The Thirteenth Monk (Bartholomew the Adventurer Trilogy Book 2)

by Tom Hoffman

  Edmund thought of the Blue Spectre. “This must be what he meant. This is where I walk of my own free will into the fires of life.” Edmund leaped high into the air, landing with a resounding thud, just as he had done when he tried to attract the giant ants. This time, however, he was not driven by blind anger and fear and revenge, but by love. He had no special desire to kill the Wyrme of Deth, but he would do whatever it took to protect his friends. If somehow the Wyrme bested him, it would be all right. He had died once before and survived it well enough.

  At first he couldn’t tell if the ground was trembling or if his legs were. He didn’t feel exceptionally anxious, so he reasoned it must be the ground. He was right. The tremors grew strong enough that Edmund could see the grains of sand around him shifting slightly. Then came the deep rumbling noise, so low that it was something he felt more than heard. Then the earth opened up with a stupendous shattering roar and a blinding golden light. He was tossed about like a moth in a tornado, vaguely aware of metal scraping against metal, his arms and legs flailing wildly as they smashed into the sharp and tearing insides of the gargantuan beast. Then there was silence. Edmund the Rabbiton had been swallowed by the Wyrme of Deth.

  Inside the Wyrme it was pitch black, the heavy darkness reminding Edmund of the Void. He was disoriented, but after a brief assessment realized he had suffered no damage. When he tried to stand up, however, he found he could not. In fact, he was unable to move his legs, which was worrisome. He flicked on his ear lights, illuminating the inside of the Wyrme.

  “Great heavens, this is most astonishing! I wish Oliver could see this.” Much to his surprise, Edmund had discovered that the Wyrme of Deth was not a living creature, but was a machine, a monstrously large vehicle of unknown purpose. The interior of the Wyrme was made of a pale blue alloy unfamiliar to Edmund. The reason for his current state of immobility was now quite clear. When he had been pulled into the Wyrme, he was sucked into a massively powerful destructive device filled with row upon row of piston driven crusher blocks and vicious whirling blades. Fortunately for Edmund he was indestructible and his legs had jammed the deadly device. No matter how hard he pulled, however, he could not free himself. He lay back for a moment, hanging upside down while studying the interior of the Wyrme.

  “Where is it?” He spotted the vape gun lying on the floor six feet away from him. By rotating his torso and stretching out with one arm he was able to pinch the strap between two fingers and pull the gun to him. Twisting upwards, he aimed the vape gun at the section of the machine gripping his legs and pressed the green tab. The gun hummed and a six inch hole appeared in the blades. He fired five more times, falling to the floor after the final shot. He was free. The machine screeched back to life, filling the craft with the sound of pounding crusher blocks and whirling blades. Edmund spied the machine’s control panel on the opposite wall and a single vape shot permanently silenced the monstrous device.

  The Wyrme was on the move again and Edmund struggled to maintain his balance as it swept along beneath the sand. He snaked his way through the immobilized crusher machine towards the stern of the craft. “What is this machine? The engineering is quite extraordinary, but I am unclear as to what function the Wyrme serves. It’s certainly not for transportation purposes, not with those deadly shredding blades.”

  As he moved further back into the ship he was startled by a shatteringly loud noise and spun around to locate the source of the sound. He saw the wide aperture in the bow closing. A huge chunk of what appeared to be copper ore was smashed up against the front of the now lifeless shredding machine.

  Edmund had solved the mystery. “It’s a mining vehicle! A self-contained autonomous mining vehicle. This is amazing.” He was fascinated by the mechanics of it. “Why does the piece of ore enter the machine but the sand does not? And how can the machine move at such great speeds through the dense sand? When I observed it leaping out of the desert I saw no obvious means of propulsion, and for a craft that moves so quickly it’s extremely quiet.”

  Edmund made his way to the stern of the ship to confirm his suspicions that the craft would be filled with all manner of pulverized ore.

  He found the walls and floor of the craft were not smooth, but were covered with long stiff fibrous hairs. When he dropped a handful of crushed ore on them the hairs moved in concert, carrying the rock to the rear of the craft. “Ah, this is how the craft conveys the ore. Fascinating.”

  He studied the various types of ore for several minutes, then turned back towards the bow. If he found the main control panel for the ship it might be possible for him to drive the Wyrme back to their camp. By now Bartholomew would have discovered his absence and might be out searching for him.

  Snaking his way through the banks of shredder blades and crusher blocks, Bartholomew returned to the front of the craft. He examined the machinery and various panels, finally spotting a metal ladder on the starboard bow wall near the ore intake aperture. The ladder led to a small control room at the top of the Wyrme. In the room were two oversized metal chairs bolted to the deck in front of a wide curved panel covered with colored tabs, gauges, slider controls, and two silver control sticks. Edmund pulled one stick back but the ship did not respond. “Hmm, I will need to switch the craft over from autonomous to manual control.”

  Through trial and error, Edmund learned how to control the Wyrme. When he pulled back on one stick the ship rose up, and when he pushed the stick forward it went down. The second control stick turned the craft left and right. Basic operation of the Wyrme turned out to be surprisingly simple, similar in many ways to flying a blinker. He still had no idea why the sand didn’t come in through the aperture at the front of the craft.

  When Edmund took the Wyrme up to the surface, a wide metal panel above the control board slid down, revealing a row of five portholes, each about two feet in diameter. The Nirriimian moons were still in the sky, now just above the horizon.

  Edmund flicked on his translucent screen, swiping through pages until he found the Nirriimian maps he needed, quickly locating the four telltale blinking orange dots. The dots were Bartholomew, Oliver, Lightning, and Thunder. They were almost forty miles away at the edge of the desert.

  Edmund adjusted his adventurer’s hat and swung the Wyrme around, aiming it towards the four dots. He flipped open one of the portholes, letting the cool fresh air rush in. He knew Edmund the Explorer would have been proud of him for what he’d just done, maybe even slapped him on the back and said, “Not bad for a Rabbiton, A2!”

  Chapter 37

  Worm Guts

  “Where is Edmund? What are we going to do?” Lightning was terribly upset, and Thunder looked close to tears. Edmund was the first real hero they had ever had.

  Bartholomew did his best to sound optimistic. “We’ll find him. His tracks lead out into the desert for a few hundred yards, then stop. It’s very likely he survived his confrontation with the Wyrme of Deth. Don’t forget Edmund is indestructible.”

  Lightning nodded. “Nothing can hurt Edmund. But suppose the Wyrme ate him? How could he escape from the inside of a giant worm?” Lightning gave Thunder a horrified look. “What will he do if he’s stuck inside a monster worm like that? Maybe he’ll cut his way out! Wait – he took the vape gun, so maybe he’ll blast a hole in the worm’s guts and climb out!”

  “Ewww... he’ll be all covered with slimy worm guts. Suppose he gets back and tries to hug us and he’s all covered in worm guts? Would you still hug him?”

  Lightning hesitated. “Well, of course I’d hug him. But probably really carefully so I wouldn’t get the worm guts on me.”

  “Well, suppose he’s totally covered with mounds of slimy wet worm guts and he wants to give you a huge bear hug. Would you–”

  “STOP TALKING ABOUT WORM GUTS, PLEASE!” Oliver had heard enough. “Good heavens, we need to find Edmund, not have a discussion regarding the nature of worm entrails. Bartholomew, what about the Traveling Eye? Can you locate him using that?”

&n
bsp; “Probably, though there is a rather archaic shaping skill which creates a trail of vapor leading to–”

  “What’s that light?” Lightning jumped behind Bartholomew, pointing into the desert at a tiny bobbing golden light in the distance.

  Bartholomew shook his head. “I can’t tell, but it’s heading this way, whatever it is.”

  Bartholomew heard Cavern’s voice in his head. “I think you’re going to like this part.”

  “What do you mean, I’m going to like this part?”

  Lightning looked up at Bartholomew. “Were you talking to me?”

  Thunder was now hiding behind Lightning. “Who is he talking to?”

  “I’m not talking to anyone, I was just thinking out loud.” Bartholomew heard the Cavern of Silence laugh, and without thinking replied, “What are you laughing about?”

  Thunder whispered to Lighting. “Nobody is laughing. Is Bartholomew going crazy?”

  Oliver hollered out, “It’s getting closer! The light is stupendously bright!”

  The four adventurers scurried back from the edge of the desert until they were halfway up the hill. The brilliant light was careening across the desert sands directly towards them.

  Thunder hollered, “I can see it! It’s gigantic! I think it’s the Wyrme of Deth!”

  Lightning shrieked, “Bartholomew, is it going to get us??”

  Bartholomew flicked his wrist and a defensive sphere popped up around them. “We’re safe inside the sphere. I think.”

  The Wyrme of Deth began to slow down. They could see clearly now how incredibly massive the beast was.

  “It’s slowing down! What’s it doing?”

  Oliver answered, “I don’t know. Is that light coming from its eyes? How is that possible?”

  Finally the Wyrme came to a grinding halt at the edge of the desert. The piercing golden beams of light from its eyes blinked off. There was absolute silence.

  Lightning tapped Bartholomew on the shoulder and whispered. “What should we do?”

  “Just wait, and we’ll see what happens. We’re safe inside the sphere.”

  With a soft whirring noise two immense semicircular doors at the front of the Worm of Deth slid apart, revealing a figure silhouetted in the opening.

  “Who is that?”

  The figure picked up a gleaming cylindrical object and slung it over his shoulder.

  “WHO WANTS A BIG BOWL OF WORM STEW FOR DINNER???”

  Thunder and Lightning screeched wildly, dashing out from behind Bartholomew and tearing down the hill towards Edmund.

  “EDMUND! You’re back!! You did it!! YOU DID IT!!”

  Thunder screeched to a halt. “Wait, is he covered with worm guts?”

  Lightning gave an incredulous look. “It’s not a real worm, worms don’t have sliding doors on the front of them. Everyone knows that.”

  “Well, it could be like a crunchy worm shell on the outside and then all squishy worm guts on the inside.”

  “If it had a shell it wouldn’t be a worm. Worms don’t have shells!”

  Oliver and Bartholomew swept past Thunder and Lightning, who were still arguing about worm guts.

  Edmund threw his arms around Oliver and Bartholomew. “It was a machine all along! And quite an amazing one. It’s an autonomous mining vehicle, though I’m still unclear how it propels itself through the sand.”

  Oliver broke away from Edmund. “Autonomous? How does it gather the ore? You have no idea what moves it?”

  “I’ll show you the controls and perhaps you can figure it out. I was able to switch off the autonomous function and learned how to control it manually.”

  “This is quite remarkable, Edmund. How did you ever gain entrance to this behemoth?”

  Oliver and Edmund disappeared inside the Wyrme of Deth, leaving Bartholomew standing alone on the sand. Behind him, Thunder and Lightning were still arguing over whether Edmund would be covered with gooshy worm guts.

  Bartholomew plunked himself down on the sand and eyed the massive Wyrme of Deth. A monstrous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He would live another day. “Clara is not going to believe this. I’m not even sure I believe it. The Wyrme of Deth has been defeated.” With a flick of his wrist, a glass of white wine appeared in his paw. Moments later the glass was empty and Bartholomew was more relaxed than he’d been a few minutes earlier.

  Edmund showed Oliver the control room and the inner workings of the ship, including the long fibrous hairs, then they took a stroll around the outside of the Wyrme. “Look here, Edmund, the external surface of the ship is covered with the same stiff fibrous hairs. That must be how the Wyrme moves. It’s rather similar to how a rowboat moves, but instead of two oars there are hundreds of thousands of these fibrous hairs. Quite ingenious, although I believe this is based on one of nature’s more elegant designs. Quite a number of insects use a similar method to propel themselves through their environment.”

  Edmund ran his hand across the bow of the ship. “What about the sand? Why doesn’t it come rushing in through the opening at the front of the Wyrme?”

  “Very curious. It looks as though these circular discs are the source of the brilliant golden light. Their function may be more complex than simply a source of illumination. We should get Bartholomew’s expert opinion, but it appears the sand is blinked from the front of the craft to the rear of the craft as it travels through the desert. The ship creates its own never-ending tunnel beneath the sand, then propels itself through that tunnel using the fibrous hairs. Quite amazing technology, but I am at a loss as to who may have created it.”

  “Edmund the Explorer called it a Nirriimian sand worm and thought it was very old, a thousand years or more. He didn’t know where it came from.”

  “Quite incredible. I wonder if it would be possible to fabricate a similar craft on a smaller scale, something suitable for a small party of adventurers. This system is far more advanced than the diggers used in King Oberon’s ferillium mine. Hmmm... perhaps we could combine–”

  Bartholomew strolled up behind them, sipping his second glass of white wine. “Did I happen to mention I found the Queen’s Treasure Chamber?”

  Chapter 38

  Edmund Loses Control

  There was no end to Oliver’s questions about Bartholomew’s lost city. “But who on earth – or should I say, who on Nirriim created this city beneath the desert?”

  “I have no idea who built it. There were any number of symbols carved onto the building facades, but I assumed they were there to identify the individual buildings. The letterforms used were unknown to me, although I did find one rather peculiar symbol on a gold button lying next to a skeleton – a spiral pierced by an arrow.”

  Oliver shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not one I’m familiar with.”

  “I’ve seen that before.” Edmund was sitting on the sand cleaning the vape gun. “I remember it quite well. When Edmund the Explorer and I were helping Neilana the Anarkkian, she gave us a small velvet sack of Nirriimian white crystals. Painted on the bag was the same image of a spiral being pierced by an arrow. She said she had taken the crystals from the remains of a Mintarian in the cave where she found the time throttle. She also mentioned they had frightful teeth similar to the skeletons you described in the city. I believe the inhabitants of your lost city were Mintarians.”

  Bartholomew looked perplexed. “Who are the Mintarians? I’ve never heard of them.”

  “I only know they were the ones who constructed the time throttle. Neilana did not seem very enamored with them. She said they were a rather oppressive civilization known for their ruthless plundering of other worlds.”

  Bartholomew rubbed his paw against his chin. “If the Mintarians did build the Wyrme of Deth, then they have my thanks, for they have opened a doorway to the lost city. Edmund, if you’re willing to captain the Wyrme, I can guide us there.”

  “It would be an honor, Bartholomew. If you don’t mind, I should like to rename the Wyrme of Deth in honor of Ed
mund the Explorer. I would call it The Explorer.”

  Bartholomew nodded. “A good thought, Edmund. To be truthful, the idea of adventuring in a ship named the Wyrme of Deth was not very appealing to me. It’s settled then – tomorrow morning we leave on The Explorer to search for the Queen’s Treasure Chamber. If fortune favors us, you’ll soon be holding the Seventh Key in your hand.”

  The next morning Thunder and Lightning came careening out of their tent, almost colliding with Edmund. Lightning was laughing wildly. “Hey, Edmund, today’s the day we find the Queen’s TREASURE Chamber! This is going to be our first big find, and we’ll be famous treasure hunters!”

  Thunder nodded vigorously. “Famous and RICH treasure hunters!” He noticed Edmund was carrying two cloth sacks. “What are the sacks for, Edmund?”

  Edmund gave a mysterious smile. “Bartholomew shaped them for me. They’re for you and Lightning.”

  “For us?”

  “I thought during our voyage to the lost city you could rummage through the mounds of ore in The Explorer. I happened to notice quite a large number of gold nuggets and Nirriimian white crystals there. Piles of them as a matter of fact.”

  Thunder and Lightning’s eyes grew wide. They simultaneously screeched, snatched the bags out of Edmund’s hand, and dashed off towards the ship. Lightning looked back at Edmund and hollered out, “Thanks, Edmund!! You’re the best!”

  Edmund grinned. “That should keep them busy for a while.”

  After breakfast they cleaned up the campsite and packed their supplies into The Explorer. Edmund could hear Thunder and Lighting in the back of the ship shouting and laughing each time they found a gold nugget or Nirriimian white crystal.

  An hour later Edmund stood at the controls of The Explorer. Bartholomew was next to him, pointing to a small dark area on Edmund’s holomap. “It’s right here. We’ll have to go down beneath the desert five or six hundred feet. If the Mintarians were the ones who built this ship, she’ll hold up under the pressures we’ll experience at that depth. That’s a big if, but I think the odds are in our favor.”