The Mother of Zuul: Humorous Fantasy (Epic Fallacy Book 4)

by Michael James Ploof

  Brannon bowed his head and turned from the elf. He walked down the line, not looking at anyone. He stopped at the door and, glancing over his shoulder, he said, “Witch Hazel fucked with the wrong Woodheart. Let it be known that I shall have my revenge. For the war drums of Halala have remained silent for far too long. Your prince goes to war the day after next! Be prepared.”

  He left the soldiers to murmur in his wake and made his way through the city built among the trunks of the tall sequoia. He was glad to see that the council of domini had answered his summons. They waited for him in the Temple of Domini, and when he walked down the earthen hall to the council chamber, everyone went silent.

  “Please, continue,” said Brannon, ignoring the stares and making his way to the center podium. The chamber of spiraling roots could be formed any way that the elders saw fit, and today it took on the appearance of a lecture hall.

  “Hello, my prince,” said one of the elders, an elf that Brannon despised, much like he despised them all.

  “Yes, and good day to you, Versales. Tell me, where were you when the witch attacked?”

  “My liege?”

  “Yes, you imbecile, I am your liege. Surely you can remember where you were.”

  “I…”

  “Ah,” said Brannon. “Off getting your knob polished by a young elf lass, am I correct?”

  Versales said nothing. Silence reigned in the lectern.

  “Where in the hells were all of you when the city was attacked? Where were you when my family was almost murdered? How was there no warning? How did she get through our wards, charms, and curses?”

  “My liege,” said Syrkon Luew, Elder Dominus of Divinatio. “I warned this council a moon cycle ago that I had dreamed of a witch that would come from the west riding a jade ball of fire, but alas, they did not listen.”

  “You have a vision like that every other day!” another dominus protested.

  “Stick it in your sock, Gherso!” said Syrkon.

  “I have tried to convince this council to step up defenses for decades,” said another elder. “And I always get the same response.”

  “Your ideas are ancient!” said another. “I have told the council time and time again that my—”

  “Silence!” Brannon cried, and his voice boomed in the chamber. “I have not come here to listen to old elves squabble and point fingers. You have been after me since I grew my first seed by thought to join the ranks of the domini. Well, here I am. And under my watch, there will be no more petty bickering. There will be no more finger pointing. There will be but one mind set. There will be but one cause. Destroy the Twisted Tower and avenge our dead! I sail west the day after next, and I want the best of the best sailing with me. Choose only those who you wish not to lose, for those are the elves that I want by my side. I want water, earth, fire, and wind domini. I want those who can bring down the wrath of the heavens, wielders of lightning, and twisters of minds. I want them all. And if you think that you have some fight left in your old bones, then I want you as well. Your prince has called upon you. Let it be known!”

  “Let it be known,” said the elders, bowing.

  Brannon left the elders to quiver in their scholarly underpants and climbed the earthen ramp out into the sunlight. To his dismay, he found the companions waiting for him and looking concerned.

  “You are all still here?’ he said. “Then you plan on sailing with me?”

  “Brannon,” said Sir Eldrick, and Brannon knew by the tone what type of speech it would be.

  “Save it. I will not be deterred from my path.”

  “Brannon,” said Murland, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Did we hear you right? You’re sailing against the Twisted Tower?”

  “Yes,” he said, glancing at them all in disbelief. “What? Did you think that we could let these terrors continue to lay waste to our lands? Murland, you are destined to face Zuul. So, let’s face him.”

  “I’m not ready, Brannon. Sorry, but it is the truth. And the elves aren’t ready to face Hazel. Look what she did to you in your own land, and you plan to attack her on hers? She will see you coming from a mile away.”

  “Then she shall quiver from a mile away!” Brannon shot back.

  “Brannon,” said Sir Eldrick in that same tone. “We are with you, but we need to think this through.”

  “What would you do if it were the queen of Vhalovia, or Shivermoore, or Chastity, or the fae queen, or whoever the hells it is that you truly love? What if it had been Akitla? What about you, Willow? What if it were Dingleberry whom Hazel killed, or your little Fern? Murland, what would you do if it were Caressa? Or Hagus, Gibrig? What would you do?”

  They all glanced at each other, not knowing what to say.

  “Listen,” said Brannon. “You are either with me, or you are in my way.”

  “Only a Sith speaks in absolutes,” said Willow.

  “What’s a Sith?” said Gibrig.

  “A magical people from a story my papa used to tell me. They like, got power from anger and stuff. Good story, really tragic. But I don’t like the new stories, which were actually supposed to be the first stories. The main character acts like a little bitch most of the way through.”

  “What in the hells are you talking about?” said Sir Eldrick.

  “Sorry,” said Willow. “Go ahead.”

  Sir Eldrick shook his head and returned to Brannon. “Look, we’re with you. You know that. But we need to make sure that we’re doing the right thing. From what I saw of the palace, and from what I heard from witnesses, Witch Hazel wields the power of Zuul. And your armada cannot defeat a power so great. We might need…help.”

  Brannon scowled to understand, and at length he gasped. “Don’t even say the name Kazimir! If that son of a witch had done Zuul in when he had the chance, none of this would have happened.”

  “He may be the only one who be able to defeat the witch,” said Gibrig.

  “I’m tired of these wizard games,” said Brannon. “I want to act on my own for once, without depending on some leaf-head dippy wizard calling all the shots. I am attacking the Twisted Tower. Join me if you want, but do not get in my way.”

  Brannon marched past them toward the palace, leaving the companions to consider his words.

  Chapter 12

  Bad Tidings

  “Murland!”

  He awoke with a start when Caressa yelled and frantically sat up with his wand in hand. “Whatsit!” he yelled.

  “This just came by raven,” said Caressa, rushing to the bedside and handing him a small scroll.

  Murland groggily wiped the sleep from his eyes and focused on the letter. As he scanned it, he quickly sobered.

  Dear Murland,

  I hope that this letter reaches you, and reaches you well. For I have grave news. Castle Roddington was attacked last night by a witch who calls herself the Mother of Zuul. The castle was badly damaged, but the wizards of Abra Tower were able to fight her off. The royal family is safe, as they were away watching Lyricon’s play.

  But Murland, we have paid dearly. Twenty-seven are dead. I am sorry, but among the dead is your friend Gram, and Headmaster Hinckley as well.

  I beseech you to return immediately to Abra Tower. For you may be in grave danger. Every apprentice has been called back to his respective school or college, and the high council is considering what our next step should be. I have included in this scroll a spell that will teleport you back to Abra Tower immediately. Please use it.

  Yours in Magic,

  Headmaster Bumblemoore

  Murland stared at the scroll in his hand, unbelieving of the words written there. He read the note again and again, but with every reading his sorrow grew. He thought of poor Gram, who had been so excited to study potions, and who had never hurt anyone in his life. Then he thought of Hinckley, and true fear paralyzed him.

  “Murland…are you alright?” Caressa asked softly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

  Murland broke down and leaned into her as s
he embraced him. “Your palace was attacked. Your family is alright, but Gram…Gram is dead, Hinckley is dead,” he told her.

  “I’m so sorry, Murland.”

  She held him, stroking his head while he wept. He choked down his sorrow and, sniffling, wiped his nose determinedly.

  “It was Witch Hazel,” he said, his voice laced with malice.

  “If she killed Hinckley, then she is indeed more powerful than we thought,” said Caressa.

  Murland nodded gravely. “We have to stop Brannon before he gets everyone killed.”

  Murland and Caressa found Brannon in the dining room, eating breakfast with the other companions. The mood around the table was bleak, and Murland was about to make it worse.

  “There you are,” said Brannon, rising. “Have you decided if you are coming with me?”

  “Witch Hazel attacked Castle Roddington,” said Murland. “My friend Gram is dead. Hinckley is dead.”

  “Awe Murland, I be so sorry,” said Gibrig. He got out of his chair and rushed toward Murland, giving him a big hug.

  “Thanks, Gib.”

  “Caressa,” said Brannon, clutching his chest. “Is your family safe?”

  “They are, thank you for your concern.”

  “This bitch Hazel is really getting on my nerves,” said Willow as she tried to gnaw the marrow from the center of a bone.

  “This just goes to show why we should hit the Twisted Tower now,” said Brannon, slamming his fist down on the table.

  “No,” said Murland. “The elven navy cannot defeat Hazel, not while she possesses the power of Zuul. Hinckley was the second most powerful wizard in all the land after Kazimir, and if she could defeat him, she will tear your fleet to shreds easily.”

  “You put too much faith in wizards.”

  “Brannon, listen to reason. Hazel was trying for your parents, and she attacked Roddington Castle last night. She wants the leaders of Fallacetine dead.”

  “That means…” said Sir Eldrick.

  “Yes,” said Brannon gravely. “She will be hitting Vhalovia next.”

  “We have to do something,” said Sir Eldrick as he got up and began pacing.

  “We got to free Kazimir,” said Gibrig. “He’s the only one who—”

  “Not that again!” said Brannon.

  “He may be right.” Sir Eldrick stopped in his pacing. “Kazimir might be a son of a bitch, but he never went on a killing spree.”

  “You are all fools,” said Brannon with a scoff.

  “Dammit man, listen to reason!” said Murland.

  “I have two hundred ships at my disposal, along with five thousand soldiers and over two hundred domini. We will sail to the Twisted Tower, and we will destroy it. If you don’t have the stomach for war, then perhaps you should return with your princess to Magestra and wait out the storm with the other cowards.”

  “This isn’t like you, Brannon,” said Murland, as angry as he was filled with sorrow.

  “No, it isn’t. It is what Valkimir would do if the roles were reversed.”

  “Valkimir was a pragmatic warrior,” said Sir Eldrick. “He would never risk the lives of so many for revenge.”

  “This is about more than revenge, Eldrick. Someone tried to kill the king and queen of Halala. Such a crime cannot go unpunished.”

  “She will be punished,” said Murland. “But we’ve got to use our heads. I am said to be destined to defeat Zuul, and I—”

  “Then come with me, brother,” said Brannon, gliding from behind his chair and coming to stand before Murland. “Come with me, and show the world that you are not a fraud, that defeating Drak’Noir was not a fluke.” He glanced around at them all, holding each of their gazes for many moments. “Let the Champions of the Dragon march forth and vanquish the foe of Fallacetine. For if not us, then who?”

  “K-K-Kazimir said that he could do it,” said Gibrig.

  “Kazimir is a darkling,” said Brannon. “He just wants to be returned to life.”

  Murland looked to Caressa, and her eyes told him no.

  “What will it be?” said Brannon, extending his hand.

  “Murland needs more training before he takes on Zuul,” said Caressa.

  “Zuul is a baby…for now. But he will surely grow quickly, and the longer Murland waits to fight him, and stronger the Dark Lord will become.”

  “I’m with the group,” said Willow as she chewed on a half-loaf of bread.

  “I wish ye could think o’ a more peaceful way,” said Gibrig. “But if that be what ye be wantin’ to do, then I be with ye. The maker o’ clocks didn’t give me this shield for nothin’.”

  Sir Eldrick regarded them all thoughtfully and settled on Brannon. “This goes against my better judgement…but so does half the shit I do.”

  “What’s it going to be?” said Brannon, offering his hand once more to Murland.

  Murland could feel Caressa’s gaze boring into the side of his head. He thought of Gram, his best friend, and Hinckley, his first mentor. Now Murland was an orphan apprentice, and his loneliness was only matched by his anger and sense of revenge.

  “I’m with you,” he told Brannon and shook his hand.

  Caressa rushed out of the room, and Murland let her go. He was not going to spend the entirety of their relationship chasing after her. He had made his decision, and he was going to stick by it.

  “We’ll make that bitch pay for ever crossing the Champions of the Dragon,” said Brannon.

  “I sure hope so,” said Gibrig.

  Just then there was a flash of light and a long, drawn-out moan that sounded rather ghostly. A shadow swirled around the room before settling beside the breakfast buffet.

  “Oh great,” said Brannon. “Kazimir.”

  “And you ssshould be glad that it isss me,” said Kazimir as he came to form. But his voice was strange, haunted, and like that of a darkling. He removed his hood and spoke again, and this time his voice was normal. “What in the world are you fools cooking up now?”

  “Don’t worry yourself with it,” said Brannon. “Go and haunt someone else.”

  “Clever.” Kazimir picked at the assortment of food with a look like longing. “Oh, and I was so sorry to hear about your husband’s passing.” Kazimir’s eyebrows drooped like the ears of a lonely dog. He turned to Murland. “And Headmaster Hinckley. I hear that he was killed by Hazel. It is a shame, really, for I wanted to someday kill him myself.”

  “What do you want?” said Murland, grinding his teeth.

  Kazimir took an egg sandwich wedge from the buffet, popped it in his mouth, and chewed; the food flew through him and bounced off the table before falling on the floor. “I want what everyone wants: Hazel to be gotten under control. How many more have to die before you take me seriously?”

  “I wouldn’t take you seriously if you were the last person on earth,” said Brannon.

  Willow chuckled. “That was a good one.” She raised her hand to high-five Brannon, but he only glared at Kazimir.

  “This is just the beginning,” said Kazimir, and suddenly the sunlit room became drowned in shadow. “Hazel will not stop until she has had her revenge.”

  “Revenge on who?” said Murland.

  “Everyone who ever wronged her. And it appears that she is starting at the top.”

  “What did my father ever do to Witch Hazel?” said Brannon.

  “I guess you could say that he rubbed her the wrong way,” said Kazimir with a chuckle.

  “Enough of the riddles,” said Sir Eldrick.

  “Perhaps you should all read up on your history,” said Kazimir.

  “You mind turning the, uhh, sunlight back on?” said Willow. “I can’t see what I’m eating.”

  “Does it matter?” the wizard asked, rolling his eyes. He did, however, bring back the sunlight. “I beseech you, do not be the fools that I know you are. Think. The elven armada is doomed if it leaves these shores.”

  “You are a darkling,” said Murland. “And surely a minion of Zuul
, like the others. Why should we trust a word that you say?”

  “Fool, do you see any other darklings around? I don’t roll with those idiots, and I sure as hell do not answer to Zuul.”

  “Then help us. Use your darkling power and tell us where Witch Hazel is, what she is planning, where she will strike next.”

  “I can tell you that she is in the Twisted Tower, and she has eyes on every shore and every kingdom. She will not be caught unawares.”

  “Don’t dance around the question,” said Sir Eldrick. “Will you help us or not?”

  “It would go a long way toward us trustin’ ye again,” said Gibrig.

  “I know men,” said Akitla, regarding Kazimir with a stink-eye. “And I can assure you that you will never be able to trust this one.”

  “I will help you by telling you once again that you must free my body from Azkatraz. For only I can—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Brannon, waving him off. “Only you can stop her blah, blah, blah. We’ll just see about that.”

  Kazimir leveled them all with a dangerous glare. He shook his head and took a glass of orange juice from the buffet. “Soon you will beg for my help,” he said before tossing back the drink. It went right through his body and splashed on the floor before he suddenly disappeared.

  “I am sooo sick of that asshole,” said Brannon.

  “Yeah, screw the wiz-wiz,” said Dingleberry as she sat back against Willow’s neck, licking the sugary top of a tart crust.

  “Alright, crew,” said Sir Eldrick, leaning on the table and glancing at them all. “If we are to prove Kazimir wrong once again, then we need a solid plan.”

  “Oh, now you want to make a plan?” said Brannon, eyebrow cocked.

  “Plan is beat-beat the bitch-witch!” said Dingleberry, wings twitching from the sugar rush.

  “Yes, but how?” said Murland.

  “My father has been keeping something a secret for many years,” said Brannon with a devilish glance around. “But now I think it is time to be unleashed.”