The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series)

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The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series) Page 55

by Thomas J. Prestopnik


  “Plan to do? Why, I’ve already accomplished quite a bit over this past year. I decided that I like living in your world ever since I arrived here in a mosquito on the back of that mangy dog of yours.”

  “Magic isn’t mangy!” Vergil shouted.

  “So that’s how you managed it,” Mr. Jordan said with a nod. “I must admit it was a clever move. You had us all fooled.”

  “Save the false compliments. I won’t let my guard down,” Christopher said with a raised eyebrow. “I still have much to do, only now I must do it sooner than expected thanks to your insatiable need to meddle in my affairs. I was happy living on the other side of this vast country, some days not even thinking about my desire to destroy you. But this family couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

  “Did we put a crimp in your plan to enjoy a life of leisure at someone else’s expense?” Molly said, pressing her hands to her face in mock horror. “Oops! Didn’t mean to!”

  “That brazen attitude will get you in trouble one of these days,” Christopher said as the spirit of Belthasar churned inside him. “Mark my words!”

  “I think it’s gotten me out of a lot of trouble,” Molly replied with a satisfied grin. “Most of it caused by you, by the way. That brazen attitude keeps me sharp.”

  “Wel, obviously not too sharp since I passed into Lucy right under your very nose,” he said, plopping down in the swivel chair and planting his feet on the desktop. “I followed the three of you as a bird that day you walked to the library. A short time later I found another unwitting accomplice to assist me. In fact, Artemas helped me up the stairs by the arm while your brother opened the door for me,” he said with a laugh.

  Molly recalled an elderly woman in a maroon coat with a fur collar they had met outside the library that morning. She wore a pair of light red earmuffs, carried an armful of books–and housed the spirit of Belthasar. Molly scratched her head.

  “We suspected you were inside that lady after she nearly fainted by the front desk,” Molly said. “She handed that man, Mr. Porter, some bookmarkers, then became dizzy. Christopher ran outside after him, but Mr. Porter took off in his car. Artemas and I also watched him leave.”

  Christopher glanced at Lucy, who continued to sleep soundly on the floor, before flashing a snakelike smile. “I only pretended to get dizzy when I handed Mr. Porter the bookmarkers, wanting to make you think I had passed into him. Then you and Lucy, being such kind souls, both reached out to help the old lady. I took refuge inside Lucy when she grabbed my hand, and that’s when the lady nearly fainted again, only this time for real. And so I, as Lucy, went about my business, using my acting skills to play the part of the wildly and weirdly dressed twenty-year-old college student and library assistant.” Christopher crossed his arms, leaned back in the chair and smiled. “Clever, don’t you think? And since you had offered to arrange a tour of the museum for Lucy through your father, she was the perfect choice to recruit as a spy, enabling me to keep an eye on all of you while I made my plans.”

  “Deviously clever,” Mr. Jordan said.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Take it however you want,” Mrs. Jordan chimed in. “But I’ll ask you again. What are your plans?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I think I’ll take a trip to Endora for starters,” Christopher replied, jumping up from his seat. “Now that I know the timedoor is reopening soon, a brief visit back might be enjoyable, especially since nobody will know it’s really me.” He grunted, recalling Artemas’ words in the park on New Year’s Eve. “The old magician planned to take you to a restaurant called Rupert’s Place on Thursday at five o’clock? Doesn’t take a genius to decipher that bit of code!”

  “Don’t take my brother away!” Vergil said. “You can’t take him to Endora!”

  “Can and will!” Suddenly Christopher spoke very softly and wiped away a pretend tear rolling down his cheek. “And wouldn’t it be a shame if your brother somehow got lost on the other side of the timedoor and never returned? It’s a distinct possibility if I should find a more worthy subject to inhabit.”

  “Take me instead!” Mr. Jordan offered, keeping his rage in check, though all he imagined doing was ripping through the metal enclosure to get at Belthasar.

  “Or me!” Mrs. Jordan jumped in. “After all, I helped ruin your coronation. You might have been King of Solárin right now if I hadn’t interfered.”

  “How noble that you’d both sacrifice yourselves to save your children,” Christopher said, his eyes pale and lifeless. “But as much as you have done to destroy me, your children have done even more! Let them pay the price. This one first,” he said, pointing to his chest. “I’ll deal with you later!” Christopher added, glaring at Molly as he slammed the chair into the desk with his foot. “And now, I must be off. It was such a pleasure to see you all again,” he said with a hollow laugh as he headed toward the door. “Until next time.”

  “That’s what you think,” Molly whispered to herself as she rushed at Christopher and leaped up on his back before he could leave. “If you deal with one of us, bug brain, you deal with all of us!” she cried, covering her brother’s eyes with one hand and leaning backward until they both tumbled to the floor.

  “Don’t toy with me, urchin, or I’ll take you instead!” screamed the voice of Belthasar as they both struggled to their feet.

  “You couldn’t catch me, slow poke, if I drew you a map!” she taunted, scrambling across the room toward the lockup. Vergil and her parents helplessly watched with a heart-pounding mix of terror and fascination. “You’ll never get the best of me, Belthasar. You don’t have it in you, loser!”

  “I’ll show you, Molly Jordan!” he said, sprinting down the room like an angry bull. “There’s no escape,” the spirit of Belthasar gleefully cried as Molly backed herself against the metal latticework, unable to avoid her enemy’s swift approach. “You’re trapped! Nobody’s here to save you now!” he cried, grabbing Molly’s wrist with both hands as his body slammed against the metal cage.

  “We’re here!” a trio of voices shouted. Several arms reached through the openings in the cage like a flurry of binding ropes and grabbed hold of Christopher and Molly, holding them as if they would never let go. Molly latched on to her brother’s wrist with her free hand as her parents locked their arms around her and Christopher. Even Vergil knelt down and wrapped an arm around one leg of each of his siblings, closing his eyes and holding on for dear life.

  The spirit of Belthasar seethed with rage and tried to free himself from the Jordan family, passing with a blinding fury between Christopher and Molly. But he couldn’t break the human chains that bound the family together. He attempted to subdue Mr. and Mrs. Jordan, but whomever he inhabited and tried to control, the other members of the family held on tightly and wouldn’t let go.

  Belthasar grew angry and bitter and frustrated as his spirit shifted from one person to the next, unable to establish his dominance in any individual. He felt as if he were trapped in a minnow’s body at the bottom of that pond again, swimming in blinding circles with no escape. And amid breathing and heartbeats and the rush of blood, Belthasar heard a voice of defiance growing louder and louder. You will never destroy this family! How it enraged him. Together we’re stronger than you’ll ever be! The voice seared his mind like white hot fire. He grew tired and weak and couldn’t think. The words echoed in his mind as the life was drained out of him.

  “We’re a family and we’ll stick together no matter what!” Mrs. Jordan cried as she tightened her grip around the only thing in this world that mattered to her. “Make no mistake, Belthasar–we will fight you to the end!”

  They continued to hold on as the wild storm whirled in chaotic fits, fending off black shadows of despair and destruction that circled like a hungry pack of wolves. Time seemed to evaporate as the Jordan family huddled together in the midst of the squall, wondering if the turmoil would ever cease or if the light of day would ever shine upon them aga
in. Suddenly, Mrs. Jordan felt the warmth of a tender touch wash over her like a spring breeze. The caring words of a familiar voice floated among the mayhem.

  “Allow me to lend a helping hand,” Artemas said, his palm gently resting upon Mrs. Jordan’s arm still securely wrapped around her family. The magician’s face tightened and he took a deep breath, his voice now brimming with strength and determination. “Pick on someone from your own world, Belthasar, if you dare!”

  Artemas instantly stood as straight as an arrow and stepped backward, removing his hand from Mrs. Jordan’s arm. A crash of color swirled in his eyes, a mix of gray and ocean blue fighting one another for dominance. The Jordans slowly looked up, dazed and tired, yet filled with undying hope. The first storm had abated.

  “Artemas, what happened?” Molly cried, about to rush over to him.

  “Stay– back!” Artemas uttered, his words forced and flat and his face muscles taut with pain. “Don’t get– near– me.”

  Christopher clenched his jaw, his mind on fire with disdain for Belthasar. “He’s inside you, isn’t he, Artemas.”

  “Clever boy!” Artemas replied, his words now laced with spite. “He’s figured out the obvious. But what are you going to do about it?”

  “Just you wait and see!” Molly cried. “You haven’t won yet, Belthasar.”

  “Oh, but I think I have. I’ve just acquired the mighty Artemas and–”

  “He doesn’t– have me totally– yet, Mol–”

  Artemas struggled to speak through the smothering spirit of Belthasar. Flashes of blue danced about in his eyes amid a growing gray storm.

  “This magician is a tougher challenge to conquer than most,” Belthasar replied, quickly regaining the upper hand. “A worthy opponent. And though it would be easier to retake one of you annoying children, I think I found a better deal. I–” His eyes suddenly widened and a sly smile crept across the magician’s face. “What’s this I sense? Strange words floating all about this wonderfully creative mind. Findelgundygro? Grape vines? I see images of colorful potions and elegant handwriting on parchment scrolls.” Belthasar feigned an expression of concern as he tried to tap further into Artemas’ mind. “Oh, and I see you have quite a fondness for a certain Mina Mayfield. How touching!” He gleefully rubbed his hands. “This is a better choice than either of you children. I’m going to get quite an education in the magical arts. I’ll learn all sorts of things, though I sense, Artemas, that you’re struggling to keep me out of your innermost thoughts. No problem. I’ll have plenty of time to study.”

  “Leave him alone!” Molly said.

  “Yeah, Belthasar. Why don’t you inhabit a swamp rat instead?” Christopher suggested. “That’s more your style.”

  “How predictably unamusing,” Belthasar replied with a yawn. “I think you two are jealous that Artemas’ mind presents more of a challenge than either of yours ever could. I absorbed your scattered thoughts in mere moments, though I never had any interest to closely examine them.” Belthasar grunted. “Artemas offers me magic spells and timedoors and consultations with a King. All I got in the time I inhabited you two was, let’s see–visions of amusement parks–how exciting!–echoes of your endless sibling bickering, and–” Belthasar gasped as he gazed at Christopher and Molly, unable to speak for a moment as he processed the information he now realized he possessed.

  “What’s the matter, Belthasar? Cat got your tongue?” Mr. Jordan said to egg him on.

  “Don’t say cat,” Mrs. Jordan replied as she stood next to her husband inside the lockup. “I don’t think he likes that word.”

  “Perhaps our children have a few thoughts your tiny brain can’t grasp, Belthasar.”

  Artemas took a step closer. “On the contrary. Christopher and Molly both have some interesting memories–quite recent ones–that intrigue me very much. Memories about a rose.” A serpent’s smile spread across his face. “So after much trial and error, Artemas has finally learned to create a living thing. How extraordinarily amazing! But for some reason, he is using every bit of his strength to keep me from seeing those thoughts in his mind. Luckily I had you two to fill me in on the details.”

  “Why do you care about his magic anyway?” Christopher said. “You’ll never have the talent to use it.”

  “I have plenty of time to learn,” Belthasar replied, raising an eyebrow. “And wouldn’t it be wonderful if…”

  “If what?” Molly said with a trace of exasperation.

  “Well, since Artemas has finally discovered how to create another living thing that won’t vanish in sunlight, imagine how wonderful it would be to create another one of–me!”

  As bad a situation as they were in right now, the Jordans had never thought it could get any worse. But the cold, clammy ache simultaneously forming in the pits of their stomachs told them otherwise. Mr. and Mrs. Jordan locked gazes, knowing each other’s thoughts. The only horror worse than the spirit of Belthasar roaming freely among the people was another Belthasar himself wandering about, only this time equipped with Artemas’ magical abilities but with none of the magician’s decency and honor. Christopher and Molly glanced at their parents and brother trapped behind the metal caging, feeling like prisoners themselves.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Belthasar taunted at their loss for words. “No matter. You can stay here with your chins to the floor while I’ll return to Endora. I must regain my magical strength, after all, before I can implement my new and improved Great Plan! And won’t that be a sight to see when it’s finished!”

  “You won’t get away with this, Belthasar,” Christopher said.

  “Already have.”

  “And don’t think we’re not going to try and stop you,” Molly added, though clueless as to how to begin.

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t try,” he smugly replied as he opened the door to leave. He briefly glanced over his shoulder. “But I think we all know that this tedious game is finally over, and you’re stuck on the losing side. So until next time!”

  Without another word, Artemas stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him, whisked away by the triumphant spirit of Belthasar.

  “Where’s the key?” Christopher cried a moment later. He scoured the top of the desk and rifled through the drawers searching for it.

  Molly knelt beside Lucy to examine her. She still slept soundly and her breathing appeared normal. “You tossed it down a ventilation duct, Chris! Don’t you remember?”

  “There’s got to be a spare! We have to free Mom, Dad and Vergil and then go after Belthasar.”

  “Christopher! Molly! Over here on the double!” their father ordered.

  “Hurry!” Mrs. Jordan said as Vergil clutched her side.

  “We’ll have you free in no time,” Christopher promised as he and Molly hurried to the metal enclosure.

  “That’s the point,” Mr. Jordan calmly explained. “There is no time. You have to go after him now.”

  Mrs. Jordan nodded as her eyes teared up. “You must warn King Rupert, Ulric and the others. With Belthasar in their midst, well, you know what can happen. He has to be stopped.”

  “But what about us?” Vergil asked, tugging on his mother’s hand.

  “Someone will stop down here eventually, so don’t worry,” Mr. Jordan assured them. “You have to go back through the timedoor now. No time to lose!” He smiled for an instant and laughed. “I can’t believe I’m saying that!”

  “We’ll follow you as soon as we can,” Mrs. Jordan said, taking them each by the hand. “And be extra careful this time!”

  “We will, Mom,” Molly said, kissing her on the cheek.

  “I know you can handle whatever Belthasar throws your way,” Mr. Jordan said, taking Christopher’s hand in his.

  “Been there, done that,” he replied with a wink.

  “Still, this is a whole new ballgame, so keep a sharp eye. Both of you!”

  “We promise!” Molly said.

  She and Christopher hugged their parents
and Vergil through the metal barrier as best they could before scrambling out of the room, expecting to face their most perilous trip through the timedoor.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The First Note

  Christopher and Molly ran through the snow-packed streets toward the edge of town as a burst of flurries descended from battleship gray skies. But as fast as they moved, dodging traffic and pedestrians along the way, they still found no sign of Artemas in the wintry landscape.

  “It’s as if he disappeared,” Molly said, slightly out of breath. “How can someone his age run so fast?”

  “That beard may make him look older than he really is, but I don’t think Artemas is ready for a retirement home yet!” Christopher said. “I believe it’s more Belthasar than Artemas who’s running so fast right now.”

  “You’re probably right,” she said as they reached the road leading out of town. It would eventually take them past Mr. Smithers’ restaurant to the bridge stretching across the river. At that very moment underneath it, the timedoor stood open for the second time.

  “We’re almost there,” Christopher said. “A few more minutes and we’ll be in Endora.”

  “Good. Then we won’t need these heavy jackets anymore. Artemas mentioned in the park that today is the last day of winter in Endora and the last day of their year. So tomorrow will be spring. I can’t wait!”

  “That doesn’t always mean warmth and sunshine. We still might face some rocky weather ahead,” her brother cautioned. “In more ways than one.”

  Molly sighed. “Sometimes you’re such a wet blanket, Christopher Jordan.” They walked along the edge of the road to catch their breaths as a line of bare and bony trees kept watch.

  “Look on the bright side, Molly. Just think how happy you’ll be to prove me wrong!”

  “Well, there is that,” she said, flashing a brief smile.

  In time, they hurried past Mr. Smithers’ restaurant. The building stood lonely and grim, its dark windows reflecting the swirl of black and gray clouds that drifted by. Not a car was in sight.

 

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