The woman jabbed her fingers at Mrs. Russet, and Billy saw some kind of electricity arc out at his teacher. Mrs. Russet batted it away almost contemptuously, and Billy wanted to laugh. Very few people could stand up to Mrs. Russet.
Clearly, their attacker was aware of that fact, for her eyes suddenly shifted, going from angry to terrified. “Please,” she squeaked. “Please don’t kill me!”
“Oh, piffle,” sniffed Mrs. Russet. “As though you wouldn’t have been only too happy to do that very thing to us.”
“I swear,” hollered the woman, and then disappeared into a crack that opened up at her feet. She had an instant to scream, and then the ground swallowed her up, and sealed itself again above her.
Billy felt sick. He had seen people die before – more than he ever thought possible – but this was the first time he had seen Mrs. Russet exercise her power in such a cold and devastating fashion. He had seen her destroy a room full of hundreds of zombies, but zombies were different. They were already dead, though brought back to a horrible pseudo-life by the dark processes of the Black Powers. This woman, however, had been no zombie. She had been a living person. A Power.
“Come on,” snapped Mrs. Russet, and again pulled Billy with her.
“Where are we going?” Billy asked. But he didn’t know if Mrs. Russet heard him. There was too much noise all around them. And Billy became aware that more and more people he didn’t know were in the halls. Powers, all of them. And to judge by the destruction they were waging, they could only be Darksiders.
Billy was stunned. Hadn’t the Darksiders been sent packing? How could they possibly have regrouped this fast? Where were they all coming from? What were they doing here?
“They’re looking for you,” huffed Mrs. Russet, as though Billy’s questions had been said aloud. Another Darksider spotted them, and raised a rubber ducky high in the air.
Billy did a double-take. A rubber ducky?
Yep, it was indeed a rubber ducky in the Darksider’s hand. But Billy took no consolation from the sight of the plastic toy. He knew that Imbued Objects – objects infused with power by their makers – could take any shape or form. Mrs. Black, Cameron Black’s mother, had a beetle broach that enabled her to travel instantly from one place to another. His friend Vester had a marble that did the same thing. The shape of the Imbued Object wasn’t important. What was important was what it did.
Billy didn’t have a chance to find out what nefarious deed could be accomplished with the rubber ducky. Before the Darksider had a chance to use the toy, Mrs. Russet pointed at him. A pair of rocks seemed to appear from nowhere and hurtled right at the Darksider’s head, knocking him instantly senseless.
“This is getting us nowhere,” she muttered. “We have to get you out of here.”
“What about your key?” Billy stammered. Mrs. Russet had a key with a beehive engraved on it that could take them away in the blink of an eye.
“Can’t use it,” said Mrs. Russet.
“Why?” asked Billy, ducking as a pair of students named Harold Crane and Sarah Brookham went flying across the hall. Harold and Sarah were both bullies, he knew, and had been cronies of Cameron Black, but he still didn’t like to see them being tossed about like paper dolls in a hurricane.
“No time!” answered Mrs. Russet. She darted through a door, dragging Billy with her.
Billy found himself in the girls bathroom. It was a strange feeling for him, being in the place. He had a moment or two to notice how much cleaner it was than the boys bathroom, which seemed to be competing for some kind of grossout award. He also saw that there was much less graffiti etched into the tile that coated every vertical surface… and was that some kind of a candy machine on the wall?
Before he could focus on that question, Mrs. Russet jerked him over to the sinks. Again, they were much cleaner than the sinks in the boys restroom.
Mrs. Russet turned on the water in one of the sinks, and dropped what looked like a dirty rag into the water. “Come on, Billy,” she snapped.
“What? Where?” he stammered.
“It’s a spell,” she said, motioning at the water. (And as she did, Billy heard even more screams and explosions outside the bathroom – whatever was happening out there was getting worse by the second). “It’s just short-distance, but it’s fast. It’ll take us anyplace I think of within a few miles.”
Billy wondered for a moment why his teacher wasn’t just traveling through the Earthessence if she needed to escape. Billy had done that in the past, and loved it.
As soon as he asked the question, though, he knew the answer. She was trying to conserve her energy. Powers who expended too much energy doing spells would eventually find themselves either asleep or unconscious. And though Mrs. Russet was enormously strong – one of the strongest Powers alive, in fact – Billy knew that even she would get worn down eventually. Part of spell-casting was shepherding one’s strength.
Mrs. Russet grabbed his hand in her own, and reached out to touch the surface of the water in the sink.
Before she could complete the motion, though, the bathroom door slammed open behind them. This time it wasn’t just one Darksider, but three who came clamoring into the room.
“That’s him!” shrieked one of them. “That’s the boy!”
The other two were already moving. One of them pointed at Billy, and Billy saw tiny darts fly out of the man’s fingers. Mrs. Russet muttered something behind him, and a stalactite erupted from the ceiling of the bathroom. Billy heard several small pinging sounds as the darts bounced harmlessly off the stone column, then fell to the linoleum floor.
But Mrs. Russet couldn’t be everywhere at once. At the same time as the one Darksider was casting his darts at Billy, the third had pulled something from his waist.
It was a dagger, Billy saw instantly. A blade that looked dark and deadly. The dagger’s owner flicked it through the air, and the knife spun end over end toward Billy. He saw it coming at him, but was powerless to get out of its way. He again heard Mrs. Russet speaking below her breath, but knew that this time, she was going to be too slow to stop the attack. There were just too many things happening at once.
Time seemed to slow down. Billy could see every ray of light glint off the razor edge of the blade as it spun toward him. He could feel every fiber of his clothing at what seemed like a microscopic level. He could feel himself being jerked at the water in the sink, but knew he wasn’t going to touch it in time.
He was right. The dagger arced toward him, its keen edge slicing the air with an audible whisper. The terrible blade hit him in the chest. It pierced his thin t-shirt, then his skin and flesh. He felt it shatter his breastbone, and then come to rest once it found its target: his beating heart.
Billy felt that muscle in his chest stutter as the blade cleaved through it. His heart shook, then skipped. A strangely detached part of his mind felt his finger grow wet, and knew that Mrs. Russet had managed – too late – to touch his finger to the water in the sink. The world seemed to melt around him, becoming a billion droplets that rushed over, around, and through him.
Billy became just one more droplet in that river of existence. One more bead of water, one infinitesimally tiny bit of moisture in an ocean of reality. He was traveling by Water, he figured.
But he didn’t have long to savor the new mode of travel. Because though he was suddenly one with the Wateressence, he was still Billy. He could still somehow feel the point of the knife lodged in his chest.
He could feel his heart. Fading. Fading.
And then, with a hint of sadness, Billy felt his heart give out, and stop.
CHAPTER THE SECOND
In Which Billy is Protected, and taken Below…
Rushing in his ears. Like blood pounding, like a wave crashing, like a waterfall smashing into the rocks below. The sound was almost more than he could bear. Almost. But in the last moment, in the final instant when he felt he would have to succumb to the sound and lose himself in Water… the noise disapp
eared, and he was himself again.
He was standing in a room he knew quite well. Better than just about any room in the world, in fact.
It was Billy’s living room. He knew it in an instant, having memorized almost every object in the tiny place, almost every fray in the nasty orange carpet that lay on the floor, in the years he had lived here with his family.
He was surprised in the next instant. Because his parents were home.
That was unusual. His mother, a checker at a nearby grocery store, was always working, it seemed. Always trying to help the family stay ahead of the many bills that appeared to clamor for their attention. Billy and his parents lived near Los Angeles, one of the most expensive places in the world to live, and money was always tight.
Even more of a shock than seeing his mother at home in the middle of the day was seeing his father. Mr. Jones worked every bit as much as Mrs. Jones. More, in fact. Billy couldn’t remember seeing his father more than a handful of days in the past six months or so. Neither of his parents had been very educated when younger, but had determined to change that. Billy’s father had gone back to school and become a paramedic for the Los Angeles Fire Department. Unfortunately, doing that had meant incurring even more debt, causing more bills to come in. It was like a never-ending cycle. Things had started to look up recently, if only a little, but Billy knew his father still worked more than anyone else he had ever met or even heard of.
So it was something of a shock to see his mother and father, both sitting on the couch, apparently relaxing for the day.
Or rather, it would have been a shock, if Billy had not been more concerned about certain other things. Like the knife in his chest.
He could still feel it. Could still feel its cruel edge inside him. It was like an icicle within him, burning him with its chill.
“Billy!” cried Mrs. Jones, leaping up from the couch. Billy’s father was only an instant behind her, standing as well to move toward their son. Billy didn’t know if his parents were more concerned about the fact that he had suddenly appeared in their living room, or about the fact that their son was standing in front of them with a knife sticking out of his chest. But he didn’t have a chance to find out, because in the next instant, both his parents suddenly went rigid. They became still as statues, their eyes fixed unblinkingly on him. His father was reaching out as though to grab Billy, but he did not complete the move. Frozen.
“Mom? Dad?” he whispered.
“They can’t hear you,” said Mrs. Russet, and Billy realized with a start that his teacher was still holding onto his hand. He had almost forgotten about her.
“What did you do to them?” Billy demanded.
“Later,” she said. She was looking at him oddly.
“What is it?” Billy asked.
“Why aren’t you dead?” Mrs. Russet asked.
Billy looked again at his chest. The knife was still there. The chill it brought him had, in fact, grown a touch worse. “I…,” he began. He licked his lips, which suddenly felt dry. “I don’t know.”
He touched the hilt of the knife. He could see where it pierced his shirt, could even see through the hole in his clothes to where the dagger had entered his body. But there was no blood around the knife. It was as though the blade had sunk into a block of cheese.
But it wasn’t cheese. It was him. Billy felt suddenly sick, and had to fight the urge to gag.
He was saved from his sudden nausea by a loud “pop.” Billy knew the sound well: someone had just appeared in the room.
He swung to his left, and saw….
“Vester! Tempus!”
And so it was. Two of his best friends in the world of the Powers were standing in the room. Vester was a Red Power – a Power who controlled the Element of Fire. He was also one of the first Power that Billy had ever met, and was Billy's best friend. One of Vester’s arms hung limply at his side, forever crippled in the Battle for Powers Island.
Beside Vester stood Tempus. The old man – a Gray Power who controlled the Element of Air – was dressed in his customary Hawaiian shirt. But where most Hawaiian shirts contented themselves with being almost noisily colorful, Tempus's shirt also featured palm fronds and flowers that danced a magical jig across his chest. Nor were his pants any more somber: they were a bright purple and seemed like they had probably been chosen specifically for their ability to clash with the rest of his wardrobe. Tempus was, Billy strongly suspected, either color-blind or slightly insane. But either way, he was another great friend, and had saved Billy's life during the Battle for Powers Island.
The two men grinned at Billy, but the smiles only lasted an instant before being replaced by looks of concern.
“Great jumping koala bears!” shouted Tempus. “There’s a… I mean… you’ve got a….” The old man pointed at Billy. Or rather, pointed at the knife that was in Billy.
“What happened?” said Vester. As usual, the Fire Power was direct and to the point, not wasting words.
“We were attacked,” said Mrs. Russet. “Darksiders came to the school, looking for Billy. One of them managed to stab him with a DeathBlade.”
“A DeathBlade?” Tempus repeated hoarsely. “Then how is he… I mean…. Great jumping koala bears!”
Billy didn’t know what was going on. Everything was happening too fast, and he felt for a moment as though the earth was about to spin right out of orbit and fly straight into the sun. Sadly, this was a feeling that had gripped him all too often during his time with the Powers. He was getting rather used to it, so was able to calm himself down by taking a quick breath.
Then he glanced down. He saw the dagger – the DeathBlade – sticking out of him, and felt like everything was spinning again.
“Whoa,” said Vester, and stepped forward. He laid his good arm across Billy’s shoulders, steadying him.
Billy smiled as much as he was able to at his friend. Then he stammered, “What’s a DeathBlade?”
“A weapon favored by some of the more unpleasant Black Powers,” said Tempus. “The ones who like to listen to Muzak and who think Christmas should be cancelled.” The old man’s eyes suddenly had a faraway look in them. “I remember the first time the Black Powers proposed ending Christmas,” he said. “Had to have been thirty years ago. I’d just bought a flying dune buggy. Named it Radar. After my first pet. A wyvern. Also named Radar. Course, that was before everyone had a wyvern, before they got all hoity-toity and people started –”
“Tempus!” Mrs. Russet snapped. Tempus quieted instantly. Billy almost laughed. Yes, his parents were currently frozen in front of him. Yes, his school had just been attacked by a horde of Darksiders. And yes, he did have a DeathBlade in his chest. But at least Tempus was still as strange as ever, which was strangely comforting right now.
“A DeathBlade,” said Mrs. Russet, “is indeed a Black weapon. It is a weapon forged in darkest night, under a full moon. It is sharper than almost any other blade, save perhaps Excalibur.” Billy perked up a bit at that. He had found the lost blade of King Arthur – the greatest Power who ever lived – and had even used it in the Battle for Powers Island. But he had not held it long, giving it to the strange mermaid known only as Blue in return for a service she had done him.
“Pay attention,” snapped Mrs. Russet, clearly sensing that Billy was not listening as well as he should. “Beyond being razor sharp, and able to penetrate almost any kind of armor, a DeathBlade is Imbued with its maker’s abilities. So it kills by stabbing, like a normal blade, but also destroys its victims by touching them with Death itself.” Mrs. Russet looked at Billy with an odd expression. “You should be dead, Billy.”
The words sent a shiver through Billy’s body. He had faced death and danger before, but something in Mrs. Russet’s eyes told him that he was in deep trouble – more trouble than usual.
“What do we do?” said Billy in a low voice.
“We stay quiet,” answered Mrs. Russet. “I’m thinking.”
Everyone in the room grew still. E
xcept for Billy’s parents, who already were still and so simply continued doing what they had been doing. Which was nothing.
Then Mrs. Russet snapped her fingers. The dry sound made Billy jump. “Ah-ha!” she shouted. “Of course, how could I have been so stupid?”
“It’s not too hard, Lumilla,” began Tempus. “Everyone has an off day from time –” The Gray Power’s voice stopped when Mrs. Russet swung her baleful gaze at him. “I’ll just be quiet for a bit,” he finally managed.
“Do that,” said Mrs. Russet. Then she looked back at Billy. “Do you still have the scabbard?” she asked him.
Billy knew instantly what scabbard she was talking about. After finding Excalibur and pulling it from the solid diamond where it had come from, Billy had used the sword to defeat the Darksiders. He had blacked out after that, and when he awoke had found the sword hanging in a scabbard at his side. The sword itself was fashioned out of a single piece of diamond, and was stunning in its beauty. But the scabbard was also a work of art. And when he gave the sword to Blue the mermaid, he had kept the scabbard. It was in his room, in fact, hidden behind his second-hand dresser. Billy nodded at his teacher. “It’s in my room,” he said.
“Get it, quickly,” she said.
Billy did so, though he thought for a moment that it was strange to be the one who had a knife in his chest but was still doing errands for other people. But now that he thought of it he wasn’t feeling much if any pain, so things weren’t quite as dire as he had thought only a moment before.
He returned a moment later, holding the empty scabbard. It was beautiful, crusted with jewels and inlaid with gold.
Billy: Seeker of Powers (The Billy Saga) Page 2