The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “This isn’t good,” Molly whispered to Artemas, her eyes filled with fear.

  Belthasar gazed out over the landscape, though his eyes were still closed. The iron gray hair and black cloak blew in the breeze, and the pale skin on the face made it seem as if the man had been asleep for ages. But something was alive, just barely. Upon closer inspection, Molly noticed a slight movement underneath the eyelids as if Belthasar were in the middle of a deep dream. A faint brush of color slowly returned to his face. The pointed chin and the grim expression grew more hideous by the moment. Belthasar appeared to be nearly his old self again. Then the movement beneath the eyelids suddenly stopped. All stood deathly quiet. And in a flash–it happened!

  The eyelids snapped up like wild window shades, revealing Belthasar’s dark obsidian black eyes. They blazed like chunks of burning coal, glowing a garish red and orange fire from deep within. A crazed and vindictive smile crept across his face as he slowly raised one hand, then another, turning each one over to examine as if he had never seen such an amazing sight before. Belthasar wiggled his fingers and grinned, slowly looking up at the clear morning sky and erupting in ghastly laughter. He inhaled the cool fresh air, the first his lungs had tasted in years. Then he raised his arms and cried out in arrogant satisfaction, his voice booming like cannon fire.

  “I AM BACK, WORLD!” he shouted, the words echoing sharply off the mountains. Belthasar stared down at King Rupert, then quickly glanced at Christopher, Molly and Artemas, grunting with vicious pride. “So step aside before I plow you down!”

  Artemas slumped and bowed his head. “What have I done?” he softly said, sighing deeply and despondently.

  “You have helped to create one of the world’s greatest leaders!” Belthasar replied with robust pride. “I will scale the heights of power and magic beyond Malaban’s wildest dreams, and it all starts here and now!” He sliced an arm through the air and aimed a finger at a small boulder lying on the ground about thirty yards behind King Rupert’s soldiers. “FITÉNORES!” he shouted as loud as he could.

  Instantly, the rock exploded like dynamite, bursting into fire, smoke and shards of stone. The horses jumped about, neighing in terror and ready to bolt as their riders tried to calm them. A wave of stunned amazement rippled through the troops. Belthasar immediately voiced another command, exploding a second boulder a short distance away behind the other side of the gathering. The soldiers turned this way and that, wondering what the enemy had in store for them next.

  Christopher and Molly watched the scene from above, terrified at how powerful Belthasar had grown, not daring to imagine how much stronger he could get. Trails of gray and black smoke drifted through the air like a brood of poisonous snakes, carried by a fresh breeze and reflecting the golden glow in the east. A chorus of desperate cries tore at their hearts and crushed their souls, sending them into a spiral of hopelessness. And when they saw Artemas standing before them, appearing old and tired and defeated, they realized he had finally lost the battle with Belthasar, at long last succumbing to the enemy’s unrelenting cruelty and unquenchable desire for power. Endora was about to fall.

  “Molly, take the knife and guard Fennic,” Christopher whispered. “I’ve got to do something now!”

  “Like what?” she asked, noting the determined look in her brother’s eyes. It sent a chill up her spine.

  “There’s no other choice,” he said, realizing that Molly had an inkling of his plan. “If I charge at Belthasar while he’s distracted, well… This will be our only chance.”

  Molly looked over her shoulder as Belthasar addressed the crowd below, no doubt setting the stage for a final demonstration of his newfound magical powers. She shook her head, glaring at her brother and wanting to protect him, but knowing he was right.

  “You might go over the edge with him!” she desperately muttered.

  “There is no other way, Molly!”

  Suddenly Belthasar raised his arms in the air and clenched his fists.

  “There has to be, Chris!”

  Belthasar’s voice rang out for all to hear. “Now you shall witness your destiny as a new day, a new season and a new year dawn upon us!”

  Christopher handed Molly the dagger and took a deep breath. He planted his feet to the ground, preparing to rush headlong into Belthasar. He nodded at his sister. She flashed a smile back.

  “Victory!” Belthasar shouted, pumping his fists into the air as the eastern horizon prepared to erupt with a golden fire. “Victory at last!”

  Christopher was a split second from sprinting across the rocky surface to tackle Belthasar, willing to accept any deadly results. His heart pounded and his lungs felt ready to burst. But in the instant before he let loose, Christopher saw Artemas slowly turn his pale and beleaguered face toward him. The power of his ocean blue eyes and gentle voice stopped him like a brick wall.

  “Wait,” he whispered.

  Christopher used every ounce of willpower to hold himself back as both he and Molly felt the commanding strength of the magician flow over them–as tender as a warm spring breeze, yet as wild as a raging river. They stood still and silent like everyone gathered below, watching Belthasar triumphantly greet the brand new day as their own dying hearts were wrung dry of the last drops of hope.

  “Behold your new destiny!” Belthasar cried, reaching for the sky. “Bow down now to the one and only King of Belthasaria!”

  At that moment, the first golden bead of light inched above the horizon as the yellow disc of the sun revealed itself from behind the eastern hills. Steadily it climbed, casting a soft blend of orange, yellow and red upon Belthasar’s face and across the cool stone surface of Three Frogs and Mount Maricel. The landscape, still cold beneath the surface from the long dark night, was awash in the delicate pastel light of the first spring day of a brand new year. Yet everyone who watched saw only the hard and bitter edges on Belthasar’s face grow clearer and sharper. A swirling rage was evident in the eyes of the tall and sinister figure looming upon the top of Three Frogs like a ravenous vulture preparing to feast. No one at that bleak moment had the strength of mind to imagine what destruction and chaos such an evil being would rain upon them, but all were certain that that would be their fate. It was only a matter of time.

  Belthasar lowered his arms and grinned with warped satisfaction. He observed the bewildered faces before him, contemplating his first command as daylight poured into his darkened eyes. He had waited for this moment for so long, for years beyond count. And now, indeed, his time had arrived.

  “My first message to all of you is this!” Belthasar announced, feeling the warmth of the rising sun as the golden circle now fully revealed itself from behind the lush green hills like a blazing searchlight blasting away the darkness. “I–”

  Then it hit him! A sudden sharp pain surged through his body like an electric jolt. He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach and stabbed in the heart. Belthasar bent over and groaned, tried to stand up straight, but felt dizzy and unsteady as his strength and sharpness of mind poured out of him like a flood of water. His arms trembled and he lifted up a hand, crying out in terror when he saw the rock at his feet right through his own skin and bones. His body began to fade, turning as transparent and fragile as a bubble of soap. What is happening to me! This cannot be!

  But his disintegration continued. Belthasar sensed that the magical powers he obtained from Artemas were draining away as his body dissolved. He knew he had to escape now or be destroyed. His spirit had to find a safe haven before it was too late. Belthasar turned his head, but even that small movement proved as difficult as pushing a mountain. He glanced everywhere his eyes could see, looking for someone to take refuge in, but everyone was too far away. Christopher, Molly, Artemas and Fennic stood a few yards to his left, though it might as well have been a mile. Belthasar had neither the strength nor mobility to reach them. He felt as heavy as stone itself. He gazed at the rock beneath his feet as the heat of the sun breathed down upon him like dragon f
lames, looking for a bug or a fly or a single cricket. But there was no living thing to flee into. Rock! Stone! Desolation! Panic flooded through the remnants of his evaporating thoughts. His decaying mind saw everything for the first time with cold clarity. Why did I come to this wretched place? There is nothing here! Nothing! Nothing!

  Belthasar stood up as straight as he could, unable to scream out in misery or vocalize the injustice being thrust upon him. As he flailed his arms, he saw they were nearly invisible, matching the rest of his dying body. The rays of the sun streamed through him like lasers, burning away the body that housed his spirit. With his last bit of sight, Belthasar gazed down upon King Rupert, trying with all his might to step off the edge of Three Frogs and fall upon him in a last ditch hope to touch something alive and save himself. I will not be defeated! I cannot be destroyed! I–

  The pale and gauzy body of Belthasar leaned forward and toppled over the edge of Three Frogs, but it was immediately carried off on a current of air like a leaf in the breeze. The rising sun seared away the last traces of his body in a final blast of heat and light. Belthasar’s spirit was finally released into the open air in utter and empty silence. It was whisked away on a fresh spring breeze, stretched thin and far and wide, and an instant later, dissolved into nothingness.

  Belthasar, at last, was no more.

  And as the crisp Endoran morning unfolded, the sun continued its steady ascent across a clear blue sky. Its warm and saving light shined upon those joyfully gathered around Three Frogs, all safe and secure under the protective watch of Mount Maricel now waking from its winter slumber.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  A Magician Reveals His Secrets

  Molly glanced at her brother as the morning sunshine danced lightly upon her golden hair. She couldn’t speak for several moments, unable to comprehend what she had just witnessed. Christopher, still guarding Fennic with the dagger, stood in a state of wondrous confusion, a crooked grin upon his face. They both gazed at Artemas, their minds whirling with unending questions, though neither knew where to begin.

  “Artemas, what just happened?” Molly asked, feeling as exhausted as a marathon runner who had crossed the finish line. Yet a strange sense of energy and exhilaration swept over her at the same time.

  “That same question was kind of on my mind too,” Christopher said with a smirk.

  “And a very good question it is,” he replied, looking tired and worn out. “But if you would allow me one minute first, there is something I have been waiting to do for about eight days–Endoran time, not yours.”

  “Sure,” Molly replied with a curious shrug.

  Artemas placed his hands upon his brow, closed both eyes for a moment and uttered one word that resonated as crisp and clear as a single toll upon a silver bell.

  “Sipárahénic!”

  At once, the ragged lines of care and worry drained out of the magician’s face, and his eyes brightened to their old cheerful appearance. He stood taller and more assured, looking younger than moments ago. The damage that Belthasar’s spirit had inflicted upon him disappeared like morning mist. Their old friend was back.

  “That’s some trick,” Molly said. “What’d you do?”

  Artemas inhaled the swirl of invigorating spring air. “Just putting things back in order,” he said with a smile.

  “You look much better,” Christopher remarked.

  “I feel much better,” the magician replied. “Headache gone!”

  Molly looked dumbfounded. “Gone? If you could have gotten rid of your headache so easily, why didn’t you do it before?”

  “I had a very good reason,” he said. “I’ll explain in time.”

  “And is Belthasar really gone?” Molly asked, her eyes filled with hope.

  Artemas nodded. “He is gone–this time for good.”

  “Which brings me back to Molly’s original question,” Christopher said. “What just happened?”

  But before they got another word out of him, a small commotion below suddenly grabbed their attention. The trolls that Belthasar recruited had scattered to the west after realizing their leader had been destroyed. A single horn blared from one of King Rupert’s soldiers. Several blasts replied across the plains from the encampment a quarter mile away. Ulric sent out a dozen men on horses to drive the trolls back to the Katánin Mountains, knowing that other men from the encampment were on their way. Those soldiers would ride close to the perimeter on either side of the plains so that no troll could escape to the north or south. Ulric and King Rupert, though, were confident that none of the trolls wanted to engage in battle now. They would take refuge in the mountains for quite a while after this stinging defeat.

  At the same time, three more of Ulric’s men had scrambled up to the top of Three Frogs to apprehend Fennic. Christopher handed the dagger to one of the soldiers as the other two escorted him down. Fennic muttered to himself, glaring at Christopher as his head disappeared over the side. Molly waved goodbye with a quick wiggle of her fingers.

  “I guess King Rupert and King Jeremiah will have to take turns lodging Fennic in their prisons,” Christopher joked. “After all, he has a list of offenses as long as his arm in both kingdoms.”

  “I’m confident they’ll work it out,” Artemas said. He raised his hand as Christopher and Molly were about to pepper him with more questions. “But before another word is spoken, I suggest we head down ourselves. Many are waiting to see us.”

  So after one last look at the vast rolling plains tinted gold in the morning light, and the wall of mountains splashed softly with orange and red, Christopher, Molly and Artemas quietly descended Three Frogs under the gentle hand of a warm spring breeze. Mr. and Mrs. Jordan and Mina rushed over to greet the trio as they stepped onto the ground, smothering them in hugs and tears for several minutes after.

  Mina couldn’t help but laugh moments later, though still misty eyed because Artemas was safe and sound. “If this is typical of how you greet the New Year, Artemas, then your celebration certainly beats ours!”

  “Thankfully it is not!” he replied, holding Mina’s hand. “When we return to the castle, perhaps we can enjoy a late breakfast and properly celebrate the occasion with a little less commotion.”

  “Commotion? Try mayhem, chaos and pandemonium brought to a boiling point!” Mrs. Jordan said, one arm wrapped around each of her children as though she would never let go.

  “That description is an understatement,” King Rupert said. “And I hope this kingdom never sees that kind of excitement for a long, long time!”

  “I second that,” Mr. Jordan quipped. “It makes it difficult to vacation here.”

  “Duly noted,” the King replied. “So in order to keep the trolls at bay and prevent them from stirring up more trouble, I will consult with King Jeremiah about constructing a string of outposts along the entire mountain range to keep our borders more secure. No longer will Endora sit by and allow those who wish to harm us unfettered access to our lands. If I haven’t learned that lesson by now, then I don’t deserve to be King.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do the right thing,” Ulric said.

  Then King Rupert turned to Artemas. “But as King, I do deserve some answers from my magician. For instance, what happened to Belthasar? And why did you lead Ulric, Christopher and Molly on a mysterious chase across the countryside?”

  Artemas bowed his head, feeling both guilty and embarrassed. “I will be happy to answer your questions, King Rupert, and any others that anybody wishes to ask.”

  “Stand in line!” Molly joked.

  “However, we should commence this conversation on our way back to the castle,” he said. “Otherwise we may be here until lunchtime. It is quite a long story.”

  King Rupert directed that everyone return to the encampment while Artemas began his account on the short ride there. All listened in fascination as the steady clip clop of the horses’ hooves echoed in the background.

  “I suppose everything began when I returned to the Jor
dans’ world for a short vacation–and to visit Mina,” Artemas said, winking at Mina as the two rode side by side on their horses under a sapphire blue sky. “When I learned that Belthasar’s spirit had taken refuge on the other side of the timedoor, inhabiting the actor Elvin L. Cooper, well, I knew then that my vacation was going to be anything but a vacation. I had to stop him. I felt responsible for the entire mess, having created the timedoor in the first place.”

  “Look on the bright side,” Christopher said. “If you had never invented a timedoor, you and King Rupert would have been captured by Malaban five years ago and he would still be a powerful sorcerer.”

  “He would have attacked Endora a second time too,” Molly said. “So your invention helped defeat two miserable people.”

  “I never thought of it that way,” he mused, stroking his beard. “I suppose I can live with that explanation.”

  “What happened next?” Mrs. Jordan asked, sitting behind her husband as they trotted along on the same horse. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Artemas!”

  “I don’t intend to, Sally. Thanks to the astuteness of you and Molly at the carnival last summer, Belthasar’s whereabouts were discovered when you heard his interview on television. It wasn’t until we escorted Emma back to visit Queen Eleanor that I had the first inkling about how to defeat him,” he said. “It began after we ran into Ulric’s operation to catch that thieving intruder.”

  “Glad I could assist,” Ulric said with a chuckle. “But how did that help? My men had only captured a hungry raccoon after all, not a devious troll or goblin.”

  “True, but after the commotion had settled, you mentioned something that piqued my interest,” Artemas reminded him. “You said–Sometimes to defeat an enemy you must seemingly give it what it wants. That nugget of wisdom got me to thinking–what did Belthasar want? I concluded he desired two things–power, of course, and to be his old self again. I wondered how I could provide them in order to trap and defeat him. As luck would have it, the solution had been given to me by an incident that occurred shortly before we ran into Ulric and the ravenous raccoon, only I didn’t know it at the time.”