The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series)

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The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series) Page 28

by Thomas J. Prestopnik


  Christopher retrieved the torch from Molly. “Yes, what are you talking about? Molly and I thought you were up to no good, sneaking down here in the dead of night.”

  “You have been rather ill-tempered lately,” Molly said. “Not like you are now.”

  Prince Jeremiah grinned. “Oh, have I?”

  “You’ve been such a grump,” Rosalind added lightheartedly. “Like a whole other person. But now he’s gone and you’re back.”

  “You nearly speak the truth,” Jeremiah said in a grave tone. “There is another person, so to speak, who is controlling events right under our noses. Had you not freed me, I shudder to think of the consequences.”

  “Are you referring to the man who floated across the moat?”

  “So you know about him, Molly.”

  “Christopher and I saw him from the top of the castle three nights ago.”

  “They’ve been quite the little sleuths,” Rosalind said with admiration.

  “I guess there’s something to be said for all that exploring.” Prince Jeremiah took another bite of the apple and stood, feeling strong and steady like his old self. “But the person I refer to is not the individual who sailed across the moat. That man’s name is Morgus Vandar, though he is also involved in this nefarious business.”

  “Tell us who is doing what, and explain why you were behaving so oddly,” Rosalind said in a gentle voice. She stood in front of Jeremiah and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, noting the worry etched upon his face. “What evil has returned to Solárin, my love?”

  Prince Jeremiah clasped his hands together and looked at Christopher, Molly and Rosalind, almost reluctant to speak. He took a step backward and sighed as shadows from the torchlight danced eerily upon the walls.

  “Belthasar is back,” he uttered with disdain. A mix of shock and disbelief swept over the others like a cold wave slapping against rocks. “Or rather his spirit is. And he’s angrier than ever, if indeed that’s possible.”

  Molly’s jaw dropped. “Belthasar? How can that be? He was trapped inside the timedoor and perished when he chased after Christopher and me.”

  “We heard the timedoor close,” Christopher added. “We heard Belthasar’s dying scream inside the stone. There’s no way he could have survived.”

  Jeremiah cast his gaze to the ground, finding it difficult to explain. Now he understood some of the dread the children had faced and was unenthusiastic about bringing old terrors back to life. But he had no choice. Belthasar had to be confronted and defeated once and for all if they were ever to live in peace.

  “He didn’t survive, at least not in the way you expect,” Jeremiah said. “His body was destroyed in the mysterious confines of the timedoor, but his spirit lived on, enduring in the black void, though known to none.”

  “How is that possible?” Rosalind asked.

  “That I cannot answer.”

  “How do you know?” added Christopher. The torch flame sputtered softly as Prince Jeremiah gathered his thoughts.

  “I know,” he said with difficulty, “because his foul spirit has been living inside me for several days.” He held Rosalind’s hand. “That evening we were at your parents’ anniversary party in Endora–”

  “–is when it all began!” Rosalind exclaimed, suddenly seeing the connection. “I knew you had changed then. Your demeanor. Your speech. It was all different. Even the way you looked at me, I… I thought you were another person.”

  “I was.”

  Molly walked up to Jeremiah with her hands on her hips. “I’m still a bit confused, so you’re going to have to explain things a little more clearly. You were never inside the timedoor, so how could Belthasar’s spirit–if it still exists–get inside you?”

  “I was not his first host,” Jeremiah replied. “Your brother Vergil was unfortunately picked for that role.”

  Christopher ran his free hand through his hair, growing angrier as everything started to make sense. “Belthasar attacked Vergil while we walked through the timedoor! Our brother started to get a little cranky while we were inside. And then his awful behavior at the party…”

  “Well, that explains that,” Molly said, eyeing the prince. “Let me guess. Did Belthasar’s spirit next go into Magic? Our dog was a wild tornado once Vergil calmed down.”

  “You’re quite perceptive, Molly. That’s exactly what happened,” Jeremiah said. “Belthasar told me he could freely move from one living being to another while inside the timedoor. But when outside of that realm, he must physically touch another host to pass into it if he chooses. As I helped King Rupert apprehend your pet dog, Belthasar saw his chance and took refuge within me.”

  “And controlled you,” Christopher said flatly.

  Jeremiah nodded. “I’m afraid so. Though I was briefly conscious of his actions on occasion, I was helpless to fight back. His spirit is strong, weaving among the mind, heart and soul like wild weeds. I was a prisoner in my own body. Everything done over the last several days has been at Belthasar’s bidding.”

  “If you were aware of his actions only for brief moments, how did you learn this information?” Rosalind asked.

  “That’s where Morgus Vandar comes in. He helped Malaban and Belthasar when they first took over my father’s kingdom. He recruited goblins and trolls from the mountains, among other things.”

  “A greedy mercenary!” Rosalind scoffed.

  “Some people will do anything for money,” Christopher said. “Our world is full of people like that.”

  “And others who simply want the power,” Jeremiah added.

  “That sums up Belthasar through and through,” Molly said. “But how does Morgus Vandar fit into the picture this time?”

  “Belthasar hired him again and uses Vandar as a host to travel to the villages and implement his plans to take over the kingdom. I was given a demonstration when his spirit exited my body and inhabited Vandar’s. He couldn’t help but brag about wanting to retake the kingdom. Though what the specifics of his plans are, I do not know.”

  “Why does he need another host when he has you?” Christopher asked.

  “I suppose it is easier for Belthasar to roam anonymously as Morgus Vandar than as the prince of Solárin at this stage of his operation.”

  “Until the coronation takes places,” cautioned Rosalind. “Then that parasite will need only you to do whatever he wants. Belthasar would have complete control of the kingdom without drawing one sword or firing a single arrow.”

  “We won’t let that happen, Prince Jeremiah,” Molly said defiantly.

  “That I can promise you, young lady. I would sooner die than allow the likes of Belthasar to lay claim to this kingdom.”

  Rosalind shuddered at Jeremiah’s cold words, but was glad he didn’t see her reaction in the inky shadows. She knew he needed her undivided support and she intended to give it to him.

  Christopher glanced at the wooden crate against the wall and scratched his head. “One thing I don’t understand is the items Belthasar apparently placed in that box. The ropes and strip of cloth were used to tie and gag you, but why did he put apples and bread in there too?”

  “I can only guess,” Jeremiah said, “but I believe when Belthasar passes from one host to another it weakens him somewhat–tires him out. He realized this and usually eats something to regain his strength when he returns from his travels, usually before dawn.”

  “That explains one mystery,” Molly said. “But now we have another. If Belthasar has been controlling you since your return to Solárin, then he ordered those workmen to tear down part of the castle wall.” Prince Jeremiah looked stunned as Molly explained the situation. “I can’t believe his wedding present story anymore.”

  “He obviously said that to hide the truth from us,” Christopher said.

  “But why would he tear the wall down in the first place?”

  “We shall find out right now,” Jeremiah said, indicating for Christopher to lead the way up the stairs with the torch. “To t
he storage room at once.”

  “Could we first make a quick detour to the map room?” Christopher asked.

  “What’s in there?” Rosalind inquired.

  “Another so-called wedding present for you. Prince Jeremiah, er, um–Belthasar–gave it to me to hide one day because you were walking by. I hid it in a drawer.”

  “I can’t even imagine what it would be,” Rosalind said in a prickly tone.

  “Then let’s make that our first stop,” Jeremiah ordered as they bounded up the stairs.

  Rosalind hastily lit a few candles in the map room, illuminating scores of charts and maps strewn throughout the room and hanging upon the walls. Several rolled up maps cluttered one shelf, and next to that stood an oak cabinet containing a series of long narrow drawers. Christopher opened the bottom drawer and removed the gift he had hidden, handing it to Rosalind.

  “It certainly looks pretty on the outside,” she said, admiring the dark blue cloth wrapping and the gold ribbon.

  “No doubt deadly on the inside, if I know Belthasar,” Jeremiah said.

  The contents felt soft and light to Rosalind as she carefully untied the gold ribbon, believing it might be an item of clothing. She let the ribbon fall to the floor and unwrapped the blue cloth. Another piece of material lay inside, neatly folded and as black as coal. Rosalind unfurled it and held it up by a corner for all to see. Everyone cringed at the sight–a rectangular piece of black cloth with a blood red border.

  “Malaban’s flag!” Molly shouted, recalling it flying above Princess Rosalind’s prison tower. “He must have hired someone to sew a new one for him.”

  “I never thought I’d see this hideous rag again,” Rosalind uttered, visibly upset. She gathered the cloth in a bundle and threw it on the floor. “The flag of a tyrant. I will not touch it again.”

  “So Belthasar thinks he will fly his banner over your castle once more,” Christopher said. “He better rethink that plan.”

  Jeremiah nodded. “We shall deal with this matter shortly. Let’s first hasten to the storage room and see what other ill deeds Belthasar has planned,” he said as he stormed out the door.

  “Time for a little castle cleaning!” Molly added, pumping her fists as she eagerly followed him into the hallway. “Someone get me a broom!”

  Prince Jeremiah unlocked the iron door leading to the storage room and then grabbed a torch and led the way downstairs. He lit another torch at the bottom of the steps and handed it to Christopher to light the remaining ones affixed to the walls. A handful of moths appeared and fluttered above the flames, dancing on the warm currents of air in a controlled frenzy.

  “Those little fellows must’ve gotten trapped in here after the workmen resealed the wall,” Molly said. She pointed out the new mortar lines between the stones which the prince carefully examined.

  “All this work and for what purpose?” Jeremiah asked aloud.

  “For this,” Christopher said, pointing to a huge wooden crate standing in the middle of the room among the barrels of apples and dried meat. He had just lit a few more torches, illuminating the room as if with a blast of summer sunshine. Molly, Rosalind and Jeremiah spun around to examine the new find.

  The crate, rising a foot off the ground, was a few inches taller than Prince Jeremiah and equally as long, and it was as wide as a grown man’s arm. Christopher walked around it, rapping the wooden sides with his knuckles. He wondered how the men brought such a huge item into the room before glancing down and noticing several sets of thick wooden wheels attached on either side of the crate with a series of metal axles.

  “So this was supposedly my other wedding present?” Rosalind said as she eyed the giant crate curiously. “I wonder what mischief Belthasar has boxed up in here to go with his odious flag.”

  “Let’s find out,” Jeremiah said, spotting a crowbar lying on the ground against the wall. “The workmen must have left it here so Belthasar could open this monstrosity someday.”

  Prince Jeremiah grabbed the crowbar and started to pry off the wooden slats from one of the narrow sides of the crate. Rusty iron nails creaked and groaned as each one stubbornly pulled away from top to bottom, until finally the first strip of wood popped off. The inside was stuffed with dried straw. Christopher carefully moved the first board out of harm’s way as Jeremiah attacked the next piece. One by one he pried them off until the four boards on that side were removed.

  “Let me have a go at it,” Christopher said as Jeremiah paused to wipe his brow.

  “Be my guest.” He handed over the crowbar. “Knock out those short pieces.”

  Christopher went to work on the small lengths of wood fastened up and down the side of the crate like the rungs of a ladder. He wielded the crowbar like a hammer, though it took more muscle than he anticipated to dislodge the securely nailed pieces.

  “Put some oomph into it!” Molly wisecracked.

  “Like you– could do– any better!” he grunted between each swing.

  Everyone stepped back when the first piece flew into the air and tumbled to the ground. The side nails remained stuck into the crate, so Christopher pounded them out by their points and they fell to the ground in a series of dull clinks.

  “I think Jeremiah had the easier task,” Rosalind said. “Don’t overexert yourself, Christopher. Take a rest if you need to.”

  “I’m okay, Princess Rosalind. Only five more pieces to go.”

  “Let me give it a try,” Molly said.

  “I think not,” he replied. “You may be a good runner, but I have the muscles in the family.”

  “Yeah, and I have a million dollars in the bank,” she added dryly.

  Christopher proceeded to dismantle the remaining side pieces. Each whack of the crowbar echoed dully off the stone walls. Molly plugged her ears when the noise began to bother her, but Christopher finally removed the last piece on the bottom and set the crowbar down, exhaling deeply.

  “That was a workout,” he said with a grin.

  “A job well done!” Jeremiah examined the exposed side of the crate, stuffed solid with straw like a scarecrow. “Let’s see what’s behind all this packing,” he added, grabbing a handful of straw and tossing it on the ground.

  “This I can help with!” Molly said, eagerly ripping out clumps of straw with both her hands and throwing it behind her like confetti. “Actually it’s kind of fun.”

  “Just watch where you’re aiming,” Christopher warned as he and Princess Rosalind jumped out of her line of fire.

  In no time, Molly and Jeremiah removed most of the straw from the side opening, revealing a black emptiness within. Jeremiah motioned for Christopher to step forward.

  “Shine the torchlight closer to the opening so I can see what’s inside.”

  Christopher held the torch right up to the crate so that a dark curve of an object was visible. Jeremiah stuck his hand inside and tapped the object with his knuckles. Solid iron. He slid his fingers along the metal and a chill ran through him.

  “What is it?” Rosalind asked, watching the color drain from his face.

  “If I’m not mistaken, this is a new vault door,” he said bitterly. “Belthasar must have had a team of smithies working day and night to create it so fast.”

  “He really does intend to take over the castle and make everything as it was before,” Christopher said.

  “How do we stop him?” Molly asked.

  Prince Jeremiah slapped the side of the crate. “The first thing I do is alert Darius, my chief guard, about the goings-on in this place,” he said. “Then we arrest Belthasar when he returns at dawn and–”

  The metal door at the top of the stairs suddenly flew open, slamming against the stone wall. Everyone looked up and saw Morgus Vandar and three other men armed with swords.

  “If you hadn’t been busy nosing around my castle,” Morgus sneered, “you would have already alerted your chief guard while I was still gone. But, then, you haven’t been yourself lately, have you.”

  Jeremiah
sighed with contempt. “And to what do I owe this late night visit from you and your thugs?”

  “Thugs?” he said with feigned surprise. “Why, these are some of the new advisors you recently appointed, Prince Jeremiah. I rounded them up after I returned and discovered you had escaped.”

  Jeremiah scoffed. “Did you run out of evil deeds to plot and plan tonight? You usually don’t come back until the crack of dawn.”

  “Well, tomorrow is a special day for me,” Morgus said with an annoying lilt in his voice as he slowly walked down the stairs. “I need to get a good night’s rest. After all, I’m going to be crowned King of Solárin in the afternoon. And what a treat that will be, don’t you think?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Promise

  “You will never be crowned King,” Jeremiah said in a low harsh voice. “Not of Solárin. Not of anything!”

  “You are sadly mistaken,” Morgus Vandar replied, his body overwhelmed by the spirit of Belthasar. “I will be King, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.” He paused on the bottom step and raised an index finger. “All that’s required is a simple touch and the great Belthasar will be in the right place–and in the right person–when it is time to assume control of this kingdom.”

  Princess Rosalind scoffed. “You overrate yourself, Belthasar. Lesser creatures in the world, merely by breathing, contribute more to life than you ever will.”

  “A garden slug comes to mind,” Christopher said.

  “Or any slimy thing crawling out from under a rock,” Molly added, her chin jutted out and a scowl upon her face.

  “Are those feeble taunts supposed to hurt me?” Morgus replied, stepping onto the floor.

  “No, but this might!” Jeremiah grabbed the crowbar and raised it in the air, causing Morgus to halt his advance. Christopher jumped to Jeremiah’s side, brandishing the torch. The three men accompanying Morgus ran down the stairs and drew their swords, but he held them back with a wave of his hand.

  “No need to get violent. No need to lose our tempers,” he said, smiling like a snake. “Can’t we discuss this like mature adults?”

 

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