The Legend of Drak'Noir: Humorous Fantasy (Epic Fallacy Book 3)

by Michael James Ploof

  “Oh, Kaz,” she said, almost crying. “It’s…it’s…” She looked around the room dreamily, then at her own hands, which buzzed and crackled with energy.

  “It’s got a kick, doesn’t it? Well, that’s just the beginning. Cure Zuul, and I will share with you all of his secrets.”

  Hazel grinned, her eyes alight with wonder. “You’ve got a deal.”

  “Excellent,” said Kazimir, rubbing his hands together. “Now if you don’t mind, you need to get to work on him as quickly as possible. I have something to attend to, something that is long overdue.”

  ***

  “Land ho!” a lookout called from the crow’s nest.

  The crew rushed around the ship, preparing it for landfall, and the companions came rushing up from belowdeck. They ran across the gangway toward the bow like children to a carnival.

  “Well, that be a sight for sore eyes,” said Hagus, who had never gotten over his seasickness. “If I ever say that I want to sail again, someone knock me over the head.”

  “It’s a deal,” said Wendel, looking quite serious about the promise.

  They had sailed west and cut south once McArgh determined they were north of the bay that Atlas had anchored in. It was one of the best places to make landfall, but the floating city was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where do you think Atlas went?” Murland asked.

  McArgh shrugged. “The Golden Gulf perhaps.”

  “This is it,” said Sir Eldrick. “Once we make landfall, there is no turning back. Are you all sure that you want to do this?”

  They all nodded or spoke their agreement, even Wendel.

  The companions said their farewells to the crew, some of whom they had grown quite friendly with, and boarded the rowboat that would take them to the beach. McArgh went with them for this last leg of the journey. She jumped out when they came into the shallows and pulled the boat up to the beach. Hagus leapt out and kissed the ground, which gained him a laugh from the happy companions.

  “So, this is Fallacetine,” said Akitla, looking around and smiling wide.

  “Well, this is a part of it,” said Sir Eldrick. “The Northern Long Sand, to be exact. But we are west of the Wide Wall, which is not a good representation of the east, where most people live.”

  “The Petrified Plains are about twenty miles in that direction,” said McArgh. “I dare say that you are less than a week away from Bad Mountain, assuming you hoof it sixteen hours a day.”

  “Thank you for everything that you have done, Captain,” said Caressa, offering her outstretched hand.

  McArgh glanced at it and laughed with a hearty, “Yargh! Get over here!”

  She took up Caressa in a big bear hug, and even kissed her deep on the lips. Gibrig hugged the captain as well, and soon Wendel joined in.

  “Alright, alright. Quit humping my leg you blasted skeleton,” she said, shaking him off her left leg.

  “Thank you, McArgh,” said Sir Eldrick. “We owe you a great debt.”

  She shook his hand, saying, “You bet you do. But Caressa and I have worked all that out. Sorry I couldn’t bring you farther north, but the waters that way are treacherous, and there is nary a safe place to put in.”

  “This is fine,” said Sir Eldrick.

  The rest of the companions thanked the captain in their own way, and as the rowboat set off, Ravenwing came gliding from the Iron Fist and landed beside Murland.

  Caressa had a fresh scowl ready for her, but the sorceress ignored her, looking to Murland and handing him a glowing orb. “If you find yourself in trouble, which you surely will, you need only to speak my name three times into the orb, and I will come to your aid.”

  “You gonna whoosh there?” said Willow.

  “Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that.”

  Willow lit up. “Then maybe you could just whoosh us to Bad Mountain, and we can save ourselves the trouble.”

  “It doesn’t work that way,” said Ravenwing dismissively.

  “Thank you, Ravenwing,” said Murland, accepting the orb. “But…but why are you doing this for me?”

  Ravenwing shrugged and blew her bangs out of her face. “I guess I’m just a sucker for an underdog.”

  Caressa scoffed, and again, Ravenwing completely ignored her. Her head shot forward, quick as a bird, and she laid a peck of a kiss on Murland’s cheek, causing Caressa to take in a shocked, indignant breath. The sorceress spouted her black wings and leapt into the air before the princess could say anything, and Murland stood staring after her.

  “Hey!” said Caressa, nudging him.

  “Huh?” said Murland, a bit too dreamily for Caressa’s liking.

  “I love a good love triangle,” Wendel said, nudging Willow with his elbow.

  “Shut up, Wendel!” said Caressa.

  “Hah!” he laughed, teasing her with lewd gestures. “A Roddington never gives anyone the shaft, you say, but Murland would like to give someone the shaft, says I!”

  “Why must you always be starting trouble?” Sir Eldrick asked, trying to mask his amusement.

  “Yeah, Wendel, shut yer yapper,” said Gibrig, surprising them all. “Murland loves Caressa like no one else. He told me himself, so quit bein’ mean for no good reason.”

  Murland blushed, and a cooing “aww” escaped Caressa.

  “Alright, let’s get a move on,” said Sir Eldrick. “If we huff it, like McArgh says, we can make the Petrified Plains by—”

  A flash of light silenced him, followed by a puff of white smoke and a loud pop. When the smoke settled, Kazimir stood on the beach, glaring at them all.

  “Well aren’t you all just a happy bunch of dipshits?” he said, eyeing Murland and the way his hand crept toward his wand.

  “Kazimir!” said Brannon, looking ashen.

  “I oughta wring yer neck!” said Hagus, storming toward the wizard.

  Kazimir raised a hand, and the furious dwarf was lifted into the air by the beard.

  “Let him down!” Gibrig demanded.

  “Beat-beat the wiz-wiz’s ass!” Dingleberry screamed, charging with her needle leading the way.

  “Retreat!” cried Wendel as he ran away.

  Kazimir blew Dingleberry back into Willow’s face with a gale from his wand. He turned it on the others. “You have tested my patience for the last time!” his voice boomed, nearly knocking them back on their rumps.

  “There is no need for violence,” said Sir Eldrick, standing between Kazimir and the others. Akitla eyed the wizard dangerously from behind him, her hands covered in frost.

  “What did I tell you that I would do to you if you continued to try and warn the champions?” Kazimir asked Hagus, Caressa, Dingleberry, and Valkimir.

  “You said you would turn us all into p-p-pigs,” said Wendel, who was cowering behind a rock behind the others.

  “The truth is out, Kazimir. But we are still marching to Bad Mountain,” said Sir Eldrick.

  “You morons just don’t get it, do you? This is not a game. YOU do not decide the rules. I do. I am to bring five fools to Bad Mountain, not ten!”

  “Eleven!” said Wendel.

  Kazimir shook his head. “You cannot defeat Drak’Noir. No one can.”

  “We’ll take our chances,” said Sir Eldrick.

  “I used to look up to you,” said Murland angrily, and he took three steps toward the high wizard. “But you’re nothing but Drak’Noir’s little bitch!”

  Sir Eldrick stopped him with a firm hand to his chest. “It’s not worth it, Murland, cool down.”

  “You want a piece of me, kid? Take your best shot,” said Kazimir, arms wide.

  “No,” said Sir Eldrick, holding Murland back.

  “You know, I think that you all could use a lesson in respect,” said Kazimir, and in a heartbeat, he produced his wand and shot six consecutive spells, hitting Hagus, Dingleberry, Valkimir, Caressa, Wendel, and even Akitla. To the champions’ horror, their friends disappeared with a collective whoosh.

  “No!” cried M
urland, and he shot a glowing spell at Kazimir.

  Kazimir absorbed Murland’s spell before raising a clawed hand that choked Murland and took him off his feet. “I’ve had just about enough out of you, boy!”

  Sir Eldrick charged across the sand in a blur of shining armor. The glow of his sword strike was a half-moon as he cut Kazimir’s wand in half. It exploded in the wizard’s hand, and a shocked Kazimir raised his hand in time to stop the sword inches from his face. A staff was in the other hand suddenly, and from it came an explosion that took Sir Eldrick off his feet and sent him tumbling through the air, smoldering.

  Willow charged in with her large club cocked back, only to be hit by a ball of lightning. Two more hit Gibrig and Brannon, leaving them screaming in pain and writhing around on the sand.

  After many excruciating moments, Kazimir finally released them all. He twirled his staff three times before it disappeared into the many folds of his robes. He stood over them, shaking his head. “I swear, a wizard gets no respect. But you will learn.”

  “What have you done to my daughter?” a furious Sir Eldrick screamed. His skin was blackened, and smoke still wafted from his armor, yet he struggled to his feet with murder in his eyes.

  “Your little popsicle awaits you at the entrance to Bad Mountain,” said Kazimir, and he eyed the others in turn. “All of your loved ones are with her. Get your sorry asses to Bad Mountain before the next full moon, and I shall set them free. If you do not, then I shall feed them to the dragon in your stead.”

  Willow scratched her head and put her hands on her hips, looking quite frustrated. “Now look, if you whooshed them to Bad Mountain, why—”

  “Don’t say it!” said Kazimir, holding up a staying hand. “Don’t ask me that again, or I swear, by the gods, I, WILL, DESTROY, YOU.”

  “Don’t say it,” Gibrig urged Willow.

  The ogre shrugged. “I don’t see the problem in asking.”

  “You will regret this, Kazimir,” said Sir Eldrick, pointing a shaking finger at him. “I promise you that.”

  The wizard laughed. “I thought you only made promises you can’t keep to women.” With that, he turned with a flourish of robes and disappeared with a whoosh.

  Everyone got to their feet slowly, groaning in pain. Murland held his sore throat and retrieved his wand, which had ended up ten feet away.

  “What are we going to do?” Gibrig asked, shaking out his hands and walking in aimless circles.

  “We’re going to get that son of a bitch!” Everyone turned to regard a very disheveled and very angry-looking Brannon. “I mean it,” said the elf prince. “Lying to us and trying to lead us blindly into the maw of Drak’Noir is one thing. Kidnapping our loved ones and threatening to feed them to the dragon instead, well, that is another thing altogether.”

  “I’m with you on that one,” said Willow. “Kazimir’s got it coming to him.”

  “Agreed,” said Sir Eldrick in a deep, gravelly voice. “I’ll have his head before this is over.”

  “All this gusto be great, it really be, but ye all just had a shot at Kazimir, and in case ye didn’t notice, ye lost,” said Gibrig. He had a look in his eye that none of them had ever seen. “Gosh darn it all, you guys, we can’t be defeatin’ an ancient wizard and a dragon with brawn, or magic.”

  “What do you propose?” said Sir Eldrick. “Should we love them to death?”

  “Well…I don’t know. But we got to be thinkin’ o’ somethin’ better than fightin’ their fight, else we’re goin’ to be whelp food, or whatever the heck else Kazimir got planned.”

  “He’s right,” said Murland. “We have to think of something.”

  “Any suggestions?” Sir Eldrick asked, arms wide and a doubtful look on his face.

  “Not yet.”

  “Anyone else?”

  No one answered.

  “Well then let’s get our boots on the trail. You can think of something along the way, and if not, then I guess we do things the old-fashioned way.”

  Chapter 18

  A Gathering of Magi

  “That’s it, steady now…” said Hinckley as he fought to keep the intricate spell going.

  Fifty other wizards stood in a large circle around the disk that housed the college, pouring their energy into Hinckley’s wand. It was more power than he had ever wielded, and he felt the urge to keep it for himself. Ignoring the selfish instinct, he directed it through his wand and into the energy crystal, slowly helping it to meld back together at a subatomic level.

  A low hum emanated from the crystal, and Hinckley ended the spell before leaning on his staff for support.

  “Well done,” said High Wizard Fracco, coming to stand beside his friend.

  “Yes, but it took much longer than I thought it would.” Something caught Hinckley’s eye, something coming from the east. “And it seems that we are just in time. The others have arrived.”

  Fracco turned east and saw the many wizards and witches who had answered the call. “What about the fae?” he said. “Has the queen given her answer?”

  “No, there has been no word from Faeland. But I am confident that she will help, for Drak’Noir is just as much of a threat to her as the rest of us.”

  “And the giants?”

  Hinckley shook his head. “Nothing yet. But we cannot wait. We set out within the hour. Please greet the newcomers and tell them that I will address them all in the main lectern, for now I have other matters to deal with.”

  “Yes, Headmaster,” said Fracco with a small bow.

  Hinckley made his way down below the battlements of the Wide Wall to the makeshift laboratory that was being used for a very important spell. He found High Wizard Butters bent over a sheet of crystalline shatter that looked very much like rock candy.

  “How is the transformation coming?” said Hinckley, and the tall wizard jumped.

  “Oh, it is you,” said Butters, adjusting his too-large spectacles and its many lenses. “This is the last batch.” He pointed at the bulging sacks on the other side of the room. “That is the rest.”

  “Just those five sacks from two thousand pounds of wizard leaf?”

  “It might not look like much, but this is the highest-quality wizard shatter that I have ever created. It will do the trick. It is twenty times more powerful by volume.”

  “Let us hope that it is enough,” said Hinckley. “Bring the sacks up to the college. We leave within the hour.”

  “Yes, Headmaster.”

  Hinckley made his way to the main lectern, where the summoned wizards and witches had gathered. He was happy to see that over a hundred had answered his call. They sat on the many ascending rows around the lectern, murmuring to themselves and waiting for Hinckley to fill them in. There were half as many witches as wizards, and he recognized many faces. He had summoned the high wizards of Abra Tower in Magestra, and Presto Tower in Vhalovia, along with half a dozen other wizarding schools in Fallacetine. He’d also gotten the witches of Westwick and Hocus. The coven mother of Westwick, one Rosemary Hunegelda, stood when she saw Hinckley enter the lectern. The rest of the congregation rose as well, and Hinckley ambled up the short flight of stairs and stood before the wooden dais.

  “Welcome, one and all,” he said, gesturing for them to sit. “There is little time, so I will get right to the point. As many of you may have heard in the rumors that ride upon the wind, Zuul has been reborn, and magic emanates from the Twisted Tower once more.”

  Many in the crowd were shocked, others nodded knowingly. The echo of murmured voices filled the dome.

  “Listen to me now, for you do not know the half of it. Kazimir the Most High now controls Zuul. He resides in the Twisted Tower, and he has grown to great power. Indeed, he is the highest of the most high. But alas! The chosen one has emerged. The wand of Allan Kazam has been mended!”

  Shocked exclamations filled the room, and some of the wizards and witches began to cheer.

  “What is the most excellent wizard’s name?” asked one of
the witches.

  “You have all surely heard his name, for he was chosen as Magestra’s Dragon Champion.”

  “Murland Kadabra?” said many a witch and wizard at once.

  “Yes,” said Hinckley with a chuckle. “Murland Kadabra.”

  “But why are we here?” a wizard among the crowd asked, and many others harmonized agreement.

  “Some of you are aware of the truth of Drak’Noir, and some of you are not. For those of you who remain in the dark, I will put it bluntly. Kazimir’s champions are sacrificed for a spell that will send Drak’Noir away.”

  Again, the shocked crowd became restless. Some were outraged, for they had known a few of the wizards given to the dragon over the decades.

  Hinckley pounded the gavel and silenced them all.

  “There is no time for debate. You see, Murland has refused to abandon his quest, even knowing that he and his friends are likely doomed. And if anything happens to him, I am afraid that Zuul will rise once again and finish what he started two thousand years ago. So, we must offer what help we can to Murland and the champions. It is high time that the magi of Fallacetine band together and do what we should have done long ago—defeat Drak’Noir once and for all. But to defeat Drak’Noir, we must defeat Kazimir. I have called you all here to ask if you will join the cause, and together we will face Kazimir the Traitor, and Drak’Noir, the beast of legend. Then and only then can Murland face Zuul.”

  The crowd sat silently. Wizard and witch hats turned this way and that as their owners glanced around to see who would join Hinckley.

  At length, High Wizard Bumblemoore of Abra tower stood and banged his staff against the stone. “You have my staff.”

  “And my broom,” said Coven Mother Hunegelda.

  “And my wand,” said the headmaster of Presto Tower.

  One by one the witches and wizards in attendance stood and pledged their support, and Hinckley smiled upon them all, quite pleased with the show of solidarity. “Thank you,” he said, bowing to them all. “It makes my old heart proud to see so many magi coming together for one cause. I daresay that not since the building of the Wide Wall has such a gathering of force occurred, and I am honored to be a part of it. Together we will end the threat of Drak’Noir!”