The soldiers sped down the corridor like a gust of wind and all was soon quiet. Ulric entered the kitchen, inviting the others to follow. He lit another series of torches inside to provide more light. All were amazed at the amount of food stored within the tiny room. Besides a few barrels of dried meat and sacks of apples and chestnuts, the countertops were crowded with fresh loaves of bread, wedges of cheese and an assortment of fruit pies.
“Even though I ate dinner a couple hours ago, I think I just found room for dessert!” Christopher said, his mouth watering at the display.
Molly shrugged. “Ulric, why are so many freshly baked goods stored in here? Won’t they spoil?” she asked as he searched around the room with the torch in hand.
Ulric knelt on one knee in front of an old stone oven that hadn’t been used in several years and held the torch inside for a closer inspection. The flame flickered. He smiled with satisfaction at what he had discovered and jumped to his feet.
“Correct, Molly. We don’t ever store such items here. Then again, we don’t often have to track down a thief.”
“I understand,” Mr. Jordan said. “You were trying to lure him back–or in this case–lure it back.”
“Precisely. I asked Mrs. Pech to leave extra food here that she wouldn’t normally store in this room to tempt the intruder more than usual. And I just discovered a hole in the bottom of this old oven where some of the stones had crumbled away. I felt a draft flowing in from the next room that’s not often used. It leads into the cellars,” he said, displaying all the confidence of a detective solving his biggest case. “No doubt someone had left the stairway door in that room ajar, allowing the raccoon to find its way up from the cellars and into this room. I will search below to determine exactly where our hungry friend found its way into the castle.”
“Though I don’t know much about military tactics,” Artemas admitted, “it is as plain as snow on the mountains to see that your plan worked flawlessly.”
“Sometimes to defeat an enemy you must seemingly give it what it wants,” Ulric said.
Artemas considered the statement for a moment. “Hmmm... Give the enemy what it wants. That doesn’t sound logical. Yet you did capture the perpetrator, so who am I to question your methods?”
“Thinking several steps ahead of your adversary often helps,” Ulric explained.
Christopher agreed. “Like the Boy Scouts say–always be prepared!”
“Always have a spare suitcase packed!” Molly added.
Artemas raised a finger. “And always keep an extra jar of blood beetles on the shelf!” he shouted with enthusiasm. He noted the baffled expressions staring back. “Sorry, but it’s the only saying I could invent on the spur of the moment.”
Emma giggled. “However Ulric did it, it was a job well done!”
“All in a day’s work,” he modestly replied.
“If only you could track down another individual for us with such ease,” Mr. Smithers remarked with an ominous tone in his voice.
“What’s wrong? Do you require my assistance in some other matter? I assumed you had just stopped by for a social visit.”
“Emma plans to stay here for a few days and spend time with her sister,” Artemas explained, gazing pensively into the torchlight. “The others have only stopped by for a brief hello. And to clarify Mr. Smithers’ worrisome comment, well…” The magician slowly raised his eyes while the firelight cast a devilish glow upon his face. “Something foul and wicked is lurking just beyond the timedoor.”
They brought Ulric up to date on the latest news about Belthasar. And though Artemas and the others felt certain that their adversary still inhabited the famous actor Elvin L. Cooper, they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure that he would remain there. Belthasar had the world’s population for the taking.
“How we’ll ever get him out of our world is anybody’s guess,” Mr. Jordan said. “And if we succeed, what then?”
“If anyone can figure out a solution, Artemas can!” Molly chimed in confidently. “Right, Artemas?”
“Hmmm… What was that, Molly?” the magician replied distractedly, again staring broodingly into the firelight. The quandary that was Belthasar hung heavily upon him like a lead weight around his neck. “We’ll find a way, I suppose.”
“Not if we stand around in this kitchen all day,” Mr. Smithers said. “We’re on a strict timetable.”
“Quite right.” Artemas clapped his hands sharply. “We were on our way to see King Rupert and Queen Eleanor before we got sidetracked. Let’s continue before time runs out. I have a few duties to attend to in the meantime.”
They took their leave of Ulric and hurried to visit the royal couple, eventually greeting King Rupert and his wife in one of their private chambers. And though it had not quite been a full Endoran year since Emma and Queen Eleanor had last met, they hugged each other amid tears and laughter as if it had been half a lifetime. King Rupert welcomed everybody to his castle, beaming with pride as light from the snapping flames in the fireplace reflected off the delicate crown of gold poised on his head of silver hair.
“I would have prepared a feast, but I know you have only enough time to escort Emma back here for her visit before you must return with Artemas,” King Rupert said.
“Perhaps when the timedoor reopens the second time, you might be able to stay longer,” Queen Eleanor hoped, her long red hair gathered atop her head and tied with a wispy ribbon of gold.
“However, we can share a loaf of currant bread and some winter ale before you depart,” King Rupert insisted. “Both go particularly well with conversation among old friends.”
“We’ll definitely take you up on the conversation portion of your offer,” Mr. Jordan replied. “We have much to tell you.”
“How about a tour of your castle while we talk?” Molly suggested. “While King Jeremiah’s castle is practically a second home to my brother and me, we really haven’t had the chance to explore much of this place.”
“Great idea!” Christopher said, urging King Rupert to give them a condensed sightseeing tour in the short time they had left.
King Rupert readily agreed and escorted Christopher, Molly, Mr. Jordan and Mr. Smithers on a whirlwind tour. Along the way, they updated the King on the latest information regarding Belthasar. Emma and Queen Eleanor remained behind to chat in front of the fireplace, catching up on the last year over a kettle of hot raspberry tea and fresh biscuits. Artemas excused himself from both gatherings to attend to a few items that he claimed needed his immediate attention. He promised to catch up with the others in a short while to accompany them back through the timedoor before it closed in less than two hours. Then he sped off to his chamber.
Artemas paced across the stone floor of his chamber, hands clasped behind his back, eyes affixed to the ground like nails into wood. Dozens of ideas fluttered about in his mind–beginnings, middles and endings of various plans to once and for all rid the two worlds of Belthasar. He blamed himself for causing the entire mess by inventing the timedoor in the first place, thus creating Belthasar’s spirit and giving it the power to wage his wars. But what to do?
Artemas flung both doors to the balcony wide open, allowing additional sunlight to enter the chamber. Bunches of the remaining roses previously protected in shadow faded into nothingness. Artemas sighed with disgust, chiding himself for wasting time on another failed experiment. Though he had nearly created a living thing with magic, he had no time to fiddle around on such spells now that Belthasar was on the loose, and even less time to conjure up a bouquet of magical roses to impress Mina Mayfield.
Artemas needed some fresh air and stepped onto the balcony and gazed out across the plains stretching northward. Though the last gray days of winter were shriveling up and allowing the green of spring to gain a foothold, patches of snow still clung to the higher elevations of the mountains in the west. Artemas gripped the balcony railing as a cool breeze washed through his long gray hair, feeling as alone and isolated as Mount Maricel, the tallest peak
in the western chain that loomed in the distance. Artemas closed his eyes, imagining himself on top of that mountain and looking at the landscape below, wondering if his current plight would appear any different to him from that perspective.
The wind continued to gust cool and sharp. A blue jay’s cry echoed among pine trees far below. Suddenly Artemas snapped open his eyes as an icy shiver shot up his spine. He gazed wide-eyed into the vastness before him as his mind fitted rambling thoughts together like the pieces of a floating jigsaw puzzle. He had an idea!
He ran inside and scoured through a dozen long pieces of rolled parchment, each tied with a silk cord. He fumbled through the rolls until he found the one he needed, untied the cord and spread the parchment on a table once piled high with roses but now flooded with sunlight. Artemas grabbed four stone jars of potions and placed one on each corner of the parchment to hold it in place, then studied the brown, blue and black etchings imprinted on the map before him.
The magician mumbled to himself, his thoughts in a whirlwind as his eyes scanned over the rivers, mountains, trees and plains representing a small section of terrain within the kingdom of Endora. Then he found it, a tiny spot on the map that grabbed his attention and wouldn’t let go. He tapped his finger upon it and traced a circle around the spot several times with his fingernail, hardly aware that he had scratched a series of ringed lines into the map. He remembered this place from his previous travels, though he hadn’t passed through that area in years.
“Hey, how’s it going in there?”
Artemas jumped in surprise and quickly pushed aside two of the stone jars so that the map rolled up by itself. He spun around and saw Molly poking her head through the doorway.
“Dear me, child, but next time be sure to knock!” he pleaded, stepping away from the table. “Is King Rupert’s tour finished already?”
“Not quite, Artemas. And sorry for scaring you like that,” she replied. “We’re just around the corner in the next corridor, so I thought I’d stop by to see how you’re doing. Maybe you can join us soon when you’re finished in here.”
“Actually, I have completed my work in this chamber, Molly. But there still remains a bit of research I must attend to in the library at the end of the passageway. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll catch up with your tour before we return through the timedoor.” Artemas tugged uneasily at his beard. “Is it a deal?”
“I guess it’ll have to be,” Molly said, crinkling her brow. “You work too hard, Artemas. You do need a vacation! Hurry if you can.”
“I’ll try,” he promised as Molly scooted away and the door closed, leaving the room in near silence. The whistle of a cool breeze swirled across the balcony and in through the open doors, carrying a hint of springtime. “I’ll most certainly try,” he softly said, leaving the remaining roses and the rolled up map behind as he darted out the door.
Over an hour had passed when Molly returned to Artemas’ chamber, this time accompanied by Christopher and her father, Mr. Smithers, Emma, King Rupert and Queen Eleanor. Since Artemas had never joined them on their castle tour, everyone expected him to be in his chamber as the moment drew near for the timedoor to close.
“Where could that magician be?” Mr. Smithers asked, peeking out on the balcony.
“Busy as usual!” Molly said. “He told me earlier that he needed to stop in the library down the corridor to do a bit of research. No doubt he’s still there.”
“Then let’s go and drag him back,” Christopher said, signaling for Molly to follow him out the door. “We’ll be back in a flash!”
“Don’t take any wrong turns,” their father jokingly warned. “We’ll keep an eye on the timedoor.”
Christopher and Molly slipped out of the chamber and sped down the corridor toward the room at the very end. They had never been inside the castle library and were anxious to compare it to the one back home. A large wooden door was slightly ajar when they approached. Molly was about to call out Artemas’ name before they entered the room, but had second thoughts, not wanting to startle him again especially if he was in the middle of something important. She put a cautionary finger to her lips, though her brother merely sighed.
They stepped inside the room ablaze with sunshine streaming in through five large oval windows along one wall, each pane crisscrossed with metal lattice work. The ceiling gently sloped upward on each side and met at a single line running the length of the room. Glass enclosed cabinets against the walls contained hundreds of scrolls and loose pages of parchment. A dozen wooden chairs were scattered about, and several hand-woven rugs sported elaborate geometrical designs in shades of red, blue, gold and green. Large lush and leafy plants sprouted out of huge wooden containers, some showcasing intricate carvings of sprawling oak trees or leaping deer, while others depicted the sun and the stars or a bird in flight.
Molly instantly fell in love with the room, imagining herself hiding out in here for hours while lost in the pages of one of her detective novels. How exciting it would be to sift through the clues of a daunting mystery, attempting to put together the pieces of the puzzle side by side with the great Sherlock Holmes–and without her brother around to bother her. In her rush of enthusiasm, Molly was surprised that nobody else was using the library at the moment. It looked completely empty.
She wondered where Artemas was hiding, ready to complain to Christopher when he raised a hand, cautioning her to be silent. He pointed toward the far end of the room. Molly steered her gaze in that direction, suddenly noticing what she had earlier missed upon first glance. In the back corner of the library, partially concealed behind one of the enormous potted plants, stood Artemas, his back to them, apparently talking to someone. Christopher and Molly quietly inched their way toward him. One of the larger cabinets helped to block them from his view.
Artemas spoke in hushed tones. Most of his words they could neither hear nor understand. When Christopher and Molly tried to get a better glimpse through the branches of the plant, they stopped dead in their tracks. Artemas continued to speak, unaware that they stood nearby, his face stone frozen in the most serious feat of concentration they had ever witnessed. What surprised the Jordan siblings most was the fact that Artemas was talking to himself. Except for his moving lips and occasional blinking eyes, he stood as still as a tree in front of an elongated oval mirror framed within an oak stand. Christopher and Molly watched in perplexed fascination as he whispered his mysterious monologue into the mirror. Christopher finally nudged his sister, not feeling comfortable spying on their friend. With a slight turn of his head, he indicated that they should leave at once. Molly nodded in agreement and they departed.
Christopher and Molly returned to the library a couple minutes later, this time making enough noise to grab Artemas’ attention. He emerged from the library just as they neared the doorway, appearing tired and disoriented.
“It’s almost time, Artemas,” Christopher casually said.
“So it is,” he replied, rubbing his forehead. “I seem to have lost track of time while I was doing–my research.” He smiled at Molly. “Sorry I missed the tour.”
“Next time,” she said, leading him back to his chamber.
Shortly after, King Rupert thanked everyone for visiting his castle, then he, Queen Eleanor and Emma said goodbye to Artemas, Mr. Smithers and the Jordans, looking forward to seeing them in another week or so. Emma hugged her husband tightly, having second thoughts about leaving him for the first time since their marriage. Stanley Smithers assured his wife that he would be counting the minutes until they saw each other once again. Moments later, the five travelers stepped into the timedoor and through the starry darkness. Several minutes after that, the timedoor closed with its usual thunderous clap.
“Back to real winter,” Mr. Jordan said as a cold December gust greeted them underneath the bridge.
Molly shivered as they climbed up the snowy embankment. “A part of me always feels sad when I leave Endora, even if I’ve been there for only a couple hours.�
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“Me too,” Christopher said, glancing at Artemas. “How do you feel after you leave our world?”
“I must admit that I experience similar pangs of melancholy,” he replied, gently rubbing his temples. “However, now I simply have a throbbing headache.”
“Like I said earlier, Artemas–you work too hard!” Molly quipped.
“Perhaps so.”
When they returned to the parking lot, Mr. Jordan started the car and then everyone waited inside the restaurant until it warmed up. This allowed Artemas a few moments to run upstairs to the apartment and get some aspirin from Mr. Smithers while Christopher and Molly enjoyed a soda with their father at the front bar. While Artemas was gone, Molly told her father how she and Christopher had found him talking to himself in the mirror in the castle library. She wondered if Artemas had taken her advice about practicing what he wanted to say to Miss Mayfield.
“What else could it be?” she asked.
“Whatever his reason for talking into a mirror, it’s none of our business,” Mr. Jordan said, ending the discussion once and for all just as Artemas and Mr. Smithers returned.
“Feeling better, Artemas?” Christopher asked.
“Not likely,” Mr. Smithers said with an apologetic shrug. “Out of aspirin.”
“Mom will have some at home,” Molly said.
“I’d much appreciate it,” Artemas replied with a discouraging sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “What a dreadful way to start my vacation!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Endless E-Mails
Christopher, Molly and Artemas marched through the wintry streets to the public library the following morning. Blazing sunshine reflected off waist-high snow banks along city sidewalks, and every breath of air tasted frosty and dry. Bony maple trees creaked and moaned when catching breezes in their web of branches, while a pair of blue jays darted among the slender pines in the city park, their bending boughs lightly dusted with snow. A scattering of button-eyed and carrot-nosed snowmen congregated on front lawns throughout the neighborhood.
The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series) Page 49
