Orville Mouse and the Puzzle of the Clockwork Glowbirds (Orville Wellington Mouse Book 1)

by Tom Hoffman

  The wolf gave a ferocious snarl and leaped toward Orville, his deadly sharp fangs glinting in the early morning sun.

  “Stop.” The mouseling was holding up her paw. The huge wolf halted instantly, looking back at the mouseling. With a whimper the enormous forest wolf sauntered back to the mouseling, and then with a great yawn it lay down next to her. The mouseling smiled sweetly, gently scratching the top of the wolf’s head. Moments later the wolf was sound asleep.

  Orville had landed and was standing in the middle of the meadow with the double bladed axe still raised high over his head. He lowered the axe, his eyes fixed on the mouseling.

  The mouseling said nothing, but sat down next to the wolf and leaned back against it, her head resting on his thick coat of fur.

  Orville was, of course, quite confused. He caught a quick movement from the deep shadows behind the mouseling and the wolf. A mouse stepped out into the clearing. It was the mouse from the orange grove, the mouse with the blue robe, the mouse who had asked Orville who was having the dream.

  Orville’s axe fell to the forest floor with a dull thud. His eyes were on the plump old mouse wearing the blue robe. “Who are you? Why do you keep showing up in my dreams? Do I know you?”

  The huge wolf rose slowly to its feet and gazed at Orville, then turned to the mouse in the blue robe. “Does he see?”

  The mouse studied Orville carefully, then replied to the wolf. “He sees, but does not yet understand.”

  “That is to be expected. I will speak with him when he arrives.”

  Orville felt something grab his shoulder and shake it.

  “Wake up, sleepy bones! Time to get moving. We should reach the lost monastery late this afternoon.”

  Chapter 28

  A Monastery in Ruins

  Orville told Sophia about his puzzling woodcutter dream but she found it just as confusing as he did. “He said he would speak with you when you arrive? Arrive where?”

  “I don’t know, he didn’t say. Maybe when we arrive at the lost monastery?”

  “Well, that doesn’t make much sense, but neither did big green rolling ball creatures who like tasty cakes. I guess we’ll find out this afternoon.”

  Orville felt Proto rustling about in his backpack and a moment later Proto’s head poked out from under the flap. “Good morning, adventurers. I trust you had a lovely sleep? While you were sleeping I was strolling along through Pavorak Gorge. Quite lovely there in the late afternoon with the low light illuminating the colorful cavern walls. As it happens, while I was admiring the lovely scenery, I realized something. More precisely, I realized two things. First, I was not thinking about tasty snacks, and second, I was not worrying about being attacked and torn to pieces by a gigantic silver autonomous Anarkkian Attack Spider. In fact, I had quite a pleasant walk and I believe I shall do it again tomorrow, after I have completed a little project I’m working on.”

  “That’s wonderful! It looks like your idea of safely experiencing adventure through the eyes of the glowbird has been very successful. What is the project you’re working on? Something to do with Anarkkian history?”

  “No, nothing to do with those dastardly Anarkkians. Something else entirely, but it’s a surprise, so you’ll just have to wait.” Proto gave a loud chuckle. “And if you think it has anything to do with tasty snacks, I’m afraid you would be quite mistaken.” With a great flap of his wings Proto shot off into the sky, heading south.

  Orville watched as Proto grew smaller and smaller. “That’s rather mysterious. I wonder what he’s up to?”

  “Maybe he’s raising a giant carnivorous centipede to be your pet.”

  “Unngh! You really are so cruel.”

  Several hours later when they stopped for lunch Sophia held her Papa’s map out for Orville to see. “We’re getting close. Look, you can see this big rock that looks like a bird just down the beach about half a mile. That’s where we turn and head inland. We should reach the monastery after about a two mile hike. Well, we should reach the ruins of a monastery. I’m not completely certain why Papa said things aren’t as they appear to be, but he definitely wanted us to explore it. Maybe we’ll find some stone carvings or hieroglyphs or something like that.”

  Later that afternoon they were standing next to what Orville had named Bird Rock, the huge granite outcropping which bore some resemblance to a Gnorli bird.

  “We head inland through there.” Orville pointed to a dense stand of trees and headed toward them, pushing his way through the heavy beach grass. The thicket of trees turned out to be a mile wide forest and was unfortunately filled with tangled, thorny underbrush. Before long Orville and Sophia were swatting at clouds of annoying buzzing insects stirred up by their passage through the dense spiny undergrowth. Finally the trees came to an end and the two adventurers stepped out into the bright summer sunlight.

  Orville could not move. He was looking at the very last thing he had expected to see. Sophia stepped out behind him and put her paw over her mouth.

  “I don’t believe it.” It was the most picturesque, pastoral orange grove they had ever seen, a gentle breeze carrying the delicate fragrance of ten thousand newly bloomed orange blossoms across the balmy summer air.

  “This is it, Sophia. This is my dream. This is where I was. This is where we were.”

  The two adventurers stepped into the grove, walking slowly through the long rows of blossoming orange trees, the delicious scent filling their nostrils. “How can this be?”

  “I don’t know. The only thing I know is I will never truly comprehend the depth of this world.”

  Orville pointed past the end of the grove. “There it is.”

  Sophia halted, her eyes on the gigantic blue tree. “How can a tree be that big? How old do you think it is? It has to be thousands of years. The leaves are so bright, brighter even than in your dream. I’m feeling something, Orville. It’s... I don’t know... some kind of force. It’s not something bad, it’s something very, very good, but it’s like nothing I’ve ever sensed before.”

  “I feel it too. There’s a feeling of absolute joy. It’s deep and it’s old. How very strange.”

  Sophia and Orville strolled past the last orange tree, heading toward the astonishingly large blue tree. “It must be five hundred feet wide, Sophia. And so tall. I don’t know how it could be so tall.” Orville walked over to one of the gigantic branches which was almost sweeping the ground. He plucked off one of the blue leaves and held it out for Sophia to see. “It’s beautiful, a perfect circle. Do you think it might be from another world?”

  Orville was waiting for Sophia’s answer when he heard the voice of the forest wolf from his woodcutter dream.

  “Is he true?” Orville whirled around to see the now familiar blue robed mouse step out from behind the tree’s gargantuan trunk. Sophia stopped in her tracks, staring at the mouse with wide eyes.

  “Is that him, Orville?”

  “Yes, it’s him, the mouse from my dreams.”

  The old mouse in the blue robe walked slowly toward them with an odd shuffling gait, coming to a halt about ten feet away from Orville.

  Orville heard a second voice. It was coming from the mouse who stood facing him.

  “I believe him to be true.”

  “Does he see?”

  “He sees, but does not understand.”

  “That is to be expected. He is young still. I will speak with him now.”

  The blue robed mouse motioned for Sophia and Orville to follow him, then turned, slowly making his way around the perimeter of the enormous tree. When they had reached the other side of the tree Orville spotted the ancient stone ruins. He whispered to Sophia. “Look! It’s the ruins your Papa wrote about. He was right, it’s old collapsed walls and piles of rubble.”

  As they drew closer to the ruins Orville began studying the old stones for ancient carvings or hieroglyphs which might give him a clue as to the creators of the monastery, but found he was having a difficult time focusing on the walls.
The ruins were... vibrating, moving, changing. The walls were slightly taller than they had been, the piles of rubble were smaller, stones were missing, new stones were forming, doorways were appearing, roofs were blinking into existence. Orville watched as a mammoth wall of stone seemed to form out of nothing, quickly winding its way around the monastery. A pair of massive thirty foot tall wooden doors lined with heavy wrought iron bands rippled into the world before his eyes. Orville could scarcely breathe. The monastery looked as though it had been built yesterday. He turned to Sophia. She shook her head. There were no words.

  The blue robed mouse reached up and raised the heavy iron ring on the door. He let it fall and a deep echoing gong rang out when it collided with the heavy wrought iron band. The mouse took several steps back and waited. The massively heavy wooden doors slowly groaned open, giving the adventurers just enough room to enter. The blue robed mouse stepped through first, followed closely by Sophia and Orville. The doors rumbled shut behind them.

  The first thing Sophia noticed was the immense sprawling garden. It was lovely beyond imagination, filled with thousands of magnificent multicolored blooms in all shapes and sizes. A dozen red robed mice were tending the garden, digging and planting, watering and weeding. They continued working as though Sophia and Orville were not there. In the center of the vast garden stood a massive square stone building thirty feet tall and a hundred feet wide. The blue robed mouse led them down a wide curving garden path made from thousands of colorful, artfully arranged river stones. The path looked ancient, worn smooth by a thousand years of wear. Orville could see no windows in the stone building and spotted only one entrance, a single sky blue door with a golden eye embedded in the center. Orville recognized the symbol instantly. It was the same symbol used by the Shapers Guild.

  The blue robed mouse turned to face Sophia and Orville. “Sophia, you will sit here on the stone bench while Orville goes inside. I’m uncertain how long he will be.”

  “You know my name?”

  The blue robed mouse smiled kindly at Sophia. “We will speak of this later.”

  He turned back toward the blue door and sang three crisp and clear exquisite notes that seemed to linger and echo through the garden, finally becoming part of the monastery. The door swung open, revealing only shadows within. The mouse in the blue robe motioned for Orville to enter. “He will speak with you now.”

  Orville looked back at Sophia, who gave him a reassuring smile. He took a deep breath and stepped into the darkened building.

  Chapter 29

  Monks of the Blue Robe

  Sophia watched as the door closed behind Orville. She couldn’t wait to find out what he would learn inside the monastery. The blue robed mouse took a seat on the stone bench next to Sophia. He sat quietly, his paws resting in his lap, his eyes on the beautiful blooms of the garden.

  “It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a garden as lovely as this one.” Sophia smiled brightly, hoping the mouse would reply. She wanted to find out who these strange mice were.

  “Yes. Lovely and very old. This garden has been tended by the Red Monks for millennium. The flowers change, but the garden is eternal.”

  Sophia nodded. “As it is with mice. The mice change but the village remains.”

  The mouse smiled, his eyes wrinkling. “I know your name because I knew your father. Rowland Mouse was a dear friend of the Blue Monks.”

  “What? I think you must be mistaken. My Papa was looking for this monastery but never found it. He thought it was only a ruins. He’s the one who asked us investigate the site.”

  “Sophia, I am the Fourth Monk, a member of an ancient order of monks known as the Monks of the Blue Robe. There are always thirteen of us. I am the Fourth, and Orville will be speaking with the Thirteenth Monk, the most senior of our order. Your confusion is understandable. Your father did not know us on Periculum, but he did know us on Nirriim, on the Island of Blue Monks. He visited us there on many occasions and was always a welcomed guest. He was true, but it was not the proper time for him to understand. That will come later, as it shall for you. It is quite clear to me that you are true also. You follow the truth from within. Many mice call it the truth that is found in your heart. While that is indeed quite lyrical, the truth really comes from your deeper self, a vast consciousness most mice are unaware of. You are a raindrop, your deeper self is the ocean.”

  “I do understand what you’re saying, but I’m still confused. How could my father know you on Nirriim? Do you travel back and forth between the two worlds?”

  The Fourth Monk smiled again. “No. This monastery, as you may have noticed during your arrival, is... not an ordinary one. Think of worlds as pages in a book. When you poke a sharp stick through the book, the stick will touch all the pages simultaneously. So it is with our monastery. It exists simultaneously in many worlds. Two of those worlds are Periculum and Nirriim. Your father knew us as the Blue Monks of Nirriim, but not as the Blue Monks of Periculum.”

  “Oh. That seems quite extraordinary.”

  “The world is filled with extraordinary things. You only have to look for them.”

  “Orville is good at that. He always finds puzzles. That’s how we found you here on Periculum. He noticed a group of clockwork glowbirds back in Muridaan Falls and it was our search for the truth behind them which eventually led us here.”

  “A most fortunate series of events, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Well... I think there was more to it than that. I think the universe wanted us to find you. There is a very evil mouse with terrible plans for the Metaphysical Adventurers.”

  “Yes, Draken Mouse. We are quite aware of him. You may be assured that all is as it should be. It is often said that beneath apparently chaotic events you will find order and perfection. A dear friend of ours named Bartholomew the Adventurer used a handful of glass marbles to clearly illustrate this concept. He said if you throw the glass marbles at a wall, it first appears to be a scene of total chaos, marbles flying and bouncing every which way, clattering across the table tops and floor. If you look more deeply, however, you become aware that every marble is following precisely the laws of physical motion. Each marble is exactly where it should be at every moment in time. It can be no other way. That is why you are sitting here next to me on this bench. It can be no other way. All is as it should be.”

  “That’s lovely. Thank you for teaching me that.”

  “I quite suspect you already knew it, but perhaps you were looking at it from a slightly different perspective. I do apologize, Sophia, but I must leave you now. Orville will more than likely be out within the hour. You may both stay with us as long as you wish, and our doors shall always be open to you.”

  The Fourth Monk patted Sophia gently on her shoulder, then sang three short notes. The blue door swung open and he disappeared into the monastery, the door closing softly behind him.

  While Sophia had been outside talking with the Fourth Monk, Orville was having his own extraordinary experience inside the stone building.

  The first thing he noticed was the sweet smell of incense mixed with the musty scent of ages gone by. The room was nearly one hundred feet square with ceilings that stood twenty or more feet tall. The floor was of the same design as the garden path, made from beautifully arranged river stones worn smooth by the feet of uncountable mice.

  The room was empty and almost dark, illuminated only by a slight glow from the stone ceiling high overhead. He squinted his eyes, peering out into the darkness. Who was he supposed to talk to? There was no one here.

  A slight movement at the back of the room caught his attention. There was a flash of blue, then he noticed a robe, then a mouse wearing the blue robe. Orville blinked, trying to focus. There were thirteen mice all wearing blue robes. Orville stepped back. What was this place? Who were these mice, and what in the world was he doing here?

  One of the mice stepped forward, making his way across the stone floor toward Orville. Orville could hear the sound of the mouse’s
feet sliding over the smooth stones. The other twelve mice faded away, leaving only the mouse who was walking toward him.

  The blue robed mouse stopped when he was six feet away from Orville. He paused, his eyes focused on Orville.

  “Orville, I am the Thirteenth Monk, the senior monk of our order, the Monks of the Blue Robe. I welcome you to our monastery. I understand you have traveled a great distance to find us.”

  “Well, umm... to be very honest I wasn’t really looking for you until recently.”

  The Thirteenth Monk laughed, inexplicably amused by Orville’s reply. He hummed a few short notes then said, “Please, have a seat.” Orville looked behind him and saw a large green chair which had not been there before.

  Orville looked with surprise at the Thirteenth Monk. “You’re a shaper?”

  “Something like that. The Blue Monks manipulate energy as shapers do, but we do it with song, with sound. I am speaking to you with words now, but the original language of the Blue Monks is song. It is quite an effective method of communication if you think about it. It’s quite expressive, allowing for a transference of deep emotions and feeling. Orville, why do you think you’re here?”

  “Well, Sophia thinks the universe was leading us here.”

  “She is quite right, of course. You are here for the same reason a coin falls to the floor when we release it from our grasp.”

  “We were drawn here by some kind of force?”

  “Orville, is the purpose of your visit to find the fabled source of unlimited power?”

  “Well, I don’t exactly know what the real purpose is. Sophia’s Papa wasn’t sure if there really was a source of unlimited power, but he said if there was one he didn’t want it to fall into the wrong paws.”

  “I see. That does indeed sound like our dear friend Rowland Mouse. I can tell you that there is a source of unlimited power, but I can also tell you that the wrong paws would be unable to hold it. The wrong paws may as well be grasping at the empty air around them.”