The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “Trying to find a way out,” he replied, still counting off the paces. “…seven, eight. There, that should be enough space to build up a little momentum. Hopefully it will be sufficient,” he said to no one in particular.

  Rosalind leaned over and whispered to Molly. “Do you have any idea what he’s trying to accomplish?”

  “Not a clue,” she replied, jumping up and running to her brother. “Okay, we give up, Chris, and you have us mildly intrigued. What are you doing?”

  “Taking matters into my own hands,” he said excitedly. “But I’ll need help from both of you. Take your seat, Molly, and I’ll explain.”

  “Who do you think you are–my teacher?”

  “Oh, sit down and keep the wisecracks to yourself for once. This is important.”

  Molly plopped back onto one of the grain sacks as Christopher marched toward the crate and leaned against it with one hand. He stood there with the authority of a science teacher about to lecture his students.

  “Tell us your plan,” Rosalind said. “I’m excited to hear the details.”

  “Yes, professor, I’m so eager to learn,” Molly added sarcastically.

  “Keep up that attitude, young lady, and it’s detention for you,” he said with a chuckle.

  Molly glanced at Princess Rosalind and raised an eyebrow. “I have to live with him.”

  “Shhh!” Rosalind whispered before nodding to Christopher to proceed. Molly folded her arms and slumped in her seat.

  “Very well. Now that I have your attention, here’s what I think we should do,” he said, rubbing his hands with glee. He pointed to the vault crate and then to the section of the castle wall directly ahead of it. “One–a big iron wheel. Two–a castle wall that has recently been torn down and rebuilt. The mortar is probably still setting.” Christopher next waved a finger at all three of them. “And three–the work crew. A little rockin’ and rollin’ from us and this wheel sails right into that wall and–SMASH! We’re out of here!”

  Molly slapped her head. “Are you saying we push that vault door–that enormously heavy iron vault door–and send it crashing into the wall?”

  “Yes,” Christopher replied with a straight face.

  “And I suppose it will bust a hole right through so we can escape like rats off a sinking ship.”

  “Yes again. Except for the rats part.” He glanced at Rosalind, wrinkling his brow. “Where’d she come up with that image?”

  “Vivid imagination,” she replied with a grin.

  “And what if it tips over while it’s rooooolling across the floor?” asked Molly.

  “It’s wide and steady enough for that short distance. It won’t tip.”

  “What if we all get hernias in the process?”

  “We’re pushing it, Molly, not lifting it. Besides, it’s a circle. We just need to give it a little nudge by my calculations and then let inertia do the rest.”

  Molly stood and threw her arms in the air, her face beet red with exaggerated frustration. “Christopher, your plan is ridiculous! And by the way, you sound like you swallowed a science book.”

  “I ate one with gravy for lunch,” he said as he sat on a pile of grain sacks next to Princess Rosalind. He indicated for Molly to calm down. “Quit being such an actress, okay? So maybe the vault door won’t crash through the wall. But I figure we only need to push some of the stones out just a bit. A small impact might loosen them up. I can use the crowbar to bust open a little hole. What have we got to lose? Or can you propose a better plan?”

  Molly was about to speak but went suddenly silent and sat down with a grunt. Princess Rosalind walked over to the crate with a renewed sense of hope.

  “I think your idea is intriguing, Christopher. Very creative. It just might work.”

  “See?” he said softly to Molly. “Princess Rosalind thinks my idea is wonderful.”

  “I heard…” she mumbled.

  “I said it was intriguing,” Rosalind replied. “It will be wonderful if it works. But that will only happen if we cooperate. So I suggest you two set aside your sibling rivalry and let’s get this project underway. There are more important things at stake.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Molly grudgingly admitted. Christopher agreed.

  “Good. So no more doubts about your brother’s idea, Molly, though he may have deserved a jab or two after his sarcastic comments about your poetry during the carriage ride.” Molly perked up, feeling partially justified. “Besides, if Christopher’s idea doesn’t work, you can always say I told you so.”

  Christopher went to work removing the four side pieces from the other end of the crate, opposite the side they had already opened. When finished, he knocked out the small horizontal connecting pieces one by one until only two remained. He warned Molly and Rosalind to step away from the crate before he removed the last ones.

  “When I pop these off, the front and back panels are going to flop down,” he said. “I don’t want either of you to get flattened.”

  Molly led Rosalind to the staircase and they stood on the bottom step. “We’ll be safe over here, Chris. Go ahead and do your thing.”

  Christopher wiped the sweat off his forehead, raised the crowbar and hammered away at the two connecting pieces until they came loose. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then slowly the front and back sections fell in opposite directions like a pair of freefalling drawbridges, groaning as the bottom nails were partially pulled from the base. They plummeted to the floor, followed by a wall of the remaining packing straw that covered them in a feathery heap. Christopher grabbed a handful and tossed it in the air before taking a bow in front of his delighted audience as pieces of straw drifted down and stuck in his hair.

  “Nice job, Chris!” Molly said.

  “A charming display of brute force and elegance,” Princess Rosalind added as she softly applauded.

  She and Molly joined Christopher near the remains of the crate. Everyone looked up at the iron vault door exposed in its cold and cruel ugliness. It was held in place by two triangular chunks of wood wedged at the bottom on either side. These were nailed to the base to keep the door from rolling off the platform.

  “That’s an imposing structure if I ever saw one,” Rosalind said, eyeing several grooves formed in the metal along the face of the door and on one edge. A hole about a foot wide was set in the center. “Apparently they have to attach the locking mechanism and hinge pieces before it’s ready to install.”

  “Since King Alexander died so suddenly, Belthasar must have been pressed for time. He couldn’t accomplish everything he wanted,” Molly reasoned.

  “He’ll never get that chance,” Rosalind assured her.

  Christopher, still gazing at the door, started to laugh. “You know, if you stuck this monster in a park or a museum back in our world, some people would call it art. They might even pay money for it.”

  “Well, I call it our ticket out of here,” Molly said with a determined glint in her eyes. “What do we do next?”

  Christopher, delighted to see that his sister was fully into the spirit of the moment, scurried over to the pile of grain sacks. “First we make a ramp.”

  Rosalind raised a questioning eyebrow. “How do we do that?”

  “Come here and I’ll show you.”

  Christopher directed each of them to take a corner of one grain sack as he grabbed hold of the other side. The three of them placed it next to the narrow edge of the crate. They did this two more times and created a pile of sacks three high so that the top was about even with the base of the crate.

  “I’m still not sure what you’re attempting, Chris. Give me a hint,” Molly said.

  Christopher stopped to allow them a brief rest. “I’m going to make a ramp, Molly, so when we roll the door down it, it’ll pick up speed before crashing into the wall.”

  “Oh…”

  “Watch and learn,” he said, instructing them to help him get three more sacks.

  Two of them were placed on top of eac
h other next to the first pile, and the third grain sack was positioned next to that one. Rosalind nodded, beginning to understand what Christopher had in mind.

  “It looks like a small staircase up to the base of the crate,” Molly said.

  “Exactly. Next we lug over one of the big side panels we knocked down, place it on the grain sacks and–pizza pie! We have a ramp.”

  “Pizza pie?” she muttered.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “And it’s a clever idea,” Rosalind said, “though I fear that sheet of wood will be much heavier than those grain sacks.”

  Christopher grabbed the crowbar and pounded at the nails along the bottom edge of one side piece to free it from the base. “Be extra careful. Dozen of rusty nails are sticking out of this thing. There’s nowhere to get a tetanus shot if you cut yourself.”

  The three grabbed hold of the same edge. On Christopher’s signal, they pulled it across the floor inch by inch until it was lined up on the side of the grain sacks.

  “Now for the hard part,” he said, stretching the kinks out of his back. “We have to lift one end, slide it over and center it on the sacks. Get those arm muscles ready.”

  “They’re ready, if not totally willing,” Rosalind said, scraping a small sliver out of the palm of her hand with a fingernail.

  After a count of one–two–three, Christopher raised the corner nearest the grain sacks while Rosalind and Molly lifted on the opposite corner. Slowly they slid the sheet of wood sideways, with Christopher climbing over the sacks as they did so. Soon it was properly centered in front of the vault door and Christopher gave the signal to lower it. Everyone let go and stood back to admire their creation. The side panel from the crate now lay at a slight angle upon the six grain sacks, forming a crude but sturdy ramp.

  “Now for the hard part,” Christopher repeated.

  “You just said this was the hard part!” Molly halfheartedly complained.

  “It was–for the construction portion of the project. Now it’s time to roll this baby down the ramp to see what she can really do,” he eagerly said, slapping the vault door as if it were a race car. “This metal door wasn’t meant to lock, but roll!”

  “You’re a scientist and a comedian,” Molly said with a yawn, wondering how many hours had drifted by since her bedtime.

  “And how do we accomplish that?” Rosalind inquired, sitting against one of the apple barrels, feeling quite tired herself.

  “I’ll knock out that front wedge under the wheel,” he said, swinging the crowbar like a baseball bat, “and then we’ll all push it until it starts rocking. Once it rolls forward a few inches, it’ll tip off the base and sail down the ramp.”

  “Then we just watch and cross our fingers,” Molly said.

  Her brother nodded. “Pretty much.”

  Before they proceeded with the final phase of the plan, Christopher added one modification. He rolled two of the lightest barrels in the storage room over to the base of the crate, placing one on either side so that Molly and Rosalind could stand on them and help push the vault door. Christopher would stand on the base behind the wheel itself and push from there.

  “I feel as tall as a troll,” Molly said from atop one barrel, determining the best spot on the door to place her hands.

  “Don’t start pushing yet,” Christopher said from below, attempting to pry off the wooden wedge nailed in front.

  “I must admit I’m not in the habit of participating in such laborious activities,” Rosalind said. “My father would be shocked to see his daughter performing this type of work. But I find it rather refreshing, especially under the circumstances.”

  “King Rupert would be proud of you,” Molly said. “Besides, we can’t expect a rescue party to save us this time. Nobody knows we’re in trouble.”

  “Not for long,” Christopher said as he harpooned the crowbar underneath the wedge. As it slowly inched up from the base, he shoved the tip of the crowbar farther underneath and completely lifted it off. “Done!” he exclaimed a moment later, tossing the crowbar and the piece of wood to one side. He quickly took his place behind the metal vault door between Molly and Rosalind, glancing at both of them with fiery enthusiasm. “Now for the big test! Ready?”

  “I’m as ready as ever,” Molly said, nearly as excited as her brother.

  “I suppose I can’t be any more ready than that!” Rosalind added with a good-luck smile. “On your word, Christopher.”

  “Okay then. Let’s start rocking it nice and easy. And together,” he instructed. “Just like we’re trying to push out a car stuck in the snow.”

  “I can honestly say I’ve never had that opportunity,” Rosalind quipped as she placed her hands on the cold metal and leaned forward.

  “You’re not missing anything,” Molly replied, straining to push the door forward in unison with the others.

  “Ease up a bit and then push forward again,” Christopher chanted. “Ease up and push forward…”

  “I prefer to rock and roll it,” Molly grunted. “Rock and roll it.”

  “Whatever works.”

  “A team of mules and a thick rope would work!” Rosalind said between breaths.

  Despite her sore muscles, Molly couldn’t help but laugh, though she quickly regained her composure so as not to throw off their rhythm. Back and forth the trio rocked. Back and forth. The prisoners pushed and pushed and held their breaths as if attempting to move a mountain when the huge iron wheel suddenly moved, turning slightly a fraction of an inch forward, then a little bit farther, then a little bit more. Christopher, Molly and Rosalind quickly took a half step forward and again firmly planted their feet, still pushing against the wheel with their whole bodies and every ounce of strength they could muster. The iron circle inched along, the wooden boards below creaking and groaning under the excessive weight. It turned and moved another half inch forward, then another and another until it eventually reached the end of the platform where it seemed to freeze in place, until finally, with one last agonizing push, it tipped over the edge and rolled down the ramp, gaining speed like a horse barreling out the gate at the starting bell.

  “We did it!” Molly shouted, jumping off the barrel.

  Christopher and Rosalind merely watched in silence as the iron vault door rolled steadily toward the castle wall like a mindless giant until it hit the stones with a dull CRUNCH and then stopped dead. The force of the collision pushed a few of the stones outward and cracked some others, with the door remaining wedged into the wall. Christopher beamed with satisfaction at the moment of impact, but his smile quickly turned into a frown when the wall hadn’t smashed to pieces as he had hoped. He hopped off the platform, and after helping Princess Rosalind down from her barrel, he ran over to inspect the results.

  “Well, I envisioned a wrecking ball type of effect,” he admitted as he closely examined the extent of the damage. He moved the palm of his hand along the cracks in the wall and suddenly stopped. “But this isn’t too bad. Take a look.”

  Molly and Rosalind rushed over, quite impressed with the outcome despite Christopher’s initial misgivings. He had them place a hand over a particular spot on the wall, and when they did they each felt a cool breeze from outdoors.

  “That feels like progress,” Molly said, quite encouraged.

  “The door pushed some of the stones out far enough to create a small hole in the wall,” Rosalind said.

  Christopher snaked his fingers about the stone. “I can just fit my hand inside. The best part is that much of the rock around it is cracked. A few minutes with the crowbar and I’ll be able to make a hole wide enough to slip through.”

  Molly scrambled over and retrieved the crowbar and handed it to Christopher. “So what are you waiting for?”

  Christopher’s estimated few minutes stretched into an hour before he could see some progress. In spite of the cool breeze now flowing inside, Christopher was hot and sweaty after all his labor, feeling as if he had just completed a twenty mile bike ride.
But after pounding away at the rock and mortar for several minutes more, he created a hole large enough for the three of them to squeeze through. Molly crawled outside first, drinking in the fresh night air upon her escape. She peered through the new exit.

  “Hurry up, you two. It’s beautiful out!” she whispered.

  “I suppose any place would be an improvement,” Rosalind replied as she exited the storage room, wiping the dust off her dress after she joined Molly on the other side.

  Christopher quickly followed and the three hastened around the castle through the pitch blackness toward the side entrance. A cool breeze sped along the castle wall and shook them wide awake despite the post midnight hour. Thousands of stars flooded the sky, the tiny beacons bouncing their light off the inky surface of the moat. As they turned the corner they spotted another light just ahead of them. Someone had stepped out of the hiding place with a torch, so Christopher extended his arms to stop Molly and Rosalind. The three stood with their backs to the castle wall, as silent as the stone. They were quite safe from being spotted in the darkness and carefully observed the actions of the shadowy figure wreathed in firelight.

  The man with the torch walked past the raft and grabbed hold of something leaning against the castle wall and carried it toward the moat. It was a square object, somewhat heavy and about an eighth the size of the raft but not as thick. He set it on the water’s edge, picked up a wooden pole that had been lying on the ground and tossed the torch into the moat. The light extinguished, and a moment later, Christopher, Molly and Rosalind watched the individual drift across the moat.

  “That’s Morgus Vandar,” Rosalind whispered.

  “With his own lightweight mini-raft,” Molly said, somewhat impressed. “That clears up another mystery. But where’s he going?”

  “He has a few more errands to run,” Christopher said suspiciously, recalling Belthasar’s words. “I can only imagine what they are. I have to follow him.”

  “What!” Molly softly exclaimed. “How are you going to do that?”