Read Online The End of Time by P. W. Catanese, David Ho - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: P. W. Catanese, David Ho
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy fiction, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Magic, Fantasy & Magic, Adventure and Adventurers, Fairy Tales & Folklore, Good and Evil, Legends; Myths; Fables, Adventure fiction, Imaginary wars and battles, Space and Time, Country & Ethnic, Compact Discs
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concern in Umber’s smile. “Of course,” Umber said, putting his hand on Fendofel’s shoulder. “We have here my dear friend Balfour; the always delightful Oates; and the kingdom’s finest archer and artist, young Sophie. But this young man you have not met,” Umber said, with an open hand aimed at Hap. “This is my ward, Happenstance. Or Hap for short.”
Fendofel leaned toward Hap, squinting and grinning. There was a silver chain around his neck with a locket that held an enormous green crystal. The old wizard reached toward Hap, and a thin, bony arm slid from the loose sleeve. His hands were spotted by age, with soil caked in the wrinkles and under the nails, and Hap was sure he saw a patch of lichen growing on the wrist. “Happenstance. What an excellent name . . . and my, what eyes you have!”
Hap was usually bothered by the attention his eyes drew, but he felt nothing but warmth for this fragile, charming man. “Thank you,” he replied, with a smile that came easily.
“Your eyes are green ,” the old man said. He winked at Hap. “The finest of colors! Come in, all of you, come in!”
They crossed the bridge that spanned the moat. Aquatic plants teemed in the water, with blossoms on the surface. One specimen propelled itself through the water by wriggling its roots behind it. There was a splash, and another plant rose from the water with a squirming frog inside spiked, leafy jaws. “Ew,” Hap said, gaping.
When they stepped inside the building, Hap’s lips formed a silent whistle. The arms of Dendra had grown steadily thicker the closer they came to the roots. Inside the arches the red-lashed vines were as thick as pillars.
Under the center of the dome, Dendra had sprouted long ago, erupting like a volcano through the thick foundation. The arms all sprang from a massive round growth, easily a dozen feet across, with the bumpy skin of a gourd. Dendra was never still for long; every so often one of the arms would give a little shrug, or the tip of a vine would slither back inside the dome.
Benches of stone were all around, with mats of moss on the seats. Fendofel eased himself down with a happy sigh. “Oh yes, Umber, you must tell me: How is the tree of many fruits? Is it well?”
Umber froze for a moment, and his eyes softened. “It thrives, my friend,” he said. He looked carefully at the old wizard. Hap’s glance met Balfour’s, and Balfour raised his eyebrows.
“I’m very glad to hear it,” Fendofel said with a contented smile. One of Dendra’s fat arms slid across the stone floor and rubbed gently against Fendofel’s leg. It looked to Hap like something an affectionate cat might do. “But what brings you here, my dear boy?”
“It’s been too long since my last visit,” Umber said, squeezing the old wizard’s arm. “But really, I came for your advice.”
“My advice, eh?” said Fendofel, straightening up and lifting his chin. “And I’m happy to give it. But I want the truth first: How have you been? Honestly, now.”
“Me?” Umber’s gaze dropped. “Oh, I’ve been fine.”
“What do you mean, fine?” roared Oates. “You were moping for weeks. We thought you’d waste away and die.”
Umber slung a lethal glare at Oates. “I think I’ll take a walk,” Oates muttered.
“Oates, there’s a plant just outside, covered with razor-sharp needles,” Umber said.
Oates stared back from the archway. “So?”
“I’d like you to sit on it,” Umber said. Oates rolled his eyes and left the dome.
Fendofel tapped his fingers together and gave Umber a reproachful frown. “At least he’s honest. There’s no reason to hide anything from me, Umber, you scamp.”
“I don’t want you to worry,” Umber said quietly.
“Ridiculous. I can help you, silly boy,” Fendofel said, smiling. “I’ve been working on something for you, and it’s finally ready.” He reached down and touched the vine by his knee. “Dendra, fetch the elatia, will you?”
Another arm
Fendofel leaned toward Hap, squinting and grinning. There was a silver chain around his neck with a locket that held an enormous green crystal. The old wizard reached toward Hap, and a thin, bony arm slid from the loose sleeve. His hands were spotted by age, with soil caked in the wrinkles and under the nails, and Hap was sure he saw a patch of lichen growing on the wrist. “Happenstance. What an excellent name . . . and my, what eyes you have!”
Hap was usually bothered by the attention his eyes drew, but he felt nothing but warmth for this fragile, charming man. “Thank you,” he replied, with a smile that came easily.
“Your eyes are green ,” the old man said. He winked at Hap. “The finest of colors! Come in, all of you, come in!”
They crossed the bridge that spanned the moat. Aquatic plants teemed in the water, with blossoms on the surface. One specimen propelled itself through the water by wriggling its roots behind it. There was a splash, and another plant rose from the water with a squirming frog inside spiked, leafy jaws. “Ew,” Hap said, gaping.
When they stepped inside the building, Hap’s lips formed a silent whistle. The arms of Dendra had grown steadily thicker the closer they came to the roots. Inside the arches the red-lashed vines were as thick as pillars.
Under the center of the dome, Dendra had sprouted long ago, erupting like a volcano through the thick foundation. The arms all sprang from a massive round growth, easily a dozen feet across, with the bumpy skin of a gourd. Dendra was never still for long; every so often one of the arms would give a little shrug, or the tip of a vine would slither back inside the dome.
Benches of stone were all around, with mats of moss on the seats. Fendofel eased himself down with a happy sigh. “Oh yes, Umber, you must tell me: How is the tree of many fruits? Is it well?”
Umber froze for a moment, and his eyes softened. “It thrives, my friend,” he said. He looked carefully at the old wizard. Hap’s glance met Balfour’s, and Balfour raised his eyebrows.
“I’m very glad to hear it,” Fendofel said with a contented smile. One of Dendra’s fat arms slid across the stone floor and rubbed gently against Fendofel’s leg. It looked to Hap like something an affectionate cat might do. “But what brings you here, my dear boy?”
“It’s been too long since my last visit,” Umber said, squeezing the old wizard’s arm. “But really, I came for your advice.”
“My advice, eh?” said Fendofel, straightening up and lifting his chin. “And I’m happy to give it. But I want the truth first: How have you been? Honestly, now.”
“Me?” Umber’s gaze dropped. “Oh, I’ve been fine.”
“What do you mean, fine?” roared Oates. “You were moping for weeks. We thought you’d waste away and die.”
Umber slung a lethal glare at Oates. “I think I’ll take a walk,” Oates muttered.
“Oates, there’s a plant just outside, covered with razor-sharp needles,” Umber said.
Oates stared back from the archway. “So?”
“I’d like you to sit on it,” Umber said. Oates rolled his eyes and left the dome.
Fendofel tapped his fingers together and gave Umber a reproachful frown. “At least he’s honest. There’s no reason to hide anything from me, Umber, you scamp.”
“I don’t want you to worry,” Umber said quietly.
“Ridiculous. I can help you, silly boy,” Fendofel said, smiling. “I’ve been working on something for you, and it’s finally ready.” He reached down and touched the vine by his knee. “Dendra, fetch the elatia, will you?”
Another arm
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