“Be careful, Eva,” said Mrs. Russet. “He did manage to hit your boy, remember. And with no training or tutelage. Perhaps Billy is himself a Black, and perhaps he’s even one whose good side you will want to be on some day.”
Mrs. Black snorted derisively. “I hardly think so—” she began, but then stopped as the floor shifted below them all.
Billy let out a little shout—he was coming to expect the unexpected, but still couldn’t contain the fear he felt as the leaves that had until now supported him suddenly parted, allowing him to drop downward through their suddenly flexible forms.
He screamed in earnest now, free falling through a mass of leaves, trying to grab them, to hold onto something—anything—that would stop him from falling. But his hands came up empty, cruelly cut by the edges of the leaves through which he was descending.
Then, quite suddenly, he landed in a pile of leaves as thick and soft as a king’s mattress. It was almost a pleasant feeling, and would have been fun if he hadn’t been so terrified.
Five matching thumps told him that Mrs. Russet, Vester the fireman, Tempus of the wind, Wade the water Power, and Mrs. Eva Black had also fallen with him into—what?
Billy stood up and looked around. It appeared as though he was in a great basket, woven of living vines, tight and secure. In the middle of the room stood a single table, long and thin, that reminded Billy uncomfortably of a table in an operating room. At one end of the table stood a lit candle, and at the other end sat a small bowl of water.
Behind the table stood a woman, a short, chubby woman whose age Billy couldn’t quite make out. She seemed somehow both old and young at the same time. Her body was covered in leaves and vines and greenery that grew out of the very floor of the living basket in which they all stood. And when she moved toward Billy, she didn’t have to walk: the living floor she stood on lifted her up and carried her close to him on shifting blades of grass that sprung up before her and then disappeared into the greenery as she passed.
“Good day, Billy,” she said. “I am Ivy.”
“Hi,” said Billy. It was a single syllable, but under the circumstances he was rather proud of managing to say anything coherent at all. In fact, the simple feat of uttering the word made him feel rather heroic. Then he caught sight of Mrs. Black looking at him and his heroism disappeared, leaving him feeling more like a lobster being held over a pot of boiling water.
“As you’ve no doubt guessed,” said Ivy, pulling Billy’s gaze back to her, “you are here for a specific reason, Billy.”
“Quite so,” added Tempus with a windy laugh.
“Do be quiet, Tempus,” said Wade. “We’ll never get through this if you blather.”
“Why am I here?” asked Billy.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Black. “I’d like to know that, too. It seems fairly clear to me that this boy…”—and the way she said “boy” made it clear to Billy that she really wanted to say something else, like “worm” or “dog-doo that I stepped in and am about to scrape off my shoe with a shovel”—“…is a no-Power nothing—a mere human who is nothing more than a waste of our time.”
Mrs. Black faced Mrs. Russet challengingly, and Tempus, Vester, Wade, and Ivy all joined her in staring at Billy’s teacher.
Billy felt that had he been stared at like that by these four frighteningly strange people—or Powers, he supposed he should call them—he would have just poofed instantly into a Billy-shaped smoke outline and disappeared. Mrs. Russet was made of sterner stuff, though. Not only did she not poof into a Mrs. Russet-shaped smoky outline, she managed to look fairly irritated, as though she hadn’t counted on having to answer any questions.
“Well,” she finally said, “the greatest indicator that I saw was that he managed to punch your son, Eva.”
“I told you,” responded Mrs. Black coolly. “That was clearly luck.”
“And I tell you, Eva, that no ‘no-Power nothing’ that I’m aware of has ever managed to harm a Black Power in all our history.” Then, she added with a biting sarcasm, “I’m surprised to find that you know so little of your own history, Eva. But then, the Blacks have never been famous for their thinking.” Billy still wasn’t sure exactly what they were all talking about, but he felt a bit of pride, both that he had apparently managed something special in smacking Cameron, and at the fact that Mrs. Russet was clearly sticking up for him.
“Still and all, Lumilla,” said Wade, his wet, dripping voice oozing over Billy like a cold tide, “there are other tests which are less radical than the test of Five.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” snapped Mrs. Russet. For the first time, Billy thought she appeared a bit anxious. This did nothing to calm his already strained nerves. “I already gave him those tests.”
“And?” asked Ivy.
“He didn’t fail them,” said Mrs. Russet. “Not totally, at any rate.”
“Let’s back up a moment,” said Vester. He tousled Billy’s hair and winked at him. Generally, Billy didn’t go in for head-tousling, any more than he went in for diapers or a baby rattle. But at that moment Billy felt as though he could have hugged the young fireman, if for no other reason than because he actually seemed to recognize that Billy was more than a little frightened by the tempest of discussion that all seemed to be about him. “Lumilla, why did you give him any tests in the first place?”
“The first day I met him—the first day of school—I gave out a test—the written kind, not a Test of Power—to all my students. And before he started working on his test, Billy did….” Mrs. Russet’s face screwed up as though she herself were trying to figure out what it was Billy had done.
“Yes?” prompted Ivy.
“Well, I’m not exactly sure what he did. But he closed his eyes, and suddenly I could feel something in the earth.”
“You mean he was calling the Earthessence? He was going to do a first spell of some kind?” asked Ivy.
Mrs. Russet shook her head. “It didn’t feel like he was controlling the Element. It was more as though the Earthessence were waiting for something. Expectant.”
Eva Black laughed, a quick yip of a laugh that sounded to Billy as though a small dog had caught its leg in a trap and was now considering chewing the leg off to get out. “And for that,” she said, “you summon five Powers to a Gleaning? Because of an indistinct hunch? Have you lost your mind, Lumilla? You could have simply been having indigestion for all we know!”
“Now, now,” said Ivy, the greenery that cloaked the young/old woman writhing anxiously. “I’m sure there was more to it than that.” She turned to Mrs. Russet. “What about the other tests?”
“Inconclusive at best,” said Mrs. Russet.
“Really,” said Eva. Her tone of voice left no doubt that she had a very low opinion of anyone else’s opinions. Especially one that originated with Mrs. Russet. She looked squarely at Billy and said, “Robot fish wear Picasso’s underwear.”
“What?” asked Billy. No one answered. He realized that everyone in the room—Mrs. Russet, Eva Black, Tempus, Vester, Wade, and Ivy—were all staring expectantly at him. He felt like he should do some kind of trick or musical act or something. Unfortunately, the only trick Billy knew was the best way to get comfortable in a locker, and he had never learned how to play anything other than the kazoo. So he just smiled a nervous half-smile and waited for someone else to do something.
Finally, Wade said, “Interesting.” He paused, then the water Power told Billy, “Did you know my koala rents paperclips for potato chips?”
Billy had a sudden, crazy urge to reply, “No, but if you sing the first part of it maybe I can follow along,” but managed to ignore that impulse. Everyone was still looking at him, and he suspected that no one would think that was a very funny response to Wade’s incomprehensible question.
At last, Ivy cleared her throat. “Well,” she said. “I think we can agree that his Glimmer reaction to nonsense is minimal. What about pronunciation?” She looked at Billy. “Say ‘magic.’”
>
“Magic,” repeated Billy dutifully.
Eva tsk tsked loudly. “He certainly fails that test. Didn’t say it with the silent ‘q’ at all.” She turned an angry eye on Mrs. Russet. “I can’t believe you’ve wasted my time like this. Perhaps you could try taking an antacid next time you feel inclined to bring in a nonPower for testing.”
“I’m telling you, Eva, I felt something that first day. Something unusual. Something I’ve never felt before.” Mrs. Russet stared at all the other Powers, challenge flashing from her eyes. “He needs to be tested. He needs a Gleaning.”
Vester put a placating hand out. “I’m sure no one challenges your sensitivity in these matters, Lumilla,” he said, casting a glance at Eva that seemed to say quite clearly “except her.” But out loud he merely continued, “But do you really think it’s worth the risk to do a Gleaning?”
Mrs. Russet crossed her arms. Billy recognized that movement. A student in her history class had once told her he needed another day to turn in a project that was due. Mrs. Russet had crossed her arms just that way, and Billy knew at that moment that the student’s request was doomed. The crossed arms meant that Mrs. Russet had made up her mind and wouldn’t be budged.
“I do think it’s worth the risk to do a Gleaning,” she answered. “I think it’s worth that risk, and more. I’ll be his Sponsor, if that makes a difference.”
The other Powers in the room all looked visibly surprised by his announcement. Ivy nodded. “Well, if you’re going to be his Sponsor, then the decision is yours.” She looked at Billy, gesturing to the table in the center of the room. “Billy, please lay down here.”
Billy looked askance at Mrs. Russet, who nodded, then he moved timidly to the tabletop.
Vester moved to stand by the candle at one end of the table. “Head up here,” he said, pointing at the candle before him, “and feet down there,” continued the fireman, nodding at the bowl of water at the other end of the table. Billy did as Vester told him, watching as the six Powers in the room took up positions all around him. Vester remained at his head, the watery Wade moved to Billy’s feet. Eva Black and Ivy stood on either side of him, and Mrs. Russet and Tempus stood just behind Ivy.
Looking up at the group, he realized for the first time that all of them wore badges like his and Mrs. Russet’s. Vester’s, Tempus’s, and Ivy’s badges all said their names, followed by the word “Dawnwalker,” just like Mrs. Russet’s did. The badges that Wade and Eva Black both wore, however, said something different: “Darksider.”
“What’s a Dawnwalk—?” began Billy.
“Hush,” said Mrs. Russet. She waited a moment as Eva, Tempus, Vester, Wade, and Ivy all closed their eyes at the same time and suddenly became motionless as statues. They even looked harder somehow, like they were no longer people, but perfect reproductions of themselves made of rock or steel.
Mrs. Russet looked at Billy. “Yes?”
Billy couldn’t remember what his question had been, so he settled for what he figured would be a good second-place question: “What is going on?” He was surprised how calm he sounded, considering the fact that he was waiting to have who-knows-what done to him by people who had walked out of water, fire, a tornado, a tree, or just plain appeared out of nowhere, and that he was currently laying on what felt like an operating table in the middle of a room made out of a giant basket in the Earthtree, whatever that was.
Mrs. Russet sighed. “We can’t always tell who is going to be a Power. Usually there are signs when someone is an infant: they call one of the six Elements to them and channel it somehow. A toddler will make waves appear in its wading pool, for instance, or perhaps a six-inch rain cloud will suddenly appear and hang over his or her crib for a week or so, raining the whole time.” She glanced at the five other Powers, who were still standing motionless. “But occasionally someone will make it to an older age—around fourteen—before showing any signs of being a Power.”
“But I’m fourteen,” said Billy.
“Yes, I know,” said Mrs. Russet dryly, and Billy blushed. Of course she knew that. Hadn’t she wished him happy birthday at lunch? “At any rate, when the Power is discovered later, usually an older child will channel an Element, just the same as a baby who becomes a Power. But sometimes a young man or woman will just do what we call Glimmer. It means he is periodically coated in an aura of indeterminate power, one that no specific Element must obey. It’s only visible to other Powers, and not even to all of them, so sometimes it’s missed.” She paused a moment, then said, “I thought I saw something like that surrounding you—just for an instant, the barest blink of an eye—your first day at school.”
“And someone who Glimmers will become a—a Power—as well?” asked Billy.
“Sometimes,” replied his teacher. “We don’t understand Glimmering completely. Sometimes it’s a one-time thing, and the child goes on to have a normal life, never aware of its brush with the Powers. Other times, the Glimmer returns. And then…”—Mrs. Russet exhaled as though suddenly quite tired—“Well, then the child is going to be involved with the Powers, either as a Power himself, or….”
“Or?” prodded Billy.
“Or in some other way. Let’s just leave it at that for now.” She cleared her throat, then continued. “Usually, someone who has Glimmered will be able to tell the difference between the words ‘magic’ and ‘magic’—”
“The difference between magic and magic?” began Billy. “But—”
“Don’t interrupt, Mr. Jones. And for heaven’s sake, let’s not have another back-and-forth where I say magic and then you repeat it back to me incorrectly.”
Billy shrugged as though to say, “Okay.” This seemed to satisfy Mrs. Russet, so she continued. “Another way to trigger a clearer Glimmer is to send the potential Power into total confusion. The easiest way to do it is to say something so completely nonsensical that the potential Power can’t tell his feet from his forehead.”
Billy’s eyes lit up. “So when you said that stuff about golden bears and fleas being on fire, and when Mrs. Black said that thing about fish underwear….”
“Correct,” said Mrs. Russet, looking at him with approval. “They were confusing you to see if they could trigger a Glimmer.”
“But they didn’t, did they?”
“No,” answered Mrs. Russet. “And usually, that would be the end of it. But as I said, with you, that first day of school, in addition to almost seeing a Glimmer, I also felt something. Something highly unusual, something I’ve never felt before.” She paused, her brow furrowing, clearly trying to figure out the best way to explain the rest to Billy. “As I’ve already explained, the Powers channel the Elements. Each Power has control, to a greater or lesser degree, over a single Element. Thus Wade,” she glanced at the cold-faced “Darksider” who stood near the bowl of water at Billy’s feet, “is a Power of Water. And Vester,” she said, pointing to the fireman near the candle, “is a Power who controls the Element of Fire. Ivy, if you couldn’t guess, channels and bends the Life Element—the Element that controls the earth’s plants and living things. Tempus is a Power of the Wind and Storm. And as for me, I am a Power of Earth.”
Another connection was made in Billy’s mind. “The dragon! That’s what saved us! You made that stalagmite that saved us from the dragon!”
This garnered a second approving nod from Mrs. Russet. Billy thought he might lift bodily off the table with pride. “Very good, Mr. Jones. I have a deep and—if I do say so myself—very powerful connection with Earth. And on that first day, when you had your eyes closed in sheer panic during the test, the Earth said something to me.”
“What did it say?” whispered Billy.
“I don’t know,” she answered.
Billy realized then that she hadn’t mentioned one of the Powers in the room. “What about her?” he asked, motioning to Eva Black. “What is her, uh, Element?”
Mrs. Russet frowned. “She is a Power of the Black. The Element of Death. As is her son, Camer
on. Black Powers are the fighters of our world. The weakest of them is capable of fighting off dozens of normal people at a time, and the most powerful in our history have laid waste to entire cities. That’s why I finally decided to bring you in here. Even accidentally, you shouldn’t have been able to even touch Cameron Black. Not unless he wanted you to—which I doubt—or unless you were a Power yourself, most likely another Power of the Black.”
“So I am a Power?” asked Billy, both excited at the idea of being someone magic and disturbed that the magic he likely had was such a gruesome one. Although, he realized, having power over Death would probably enable him to stop the bully attacks at school.
“I’ve already told you I don’t know if you’re a Power or not,” said Mrs. Russet. “But we have to find out. And that’s why we’re here. Because there is a single way that is one hundred percent certain of determining whether a person is a Power or not.”
“What way is that?” asked Billy, suddenly and inexplicably chilled.
“It’s rather simple, actually,” said Eva Black, her eyes snapping open. She smiled, the first genuine-seeming smile that Billy had seen come across her face. “I get to kill you.”
Billy looked at Mrs. Russet. Eva Black had said that already, but he had figured—or at least hoped in his heart of hearts—that she was just trying to scare him, or was making some kind of very unfunny joke. Mrs. Russet just looked back at him. Billy suddenly knew: it wasn’t a joke. Eva Black really was going to kill him.
He jerked into a sitting position before being pushed roughly back into place by something. He looked down and saw that vines as thick as his arm had emerged with lightning speed from the floor below him and wrapped themselves around his body, forcing him onto his back again.
“Ow!” Billy yelped, thrashing against the grip of the greenery. It did no use, however: all he accomplished was to scrape his body on the hard surface of the plants.
Mrs. Russet was shouting something at him the whole time, and it was only gradually that Billy became aware of what it was.
“…in no danger, Billy! Nothing is going to happen!”
Billy: Messenger of Powers Page 6