The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  THE ENDORA TRILOGY

  by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  THE TIMEDOOR - Book 1

  THE SWORD AND THE CROWN - Book 2

  THE SAVING LIGHT - Book 3

  THE TIMEDOOR

  • Book I in The Endora Trilogy •

  Thomas J. Prestopnik

  Copyright © 2014 Kindle Edition

  by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  Copyright © 2005 Print Edition

  by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a book reviewer who may quote short excerpts of this literary work in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.

  For more information, visit Thomas J. Prestopnik’s website at www.TomPresto.com.

  ISBN-10: 0741423618 (Paperback)

  ISBN-13: 9780741423610 (Paperback)

  Dedicated to my parents,

  Frances and John Prestopnik,

  for their love, generosity, decency and wisdom.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE: A Visitor in the Barn

  CHAPTER TWO: The Second Visitor

  CHAPTER THREE: The Trouble with Time

  CHAPTER FOUR: Return to Endora

  CHAPTER FIVE: A Spy on the Plains

  CHAPTER SIX: The Fortress of Malaban

  CHAPTER SEVEN: Apples, Maps and Magic

  CHAPTER EIGHT: Above the Great Meeting Hall

  CHAPTER NINE: A Fortunate Find

  CHAPTER TEN: A Rescue Gone Sour

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: A Recipe for Sleep

  CHAPTER TWELVE: The Great Plan

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Another Rescue

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: The Journey Back

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: The Final Hope

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: A Flight through Time

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Back Home

  CHAPTER ONE

  A Visitor in the Barn

  Christopher Jordan ran as fast as a tiger through the frosty autumn leaves. He had to tell somebody what he had just seen, though he could hardly believe it himself.

  The eleven-year-old boy raced through a field of tall dry grass as he hurried away from the deserted barn on Mrs. Halloway’s property. A cool breeze whistled by, whipping up falling leaves from nearby trees into mini cyclones. The setting sun cast thin wobbly shadows across the landscape.

  Christopher dashed across the road to his house where he spotted his younger sister Molly playing harvester on the side lawn as she always did in October. He thought himself too old for that game now, but Molly was only eight and still enjoyed it.

  “Molly! You’ll never guess what I just saw. Never in a million years!” he said, panting like a tired dog. He pulled off a ski cap, revealing a mop of light brown hair that nearly matched the color of his eyes.

  Molly frowned at her brother. “I won’t guess until you stop walking all over my tomato plants. You’re squishing them, Chris. How can I harvest squished tomatoes?”

  He took a quick step to one side. “Better?”

  “Now you’re in the squash patch! I’ll never finish my gardening with you around.” Molly took her brother by the hand and led him where it was safer to stand.

  “If you can’t harvest squished tomatoes, you’ll never be able to pick squished squash,” he joked.

  “Very funny,” Molly said, trying not to laugh, though she couldn’t conceal a grin. She wore a purple sweatshirt jacket with the hood tied tightly about her head, but two blond ponytails still managed to peek out. “Now stay over there while I gather some beans and tell me what’s so important.”

  “I saw something in Mrs. Halloway’s barn. Something amazing!” he said. Christopher puffed air into his hands to warm them as the last rays of sunlight soaked into the ground. “Guess what it was?”

  Molly shrugged. “I don’t know.” She and her brother occasionally used the barn as a secret hideout, though it was quite out in the open near an apple tree and not very secret. Molly stopped harvesting and put her fingers to her chin as if in deep thought. “You saw a dinosaur!” she guessed, then burst out laughing.

  “No! That’s not a real guess, Molly. Try again, and be serious this time.”

  “All right, Chris.” She thought for another moment. “I bet you saw some hay and an old wheelbarrow!” she said, bending over in a fit of giggles since she knew very well that those items were inside the barn.

  Christopher smirked. “You’re not even trying to guess.”

  “Oh, just tell me what you saw, Chris, if it’s that amazing.”

  “All right, I will,” he said, then went dead silent, hoping to build suspense. But Molly just tilted her head and clicked her tongue impatiently, so Christopher finally gave in. “I saw a king!”

  “You saw a what?”

  “A king. You know, like as in king and queen?”

  Molly sighed and went back to work in her imaginary garden. “That’s a fib, Chris Jordan, and you know it. Remember what Mom and Dad said about lying–don’t!”

  “I’m not lying, Molly. I did see an actual king. He’s in the barn, pacing back and forth. He looks really worried about something.”

  “And what makes you think this person is a king?”

  “Because he’s wearing a crown and has a sword at his side,” he explained. “He looks exactly like the pictures of kings Dad showed us at the museum.”

  Molly looked at him sternly. “Suppose I run inside and tell Mom and Dad. Then you’ll probably say I made up the whole story to make me look silly.”

  “No I won’t, Molly, because I’m telling the truth.” Christopher marched off and then slowly turned around. “If you don’t believe me, come over and see for yourself.”

  “You’re not going to scare me with some spider or dead mouse you found, are you?”

  “Oh, your hood must be tied too tight! Of course not. Follow me and I’ll show you a real king.”

  Molly couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. So in the lingering twilight she and Christopher trudged through the field by Mrs. Halloway’s house toward the old barn. A full moon climbed in the east behind a grove of pine trees that stood tall and proud like soldiers.

  “Quieter, Molly,” her brother whispered. “You’re making too much noise swishing the leaves around. You’ll scare the king away.”

  “I suppose that’s the excuse you’ll use when we don’t find anybody in the barn.”

  The breeze grew stronger as they approached the double barn doors in front–old, weather-stained and nearly falling off their hinges. Molly stayed close to her brother but wouldn’t admit she was a little frightened. The smell of damp grass danced thick in the air.

  “I’m cold,” Molly whispered. “Maybe we should go back before it gets too dark.”

  “Don’t chicken out on me now,” Christopher said, nearing the doors. Molly reluctantly followed.

  He carefully opened one of the barn doors and the two slipped silently inside. The darkness smelled of hay and rotting wood. Slowly their eyes adjusted with the help of moon rays filtering in through a window near the roof. Molly looked at the familiar surroundings–a few bales of hay, a broken-down wheelbarrow against one wall, and rusty nails sticking out of the rafters. Some weeds had pushed their way up through cracks in the floor, and several wooden crates stood piled near the doorway. And off at the far end
of the barn below the moonlit window, Molly saw–a king!

  The old man paced frantically about, unaware of the children’s presence. A brown traveling cloak was draped over his shoulders, and on top of his head of silver hair rested a delicate crown of gold. A sword hung lifelessly at his side. Molly stared with her mouth wide open until she could no longer contain her excitement.

  “There is a king!” she burst out. “A real live king!” Her voice echoed loudly and startled the stranger.

  “Who’s there?” he snapped. “Make yourself known!”

  Christopher and Molly walked cautiously into the moonlight. “We’re Christopher and Molly Jordan. We live in the house across the road.”

  The King examined them closely, his eyes darting back and forth. “You are sure of this?”

  “Of course,” Molly said. “We’re old enough to know who we are and where we live. But who are you?”

  The King, who had a small kindly face, was taken by surprise at the question. “Who I am doesn’t matter,” he said hastily. “No. Not important at all.”

  “It matters to us,” Christopher said. “You’re a king after all.”

  The stranger’s eyes widened. “A king? Why that’s utter nonsense!” He laughed uncomfortably. “What a silly notion. I’m no king.”

  “Yes you are.”

  “No I’m not!”

  “But you’re wearing a crown,” Christopher pointed out. “And it looks expensive.”

  The King’s eyes turned up. “So what difference does that make? Just because I choose to wear a crown doesn’t mean I’m a king.”

  “And you have a sword at your side,” Molly added.

  “Well yes, but...”

  “And that’s probably a royal cloak draped over your shoulders,” Christopher said, noting the intricate designs embroidered on it.

  “Yes, I do have a crown and a sword and a cloak–but whether they’re royal or not... I mean, people wear crowns all the time, right?” The stranger opened his arms as if pleading with the children. “And who doesn’t wear a sword these days? So to say that I’m a king just because of all that, well, that’s just, um...” The stranger grew even more confused and upset as he paced frantically about the barn. “What I’m trying to say is... I mean, what I want to say is, uh... Oh dear. I’m not saying it very well, am I.” The King plopped down on the cold ground and sighed. “All right. I guess there’s no use denying it. I am a king,” he sadly admitted. “But you don’t have to tell the whole world! I was hoping I’d be safe from visitors in here.”

  Christopher noticed how miserable the man looked. “What’s bothering you? I thought being a king would be great fun. You look like you’re about to have your teeth pulled.”

  “Being a king isn’t so bad,” he said. “But you know that I’m a king. And worse, you know where I am.”

  “We won’t tell,” Molly said.

  The King looked up hopefully. “You mean it?”

  “There’s no reason to tell anyone if you don’t want us to,” Christopher said. “Except for our parents.”

  “How wonderful! I feel much safer now.”

  Christopher lugged over three of the wooden crates so they could sit. “Where did you come from–uh–what shall we call you?”

  “King Rupert,” he said, standing majestically. The moonlight danced on his silver hair. “I’m King Rupert, ruler of Endora.”

  “Where’s that?” Christopher asked.

  “Endora is a small kingdom far away from here. And right now I miss it very much.”

  “I don’t recall learning about any place named Endora in geography class,” Molly said. “How’d you get here?”

  King Rupert sat in front of the children and lowered his voice. “I don’t belong to your world, Molly. I traveled here through a magic timedoor.”

  “A magic timedoor? No way!” she said, folding her arms to keep warm.

  “Quiet, Molly,” Christopher said. “If King Rupert says he came here through a timedoor, then we should believe him. After all, he is sitting in front of us.”

  “It’s true,” he said. “I passed through a timedoor in my kingdom which opened up into your world underneath a small bridge by a nearby river.”

  “There’s a river not even a half mile from here. Molly and I sit on the banks and watch boats sail by.”

  The King smiled. “I was fortunate the timedoor opened where it did. A few feet farther ahead and I would have fallen right into the water!”

  Molly snickered until Christopher nudged her with his elbow. “Why did you come here, King Rupert?” he asked.

  “Shortly after I arrived in your world, the timedoor closed. So I searched the area and this barn was the first deserted place I found.” The King stretched his arms and yawned. “I’m just waiting here until the door reopens.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Christopher said.

  “Oh?”

  “Why are you in our world? Why did you go through the timedoor in the first place?”

  “Oh dear!” the King said, quickly standing. “Look how late it is. I’ve probably kept you up well past your bedtime. Run along now!”

  “It’s only after six o’clock, King Rupert. I don’t go to bed until eight,” Molly said. “Besides, it’s Saturday tomorrow. No school.”

  “But maybe your parents are wondering where you are. Better go and check. Run along now!”

  “We’re fine right here,” Christopher said, surprised that King Rupert was trying to get rid of them all of a sudden. He sensed that the King was hiding something by not answering his simple question. “Just why is the King here?” Christopher thought, but decided not to press him on the matter.

  Christopher, Molly and King Rupert chatted for another half an hour in Mrs. Halloway’s barn when Molly heard her mother calling from across the road. “Now it’s time to go in,” she said. “I guess we have to leave.”

  “Well if you must, then you must,” the King said, somewhat relieved.

  “Come with us!” Christopher urged. “My parents would love to meet a real king. So would little Vergil.”

  “He’s our baby brother,” Molly said.

  King Rupert shook his head. “No, no, no, no, no! I’d be a dreadful inconvenience.”

  The children were disappointed and prepared to leave when Christopher snapped his fingers. “Hang out in our cellar until we tell our parents. Maybe they’ll invite you up for a meal.”

  The King admitted that he was very hungry, not having eaten since stepping through the timedoor earlier that morning. After some hesitation, King Rupert agreed to the children’s plan. In a short time he found himself sitting on an overturned bucket in their cold dark cellar, stuck between a box of potatoes and a sack of red and yellow apples, feeling very much alone.

  Christopher and Molly, in the meantime, rushed inside to tell their parents about King Rupert just as their mother was about to call them home a second time. They chattered like squirrels as they took turns telling their story.

  “A king!” Mrs. Jordan exclaimed. “In our cellar? I see the cold weather has stretched your imaginations.”

  “But, Mom, we’re telling the truth,” Christopher said. He looked at his father. “Dad, you’ve got to believe us! King Rupert is in our cellar this very moment. I can prove it to you.”

  “Very well,” he said, setting aside the evening paper and getting up from his reading chair. “We’ll take a look if only to put an end to this game.”

  “I’ll grab Vergil,” their mother said, heading into the kitchen. The young boy sat on the floor, leaning against the humming refrigerator and pointing excitedly at the full moon outside the curtained window. “Come along, Vergil,” she said, scooping him up. “We have to see the royalty your brother and sister invited into our cellar.”

  Mr. Jordan flipped on a light switch and the five descended the wooden cellar steps. The wind whistled outside the dusty windows. Christopher and Molly looked around the gloomy shadows and gasped when they discove
red that King Rupert had vanished.

  “So where is your king?” Mr. Jordan asked. “Apparently he wasn’t that hungry after all.”

  “But he was here!” Molly insisted. “Maybe he had some important business. He seemed awfully nervous in the barn.”

  “I think we’ve had enough of kings this evening,” Mrs. Jordan said as she headed up the stairs with Vergil. “How about a cup of hot chocolate?”

  “Mother is right,” Mr. Jordan agreed. “You kids have had your joke for the night. Now up you go.”

  Christopher and Molly sighed and headed upstairs when Christopher saw a glimmer of reflected light in the shadows near where King Rupert had been sitting. “Look!” he shouted, rushing over and picking up the King’s sword and crown. “King Rupert must have forgotten these when he left.”

  Mr. Jordan examined the items with much interest. Though he worked at a museum in the nearby city, he was very puzzled by what he saw. “I can’t place these objects anywhere in history. They contain strange markings I’ve never seen before.”

  “Now do you believe us?” Molly said. “They belong to King Rupert.”

  “They belong to somebody, though I still find your story hard to believe.”

  Whether they believed it or not, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan did agree to accompany the children to Mrs. Halloway’s barn, but King Rupert was nowhere to be found. Christopher and Molly urged their parents to check down by the river bridge, hoping that the King might be searching for the magic timedoor. That idea proved unsuccessful as well.

  In the end, the sword and the crown were stored in an empty apple sack in the cellar where Mrs. Jordan thought they would be out of harm’s way. Mr. Jordan promised to study the objects later, hoping to determine when and where in history they might have been created. And when Christopher and Molly went to bed that night, they remained very wide awake, very puzzled and very upset that King Rupert had deserted them.