Beyond the Wide Wall: Humorous Fantasy (Epic Fallacy Book 2)

by Michael James Ploof

  “Whatever ye be callin’ it, I ain’t for likin’ it.”

  “We shoulda stuck up for him,” said the double solemnly, a hint of blame in his eyes. “We shoulda told them other dwarves right where to stick it.”

  “That wouldn’t be—”

  “What, nice? There be a time and a place for everythin’, Gib. There be a time to be lovin’, and there be a time to be fierce. Take what happened with the snake; ye didn’t survive that by bein’ nice. Ye did what ye had to.”

  “It be different with people.”

  “How so? Ye and Gill cowered from them bullies, and in the end, they killed him anyway. Ye shoulda fought, ye shoulda stuck up for yerself.”

  “Me pa said that—”

  “Just because he be yer pa, ain’t meanin’ he be right ‘bout everythin’. Ye be a full-grown dwarf, it be time for ye to make up yer own mind on things.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Or what? Ye know I be right, ‘cause me thoughts be yer thoughts. I be ye, and ye be me.”

  Gibrig tried to walk past his double, but the dwarf blocked the way and gave him a small shove.

  “Move,” said Gibrig.

  “Or what?”

  Another shove.

  Gibrig tried to go around him, but again his way was blocked.

  “Make way!”

  “That’s more like it,” said his double, smiling. He shoved him again.

  The little fire that had been lit inside Gibrig turned into a raging pyre in an instant. He swung before he knew it and caught his doppelganger in the chin.

  And just like that, the double was gone. Gibrig blinked, glancing around at the blazing desert. Willow came up behind him and slapped his back, startling him.

  “Eeck!” he yelped.

  “Snap out of it, Gib.”

  “Huh?” he said. He looked around and found his double, trudging along with the other mimics. Brannon and Sir Eldrick were far ahead, about to crest a dune.

  “You been standing there for near on a full minute.”

  “I have?”

  “Yup. What the hells you staring at?” Willow giggled and ruffled his hair. “Come on, crazy.”

  Gibrig shook his head, trying to clear it, wondering if it had all been an illusion.

  ***

  The sun beat down on Murland, searing his exposed skin. The heat of the desert sat heavy on his shoulders, and though he was weightless beneath his flying backpack, he felt the heat pressing upon him, shortening his breath and clouding his mind. He didn’t know how the others were doing it. At least he had the wind to cool his skin. Without it, he thought that he might just shrivel up and fall like a dry leaf to the burning sands below.

  He had been on lookout for hours, but had yet to see anything but the ocean of sand with its dunes, like golden waves, frozen in time. With nothing much else to look at, he often found himself spying his doppelganger from afar. He wondered about the creature; was it a fairy, spirit, some sort of desert mind-bender? He did not know. When first they had appeared, Murland had thought that he must be dreaming. His double’s ability to use magic was disturbing to say the least. Only a trained wizard, or a rogue sorcerer, could cast the spell that Murland had cast. But somehow, his double had done it. More than once Murland wondered if indeed the doubles were the companions themselves. Perhaps they were caught up in some sort of time warp, or a strange curse. These thoughts inevitably led to Murland wondering if he and his friends were indeed the real version.

  How could he possibly know?

  “That’s ridiculous,” he said to the wind.

  He looked to his double again and found that it was veering his way. He thought to fly away to the south, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. Instead, he bravely steered his backpack to meet the doppelganger. They came to fly beside each other, gliding along on a hot current heading west.

  “Seen anything out there?” Murland asked, not knowing how else to break the ice.

  “Nothing. You?”

  “Nah.”

  They flew together for a few awkward moments. Murland stole a glimpse of the double, thinking that surely his own nose wasn’t that big.

  “You are wondering if your nose is really this big,” said the double.

  “How…how did you know that?”

  “Because I am you, and you are me.”

  “But how can that be?” Murland asked, noting the desperation in his own voice.

  “All I know is what you know.”

  Murland gave a sigh that was lost to the wind. A dizzy spell came over him then, and he pulled the cloth tighter around his head, trying to block out the sun. If his double’s sunburn was any indication, Murland’s face was badly burned and beginning to blister.

  “Well, I hope that we land and make camp soon,” said Murland, glancing back at the sun. “Then my friends and yours can all get to the bottom of this.”

  “You think they are your friends?” said the doppelganger.

  Murland was taken aback. “Of course I do. We’ve been through a lot together.”

  “You always were too quick to trust.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because, it is the truth. They are not your friends. They see through your clever disguise. They know what a fraud you are.”

  “I am the wielder of the wand of Allan Kazam. The prophecy—”

  “Prophecy,” the double said with a scoff. “You are no wizard, you know that as well as I. Any fool with a year’s training could cast a spell with that wand.”

  “I mended the wand,” said Murland. “That is proof.”

  “Is it?”

  “If you are me, then why would you say such things about…yourself?”

  “Because I am your only true friend, and friends tell each other the truth.”

  “I don’t even know you,” said Murland, realizing the irony of the statement.

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “Look, you’re not actually me, and you know that.”

  “Do I? Do you? I know everything that you know, and many things that you do not want to admit.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your fear of being a fraud. Your fear that Caressa will reject you. I know that you fear Drak’Noir more than anything, and you believe that you will all die.”

  “We’re the Champions of the Dragon,” said Murland weakly.

  “Please,” said the doppelganger. “If five fools can scare off the dragon every generation, how is she such a threat to all the kingdoms? Why not just send a small army to vanquish her once and for all?”

  These thoughts had been burning in the back of Murland’s mind for some time, but he had pushed them away, focusing instead on the road and his magic.

  “We cannot begin to understand the wisdom of the Most High Wizard.”

  “That is a convenient anecdote, is it not? How many religions have led men blindly to ruin with similar words?”

  “You say that you are me, but I do not speak or think that way.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “You ask many questions, but you give no answers.”

  “I have given you answers to questions that you are too afraid to ask.”

  “I have had just about enough of your riddles,” said Murland, and he steered his backpack south.

  His doppelganger followed, and yelled against the rushing wind. “You know that I speak the truth! Your own father doesn’t even believe in you. He paid the high wizards to take you when you failed the initial test. Why do you think that he hasn’t visited in almost a year?” The doppelganger caught up and glared sidelong at Murland.

  “You’re wrong,” was all Murland could say. But these were his thoughts and feelings. And Murland knew deep down that he believed them.

  “Caressa will never love you. Even if you somehow miraculously defeat Drak’Noir, she will never see you as anything more than a friend. She has only ever pitied you.”

  Murland shook his head, b
ut he could not deny the truth, or the hot tears that evaporated in the burning wind before they could be spilled.

  “You are being played for a fool, Murland, and you must be vigilant. You must prove them all wrong. Else it will be your head.”

  Murland turned a startled gaze on his double, but found that he was gone. He steered his backpack around in a circle, and was startled to find the doppelganger gliding far away to the north.

  ***

  Willow was sweating buckets. She was used to the humidity of the swamp, but in those wetlands a mist always hung in the air, keeping her scaly skin smooth and glistening. Here in the dry heat of the desert, Willow felt as though her large body had been stuffed into skin too tight. Her hands and feet were terribly dry and cracking, and her lips burned. A thick coat of dust had collected on the large tusks protruding from her bottom row of teeth, and her mouth was dry as bone. Her own water had run out a few hours ago, though it was supposed to last her the entire day. She could just see the look on Sir Eldrick’s face if she were to ask for more.

  “You out of water too?” her double asked.

  Willow hadn’t even seen the phony walking beside her. She scowled at the doppelganger, hoping that it would just go away.

  “I scare you, don’t I?”

  “Nothing scares me,” said Willow.

  The double gave a tusky grin. “The fat and powerful Willow!”

  Willow looked to the others, who were walking far ahead, but none of them seemed to have heard. “Go sit on a pile of croc dung,” she said.

  “You can pretend all you want around the others, but I know your fears.”

  Willow gulped, but she kept up her steely façade. “I call toad shit.”

  “Want to try me?” the double asked, grinning that dry, dusty grin. “I know that you fear that you will never find love. Few speak it, but everyone knows what a swamp floozy you are. Twenty ogre males under your belt. What would your father say?”

  Willow tried not to show her shock, and she turned her head as if hiding it from the sun.

  “You think that when you return victorious from Bad Mountain, the chief’s son will take you as a wife.” The doppelganger gave a laugh. “Why would he want a used-up trollop like you? Your appetite for food and drink is only outdone by your thirst for sweaty ogres breathing heavy beneath you.”

  “Yeah, well you say that you are me, that makes you just as bad,” said Willow. She stopped and turned to face the doppelganger. Large, unwavering eyes stared back.

  “And the poor, poor child you gave up. I know that she haunts your dreams.”

  “Shut your muddy mouth!”

  “What would your mother think to know that her only granddaughter is being raised by South Swamp blue-skins?”

  Willow cocked back her fist to punch the hateful mimic in the face, but all strength left her when she saw the face of her daughter in her mind’s eye; those big blue eyes to match her skin, and the shock of green hair sprouting from the crown of her little head like a fern.

  “Fern, that’s what you named her, isn’t it?”

  Willow cried out and lunged for the doppelganger, but suddenly the creature vanished, and Willow fell face first in the sand. She came up with caked sand on her wet cheeks and searched for her double.

  Far to the north, the mimics paced them.

  Chapter 32

  Harru

  Sir Eldrick stopped and fell to his knees. The sun was beginning to set, which meant that the cold would soon be upon them. He was covered in sweat, and had stripped out of his armor long ago. It was now strewn about the desert, to be found by one nomad or another, or it would be buried by sand and time; it did not matter.

  He began to think that they would never make it. The Long Sand still stretched out before them for miles, and if the coming night didn’t kill them, the doppelgangers would.

  He was sure of it.

  Murland landed in front of him and fell to his knees, sweat dripping from his brow. His exposed arms and face were reddish-purple and burnt, with blisters beginning to form on his cheeks. His proud nose was peeling and raw.

  “You’ve got to do something to relieve us of the cold of night, or we will not live to see the morning,” said Sir Eldrick.

  “I’m so hungry, and tired. I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “Of course he can’t,” came the voice of Murland’s doppelganger.

  Sir Eldrick whirled around, and upon seeing the five doubles standing before them, he unsheathed his fae sword and pushed Murland back. Willow, Brannon, and Gibrig rushed to stand with him.

  As the sun set, the two groups faced off.

  “We’ve had just about enough of you all,” said Gibrig, to everyone’s surprise.

  “Yeah, get lost!” said Willow, putting a hand on his shoulder and her big club over her own.

  Murland pulled out his wand, and Brannon unsheathed his long, curved elven blade.

  “You think that you can defeat us?” Sir Eldrick’s mimic asked. “We are the better versions of you.” He stepped forward and got in Sir Eldrick’s face. “I am not a queen defiler.”

  Murland’s doppelganger stepped forth. “I am not a charlatan wizard.”

  “I didn’t let my brother die,” said Gibrig’s double.

  Brannon’s double sneered. “I am not a lying, cheating backstabber.”

  Sir Eldrick glanced at Brannon, and the elf shared his worry that the doppelgangers might give away their secret.

  “And I would never give up my baby,” said Willow’s double.

  Sir Eldrick head-butted his doppelganger and kicked him in the chest. Suddenly, the desert exploded with sound and light. Both Murlands shot spells at each other. The two Gibrigs went rolling down the dune, clawing and punching each other, while Brannon engaged his mimic with sword and sharp words. Willow’s club met its counterpart, and the two ogres grabbed for each other’s throats.

  “Lying bastard!” Sir Eldrick screamed. He had overpowered his doppelganger and was now punching him repeatedly in the face. “The queen loves me!”

  The other companions had overpowered their counterparts as well, and were one and all about to deal the killing blow when the doppelgangers suddenly disappeared.

  Sir Eldrick grabbed handfuls of sand and angrily threw it aside. Seething, he rose and began searching the twilight desert.

  The others got up as well, but they did not find the imposters. Instead, a lone creature floated before them. They all stopped and stared, awestruck and stupefied.

  The creature before them had blue skin and the body of a man. Rather than legs, it had one long appendage, like a mermaid’s tail, but the tail was made of indigo blue mist. Upon its head, the creature wore a golden circlet, which matched the smooth bracelets.

  “A jinn,” said Sir Eldrick.

  “What’s a j-j-jinn?” Gibrig asked.

  “You have guessed correctly, good knight,” said the jinn. “My name is Harru.”

  “Be gone from here, evil genie spirit!” said Willow, brandishing her club.

  “Evil? Good ogre, but I am not evil.”

  “Why did you make us see and think those terrible things?” Gibrig asked.

  “I only made you see your inner selves. If it was terrible for you, surely it was not my fault,” said Harru as he floated before them.

  “What’s your game, Harru?” Sir Eldrick asked.

  “What’s your trick, is more to the point,” said Brannon.

  “I have no tricks, and I play no games. I saw restless minds, and I did what I could to help.”

  “Help?” said Gibrig incredulously. “You think that those visions, those memories, helped?”

  “Of course they did, good dwarf.”

  “It is said that the jinn lead weary travelers astray,” said Sir Eldrick. He glanced at the compass that Princess Chastity had given him. “And it seems that you have done well in that regard, for we are much farther north than we intended to be.”

  “It is true, I have led you so
mewhere that you did not intend to go, but it is somewhere that you need to be.” He pointed over a northern stretching dune. “Continue that way for an hour, and you will be captured and taken as slaves.”

  “Why on earth would we want to do that?” Murland asked, glancing at Sir Eldrick.

  “Because, it will lead you where you need to go,” said the jinn.

  Sir Eldrick gave a laugh. “And we are supposed to believe you? You deceived us from the start.”

  “Not true,” said Harru. “I have shown you all how you have deceived yourselves.” None of them had anything to say to that, and Harru offered them a kind smile. “If I wanted to bring harm upon you, I could have. Go north as I have said, and you will find your way out of the desert sooner. Or do not. The choice is yours.”

  He turned and began to float east, away from the setting sun.

  “Wait,” said Gibrig.

  But Harru only waved over his shoulder and disappeared into the gathering dark. “Remember, you can lie to others, but you cannot lie to yourselves,” came his fading voice over the sand.

  And just like that, he was gone.

  “Queen’s sake,” said Murland. “What just happened?”

  Sir Eldrick didn’t answer. He stood, staring east.

  “Then it was all an illusion?” said Gibrig.

  “It was more than that,” said Brannon, eyes thoughtful and head down.

  “What did he show you?” Gibrig asked.

  “What? None of your business,” said Brannon.

  “It’s getting cold,” said Murland. “What do we do, Sir Eldrick?”

  Everyone looked to the knight, and he looked west, then north. “It is said that the jinn are not to be trusted. But west of the Wide Wall, sometimes up is down, left is right, and right is wrong…” He stroked his sandy beard, weathered eyes still considering their options. Finally, he straightened. “I say that we go north as Harru instructed. It will be many more days of travel before we are out of the desert, days that I don’t think we have.”