The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  Belthasar didn’t know whether to growl or shout or explode in anger, so he simply stood there half frozen, throwing intermittent glances at the castle, convinced that somewhere upon the stony structure an arrow was aimed directly at his heart. His body shook with mounting wrath as a vein throbbed in his head.

  Artemas watched these events unfold from below the platform, worried that Belthasar was on the brink of madness. Though he deemed it honorable that Prince Jeremiah would forfeit his life to destroy a tyrant like Belthasar, he wanted to find another way. What if the arrow missed and Belthasar escaped? What if his spirit took refuge inside Rosalind or Molly? Or within some other stranger where he would be free to roam the world, biding his time and plotting mischief even more terrible and deadly? Artemas knew he had to be stopped–now.

  “What is your choice, Belthasar?” Rosalind asked, raising the sword slightly so that it mirrored the dim afternoon sky. “This is your last chance. Choose now, or I shall choose for you!”

  Belthasar clenched his fists and snarled like a wild dog, preparing to lash out.

  “Oh dear!” Artemas uttered to himself, rapidly scanning the crowd while contemplating a dozen different spells in his head. It was time to act before a storm let loose. He knew Belthasar was searching for a means of escape before he self-destructed in his pride, hurting others in the process. And then Artemas saw an opportunity in a few stray cats that scurried along the edge of the crowd, nosing about for scraps of food that people brought along for lunch. He spotted a gray and black cat with long whiskers and fierce green eyes and aimed his fingers directly at it, speaking in a stony whisper.

  “Linekipélafétten!” he commanded.

  As swift as a lightning stroke, the cat spun around and arched its back, bounded up the platform steps with an ear-piercing shriek and leapt right into Jeremiah’s arms. Jeremiah nearly fell over in surprise as everyone else gawked in amazement. But as the cat twisted and squirmed and wailed, Jeremiah saw his chance and took it. In the next instant, the cat’s intense green stare dimmed to ashen gray as a familiar sky blue luster flowed into Jeremiah’s eyes. The cat jumped out of his arms and dove off the platform, leaving Jeremiah dizzy and unbalanced. Molly and Mrs. Jordan grabbed hold of his arms to keep him steady while Rosalind handed the sword back to one of the soldiers as she rushed over to him.

  “Jeremiah, is that really you?” she asked, gently caressing the tips of her fingers upon his face. “Speak to me.”

  Jeremiah stood up straight and gazed at Rosalind with a gentle smile as if seeing her lovely face for the very first time. “It’s me,” he whispered, holding her hand and kissing it. “And I promise I won’t ever leave you again.” Then he looked out across the sea of people with fire in his eyes. “Where is that scoundrel?”

  Rosalind nodded reassuringly. “I believe Artemas is handling the matter right now,” she said, pointing toward the field to his right.

  As soon as the cat had jumped off the platform, Artemas pursued it like a hungry tiger. It ran past the row of spectators in front, including King Rupert and Queen Eleanor, and headed out into the field.

  “Don’t anyone touch that cat!” Artemas cried, flinging off the hood of his cloak as he bolted past the amazed onlookers in a blur. The younger soldiers near the bonfire appeared stunned that the gray-bearded magician sprinted as fast as they ever could and cheered him on as he zipped by. But as the cat ran furiously into the open field, Artemas suddenly stopped and raised both hands, aiming them at the tract of grass and weeds just ahead of the animal’s path.

  “Deliafewdomgro!” Artemas shouted, nearly out of breath. His face tightened as he concentrated on the spell with every ounce of strength left inside him.

  Then as if a month of springtime had been compressed into a single moment, that one section of the field suddenly grew as fast and wild as a race horse. Tall stalks of grass sprouted waist high like thousands of groping fingers as scrub brush and dandelions and wild ivy stretched and bloomed and spread with unstoppable madness. The cat plunged right into the middle of the teeming green growth and was quickly engulfed in a living prison. It spun in furious circles as it tried to claw its way out of the thickening grass and weeds, shrieking and spitting and helplessly wailing. But eventually it tired out and gave up the fight like a fly caught in a spider’s massive web.

  Artemas slowly waved a hand over the field as he approached and it ceased to grow. He trudged through the tall grass and searched for the cat as a few soldiers hurried toward him.

  “Keep your distance!” he warned them. “It’s not safe yet.” Artemas signaled to one of the men closest to him. “Do me a favor and find a heavy sack so I can bag this nuisance once and for all. Someone in the crowd must have packed a plentiful lunch in one large enough. Hurry!”

  “Right away!” the soldier replied before dashing off.

  Meanwhile, Jeremiah ordered his soldiers to take Belthasar’s spies and advisors to the castle prisons. “I will deal with them later and determine a just punishment.”

  Morgus Vandar, gripping the back railing, trembled with fear when he realized he would soon be locked up. Visions of wealth and power dissolved before his eyes like morning mist. As a soldier approached to arrest him, Morgus leaped over the railing and ran through the grass toward the bonfire.

  “Seize him!” the soldier ordered to the others near the fire.

  Several of Prince Jeremiah’s men zeroed in on Morgus, but momentarily stopped when he pulled out his sword.

  “Stay away!” he cried. “You will not take me!”

  The men surrounded him and unsheathed their own swords. Morgus swallowed hard, his eyes wide in terror as a dozen sharp points stared at him from every direction, the glowing flames reflecting upon the metal. He dropped his weapon but not before reaching inside his coat and removing the small pouch of black crystals. He raised it high above his head and turned toward the platform.

  “Have your men release me!” he shouted to Jeremiah. “Or I will inflict havoc upon the kingdom of Endora the likes of which you cannot imagine!”

  “And what can you do to harm my kingdom?” King Rupert asked as he rushed over to the circle of soldiers. “I do not believe the words of a miserable creature such as you!”

  “Nor do I!” added Queen Eleanor, marching up beside him.

  Prince Jeremiah walked to the edge of the platform and leaned over the railing. “He was involved in Belthasar’s plan to invade your kingdom, King Rupert. But I never learned any of the details.”

  King Rupert glared at Morgus Vandar. “Hours ago I sent scouts back home to warn my people and repel any invasion. I will trust in their swiftness and bravery rather than heed your dark words.”

  Morgus scoffed at the King and the prince. “Fine. Put your faith where you will, but let’s see if your soldiers can outrun the brilliance of Belthasar!”

  Morgus suddenly hurled the pouch high into the air above the soldiers’ reach, precisely aiming it so that it arched back down and plunged into the center of the fire. All looked on in bafflement, wondering what Morgus had just done. A few wisps of dark gray smoke began to rise above the flames, and then a moment later, billows upon billows of black smoke erupted from the fire and rose into the air, towering monstrously like a huge serpent, dimming any hope for peace budding in the people’s hearts.

  “What can this mean?” some asked in growing fear. But most simply watched the ghastly sight in stunned horror.

  “Now witness the true power of Belthasar!” shouted Morgus, a defiant smirk upon his face. “Look south and you will soon see a response to my signal miles away. And farther on toward Endora, others will likewise send their signals into the sky until the last plume of smoke is seen by an invading force of trolls and goblins waiting upon King Rupert’s doorstep.” Morgus laughed cruelly. “You may have won a small battle here, but prepare for war in Endora!” Then Morgus spotted Molly standing with her mother and Rosalind next to Prince Jeremiah on the edge of the platform and locked gazes wi
th her. “That pesky brother of yours was just too inept to stop me. Now you will pay the price!”

  He turned and raised his arm, confidently pointing to the southern sky. Every eye in the crowd followed, anticipating the horror to befall their neighboring kingdom. They nervously watched and waited for the next trail of black smoke to rise upon the horizon.

  “You will rue the day you interfered with the mighty Belthasar,” he said. “Now behold his wrath!”

  And still the people looked to the south, waiting for the misery and chaos to begin. But all they saw were clouds and distant treetops.

  “Any moment now!” Morgus shouted, his arm beginning to tire from holding it up so long. The smirk on his face started to waver.

  Many in the crowd began to murmur, some with impatience, others with disbelief.

  “We’re waiting…” Molly muttered sarcastically, loud enough for him to hear.

  “Behold!” he yelled, jumping up and jabbing his finger into the air. But still nothing happened. “Behold the wrath of–!”

  “Oh, give it a rest!” Molly shot back, leaning casually upon the railing. “I think you were too inept to hire people to get the job done right. Looks like my brother foiled your silly plan after all.”

  Morgus gritted his teeth in frustration as the crowd burst into laughter, some taunting him for his ridiculous display of bravado. The surrounding soldiers closed in silently upon Morgus Vandar and swiftly escorted him to the castle prison as the last of the black crystals burned themselves out. The pillar of black smoke quickly dissipated in the strengthening breeze.

  Artemas strolled through the grass a moment later, carrying a cloth sack securely tied with a large knot, holding it at arm’s length. The sack twisted and rocked as angry shrieks and sputters emanated from inside. He held it up for Prince Jeremiah to see.

  “Here is your culprit,” Artemas said with a satisfied smile. “Though I don’t think he is in the best of moods.”

  “Looks like we’ll have to build him a smaller prison cell,” Rosalind joked.

  “That will not be a problem,” replied Jeremiah with a grin.

  Suddenly Magic bounded out of the crowd, barking up a storm, with Vergil chasing after him. The dog jumped up several times in front of Artemas, tail wagging, trying to get at the sack before Vergil made him sit down. The boy knelt next to Magic to calm him.

  “He can spot cats a mile away!” Vergil said with a laugh. “Can’t you boy!” Magic panted with his tongue hanging out, happily the center of attention as Vergil wrapped an arm around him.

  “Good dog,” Artemas said, eyeing Magic suspiciously as he moved a few steps away. “Stay… Stay…”

  Mr. Smithers and Emma then hastily emerged from the crowd. “We were keeping an eye on him but he managed to slip away,” he apologized. “The dog, that is, not the boy.”

  “Though we did promise to watch Vergil too,” Emma sweetly corrected her husband. “Now, honey, you mustn’t let young children run around when there are ruffians and bonfires and wild cats swirling all about.”

  “It won’t happen again, dear,” he promised.

  King Rupert and Queen Eleanor then strode up to the platform.

  “This sudden fuss with cats and dogs is all well and good, but would you allow me, Prince Jeremiah, to make a suggestion on this most special day?”

  “Please do, your highness,” he replied, holding Princess Rosalind’s hand. “Your wise words are always welcome in Solárin.”

  “Then I will say this,” King Rupert proclaimed in a loud and commanding voice. “Solárin needs her King, now more than ever. So if you had any plans to delay your coronation in light of the recent hubbub, I humbly suggest that you chase those thoughts out of your mind this instant. Let the crown of your father be placed where destiny intended it to rest–upon the head of Solárin’s new King! And the sooner, the better!”

  The crowd burst into cheers at King Rupert’s words, and Rosalind led Prince Jeremiah to the center of the platform so that all could see him. A slight uproar ensued in the crowd as three men sprinted up the path toward the steps, but laughter quickly followed.

  “Wait for us!” Mr. Tupper managed to shout amid huffs and puffs for air. Darius and Amin followed close behind. The three had bolted out of the castle as soon as they saw the situation with Belthasar had been resolved.

  “There’s plenty of room here for you three!” Molly said, welcoming them as they marched up the steps.

  “As my father’s closest friend and advisor, I wouldn’t have you miss this occasion for the world,” Prince Jeremiah said to Mr. Tupper, shaking his hand. “You may proceed, my trusted friend.”

  And so before two thousand eager and hopeful faces, as a spring breeze rustled through grassy green fields and lifted the stately sky blue banners of Solárin, Prince Jeremiah knelt down before his willing subjects on both knees. Mr. Tupper raised the silver crown high above his head, spoke a few words that the people had longed to hear, and then gently set it upon Jeremiah’s head. He rose to his feet as their new King, and the gathering again erupted in applause and shouts of long life and success. Mr. Tupper then took the King’s sword from the nearby soldier, but instead of presenting it to King Jeremiah, he handed it to Molly.

  “I think it would be appropriate if you did the honors,” he said, gently handing her the silver sword.

  Molly’s heart beat wildly as she held the sword in both hands and walked toward the King. Mrs. Jordan proudly looked on. Jeremiah smiled as Molly approached and politely curtsied, then handed him the sword of his father. Jeremiah accepted it with a thank you and bowed before the crowd.

  “Long life to our new King!” Mr. Tupper exclaimed as the crowd exploded one more time in applause and cheers.

  As the sound of their joy took flight upon the warming spring breeze, the clouds began to break and the bright rays of the high afternoon sun streaked through and reflected brilliantly upon King Jeremiah’s silver crown. At the same instant, the field of tall grass and weeds that Artemas had created began to slowly dissolve like a bubble of soap drifting too long in the air.

  “Now isn’t that a curious thing,” Molly commented to Artemas after he had joined the others on the platform to offer his congratulations to Jeremiah. “What happened?”

  “Every magician knows that sunlight will dissolve any living thing made with magic,” Artemas said. “We’ve been trying for ages to devise a spell to counter its effect. Though I’ve come close, as it now stands, creating life is simply not in our power. And maybe that is for the best,” he said with a shrug. “For now, let’s simply enjoy what life has to offer us at the moment.”

  Molly nodded and grinned like a pumpkin as she stood with her mother, happier than she had been in quite a while. She watched as King Jeremiah stood proudly next to Princess Rosalind, the woman he loved more than anything, and for a moment, Molly thought life was perfect.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The Road Back

  After several speeches and other outdoor festivities had concluded, King Jeremiah returned to his chamber a couple hours later to offer his gratitude and goodbyes to those who had saved his kingdom. All sat around a crackling fire in various states of exhaustion.

  “In light of the recent turmoil, I have postponed many of the planned celebrations until we have straightened out matters here at the castle,” the King said. “I will proclaim a two-day holiday throughout the kingdom in the near future so that all can properly commemorate Solárin’s new beginning.”

  “Two days! Sounds like a blast!” Molly said, eagerly anticipating the event.

  “Unfortunately we won’t be here,” Mrs. Jordan reminded her. “The timedoor reopens shortly before dawn tomorrow.”

  “And closes three hours after that for the last time,” Artemas added.

  Molly sighed. “Seems I’ve been here for so long that I forgot all about the timedoor. So much for hanging out at a good party. And I’ll miss Rosalind’s wedding this summer too!” she suddenly
realized with dismay.

  “You’ve had enough excitement, Molly. A little healthy dullness is just what the doctor ordered,” her mother replied.

  “Yeah, you always got to do what the doctor says!” Vergil exclaimed as he jumped on Molly’s lap.

  Magic followed Vergil and sat down on the floor next to him and Molly, but not before growling suspiciously at a small wooden cage resting on a nearby table. Inside lay the cat that housed Belthasar’s spirit, surprisingly calm for the moment. It hissed at Magic. Artemas stood next to the cage, refusing to leave it unguarded even for an instant.

  “Any word from Ulric and Mr. Jordan?” Rosalind asked. “Or from any of the other scouts? Surely someone must have located Christopher by now.”

  “No word as of yet,” said Darius, standing at attention near the fireplace.

  “But do not give up hope,” added Mr. Tupper. “Though our best men are searching for him, Christopher has proven to be quite resourceful. He will be all right.”

  “And I have instructed Mr. Smithers to send word to all the outposts that we are safe here at the castle,” King Rupert said. He sat next to Queen Eleanor, both enjoying a cup of steaming blackberry tea. “Perhaps they found their way to one of the outposts and learned of our situation. There would be no need for them to rush back if they had.”

  “That’s probably the case,” Mr. Smithers agreed, informing everyone that the message had been sent immediately after the coronation. He and Emma sat opposite one another at a small table in back of the room.

  “Then everything appears to be looking up for a change,” Jeremiah concluded before glancing over at the small cage. “Well, except for that. What will happen to our furry friend, Artemas?”

  “I am afraid this little creature will have to be placed under a lifelong guard,” he said, tugging at his beard. He gazed at the cat with a mix of wonder and contempt. “And I will accept the brunt of that task. After all, I am responsible for the creation of the timedoor and all its consequences. Given time, maybe I can design some type of enclosure both large and secure enough so the cat can at least run around and live a slightly normal life.” He nodded sadly. “But it will be a lonely life. No one will ever be allowed to pet this animal, or perhaps even visit it. It must be kept isolated until death takes it–and who knows when that will be now that Belthasar dwells within the poor creature.”