The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “This is treacherous!” the King fumed. “Have you no sense of decency and responsibility?”

  “I am responsible to myself alone! I will carve out a new kingdom in this world, and if anybody tries to stop me, he’ll pay dearly,” Malaban snarled. “Now get out of my sight, all of you!”

  The world ended for King Rupert at that moment. He knew he must return to Endora soon, only to face the crushing blow of Belthasar’s army. His power, his kingdom, and most importantly, his family, would perish in a single day on the battlefield. There was nothing left to do to stop it.

  But Christopher had other thoughts. Though despair had claimed the King, he wouldn’t allow himself to be pushed around. The boy was in his world now, and no one from another world, not even an evil sorcerer, was going to tell him what to do. Christopher kicked a spray of dirt across the fire, making it explode in a burst of blue and yellow sparks in front of Malaban.

  “Maybe King Rupert can’t get you to call off the attack on his castle, but I won’t allow you to stay in my world! Leave now!” Christopher pointed to the passage leading out of the caves. Visions of his parents, little Vergil and home flashed through his mind. He would protect them. “Go back to your dreary castle where you belong.”

  “You’d better listen to my brother!” Molly cried, taking her place at Christopher’s side.

  Malaban jumped to his feet, his face contorted like a wild animal. “You dare tell me what to do?”

  Christopher smirked, growing less afraid of the sorcerer. “Yes. You’re nothing but a coward, Malaban. You’re so afraid of facing your own miserable life that you have to wreck everyone else’s in order to feel good. Well, the world can do without people like that. So why don’t you just keep your face out of other people’s lives and mind your own business!”

  Whether Malaban or King Rupert looked more surprised at the children’s boldness was difficult to guess. The cave lay deadly silent. No one knew what to do or say at the apparent standoff and time was running out. King Rupert glanced at Ulric for advice. Malaban twitched in uncertainty as the flames of the bonfire snapped.

  Suddenly the sorcerer leaped over the burning twigs and stood face to face with Christopher and Molly. His voice dripped with bitterness. “You dare threaten me, little ones? Leave now or I’ll strike you both down with bolts of white fire!”

  Artemas and Ulric gasped in astonishment and Mr. Smithers shook with fear. King Rupert turned ghostly white. “Do as he says! Don’t ever cross a sorcerer!”

  But Christopher and Molly ignored the King’s advice and stood their ground. They stared directly into the sorcerer’s eyes, challenging him to do his worst.

  “I’m warning you–leave or pay the consequences!” Malaban said, raising his hands above his head as if ready to shoot lightning bolts from his fingertips. “This is your last chance!”

  “Do as he says!” King Rupert repeated, his knuckles pressed nervously into his face. “Oh please!”

  Christopher and Molly didn’t budge an inch, though Malaban towered above them like a vicious monster out of a bad dream. The sorcerer extended his hands straight ahead, rapidly moving his fingers as if ready to do his worst, and then–his arms dropped lifelessly to his side. Malaban fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands, sobbing.

  “I’ve lost my powers,” he whispered, and then said nothing for several moments.

  “What?” King Rupert gasped.

  Malaban looked up at the stunned crowd gathered around him. “Ever since I arrived in this world, my powers grew less and less. My magic drained out of me, slowly at first, and then much faster as the days went by. I couldn’t stop it because the timedoor had closed and I was unable to return to my own world. Now I’m powerless,” he moaned, staring helplessly at the children. “And worse yet, I have nowhere to live except in this cold and miserable cave.”

  Everyone was shocked at the sight of the once mighty sorcerer groveling before them. King Rupert, realizing he had nothing to fear, was ready to lash out at Malaban. But pity touched his heart as he looked at the tragic figure and he simply turned away.

  “I can’t figure it out,” Mr. Smithers whispered to Artemas. “I thought this Malaban fellow was so powerful.”

  “He was. But living in this world seems to diminish one’s magic,” the magician said. “It happened to me, though I was lucky enough to get home before all of my powers were gone. They have since returned to normal.”

  “He looks so sad,” Molly said. “Will he ever return to the way he was?”

  Artemas shook his head, disturbed to see a fellow magician lose his power forever. Yet he knew that Malaban had misused the magic and no longer deserved to possess it. “Once a sorcerer completely loses his magical abilities, they are gone for good, Molly. Even if he returns to our world, Malaban will never regain that ability.”

  “A shame,” Ulric said. “He was once an honorable and loyal magician to King Alexander. His lust for power has both corrupted and doomed him. What a waste.”

  Christopher turned to King Rupert. “What do we do with him now? We can’t leave him here forever.”

  “I suppose not, even if he isn’t a threat anymore.”

  “We should at least take him back through the timedoor,” he said. “I’m sure he’d rather be in his own world even without his magic.”

  King Rupert sighed. “I’ll take him back, but I’m afraid he’ll be of no use stopping Belthasar from attacking.” The King glanced around the cold empty cave, studying the flickering shadows from the dying flames. “I fear that my power will end shortly, too. There is no way Endora can hold out against Belthasar. I might as well sit down next to Malaban for I am surely defeated.”

  Though they didn’t dare speak it, Artemas, Ulric and Mr. Smithers were certain that death and destruction lurked on the other side of the timedoor. Christopher and Molly were equally distraught and felt sorry for King Rupert. All waited anxiously for him to give the word to depart. Then a frail voice broke the silence.

  “I’ll help–if you let me.” Malaban raised his head. His eyes were tired and his face haggard. “I don’t want to be left behind. Please take me back and I promise to talk to Belthasar.”

  King Rupert spun around and glared at the sorcerer. “Do you mean what you say, or is this some trick? I find it difficult to trust you even without your powers.”

  Malaban stood, his frame bent and shaking. “I am a broken man, King Rupert, who deserves neither your trust nor your help,” he said in a strained voice. “But over these last days I have remembered how it felt to be a simple magician, with only stars and potions and loyalty to my king as my priorities. I once had some good in me, and though I can never undo the evil deeds I committed, at least let me make amends,” he begged. A tear rolled down his face. “If I return, Belthasar will relinquish his power to me and I will order the army back to my castle.”

  “You will really do this?” King Rupert asked suspiciously. “As much as I hate to admit it, you are our final hope.”

  “I give you my word. It may not mean much now, but let me back it up with action.”

  As the King gravely considered the matter with Ulric, Artemas warned him that the timedoor would not stay open much longer. They had to act fast.“Very well,” King Rupert decided. “You shall accompany us back to Endora. But we must hurry as Artemas said. The two hours that Belthasar had granted us are nearly up. The timedoor will close soon after that. So onward!” he shouted with renewed hope. “To Endora! I have one last chance to save my people!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A Flight through Time

  Mr. Smithers parked his car in back of the diner. The doors opened and seven figures piled out into the still November night. Shadowy shapes walked to the river bridge, exchanging bits of whispered conversation and exhaling frosty breaths that rose like ghosts into the starry sky. Thin winds rustled dried grass and sent decaying leaves scraping across the road.

  One by one they stepped through the timedoor b
eneath the bridge. Moments later they were standing in Artemas’ chamber as the early morning sun climbed in the wintry skies over Endora. King Rupert immediately rushed off to find his court messengers, dispatching several into the field to contact Belthasar. They were to inform him that a second parley was requested. With that task completed, King Rupert invited his companions and Malaban to his private chamber where they awaited Belthasar’s reply. Their hopes wavered on the edge between glorious success and final destruction.

  Time still remained in the two hours that Belthasar had given the King. So after receiving his message for another parley, he agreed to meet King Rupert in the castle. The messengers escorted Belthasar in grim silence, taking him directly to the chamber.

  “Your King is probably ready to surrender,” Belthasar taunted. “That will save me the trouble of launching a very nasty battle.” He glanced around at the spacious passageways and wickedly grinned. “Very soon this will all be mine. The reign of King Rupert is over.”

  The door to the King’s chamber was open and Belthasar stepped inside. A large crackling fire warmed the room. King Rupert, Artemas and Ulric sat at a long table along with Christopher, Molly and Mr. Smithers. A few of the King’s guardsmen stood at attention nearby. When Belthasar saw their bleak expressions, he felt certain they were ready to surrender. Then he noticed a thin ragged figure huddled next to the King. Belthasar looked closer and gasped.

  “You seem unsure of yourself,” King Rupert calmly remarked. “Is something troubling you?”

  “I– I can’t believe my eyes!” Belthasar said. The sight of Malaban made his senses reel. “How can this be?” He cautiously approached Malaban and studied his careworn face. “He is obviously an impostor!” Belthasar scoffed. “This is some magician’s trick to deceive me! You won’t get away with it.”

  “This is no trick,” King Rupert assured his stunned adversary. “Malaban has returned.”

  After a few more moments studying his face, Belthasar concluded that Malaban was indeed sitting before him. And though a part of him seemed pleased that his leader was back safe and sound, part of him was also dismayed that he would no longer be in charge of the army stationed outside. Belthasar pondered the situation until a faint smile appeared on his face. Perhaps there still existed a way to make his Great Plan succeed.

  Belthasar rushed to Malaban’s side and bowed before him. “I am so happy to see you safe, my leader! Tell me, has King Rupert treated you cruelly during your imprisonment?” Everyone at the table looked appalled at such a statement, but before anyone could refute his words, Belthasar spoke again. “Now that you are free, my great leader, return with me to my camp outside. From there you can command the army I have assembled. Together we will destroy this castle and avenge the evil King Rupert has inflicted upon you! We must hurry!” he shouted, his eyes burning red with rage. “Hurry before the King’s men slay us where we stand!”

  Unfortunately for his plans, Belthasar plainly saw that his false warnings did not persuade Malaban in the least. He grew frightened and felt his power slipping away.

  “Please have a seat, Belthasar,” King Rupert said, offering him a chair next to Malaban. “We wish to talk to you about the current situation.”

  The peaceful attitude on the King’s behalf enraged Belthasar even further. He ignored King Rupert and pleaded with Malaban. “What is the matter, my leader? Have they cast a spell over you? Surely you will not sit idly by and let them take charge over us. We must conquer these monsters while we still have a chance!”

  Malaban took Belthasar’s hand and shook his head sadly. “Sit,” he said. Belthasar, realizing he had no other choice, grudgingly obliged his leader and sat down.

  Christopher and Molly watched the proceedings in fascination. Though Belthasar had once proved to be an alarming and outspoken character, he now appeared quite shaken. They couldn’t begin to imagine what King Rupert had in store for him.

  “Belthasar, your leader entered my chamber out of his own free will,” the King said. “He was never my prisoner. And now he wishes to talk to you.” King Rupert kindly nodded to Malaban.

  “Belthasar, you have always been my most loyal soldier,” the sorcerer said in a calming voice. “Though I’m sure you tried your best to run things while I was gone, I have now returned to take over my command. I’m not sure what has happened in my absence, but you can inform me when we return to the castle.”

  “Return?” Belthasar cried. “But I have prepared my army–your army–to attack! We cannot leave without a battle, my leader.”

  “There will be no battle,” Malaban said. He looked patiently into Belthasar’s confused eyes. “I have made some mistakes in the past. There was no need for an attack then or now. I have guided you unwisely over the years. It is time to change our ways.”

  Belthasar turned as white as the snow and slammed his fist on the table, startling the others. He jumped to his feet. “How can you say this? How can you do this to me? We will never have total power if we don’t attack! It would be a disgrace to withdraw now, to return to our castle like a pack of defeated dogs!”

  “Nonsense!” Malaban said, standing and facing him eye to eye. “What reasons have we to assault King Rupert’s land in the first place?” Belthasar could not answer. “Our actions in the past were wrong. So are the plans you have made for this day. In my desire for power I did much evil, and sadly I see that I have led you down that same path.” Malaban slapped his hand upon the table. “All such dishonorable behavior ends here and now! We will retreat to our castle in shame, though much work will be done to make amends. Is that clear?”

  Belthasar glared at Malaban, his limbs quivering in rage. All that he had built up was now being snatched away. He was not even given a proper chance to explain himself to Malaban. Belthasar slumped down in his seat. All seemed lost.

  “How can you do this to me?” he muttered bitterly. “I’ve kept the troops together in your absence, and now you repay me by crushing my chance for victory.” He looked up at Malaban, pleading for a reason. “What made you change, my leader?”

  Malaban sighed, rubbing the weariness from his eyes. “I’m not changing, Belthasar. I’m simply returning to the way I used to be. All the power I accumulated had blinded me to who I really was. I misused that power, and so it was taken away from me. Only then did I realize I had gone wickedly astray.” Malaban looked kindly at Christopher and Molly. “These two children helped me see the error of my ways. They knew what was right all along.”

  “Their advice has proved most sensible in many instances,” King Rupert remarked. “Christopher and Molly will be sorely missed when they return to their world.”

  Malaban smiled at them and turned to the King. “And now I must return to my own land, King Rupert. I shall order my troops to turn around immediately and we will never bother you again. I am truly sorry for the suffering we have caused your people.”

  “Well, I am not!” shouted Belthasar, springing to his feet. He rushed to the doorway. “I will never return with you, Malaban! Total domination is within your grasp, but you are too foolish to take it. Now you are sentenced to a pitiful existence for the rest of your days,” he said with contempt for the old man. “I will fend for myself from now on, but I promise you this. One day I will rise again to power and crush you all!”

  Belthasar rushed out of the chamber with a shrill laugh and slammed the door. Before the King’s guards could reach him, Belthasar pulled out a dagger at his side and shoved it underneath the door to jam it shut. Then he bounded through the castle corridors and disappeared.

  King Rupert signaled to his guards. “Open that door at once and have a search party track him down. As long as Belthasar is on the loose, he’s still a menace!” The guards charged at the door and it burst open and began their chase. King Rupert then addressed Malaban. “Now, my friend, we must deal with the army gathered outside my castle. I won’t believe this ordeal is over until I see every last soldier marching back across the plains!�
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  A short time later, as King Rupert had wished, Malaban stepped out onto a balcony overlooking the brown fields in front of the castle. His soldiers below were amazed to see their former leader standing there. They cheered at his return and eagerly listened as he told them about his change of heart. “There will be no war against Endora!” he loudly proclaimed.

  Many of the troops shouted in delight, for the idea of another battle had grown distasteful to them during their cold and tiring journey to Endora. Most of the men wanted only to return home in peace and wait out the winter months in their own castle. Many panicked though, especially the scores of trolls and goblins who were loyal to Belthasar. Ever since he had appointed two of their kind to be leaders, the trolls and goblins hoped to secure a castle of their own someday. Now their eyes widened in terror as their plans for conquest disintegrated in front of them. Many fled across the plains into the neighboring mountains and forests and were never heard from again.

  Malaban left the castle soon after, promising there would never be another war between the two kingdoms as long as he ruled. “Though my time as a leader will be short,” Malaban added, much to King Rupert’s surprise. “I will return to my castle only long enough to undo the damage I have caused there and in the surrounding villages. At the same time I will send out several scouts to locate King Alexander and his son Jeremiah. Alexander is our true leader whom I shamefully banished into the wilderness.”

  “He has not been heard from in years,” King Rupert said. “What will you do if you find him?”

  “I will surrender the castle back to the King upon his return and then await my punishment as he sees fit. I deserve no mercy from him.”

  King Rupert couldn’t believe the words he was hearing and told Malaban he chose the honorable path. He expressed hope for a future filled with peace, and then bid him farewell. Slowly, Malaban climbed onto a horse and led the remaining troops north to his castle. His soldiers trudged silently behind, weaving their way across the grassy plains like a dark strip of ribbon caught in a breeze.