Ravenwing hit the bundle with another spell, instantly silencing the Dark Lord, and with another casting, she pulled the bundle into her arms.
“It really was Zuul,” said Murland, horrified.
“Godsdammit, man, I told you!” Sir Eldrick screamed out of the corner of his frozen mouth.
“Don’t you know how to detect and unravel an illusion?” said Ravenwing, shaking her head at Murland in disappointment.
“You’ve got to let me kill him,” said Murland.
“You had your chance, wonder boy, and you blew it.”
“You’re going to keep him alive? But why?”
“Why do you think? For power. Not to mention the bounty on all of your heads. It was a toss-up between Captain Ripps and Lyricon, but in the end the captain threw in a percentage of the fust trade, and, well, how could a girl resist? Now, drop your weapons, or your drunken friend has had his last drink.”
The companions looked to Murland.
“Ravenwing, you don’t understand how dangerous Zuul is.”
“Apparently you don’t, or else you would have killed him when you had the chance.”
“Kill…him,” Sir Eldrick struggled to say against the effects of the paralysis spell.
“You try anything, I swear by the bloody gods that he will die here and now,” Ripps warned.
Murland nodded at the others and dropped his wand. Willow gave a sigh and tossed her club aside, and Gibrig let go of his golden shield, which hit the deck and broke through the wood as though it were paper and stuck halfway.
Ravenwing immediately extended her hand and pulled the wand of Kazam toward her and caught it deftly. She marveled over it for a moment before pocketing it with a disapproving headshake at Murland. “You know, you shouldn’t have given up so easily. Disappointing, really.”
“Ravenwing, please…”
Zuul was whimpering, and a tiny, veiny little hand grabbed ahold of Ravenwing’s dark hair and pulled.
“Mamma?” he said weakly, in a frail, sick little voice.
“What do you feed this thing?” she asked Murland.
“Boobies!” Zuul cried, fingers grasping desperately.
“Uh, gross,” said Ravenwing, and she cast a spell on him that left him snoring softly.
Captain Ripps tossed Ravenwing a sack of coins. “That is the agreed upon price.”
Ravenwing stowed it away as well and tucked Zuul under her arm. “Well, it looks like we are done here.”
“Just like that, eh?” said Murland.
“That’s business, kid. But, I tell you what. I’ll do you one favor, just because I like you. Turn around.”
“Why?”
“Do what she says,” said Ripps.
Murland turned around, and was surprised when a spell hit him in the rear end. He jumped, reached back, and realized that his tail was gone. Embarrassed and enraged, he turned to glare at the sorceress.
“See ya!” she said, saluting him, and with that she whooshed out of existence, and with her went the Dark Lord reborn.
Chapter 17
The Fall of the Twisted Tower
Brannon awoke to find himself lying in a bed. Beside him, an elven healer had his back to him, but looked to be concocting one potion or another.
“Where are we?” Brannon said weakly.
The healer turned around, and his ears perked to see his patient awake. “Ah, you are awake. This is good.”
“Answer the question.”
“We are sailing east I believe. The witch has been defeated. We won.”
“What!” Brannon leapt out of bed against the protests of the healer and marched up to the deck. He swooned at the top of the stairs and grabbed ahold of the rail. It was nighttime, and judging by the stars, they were indeed headed east.
“Sire, you are awake…” one of the generals began.
“Kirkon, why in the hells are we headed in the opposite direction of the Twisted Tower?”
“Sire, we took heavy casualties. Twenty ships were sunk, and twenty more badly damaged. The death toll is not yet known, but I fear it will be in the hundreds.”
“Turn the fleet around,” said Brannon, marching to the bow. “Turn this ship around!” he ordered the wheelman.
“But, Sire,” said the general.
“I came here to kill the witch and destroy the tower. Now what can you tell me of Hazel? Is she dead?”
“We do not know…”
Brannon kicked a nearby barrel and swore, hopping on one foot.
“After your valiant charge, she disappeared into the ocean,” General Kirkon went on.
“Put out the command. I want every able-bodied seaman and every ship that can still float heading west in five godsdamned seconds. Tell the others to continue to Halala. The Twisted Tower is mine, and I shall see it burn this night.”
“You heard it here first-first,” said Rye-Rye as Tuck slowly hovered backward with the crystal to pan out. “After an incredible show-show of floral magic-magic, Brannon the Brave-Brave has set a new course-course for the hated tower. Tell-tell, Prince of Halala. Do you think-think that the witch-witch survived?”
Brannon looked to the crystal pointed at him and self-consciously touched his single braid. “What? Uh, I do not know,” he said, getting closer and peering into the crystal. “But if she is still out there, I hope that she is watching, for Brannon the Brave is coming, and he will not be stopped!”
Rye-Rye whistled as the camera turned to her. “Stay tuned-tuned for more explosive boom-boom action on the North-North Sea.”
Tuck gave the A-Okay sign and Rye-Rye gave a tired sigh.
“Were we just live?” Brannon asked. “What did I tell you about filming live?”
“Sorry, orders from the top-top.”
“What?”
“The big-big cheese, who you think-think? Ratings are through the roof-roof. We’ve even got some peeps tuning in from west of the Wide-Wide Wall. You’re a star-star.”
“Are you telling me that everyone saw me fighting the witch?”
Rye-Rye nodded happily.
“Oh,” said Brannon, not minding that one bit. “Well, give me some warning the next time. I must look like I just came out of the ass of a sea monster.”
“No-No, you look fierce-fierce, like hardened warrior hero-hero!”
Brannon thought of Val then, wishing that his beloved could have seen him battling the witch. Thinking back on it, Brannon was shocked at what he had done. Never had he forced anything to grow so large, and he had never before thought to create a vine monster.
“Let my father suck on that one,” he said to himself.
“What-What?” said Rye-Rye.
“Uh, nothing, never mind,” said Brannon. “You just remember what I said. No live feed unless I give the say-so.”
“Aye-Aye, Cap-Cap!” said Rye-Rye, ending her solute with a middle finger.
Brannon didn’t notice it, however. He stood at the helm watching as the fleet turned west. A smaller percentage of beaten and battered ships continued toward Halala. Many had died, but they would be remembered as heroes.
But what does it matter? Brannon wondered. Dead is dead, like my poor Valkimir.
He set his sights on the western horizon, burying his rage and sorrow until it was needed. He was eager to create another vine monster, and he needed all the energy that he could muster.
***
“Darklings,” Witch Hazel croaked.
She floated on her back in the dark ocean, holding her side. Blood pooled around her. The anti-magic of the wizard bane coursed through her veins, sapping every ounce of strength that she had. Brannon’s dagger had sunk deep, and she knew that it had pierced her liver, which only poisoned her blood faster.
“Darklings,” she said again, trying hard to hold a mental picture of them in her mind. She reached out to them with the last ounce of magic that she had left in her.
She knew that it was futile, calling their names like that, for the creatures could no
t tolerate being in or above water for too long. There was one who could, of course, but Hazel had no delusions that Kazimir would help her now.
“I have always said to people that I will show up when they least expect, and most need me.”
Hazel strained to look to where the voice had come, unbelieving of what she heard. Surely it was a hallucination.
“Kaz?” she whispered as he came into view, floating above the ocean.
“Yes, it is me, and no, you are not hallucinating,” he said, looking her over with disappointment.
“Kaz, my darling, you came for me.”
“Darling my ass,” he said with a scoff. “You have been trying to kill my body for weeks!”
“I’m sorry, Kaz. It was the power of Zuul. I wasn’t in my right mind.”
“Mmm-hmm. And now, lying half dead in the ocean, you are in your right mind?”
“Help me, and I will free your body from Azkatraz. And I will return your spirit.”
“Don’t beg, Hazel. It doesn’t become you, and frankly, it’s a real turn-off. What in the hells have you done to yourself? You look like a horned prostitute.”
Hazel’s eyes fluttered, and she fought to stay conscious. “Kaz…” She reached out a hand and passed out.
***
Kazimir stared at Hazel, wondering what he should do. She had been trying to kill his body after all, and with her gone, he would have the power of Zuul all to himself. All he needed to do was get the foolish champions to free his body, and he would be back in business.
Hazel was a liability. She was a weakness.
But she was also the love of his life…
Kazimir bent his hooded, darkling head and shook it.
“You’re a fool, Kazimir. Let her go and be done with it, you two are toxic to each other.”
He tried to convince himself to leave her, but he couldn’t turn away. He had been joking about her looks. For aside from the horns and the scanty leather outfit, she looked just like she had back in his days at wizarding school.
Where had they gone wrong? he wondered. And for the first time in years, he thought about the child they lost.
If Kazimir were in his human body, he thought that surely he might shed a tear, and the thought made him angry. He was a fool to indulge his emotions, still…
With a sigh, Kazimir took up Hazel in his wispy, darkling arms.
“You’ll be the death of me yet,” he said to his sleeping beauty before flying through the veil separating the world of the living from that of the dead.
He took a shortcut through the nether to the Twisted Tower and was shocked to find the fortress under attack from the elven armada. Kazimir had come through with Hazel into the main room high at the top of the tower, and where there had once been a lone window, a gaping hole ten feet wide stood in its place. Cannonballs struck the tower, shaking it down to the core. Blue blasts sent sparks of wizard bane flying in all directions, and when an ember hit Kazimir’s shadowy robes, it burned straight through.
“That little royal pain in the ass,” said Kazimir, and he flew with Hazel out of the gaping hole and into the air, high above the destruction.
More than fifty ships surrounded Dark Island, and from them flew blue glowing harpoons, arrows, and cannons. The projectiles bombarded the tower with wizard bane, utterly destroying the dozens of wards that had been set about the place. Kazimir had never seen so much of the hated bane, and at that moment, he knew true fear.
Far below, Kazimir caught sight of a huge green beast hurtling enormous blocks of fallen stone back at the tower, and upon closer inspection, he saw Brannon housed in the vine monster’s center.
“These champions are starting to really get on my nerves,” he told the sleeping Hazel.
He thought about flying down and ripping Brannon’s soul out of his chest as he had threatened before, but Hazel was fading quickly, and Kazimir had no time. With one last glare at the prince, he turned and flew through the veil once more.
***
Brannon lifted another two-ton slab with his powerful vine hands and hurled it at the tower. A satisfying crash issued, and a large section of the base gave out. The nearby ships hit the tower with another bombardment of cannons that buckled it at the center and caused a chain reaction. The upper portion of the tower collapsed onto the lower portion, which sent the entire structure pancaking in on itself until it disappeared in a cloud of dust.
The hot smoke and debris washed over Brannon, and nothing had ever smelled sweeter. He blinked sleepily and staggered before collapsing backward. The vine monster that housed him broke the fall, and he lay there, staring up at the rising smoke. He remained there for a time, crying and thinking about Valkimir. Now that he had had his revenge, an emptiness filled him, one that had previously been filled with rage. He wanted another enemy to lash out against, anything that would take away the sorrow that suffocated him.
At length, he commanded some of the vines to ferry him across the water to his ship, and there the general waited for him.
“Sire, there is no sign of the champions, Zuul, or Hazel on Dark Island,” said his general.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, the domini all agree.”
Where did they go? Brannon wondered. If they made it inside the tower, surely they killed Zuul, for that had been the plan.
“Inform Somnium Dominus Weaver that I want him to start looking for the other champions in the dream world. I’ve got a bad feeling that something terrible happened to them.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Brannon turned from the smoldering rubble and noticed Rye-Rye and the camera pixie. They were waiting with bated breath for the go-ahead.
“I don’t want to do an interview right now,” he told them. He was dead tired from the floral magic, and wanted nothing more than to drink a fifth of dwarven rum and go to sleep.
“Can we go-go live then?” asked Rye-Rye, practically begging. “The viewers are dying to know what happened.”
“Go ahead.”
Brannon left the two pixarazzi to their craft and disappeared belowdeck.
Chapter 18
Regarding Insults Properly Performed
Murland was awakened by a splash of cold water. He came to thrashing against chains and gasping for breath.
“Caressa!” he cried.
“Sorry, lad, there ain’t no princess here,” came the voice of Captain Ripps.
“Ye alright, Murland?” said Gibrig, who hung beside him in the small cell.
Sir Eldrick, Akitla, and Willow hung beside him, and they too looked to have been awakened with a bucket of water.
“I’m alright, Gib,” said Murland, taking a count of the captain’s goons. Surprisingly, there seemed to be only two of them. One was a tall, wart-covered troll who had to bend at the waist just to fit in the cramped hallway outside the cell. The other was the rogue wizard Murland had once faced in the cave by the sea, before the group had been forced to venture into the city of mole men.
The captain walked down the line, stopping before Akitla. “Well, hello. I don’t remember you.”
“Ripps,” said Sir Eldrick in a controlled, even tone. “I swear by every god that has ever existed, and even those that didn’t; if you harm one hair on her head—”
“Yes, yes, you will string me up by my bowels,” said the captain, feigning fear and throwing up jazz hands. He grinned at Sir Eldrick, reached out, and plucked a long dark strand from Akitla’s head. He ogled Sir Eldrick and put the hair in his mouth before slurping it down like pasta.
He suddenly gagged and punched himself in the chest.
“That’s what you get, you freak!” said Akitla.
Captain Ripps coughed and hacked, and Willow laughed. “Choke on that, you old pervert!”
“Silence!” said the captain as he finally swallowed down the hair and turned to them, red-faced. “You all think you’re so godsdamned special, don’t you?”
Akitla and Willow laughed, and the captain
pointed a shaking finger at the ogre.
“Laugh it up, fatty. Because it is the last laugh that you will ever have.”
“If I have the last laugh, don’t that mean that I’ll win?” said Willow, looking confused.
“What?”
“You know, like the saying. ‘She who has the last laugh’ and so forth.”
“No, moron, I mean you’ll be dead!”
“Oh,” said Willow.
“Do you idiots know how much money you cost me?” said Ripps, pacing the line and glowering at them all. “For twenty years the dippies happily caught me pixies, and my fust was known throughout the land as the best. It was even certified organic!”
“You are a slave trader and a drug dealer,” said Sir Eldrick. “Sorry if we don’t weep over your losses.”
“Shut your mouth, Slur Sirsalot, or you will share Willow’s fate. The rest of you, I will sell to Lyricon. That will at least help to gain back some of the losses that you have caused. But Willow…” He turned to her and grinned the most devilish of grins. “She will serve me until the end of her days.”
“Ye bastard!” Gibrig suddenly screamed, surprising not only the captain, but the companions and even himself.
“Ah! Some spirit,” said Captain Ripps. “It is good to see. But I fear Lyricon will cure you of that. I had thought to kill you all, you know; have you walk the plank in shark-infested waters. But then I thought better of the idea. And as fun as that would have been, I think that I will enjoy receiving the bounty on your heads much more.”
He turned and nodded to his dark wizard.
The wizard pulled a wand from the dark folds of his long robe and, grinning, pointed it at Murland.
“But alas,” said Ripps. “Atlas is in Vhalovia, and will not be coming up north for the tour for another two weeks. I dare say that we have some time to kill.”
He nodded again to the wizard, and from the wand came a dark beam of writhing black energy that hit Murland in the chest. His nerves screamed and his body went rigid as pain consumed him.
The Mother of Zuul: Humorous Fantasy (Epic Fallacy Book 4) Page 14
