and twenty miles per hour.

  Edmund cupped his hands to his mouth and called out,“Oliver, no need to fret! We’ll be able to repair the Adventurer II with a little help from the A9 engineering Rabbitons!”

  Bartholomew and Oliver popped up from beneath the table top. The ship had flipped upright again, and they spotted Edmund about thirty feet away from the craft, the speed of his descent matching theirs.

  Edmund hollered, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’m completely indestructible!”

  “Okay, Edmund!” Bartholomew gave Edmund a halfhearted thumbs up. “Oliver, take my paw and I’ll blink us down to the ground. You’ve done it before – it will be just like when Morthram blinked us out of Oberon’s ferillium mine.”

  Oliver nodded blankly, unable to speak. Bartholomew grabbed his paw and with a flash of light they both vanished.

  Edmund, who was impervious to shaping, placed his hands across the top of his head. He was taking no chances when it came to his cherished adventurer’s hat.

  “I’ve never fallen this far before. It’s rather enjoyable. Quite relaxing.”

  Three minutes passed and Edmund was still falling.

  “Odd, at this velocity I should have reached the ground by now. We were at an altitude of one thousand feet when I opened the doorway, so it’s only logical to assume we arrived in this new world at a far greater altitude than that. Odd. It’s also rather perplexing why all the duplonium engines should simultaneously cease functioning. Quite an intriguing puzzle.” Edmund glanced over at the Adventurer II. “I wonder...” His right eye turned bright blue and a thermo sensor beam shot over to the falling craft, landing directly on the outer shell of a duplonium engine. “Ah, just as I suspected, the engine is cold. That could only mean the duplonium is no longer reacting with the water, which in turn must mean the laws of physics in this world vary slightly from those of our world. Obviously, basic laws such as gravity still apply here, otherwise I wouldn’t be–”

  Edmund’s thought was cut short as he plowed into the ground at precisely one hundred and twenty miles per hour.

  * * *

  Bartholomew and Oliver were sitting on top of an enormous sand dune. The roiling clouds of Edmund’s doorway had dissipated, replaced with a clear blue sky and a baking hot desert sun. Oliver was holding out one of his shoes and shaking it. “Drat, all this sand is a dreadful nuisance. If there’s one thing I have no time for, it’s sand in my shoes.”

  Bartholomew shook his head. There were times when Oliver’s thought processes boggled his mind. “Oliver, we’re not on Earth anymore. We’re in a different world now. I have no idea why Edmund brought us here, and I have no idea how we’re going to get back home, or even if we’re going to get back home. Perhaps we should think about that rather than worrying about sand in our shoes.”

  “An excellent sentiment, Bartholomew, but I am quite adamant about this. I will not tolerate sand in my shoes in this world or any other.”

  There was a tremendous “WHOOOMP!” and a massive cloud of sand and dust exploded forty feet away from them. A split second later there was a “FABOOOOMFF!” and another colossal cloud of sand billowed out past the first one.

  “Great heavens, what was that??”

  “I believe those two sounds have heralded the arrival of our friend Edmund and the Adventurer II.” Bartholomew rose to his feet and slogged through the sand to the location of the first sand cloud, spotting a crater twelve feet long and four feet wide. With some apprehension he peered into it – apprehension which vanished the moment he saw Edmund sitting at the bottom adjusting his adventurer’s hat.

  “Ah, Bartholomew, there you are. I believe I know why the Adventurer II failed in such a spectacular fashion. Duplonium does not react with water in this world. I think we can therefore assume the laws of physics here differ slightly from those of our world.”

  “Are you all right? That was... a rather nasty fall you just had.”

  “I am quite fine, I assure you. As I have told you and Clara many times before, I am completely indestructible.” Edmund rose to his feet and leaped out of the crater with a single bound, taking a quick survey of his surroundings. “It appears we have landed in a desert. Interesting. I’ve never seen a desert before. Do you think there will be ants here?”

  “Edmund, what did you do? Why did you bring us here?”

  “I merely followed the instructions given to me by my inner voice, which opened a doorway to this world. Beyond that I know as much as you do. How is Oliver?”

  “He’s upset because he has sand in his shoes.”

  “Edmund, you’re all right!” Oliver hobbled across the sand, one shoe still in his paw.

  “I am fine, thank you for your –” Edmund was interrupted by the screeching sound of twisting metal coming from the neighboring sand dune. Their heads spun around to see the front half of the Adventurer II protruding into the air, being shaken like a bunny’s rattle. Their jaws dropped in unison.

  “Great heavens, what is that? Something monstrous has grabbed our ship!”

  “Something monstrous and very, very large has grabbed our ship.”

  Seconds later there was a terrible squealing of rending metal and the Adventurer II was yanked violently down into the sand dune, leaving nothing behind but a puffy cloud of dust. When the cloud dissipated the ship was gone. They all stared at the dune in stunned silence. Until they heard the voice behind them.

  “You probably shouldn’t be here. I would head for the jungle if I were you.”

  Their heads whipped around once again to see a four foot tall mouse wearing a dark red robe with a floppy hood and sleeves. Bartholomew blinked twice, but managed to say, “Who are you?”

  The mouse responded by singing a short but exquisite melody.

  The mouse’s answer left Bartholomew more confused than before. “What was that?”

  “That is my name. I am a Red Monk of Musinora. Our native language is one of tones, not of words. I have seen Rabbitons before. This one will carry me on its shoulders as I guide you out of the desert. Without my assistance you will perish.”

  “What should we call you? I’m afraid I lack the skill to sing your name properly.”

  The mouse studied Bartholomew’s face. “Hold out your paws.” Bartholomew extended both arms. “Turn them over.” The mouse gazed at Bartholomew’s Guild ring. “Hmmp. You may call me whatever name you are comfortable with.”

  “How about we call you Song, since that is how we would describe your name in our world?”

  “Very well. You may carry me now, Rabbiton.” Edmund gently picked up Song and set him on his shoulders. “I am Edmund, and I am pleased to meet you, Song.”

  “You are a Rabbiton and you have a name and wear a hat.”

  “Yes, thank you for noticing. This is my adventurer’s hat, a cherished gift from my dear friends Bartholomew and Clara.”

  “You are a Rabbiton who wears a hat and has dear friends. Hmmp. Turn left and walk twenty-four feet, then stop. Walk slowly, do not create excessive vibrations.”

  “What was that monstrous thing that pulled our ship into the sand?”

  “We do not honor them with a name. We name only those things which we hold in esteem.”

  “Have you ever seen one come
out of the sand?”

  “Turn right and walk one hundred and ten feet, then stop.”

  “How do you know where it is safe to walk?”

  “This is not the time for talk. Later is the time for talk.”

  Bartholomew and Oliver silently followed behind Edmund and Song, slowly traversing the blazing hot sand dunes. Finally, Bartholomew broke the silence. “Would anyone care for a cool glass of water?” With a small flash of light three glasses of water appeared in front of him. He gave one glass to Oliver and held one up for Song, who accepted the glass without comment. If he had seen Bartholomew shape the water he made no mention of it. They marched on through the scorching desert towards an unknown destination and an unknown fate.

  Chapter 14

  The Island of Blue Monks

  The desert seemed to go on forever. It took two full days of walking just to escape the dunes occupied by the creatures Song refused to honor with a name. The temperature dropped sharply at night and Bartholomew shaped what supplies they needed to survive the extreme environment. Song watched without expression as Bartholomew fabricated a tent, blankets, food, water and a blazing campfire. Perhaps shaping was a common practice in Song’s world.

  Edmund spent the chilly nights on guard duty outside the tent. He was not affected by the cold and he didn’t require sleep. It was Edmund who discovered the new world had two moons, and the days were nineteen hours long. He didn’t mind his time alone, and he especially liked watching the two moons as they floated across the starry night sky.

  As the adventurers trekked across the desert the sand dunes gradually decreased in size until eventually the desert floor was hard and flat, with small amounts of scattered vegetation. With the deadly dunes behind them, they were able to make much better time crossing the desert.

  “Look ahead, you will see the jungle.” It was the morning of their sixth day in the desert, and Song was standing on Edmund’s shoulders pointing into the distance. Bartholomew squinted his eyes, barely making out a thin dark line of trees. By the next afternoon they had reached the edge of the jungle.

  “It is not far now. Only a half day walk to my village. You may rest there as long as you wish.” They spent that night camping on the edge of the jungle, the next morning leaving the burning desert behind them.

  Song was perched on Edmund’s shoulders, guiding him through the dense overgrowth. Oliver was making it abundantly clear he was not very enthusiastic about the new jungle environment. “What was that? It sounded like something screeching. I daresay I have no interest in meeting whatever made that dreadful noise. Song, do you know what it was? I saw some tracks back there which looked rather large, but I couldn’t tell if the creature who left them had claws. Are there many predators here? What about pterosaurs? Have you ever seen any pterosaurs flying about this area?”

  “No pterosaurs here. Perhaps they were all eaten by far greater terrible creatures with no names.”

  “Good heavens, is this true? Bartholomew, is he joking?”

  Edmund predictably chimed in with, “Are there any ants in the jungle?”

  Bartholomew held his breath waiting for Song’s answer.

  “There are no ants in the jungle.”

  Edmund looked pleasantly surprised. “I like the jungle.”

  “That way.” Song pointed to a barely visible trail snaking through the lush foliage.

  Edmund pushed his way past the dense vines and leaves, emerging in front of an enormous blue green lake. In the center of the lake was a massive rocky island covered with several hundred stone and wooden buildings of all shapes and sizes.

  Song hopped down from Edmund’s shoulders and walked to the edge of the lake. He began to hum a lovely little tune. Bartholomew had never heard anything like it. It wasn’t loud, but it had an eerie intensity to it.

  “The boat will arrive shortly.”

  Sure enough, a few minutes later Edmund spied a long graceful wooden boat heading their way, propelled by four mice pulling long wooden oars. The boat scraped up onto the shore and the four red robed mice nodded mutely to Song.

  Song motioned for Bartholomew to enter the craft. Edmund was the last to climb aboard. There was notable concern on the faces of the four mice, but they said nothing.

  Using their oars they pushed the boat off from the shore. Though low in the water due to Edmund’s massive size and weight, the boat appeared to be in no danger of capsizing. Song pointed to the island and the four mice began rowing in unison. One of them began to sing a bouncy little tune, the other three joining in. Their voices filled Bartholomew with a sense of profound joy in a way that no other song ever had. He found himself wishing they would never stop singing. Fifteen minutes later they arrived at a long wooden dock.

  “Welcome to the Island of Blue Monks.” Song helped them out of the boat, then led the way up a long rocky path and across a series of wooden walkways and through the narrow stone streets. They wound their way past dozens of weathered wooden buildings, many of them quite dilapidated. Song stopped when they reached a square two story wooden structure with a bright blue door. Embedded in the center of the door was a small metallic object which appeared to be made from hammered brass. Bartholomew looked at it closely. It was a single eye, the same symbol found on Bartholomew’s Eleventh Ring. He did not ask Song about the eye.

  “Welcome to my home, the Nirriimian Singers Guild. You are welcome to stay here as honored guests of the Guild.”

  Song swung the door open and was met by two smiling mice wearing robes identical to Song’s.

  “Welcome home, Master. I am pleased to see you have brought company. We will prepare rooms immediately for our three guests.” The mice seemed quite cheerful, and could not take their eyes off Edmund.

  “That will be fine. You may also prepare a lunch for all but the Rabbiton named Edmund, who wears a hat and has dear friends. He has no need of food or sleep.”

  After a warm bath and some newly shaped clean clothes, Oliver and Bartholomew felt quite renewed. Oliver appeared to be growing more comfortable with life in this strange new world.

  “You know, this building reminds me somewhat of the Ferillium Inn. It’s warm and cozy, with a pleasant, comfortable atmosphere. I do hope we can hear those four mice sing again. It was quite lovely. I can’t remember when I have enjoyed a tune so much. I hope they don’t kidnap us and put us to work in another dreadful ferillium mine, however.” He laughed loudly at his own joke.

  “Oliver, did you see the symbol on the front door?”

  “Indeed I did. Do you suppose this is a Shapers Guild like the one in Penrith?”

  “Song said it was the Nirriimian Singers Guild, but I don’t know what that means. I would like to know who the Blue Monks are and why this island is named after them. I’d also like to know why the universe brought us here and how we’re going to get home again.”

  Oliver nodded somberly, then brightened. “I will ask Song if there are any pastry shops on the island.”

  A soft knocking on the door interrupted their conversation. “Please excuse me, but Master Song, as he is called by you, requests your company at the dinner table. He has instructed me to tell you now is the time for talking.”

  Chapter 15

  Welcome to Nirriim

  “It’s not very often we get a visit from two rabbits and a Rabbiton. May I ask what brought you to Nirriim?”

  “Nirriim is the name of your world?”

  “Yes. Our Region is called Musinora.”

  “I’m embarrassed to say our visit here was quite unplanned. Edmund created a spectral doorway without knowing exactly what he was doing and our flying carriage fell into your world.”

  Edmund interrupted Bartholomew. “What I did not know was why I was doing it. My inner voice told me to create the doorway, but I had no idea where it would take us.”

  Song tilted his head slightly. “Your inner voice told you?”

  “Yes, it told me to create the doorway.”

  Song took a
sip from a small wooden cup. “It was the presence of your spectral doorway which drew me to the desert. We thought it might be the Anarkkians returning. It is how their ships entered our world during the wars. I was quite relieved to see it was you and not them.”

  “The Anarkkians? The Elders defeated them in the Great War that ended the Age of Darkness.”

  “They were never defeated – they left our world of their own free will, but we never learned why. The Great War raged in many worlds, including ours. Those were dark times.”

  Edmund’s face was grim. “I’m glad those days are gone. The Elders have changed since then and have no interest in wars, the A6 Warrior Rabbitons are a distant memory.”

  “Even today stories are still told of the frightful A6 Warrior Rabbitons. You have no idea why your inner voice sent you here?”

  “No. But it might have something to do with ants.”

  Song looked curiously at Edmund. “You said ants?”

  “I seem to have acquired a rather severe and irrational fear of them.”

  “I will give this much thought. For now, let us enjoy our dinner. Bartholomew, you seem to be a gifted shaper. How long have you been practicing your art?”

  “Not very long, I’m afraid. Is shaping a common practice in your world?”

  “It is not unheard of, and seems to be gaining some popularity. There are more common arts here which yield similar results. Whatever the art may be called, its goal is always the same – the manipulation of energy fields. Just as there is more than one way to throw a stone, there is more than one way to alter an energy field.”

  “May I ask why this is called the Island of Blue Monks?”

  Song smiled. “The simple answer is this is where the Blue Monks live.”

  “Who are the Blue Monks?”