The Thirteenth Monk (Bartholomew the Adventurer Trilogy Book 2)

by Tom Hoffman

  Bartholomew set off to explore the upper regions of the palace. It was possible the answer to opening the golden doors might be found in the private chambers of the King and Queen.

  Thunder and Lightning decided to stay and hunt for treasure in the numerous alcoves and ante rooms they had not searched already. After poking around in dark corners looking for secret doorways or hidden stairways they finally gave up. Lighting went exploring in the adjoining rooms while Thunder stayed in the throne room waiting for the others to return.

  As Thunder sat idly in the huge room he eyed the great white marble thrones, imagining what it would be like to be an all-powerful king. He picked up the crown and ambled over to the largest throne. He climbed onto it and took a seat, putting the crown on his head. Giving his best attempt at a regal voice, he cried out, “It is I, the great and fearsome King Thunder, ruler of the world! You there! Bring me cake and ale! And treasure!!” He started laughing and wished Lightning was there to see him. He was laughing right up to the moment he saw the ghost.

  It appeared on the opposite side of the room and was drifting slowly towards him, a barely visible white vaporous cloud. It began gaining substance and form, turning a peculiar rust color, and appeared to be walking, but Lightning noticed its feet weren’t touching the floor. As it drew closer he could see its shape was that of a Mintarian, with a snake head and the hideous double row of teeth. It was also wearing a crown – a crown identical to the one Thunder had resting on his shoulders. “Uh oh. I don’t think I should be in this throne. He looks mad.” Thunder hopped down, dashing around the side of the throne, then peeked out at the meandering ghost. The apparition took no notice of Thunder and continued trudging along through the air towards the throne, finally standing directly in front of it. Rather than sitting in it, however, the ghost gave a great weary sigh, circling ponderously around the throne towards Thunder’s hiding place.

  “Eek!” Thunder skittered backwards out of the ghost’s path. He almost stumbled and fell as he dashed around to the opposite side of the throne. He was now sincerely terrified. His experience with unearthly ethereal beings possessing two rows of curved vicious teeth was limited to the one he was now looking at – the one who appeared to be chasing him in torturously slow motion. He decided to apologize to the ghostly King. “I’m sorry for sitting in your throne, sir. I just wanted to see what it felt like to be a king. Even though I know you are the king, and not me.”

  The translucent floating King never acknowledged Thunder’s words, instead making its ungainly way back to the two golden doors.

  Thunder relaxed, watching curiously as the King removed his crown, holding it high in the air with both scaly hands. His grisly claws were almost as frightening as his teeth. The King walked towards the chamber doors, crown held above his head. When he was only inches from the doors, he turned the crown so the eight spires faced them, then pressed it against the doors. He repeated this action over and over, finally lowering the crown and placing it back on his head. He turned to the right, his feet shuffling several inches above the ground until he reached the far wall. Thunder was still watching when the ghost simply faded away to nothingness.

  “Creekers. What was that??” Thunder began to shake. He thought he was going to either throw up or cry, and quickly glanced about to see if anyone was watching. Before he could do either, something began to nag at him. “What was the ghost King doing? Why was he pushing his crown against the door like that?” It took him only a moment to realize the crown he held in his own two paws was the key to opening the golden doors. When he fully grasped this he began shaking again, becoming quite light headed. He leaned against the throne until his dizziness had passed.

  He stepped in front of the two magnificent golden doors, examining closely the area where the king had pressed the crown. “Great Nirriimian Nadwokks! There’s a circle of eight small holes in the door!! Yes! I think this is it!!” Stretching as tall as he could, Thunder still couldn’t reach high enough to insert the crown. His eyes darted around the room until he spied a large wooden chair hidden in a dark alcove.

  He dashed over and dragged the chair back to the doors. He was giggling uncontrollably now. “I’ll be the one to open the chamber doors! I’ll be the one!” He leaped up onto the chair. “Ha ha! Yes, I’ll be the one! I am the famous treasure hunter Thunder!” Raising the crown above his head he positioned it so the bejeweled spires aligned perfectly with the circle of eight holes. He pushed the crown in with all his might. With a soft clicking noise the two massive golden doors swung open. Thunder began laughing hysterically, leaping about in a wild impromptu dance of manic joy. He gave a short yelp when his foot became caught between two chair rails and he lost his balance, tumbling to the solid marble floor below. His world quite abruptly turned a very dark shade of black.

  Chapter 40

  Life is but a Dream

  Thunder never really knew how he wound up in the jungle, but there he was, with something dreadful chasing after him, doing its best to prevent him from finding whoever it was he was supposed to find. He didn’t know what was chasing him, or who he was supposed to find, but he did know he’d better not let the dreadful thing catch him.

  Each time he had the dream it was exactly the same. It began as he ripped his way through the thick, thorny foliage, slipping in between the coarse vines and branches. He stopped to listen for any sound of the thing chasing him, but heard only the harmless squawking of the feathered jungle denizens flying overhead. “Maybe it gave up and quit chasing me.” He raced ahead through the jungle anyway, just to be safe.

  Then came the river. He was only a mouseling, barely two feet tall, and he didn’t know the first thing about swimming. Like clockwork, the crashing noises in the jungle started up again the instant he sat down to rest. He looked at the rushing river, saw the log floating past, heard the splintering trees behind him and made the leap. He plunged into the churning water, clawing madly at the log, barely managing to hold on. The thing chasing him let out a hideous rasping shriek as the log was carried rapidly downriver. First came the whitewater, then a small falls, then the jagged rock, then darkness, then he woke up face down in the mud.

  It was dark then, and he’d forgotten his name. He grasped the medallion hanging from his neck because it made him feel safe. Crawling painfully into the slippery wet jungle he found a hollow beneath a massive vine covered tree and dragged himself down into it, falling asleep instantly.

  The morning sun woke him, his stomach aching horribly from hunger. He felt weak and shaky. He didn’t eat the berries he found because someone he couldn’t remember had told him never to eat wild berries. He pushed through the prickly foliage until he emerged into a clearing. That’s when he saw the two mice carrying metal buckets filled with orange berries. The grown-up mouse looked surprised to see him, his face full of warmth and concern. The mouseling next to him looked about his age and was staring at him with wide eyes.

  The grown-up mouse said, “Are you lost? Do you know where you live?”

  Everything spun about wildly as he tumbled to the wet jungle floor. The ending was always the same – cold, wet, darkness.

  * * *

  “Thunder! Thunder! Wake up! What happened? Are you all right?” Thunder moaned slightly when Bartholomew shook his shoulder, but his eyes remained closed. Bartholomew touched a paw to Thunder’s face, a swirling cocoon of pink light spreading out around his head and upper torso. The pink cloud was drawn into Thunder, and moments later his eyes blinked open.

  “Uhh... is it time to get up already? It didn’t get my medallion. I’m so hungry.”

  The concern on Bartholomew’s face grew. “Thunder, what are you talking about? What was trying to get your medallion?” Bartholomew glanced around the room but saw no one. “How did the chamber doors get opened? What happened here?”

  Thunder finally returned to the waking world. He stood up, but quickly sat back down in the wooden chair. “I opened the doors, Bartholomew! I put the crown in
the circle of holes and pushed it and the door opened! I saw a ghost do it with his ghost crown and then I did it and it worked!”

  Bartholomew was getting more and more confused by Thunder’s story. “You saw a ghost and it was chasing you to get a medallion?”

  “No, I saw the ghost, opened the doors, then fell off the chair and had my dream about the monster chasing me. I don’t know why I said it wanted my medallion. It wants to stop me from finding someone too, but I don’t know who. The dream is about when Lightning and his dad found me in the jungle when I was a mouseling. They took me in to live with them. I dream about that day all the time, and it’s always scary.”

  Bartholomew’s curiosity was piqued. “Clara says having the same dream over and over is your inner voice telling you to do something. Can you show me the medallion?”

  Thunder removed a chain from around his neck, holding it up for Bartholomew to see. Attached to the chain was a plain hexagonal silver medallion, about one inch wide and as thick as a 20 credit copper coin. It looked entirely unremarkable until Bartholomew flipped it over. It had a single eye engraved on it. “Where did you get this?”

  “I don’t know. I had it when Lightning’s dad found me. What’s the eye? Is that bad?”

  “No, Thunder, it’s not bad at all. The single eye is the image found on Shapers Guild rings.” He held out his paw, letting Thunder examine his Eleventh Ring.

  “Do you think I got the medallion from a shaper? Do you think my... other parents were shapers?”

  “I can’t say. I’ve seen the eye on Shapers Guild Rings, the World Doors, and at the Blue Monk Monastery, but never on a medallion like this. The symbol is far older than the Shapers Guild. No one knows how far it goes back, or to what. Not even the Blue Monks know. Someone was chasing you in the dream?”

  “Yes, but I never see them. It’s big and sounds like a monster. I didn’t know until now it was after the medallion.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. You were lucky Lightning’s father found you, although I suspect it was no accident that he did. I would imagine in time you will unravel the story behind your medallion and learn how you came to be in the jungle. But, as Clara would say, many events must first unfold at a pace determined by the universe. She says it’s a process that cannot be rushed. We learn from each event we experience, even if sometimes we’re only learning patience.”

  Thunder was looking at the golden doors. “Can we look in the Queen’s Treasure Chamber now? Do you think it will be filled with gold and jewels? Do Lighting and I get some of the treasure?”

  “If there is treasure, it will be shared equally by all of us, but we should wait until Lightning, Oliver, and Edmund return. We have no idea what manner of traps or terrors may be lurking inside the chamber.”

  “Or what manner of treasure!”

  “Great heavens, Bartholomew, you opened the doors!” Oliver’s booming voice echoed out from across the room. Lightning and Edmund were right behind him.

  Bartholomew held both paws out towards Thunder. “Thunder is the hero. He discovered his crown was the key to unlocking the doors.”

  “That’s because I saw the ghost of some old King trying to open it. I saw a ghost! A REAL ghost! He almost grabbed me!”

  Lightning’s eyes grew very wide. “He almost grabbed you? Holy creekers, I wish I’d been here! We didn’t find anything. Edmund thinks the Anarkkians ransacked the city and took everything. What’s in the treasure chamber? Did you find the Seventh Key?”

  “We haven’t gone in yet. Bartholomew said we had to wait for you to get back. There might be traps waiting inside.”

  “Traps, shmaps, let’s go find some treasure!” Lightning made a dash towards the doors.

  “Wait!” Bartholomew grabbed the back of Lightning’s coat, stopping him in his tracks. He stepped in front of Lightning and faced the open doors, moving his paws in a circular motion. The cloud of small lights overhead streamed down from the ceiling and swarmed through the golden doors into the Queen’s Treasure Chamber.

  Bartholomew peered into the chamber. A defensive sphere popped up around the party of adventurers. “Stay inside the sphere until we know it’s safe in there. Lightning, Thunder, this is not a game. Have you forgotten already about the vape rifle in the blinker? Many a treasure hunter has lost their life by acting in haste. There are times when you are forced to take risks, but you must think carefully before you act.”

  “We promise. It’s just... this is our first real treasure.”

  “The treasure will wait for you. Everyone follow me.” Bartholomew stepped through the doors, then held out one paw, a wide violet beam spreading out across the massive room. He moved the beam about until he was satisfied there were no traps. “It looks safe to me. Everyone look for the Seventh Key. Edmund said it was in a long canvas pack, but it could have been removed. We’re looking for a heavy gold key with the image of a single eye on it, and a small blue shimmering cube.”

  Oliver studied the room. The Queen’s Chamber was round, approximately two hundred feet in diameter. Within the room were three concentric rings of what appeared to be treasure chests, each about four feet long and three feet tall. The outer ring had forty-eight chests, the central ring had twenty-four, and the inner ring had twelve, for a total of eighty-four chests. Oliver was the only one to note that eight plus four add up to twelve. The number twelve must have been significant in the Mintarian culture, probably having some connection to the twelve worlds.

  In the center of the rings was an ornately carved white marble pedestal with a crystal sphere seated on the top of it. Inside the sphere was a small gleaming object, but Oliver couldn’t make out what it was. He stepped through the rings of treasure chests and approached the crystal sphere. The object encased within the sphere was a large gold ring. Engraved on the ring was the Mintarian symbol of a spiral being pierced by an arrow. “Bartholomew, look at this. It’s a Mintarian ring encased in a crystal sphere. It must be an extraordinary object to be placed in the center of the Queen’s Treasure Chamber.”

  Thunder and Lightning were running about, madly flipping open the treasure chests. “Hurry up! Open them all! Creekers, another one filled with these dumb white marbles! This isn’t worth anything! Keep opening them – maybe there’s one filled with gold and gems and Nirriimian white crystals!”

  Bartholomew stepped over to the marble pedestal and examined the Mintarian ring. “You’re right, Oliver. There has to be something special about this ring. I’m guessing it’s far more than just a ring, probably bestowing upon its wearer some form of power.”

  Thunder and Lightning raced on, opening treasure chests as fast as they could. “There’s nothing here! Just white marbles! What kind of treasure chamber is this?!”

  Bartholomew was still contemplating the ring inside the sphere. “It’s worrisome to me that the ring is encased in crystal. I don’t think we should try to remove it. In fact, I am sensing we should leave it where it lies. There’s something... I’m not certain... but something is going–”

  “GHOST!!” Edmund was pointing frantically at the golden doors.

  “Creekers! It’s him again! It’s the ghost King!”

  Lightning grabbed Thunder, dragging him over to the far side of the chamber. “Look out! He might get us! Edmund, clobber him! Clobber the ghost!”

  Bartholomew kept his eyes on the ghost King, but felt none of the fear Lightning did. “Everyone be still. I don’t think he means to hurt us. He is after something in the treasure chamber.”

  The adventurers were motionless, watching mutely as the ghost King shuffled along inches above the chamber floor in an awkward combination of drifting and walking. He passed directly through the treasure chests standing in his way. His form was ethereal. “He’s a field of awareness, not physical matter. I don’t think he could hurt us even if he wanted to.”

  The ghost King reached the center of the room, floating in front of the pedestal which held the crystal sphere. A warm golde
n light spread through him as he raised a scaly hand and placed it gently on the sphere. The golden light was pulled into the sphere, causing it to dissipate, leaving the ring floating several inches above the pedestal. The ghost King carefully retrieved the ring, sliding it onto his long clawed finger. An instant later he was no longer a ghost. He was solid, part of the physical world again.

  Lightning shrieked out, “He’s real! He’s going to get us! Edmund!”

  Bartholomew flicked his paw rapidly, defense shields popping up around each of the adventurers. “Don’t move! Stay in your sphere. I still don’t think he means us any harm. He just wanted the ring.”

  The ghost King looked at Bartholomew curiously, then at Edmund. Finally he turned and looked directly at Thunder.

  “Why is he looking at me? Because I sat in his throne? I’m sorry, King! Bartholomew?”

  The King held up both hands in a universally understood display of peace, showing clearly that he held no weapons or malice. He walked across the room, stepping around the treasure chests until he reached Thunder. He spoke for almost a minute to Thunder in a very peculiar language, one that made Bartholomew think of a horse with a mouthful of flies. The language was bizarre, but something about his words was disarming, and their fear of the King vanished.

  Bartholomew called out to Thunder, “I think he’s thanking you for opening the doors!”

  The King motioned for Thunder to follow him, moving to the second ring of treasure chests. He held out one scaly finger, moving it from one chest to the next, apparently counting them. When he reached the seventh chest he walked over to it and pointed directly at it, repeating an incomprehensible phrase several times. He backed away from Thunder, his eyes roaming about the chamber as though having one last look. He nodded again to Thunder, touched the gold ring to his forehead and vanished in a brilliant flash of light.

  Thunder blinked in surprise. “Did you see that? He’s gone!” Then he dashed over to the treasure chest the King had pointed at. “This has to be the one!” He flipped open the lid and gave a loud yelp. “What?? There’s just more of those white marbles? He tricked us!”