The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “A week will be long enough,” Mr. Jordan said, anticipating an adventure beyond his wildest imaginings. “All my life I’ve been fascinated with past civilizations. Now it will be as if we’re traveling back in time to actually visit one. Maybe I will write a book when this is over.”

  “Before you can type the first sentence, Dad, we need to get there. So let’s go!” Christopher said. “I can’t wait to get back.”

  “Me too!” Molly added as she petted Magic, whose tail wagged like a sock pinned to a clothesline on a blustery day.

  “Very well,” their father said, almost unable to believe what was about to happen. “Are you ready, Sally?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, scooping up Vergil.

  “Then lead on, Artemas! Give us the grand tour of Endora.”

  “Follow me,” he said as Molly again shined the flashlight on the timedoor. He confidently stepped through the bridge support and the folds of his cloak disappeared through the wavy wall of stone.

  “Really amazing…” Mr. Jordan uttered under his breath.

  Flashing a smile, Christopher entered next, urging the others to follow with a wave of his arm. Molly locked a finger around Magic’s collar and passed through the timedoor with him. The dog paused only for a moment when the tip of his nose first poked through, but Molly whispered a few encouraging words and Magic accompanied her with no fear. Mr. Jordan placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder as she and Vergil stepped through the timedoor next and accompanied them every step of the way.

  A sea of stars swirled around as if they were sailing the ocean on a clear and moonless night. Though the ground below was solid, they could see nothing but stars and blackness. Even the flashlight beam was eaten up in the void.

  “How long does this journey last?” Mrs. Jordan asked, clutching Vergil with all her might.

  “Only a few moments,” Artemas assured her. “It may seem longer since you’re probably a little disoriented and a lot overwhelmed. But we shall be back safely in my chamber in King Rupert’s castle in no time.”

  “Magic doesn’t appear to be bothered,” Molly happily remarked. “But he likes to stay outdoors all night long in warmer weather anyway. Nothing fazes him.”

  Suddenly Vergil twisted uncomfortably in his mother’s arms like an animal snared in a hunter’s trap. He tried to break free of her grip.

  “What’s the matter, Vergil?”

  “I want to get down. I want to walk the rest of the way. I’m not a baby!”

  “We’re almost there, sweetheart. You can walk once we get inside the castle,” his mother promised. “I don’t let you run around in the grocery store, so I’m certainly not giving you free rein inside a magical timedoor.”

  “Your mother’s right,” Mr. Jordan said, tousling Vergil’s hair. “Hang on, son. We’re almost there.”

  “But I want to walk!” he muttered, punctuating his defiance with a grunt.

  “You’re just tired,” Mrs. Jordan whispered into his ear. “You should have taken a nap after you came home from school like I told you to.”

  “Hey, it’s getting lighter up ahead,” Christopher said. “We’re almost there.”

  “Just in time for King Rupert and Queen Eleanor’s anniversary party,” Artemas reminded them. “What a celebration that will be.”

  “I can’t wait!” Molly said. “Actually I’m quite hungry. I was too excited to eat dinner earlier. And Magic is always hungry. He’ll love to have a treat when we get there.”

  Quickly the blackness dissipated, the stars faded and whirls of gray and white appeared ahead of them. “The light at the end of the tunnel,” Mr. Jordan softly said to no one in particular. He watched in amazement as Artemas disappeared into the gauzy light, followed by Christopher, Molly and Magic. Then as if floating out of a soft summer’s dream, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan and Vergil passed through the end of the timedoor and stepped onto the solid stone floor of Artemas’ chamber.

  “We’re really here!” Molly said, twirling around to soak in the sight. “I never thought I’d ever see this room again, Artemas.”

  “You left in quite a hurry last time you were here,” he replied, recalling their harrowing flight from Belthasar. “But I trust this stay will be much more pleasant.”

  “Now can I get down?” Vergil snapped, struggling to get out of his mother’s arms. “You’re squishing me.”

  “Okay, young man. No need to throw a fit,” she remarked as she lowered Vergil to the floor.

  He immediately ran about the room in a whirlwind, scouring through a table cluttered with glass vials of powders and potions, and nearly knocked over Artemas’ overloaded coat tree before Mr. Jordan grabbed his son and raised him into the air.

  “Slow down, Verg! This isn’t a playground. You’ll behave or we’ll turn right around and go home this instant.” Mr. Jordan set him on the floor again but held firmly onto Vergil’s hand. “Manners please.”

  “Apparently he’s a bit overwhelmed by the journey,” Mrs. Jordan said. “Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea.”

  “Oh, he’ll be fine,” Christopher said without much concern. “Give him a few minutes to get used to the place. Just look at how well behaved Magic is, and he’s always a bundle of energy when we visit a new place.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Well, Artemas, I see this room hasn’t changed one iota since we were last here,” Molly said, observing the cluttered and cozy surroundings. The fireplace crackled and warmed the room, and if it were possible, the series of shelves around the chamber walls seemed even more stuffed with parchment scrolls, ink bottles and quill pens than ever before. Molly grinned from ear to ear. “And I love it just the way it is!”

  “Well, young lady,” Artemas said with a gleam in his eyes, “one thing in Endora has indeed changed since your last visit. Follow me.”

  The magician led them to the set of double doors leading out onto his stone balcony overlooking the lands to the north. He flung the doors wide open and a burst of sunshine flooded the room, followed by swells of warm breezes dripping with the honey-sweet scent of bayla blossom and pine. It was the twentieth day of spring in Endora and on this particular day the season was at the height of its splendor. They walked outside and soaked in the beauty of the moment.

  “It’s so warm,” Molly whispered as the breeze caressed her face like the touch of a soft hand. “This alone is worth the trip.”

  Spring had arrived in Endora and all the lands below were painted in shades of emerald, olive and mossy green. Glistening snow still tipped the mountain tops in the west, but on the plains and in the valley, the streams gushed to their banks, trees budded and bloomed, and gardens awoke to the swish of tall grass and the drone of honey bees.

  “Winter faded earlier than usual this year,” Artemas said, “which pleased nearly everybody. Particularly me,” he added, indicating his telescope standing in the corner of the balcony covered with a piece of canvas. “It’s much more pleasant to observe the stars when cold air doesn’t nip at your skin like a hungry wolf.”

  “I could stand here for an hour,” Mrs. Jordan said, her hands resting on the railing as she soaked in the stunning view.

  “But I don’t think Vergil could,” her husband replied, pulling the boy back from the railing to keep him from peering over it.

  “I just want to see what’s down there!” he cried.

  “A long fall!” Mr. Jordan snapped as he carried Vergil inside.

  “I think we should go now,” Artemas said. “The party is already underway and this lovely weather will linger for several days. You’ll get your fill. Now follow me!”

  King Rupert and Queen Eleanor had been married for thirty glorious years and decided to celebrate the occasion with a party the likes of which the castle had not seen in some time. The event was held in the King’s chamber, the large circular hall where Christopher and Molly surprised the King and his wife four years ago after slipping past the castle guards. The room was
lavished with food and decorations, and guests from all over the kingdom and nearby lands were in attendance. Floral garlands stretched from one marble pillar to the next, and wreathes of white daises and spring berries hung below each flaming torch and above the massive stone fireplace. The large oak table usually in the middle of the chamber had been moved to one side, now laden with platters of roasted meats and vegetables, cheeses and breads, and plates of pastries to please even the fussiest eater. Standing grandly in the center of the table, surrounded by bowls of apple and plum punch, was a five-tier anniversary cake, smothered in white frosting and garnished with spring berries and mint leaves. Smaller dining tables had been set up around the room so everyone could feast on the mouthwatering fare.

  “Just when I thought I couldn’t be any more impressed!” Mrs. Jordan gushed as she was escorted into the King’s chamber.

  “King Rupert spared no expense for the celebration,” Artemas said. “After all, he is honoring his wife, and she is quite worthy of such a fuss.”

  “Remember that, Sam, when our thirtieth anniversary rolls around,” Mrs. Jordan said with a wink.

  “Subtle hint duly noted,” her husband replied.

  Breaking through the crowd of partygoers, King Rupert and Queen Eleanor strolled up to the front of the chamber to meet the new arrivals. Their faces glowed with wonder and delight.

  “These can’t be the same two daring and resourceful children who graced my castle four years ago,” King Rupert uttered in amazement when noticing how much Christopher and Molly had grown.

  “The very same!” Molly shouted as she ran up to King Rupert and hugged him like he was her own grandfather. His silvery head of hair glowed with the reflection of sunshine from the upper chamber windows.

  “I hesitate to call them children anymore,” Queen Eleanor added, dressed in her finest gown of green and gold. Sprigs of white daisies were woven through her flowing red hair. “My, but you both have sprouted like wild sunflowers in a farmer’s field!”

  “I’m almost as tall as Christopher,” Molly proudly replied.

  “Not even close,” Christopher whispered to the King and Queen as he greeted them.

  Artemas quickly introduced Queen Eleanor to the rest of the Jordan family, and the King welcomed them to his castle as if they were long lost relatives. “You were probably too young to remember when your brother and sister first visited our world,” he said to Vergil who still clung to his father’s hand and hopped around like a restless rabbit.

  “I want some cake!” he muttered. “Isn’t this supposed to be a party?”

  “Vergil!” his mother said, scolding him with a stern look. “I won’t have any more of that attitude from you.” She looked up at King Rupert and his wife, flushed with embarrassment. “I apologize for Vergil’s little outburst, but he’s been a bit edgy since we arrived here.”

  “No need to apologize. I understand perfectly,” Queen Eleanor said with a smile. “Children and traveling don’t always mix. The stories I could tell about my Rosalind.” She and King Rupert laughed knowingly at one another.

  “Where is our little one by the way?” the King wondered aloud, craning his neck as he scanned the room. Then he spotted Rosalind near the fireplace with another man and signaled for them to approach.

  After Molly introduced Princess Rosalind to her family, she told her she looked even more beautiful than the day they rescued her from Malaban’s fortress. “I wish my hair was as nice as yours, Princess Rosalind. I’m letting it grow longer now that I’m in middle school,” she said, swishing a hand through her blond locks.

  Christopher rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. “Maybe you could find another time to discuss beauty secrets, Molly.” He shook his head and greeted the princess. “Nice to see you again.”

  “I’m pleased to see you too, Christopher.” Princess Rosalind held the hand of the dark-haired gentleman standing next to her and introduced him to the Jordan family. “I want you all to meet my fiancé, Prince Jeremiah. We’re to be married this summer.”

  “That’s great!” Molly cheered. “And a prince? How did you two meet?”

  “It’s a long story and I’ll tell you someday when we have more time,” she promised. “Jeremiah is King Alexander’s son.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you all. Rosalind has told me so much about your adventures together,” Jeremiah said with a mix of sadness and gratitude etched in his sky blue eyes. “Were it not for Christopher and Molly, my father might not have regained his kingdom.”

  “Where’s your father?” Mr. Jordan asked.

  “He has been quite ill of late and has remained in Solárin. His health has never been right since his exile.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Jordan said.

  “Where’s Solárin?” Molly asked.

  “That’s the name of my father’s kingdom in the Pine Crest Valley,” he explained.

  “That’s where we traveled to through the cold and dreary winter on our rescue mission,” King Rupert said. “The name was rarely spoken during the time of Malaban’s iron rule. But those dark days are over and relations between our two kingdoms are as strong as ever. The proof stands before you.”

  Rosalind and Jeremiah smiled at one another as they held hands, knowing they had so much happiness to discover in the days ahead. Then Vergil stomped his foot in anger and broke away from his father’s grip. He stormed right between Rosalind and Jeremiah, separating them briefly before tearing through the crowd. He flew toward the food table like a ravenous wolf on a cold winter night.

  “That boy!” Mrs. Jordan said, making a beeline toward her son as Magic excitedly followed.

  “That brother!” Molly whispered with an exasperated sigh.

  Mrs. Jordan weaved her way through the partygoers and latched onto Vergil’s wrist an instant before he could comb his fingers through the bottom layer of the anniversary cake.

  “Don’t even think it, young man!” she warned, casting a stare that would refreeze ice.

  “But I want–”

  Mrs. Jordan picked up Vergil and carried him off to one side of the fireplace and sat him on the floor. “I don’t care what you want, Vergil. You have crossed the line, mister!” she whispered sternly as she knelt on one knee. “I can excuse your behavior only so far, what with a long day at school and then passing through a timedoor without a nap. But enough is enough.” Magic tried to wedge his nose between them and then sat down and obediently observed. Mrs. Jordan petted him on the head. “Look how nicely Magic is behaving, Vergil, and he can’t even have cake.” She glanced back at her husband who was still talking with King Rupert and the others.

  “I’m–sorry,” Vergil grunted with little conviction. “Okay?”

  “Yes, well that apology and a nickel still add up to five cents.” She rubbed his shoulders, kissed him on the forehead and stood up. “You sit right here, Vergil, out of harm’s way, and keep Magic company. Let me talk to your father for a moment about making an early exit from this party. We’ll find a place where you can rest for a bit, okay, honey?”

  “Sure…”

  “Magic, you stay with Vergil, okay? Stay now. Stay,” she said as she slipped away.

  Magic lay down next to Vergil and rested his head on the boy’s leg, yawning once before closing his eyes half way. Vergil plopped one hand on Magic’s back and half-heartedly petted the dog. As he leaned against the wall, his head rocking from side to side, Vergil thought the room was an enormous chamber full of mumbling, walking giants. He could hear the drone of their talk but couldn’t understand the words. He felt dizzy, tired and confused, wanting to sleep so much, but unable to do so. Vergil rubbed his hand through the soft fur on Magic’s back, feeling a tingle of static electricity on the tips of his fingers. He shuddered in the next instant, feeling as if an icy blast of winter wind had slapped his face.

  Vergil yanked his hand away as if from a hot stove. He sat up straight and breathed deeply, realizing he could once again unders
tand the words everyone spoke. His head cleared and a restful peace overtook his mind and body. Vergil felt he could fall asleep right here on the floor. He was hungry, but not ravenously so, and he wanted his mother back at his side.

  In that same instant, Magic bolted upright as if a cat had walked in front of his face. He pricked up his ears and scratched his claws against the stone floor, grunting and growling and sniffing the air with wary suspicion.

  “What’s wrong, Magic?” Vergil asked sleepily. “You should lie down until Mom and Dad come back for us. That’s what I’m going to do.” He tried to pet the dog, but Magic pulled away with a snarl. “Okay, be that way. I don’t care much for taking naps either, but right now there’s nothing else I’d rather do. I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

  Magic grunted a few more times, now agitated and restless. He looked around the room at the parade of people wandering back and forth, all talking and laughing as if nothing in the world mattered to them.

  “Now don’t you start acting up,” Vergil said. “Mom will really have a fit. Better sit here with me.” He attempted to take hold of Magic’s collar, but the dog yanked his head back with a fury, stinging the boy’s fingers as they scraped over the leather strap. “Hey!” he shouted, but Magic paid no attention as he sprang up and bolted through the crowd like a fox after a hen.

  Magic blazed a trail under tables and over empty chairs, upsetting dishes and goblets and vases of flowers. He zipped around the legs of unsuspecting partygoers, spinning them around like wobbly tops or making them jump and stumble as if participating in an ungainly dance. He barked and snarled as if pursing a pack of squirrels or a trio of cats, leaving a trail of flying food and spilled drinks in his wake.

  “Oh dear!” Mrs. Jordan cried when hearing the commotion, fearing that Vergil had gone totally berserk. She felt only slightly better when she saw that Magic was at the center of this storm while Vergil sat half asleep against the wall on the other side of the room.

  “If it’s not kids, it’s dogs!” Mr. Jordan muttered, apologizing with a shake of his head to King Rupert and Queen Eleanor.