Billy: Messenger of Powers

by Michaelbrent Collings

  His voice drifted off as a moan sounded nearby. Both Billy and Tempus looked over and saw that it was Fulgora. She moaned again, twitched, then fell silent once more. Vester, still holding her head in his lap, felt her pulse, then put his hand on her forehead. “I think she’s coming out of it,” he said. But to Billy’s ears, the statement sounded like it was more hopeful than realistic.

  “As I was saying,” Tempus finally said. “Zombies are wonderful at certain things. Harvesting diamonds, for instance, or digging ditches. Some of them have even served as legislators, though not as often as you’d think.” He smiled, probably remembering some rambling anecdote about a zombie mayor or something. Billy was glad not to hear the whole story, however. He was more interested in the details of what made a zombie, because he suspected that he would be seeing more of them.

  “So zombies are slaves,” he said.

  “Correct,” replied Vester. “Very good, my boy. We’ll make a Power out of you yet,” he said, clapping Billy on the shoulder. “Yes, they’re slaves. But they’re also the bodies of the dead, so you have two very disturbing things: one, that someone wants a slave. After all, if you want a slave to mine your diamonds, then you’re probably going to end up wanting a slave to tend your garden, and that a zombie cannot do. So…”

  “So you’re going to try to make slaves out of non-zombies—er, people,” said Billy.

  “Yes,” agreed Tempus. “And the second disturbing thing about zombies is that the bodies of dead Powers are used to make them. Throughout recorded history, one of the things that has been seen as an abomination to all people everywhere has been the desecration of the remains of those who have gone before.”

  “It’s a disgusting practice,” said a weak voice.

  Billy jumped, then said, “Ivy! You’re awake!”

  Ivy grimaced at Billy’s shout. She looked like she had a serious headache. “Zombies are an affront to Life,” she said, her hands pressing at her temples. Then, slowly, with Tempus’s and Billy’s aid, she sat up. She looked at Fulgora. “How is she?” she asked. Before waiting for an answer, one of Ivy’s clothing-vines snaked toward Fulgora, touching the Red Lady’s cheek. “She’ll live,” said Ivy confidently.

  Vester looked extremely relieved at this news. “Can you tell us any more?” he said to Ivy. “About what happened at the tower?”

  Ivy shook her head. “Not much. The zombies touched the Councilors, and I saw a few of the creatures put objects—they must have been Transport keys—on Lumilla and Tempus and my Father.”

  “How do you know they were Transport keys?” asked Tempus.

  “Because the Councilors all disappeared,” snapped Ivy. “And I’d prefer to think they were Transported, instead of just disintegrated or some such.”

  “Prisoners of war,” said Vester quietly. Everyone looked at him.

  “Vester,” Ivy began warningly. But Tempus silenced her with an upraised hand, the old man’s usually jolly face unusually somber.

  “Ivy,” he said. “I know you don’t want it to be so. The Life Powers are—happily—eternally optimistic about others’ motives. But there aren’t enough Black Powers in the world to have created so many zombies, unless they’ve been planning this for some time. And the Darksiders did all disappear. And you yourself saw Wolfen on the tower.”

  “But the Diamond Dais, like you said, it was green. Wolfen wasn’t lying when he swore fealty, when he promised he hadn’t broken the terms of his Exile,” said Ivy.

  “I know how it looked, my dear. But if anyone could fool the Diamond Dais, it would have to be Wolfen, that craftiest of Powers.” Tempus looked at Vester. “I believe you were right, my fiery friend. We’re at war.” He sighed, and smoothed his shirt again. “And Lumilla and the others are likely prisoners.”

  Billy, in a sudden flash of insight, remembered the scars, those terrible glowing scars on Tempus’s stomach. From the last War of the Powers. He suddenly realized that on those occasions that Tempus had rubbed at his stomach, the old man wasn’t habitually smoothing his shirt, he was feeling his scars. Billy trembled at the thought of his good friend undergoing the horrible tortures that would leave such vivid reminders after so many years.

  “Then what do we do?” asked Ivy in a small voice.

  “We burn everything.”

  Billy turned. He half-expected Vester to have said something like this a while ago, but the voice he heard wasn’t Vester’s.

  “Fulgora!” said the fireman, tenderly helping the woozy Red Lady to her feet. “We were so worried,” he managed to say, his voice almost choked with emotion.

  Fulgora looked around her. “Chikurachki?” she asked Vester.

  “What’s Chikurachki?” blurted Billy. “Some kind of spell?”

  Fulgora looked vaguely amused and more than a little irritated, as though the young Power was not used to people speaking unless she had specifically invited them to do so. “It’s the name of this volcano,” answered Vester. “It’s in Russia.”

  Billy was almost disappointed by that answer. He had though “Chikurachki” must be a spell name or a code word or something. But no, just a volcano.

  “Good job,” said Fulgora. “Uhhh…,” she continued, looking at Vester. Billy saw the fireman’s shoulders slump, and realized with horror that the Red Councilor didn’t even know his friend’s name!

  “It’s Vester,” said Billy, almost shouting the words. Then he added just as fervently, “And he saved your life!”

  “Really?” asked the Red Lady in a tone that scorched Billy’s ears. But she looked at Vester with something like interest in her eyes. “And how did you save me?” she asked amusedly.

  “Um, well,” said Vester. Billy was somewhat disheartened to see that Vester talked to Fulgora almost exactly the same way that Billy talked to Blythe. Both he and the firemen sounded like cavemen that had been run over by woolly mammoths one too many times. Billy had thought he would surely grow out of that kind of reaction to girls. So the fact that the very brave and clearly strong and smart fireman couldn’t put a sentence together in front of his true love was fairly depressing.

  “What do you remember?” asked Tempus, the Gray Power jumping to his friend’s aid.

  Fulgora’s eyes narrowed. “I remember that horse’s behind Napalm Challenging me. And I remember that he ringed me with fire. And then….” She struggled to remember more, then at last shrugged her lovely shoulders. “Nothing.”

  “My dear,” said Tempus. “You became a dragon.”

  Fulgora laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that seemed even to Billy like the promise of a beautiful tomorrow. And if it affected him like that, couldn’t imagine how such a laugh would affect Vester. He sneaked a glance at his friend. Sure enough, Vester looked like he was about to go into a happiness-induced coma.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said the Red Lady. “No one has ever become a dragon and then come back.”

  “You did,” blurted Vester. Fulgora looked at him sharply. Vester looked down, apparently suddenly discovering something incredibly fascinating about his shoes. “My Lady,” he added.

  “Indeed,” said Tempus. “You won the Challenge, but were unconscious. So when the zombies attacked—”

  “Zombies?” said Fulgora in a near shout. “Zombies attacked?”

  “Yes, dear,” said Tempus patiently. “I thought you heard us talking about that, and that’s why you said ‘We burn everything’ when you awoke.”

  “Oh, that,” said Fulgora dismissively. “I say that all the time when I wake up. I just like the sound of it.” She focused an intense look on Tempus. “So what’s this about zombies?”

  “There was an attack,” said Tempus haltingly, even the old Gray Power apparently not completely immune to Fulgora’s charms. “Zombies—we think led by Darksiders—came into the stadium and attacked.”

  “How do you know it was the Darksiders behind it?” demanded the Red Lady.

  “Well,” answered Ivy, slowly rising to her feet, “aside
from the fact that only Death Powers can make a zombie, and most of them are Darksiders, the fact is that zombies also attacked the Council at the same time, and carried away all the Dawnwalkers.”

  “Impossible,” scoffed Fulgora.

  “Not impossible,” insisted Tempus. “It happened, as sure as the wind on my face. And Vester,” he added, pointing at the fireman, who was still examining his feet like the secrets of the universe were written on his sneakers, “risked his own life to save you from the undead creatures.”

  Fulgora looked at Vester with a new look on her face. Not appreciation, exactly, but Billy thought she looked interested in hearing more of Vester’s part in her rescue. But she didn’t ask any further questions. Instead, she murmured, “I must find out more.”

  And with that, she suddenly strode to the edge of the ledge and jumped off.

  Billy heard himself holler and lunge forward in a vain attempt to stop Fulgora’s suicidal leap. He missed, though, and saw her plunge downward, hitting the lava below and disappearing instantly. He lost his balance then, and might have followed her right off the edge, had Vester not snatched him back.

  “She’s all right,” said the fireman. “She’s a Red Power. The lava won’t hurt her. She’s probably Cresting.” Then, off Billy’s confused look, he explained, “It’s a spell that some Reds can do. Riding the fires that heat the earth. She’ll pop out in some other volcano, or a hot spring somewhere.”

  “But,” stuttered Billy, “she didn’t even thank you.”

  Vester shrugged. “She’s a Councilor, and perhaps one of the most powerful Reds ever. Why would she even talk to me?”

  Billy suddenly knew what he looked like to other people, hopeless and wallowing in self-pity, however well-warranted it might be. He didn’t like it. “Hey,” he said to Vester. “You were looking down so you didn’t see, but,” he winked, “she almost smiled at you.”

  “Really?” asked Vester, for all the world looking like he was Billy’s age again. Then his shoulders drooped. “Well, that’s probably because she remembers seeing me in school.”

  “You went to school with her?” asked Billy, incredulous.

  Vester nodded. “Yeah, we were both in college together. I knew she was on the fast track to become the Red Councilor even then. She was in my biology class with me.” He grimaced. “I didn’t get very good grades; was always the one who kept everyone after class because I had about a thousand questions about the things I hadn’t understood about the teacher’s lecture.”

  Billy knew what that was like. Occasionally he had made his own elementary school class late for recess when he’d had a last minute question or two. Facing thirty kids who hated your guts for making them lose the prime spots in the line for the swings or the slides was worse than facing a firing squad.

  “Well,” said Billy, still trying to console his friend. “You saved her, and that’s the truth. She’s bound to remember that even more than biology class.”

  Vester shrugged.

  “I hate to interrupt this little ‘chin-up’ session,” said Tempus after a moment. “But I do want to point out that we are currently hiding in a volcano without any kind of plan for the future.”

  “I like the idea of hiding,” said Billy. And he did. Hanging on a precipice hundreds of feet over boiling lava was a huge improvement in his eyes over being chased by zombies, though he wasn’t sure whether he liked it better than being chased by murderous giant rock scorpions in space. He decided he’d have to call that one a tie.

  “Actually,” said Ivy brightly, “we do have a plan.”

  “Really, young lady?” asked Tempus.

  “What plan?” said Vester, always more to the point than the Gray Power was.

  Ivy’s brightness dimmed almost instantly. “I’m not sure.”

  “So,” said Tempus slowly, “we do have a plan, but we’re not sure what it is.” Ivy nodded. “I’m afraid I don’t see the difference between that and not having a plan at all,” said Tempus.

  Billy agreed. Wasn’t a plan something you knew you were going to do—or at least something you knew you were going to try? How could they have a plan and not know what it was?

  “Let me explain,” said Ivy.

  “Please do,” answered Vester. There was a burble nearby, and a small pocket of lava popped open in the wall near to the precipice. Vester absent-mindedly walked over and put his hand in the flowing lava, looking like he was as refreshed by that as most people would be by putting their feet up and enjoying a cold drink.

  “On the tower, right before Lumilla was, well, touched,” said Ivy, “she managed to say something.”

  “Was it ‘Argh, I’m about to be zombified’?” asked Tempus.

  “No, but that would have made more sense,” said Ivy. “What she said was, ‘Tell Billy—’”

  “Tell me?” asked Billy incredulously. “Tell me what?”

  “Well, I’m going to tell you if you’ll let me,” said Ivy. “She said, ‘Tell Billy to go to where you’re empty when you should be full, and say the words you’ve heard me say to the jumper that never quite eats.’”

  Everyone was silent for a moment.

  Finally, Billy said. “Why would she tell you to tell me that?”

  Ivy shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I said, the words don’t make any sense to me.”

  “No, not the words,” Billy said. “I mean, why would she want to tell me?” Everyone looked at him blankly. “I’m just a kid. Not even a Determined Power, maybe not a Power at all. So why would Mrs. Russet bother telling you to give me a nonsense message right in the middle of a life and death struggle with the undead?”

  “That is a good question,” said Vester.

  Tempus cleared his throat. “Yes, Tempus,” said Ivy. “If you have something to say, just say it. Let’s do away with the pauses while you wait for us to realize how smart you are, shall we?”

  Tempus frowned good-naturedly. “I don’t wait for you to realize that. I assume that you already know it. In any case,” he continued, “I think that the reason she shouted the ‘nonsense’ is quite clear.”

  Everyone looked at him. Clearly it wasn’t clear to anyone except him. Which, Billy realized, made some sense: nonsense might appear more sensible to someone who was so prone to speaking a great deal of nonsense himself.

  “Don’t you see?” asked Tempus. “She wants us to do something. Something important.”

  “So why not just tell us what that is?” asked Ivy.

  “Code,” murmured Vester.

  Tempus nodded at the fireman. “You don’t really remember the last war,” he said to Ivy. “But there are certain things one doesn’t do in such a conflict. Go trick-or-treating behind enemy lines, for instance, or shout ‘Magical Bomb!’ in a crowded theater on Powers Island. And one more thing you don’t do is scream out ‘Hey, there’s something terribly important that needs doing, and here’s what it is’ while you’re standing in the middle of the enemy’s army.” He smiled playfully. “It rather gives away one’s plan of attack, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “So she gave Ivy a code? A clue of what we have to do?” asked Billy.

  “Exactly, my boy,” said Tempus.

  “But why for me?” asked Billy.

  Tempus shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated gesture of ignorance. “Who knows? Perhaps because it was the only thing that came to mind. Maybe because she panicked. However,” he said, looking piercingly at Billy, “I tend to think that it’s because you are something very special.”

  “I’m not special,” said Billy.

  “Yes, you are,” said Vester. “You had to be, or else Mrs. Russet wouldn’t have risked her life for you.” He pulled his hand from the lava where he had been holding it, and when he pulled out his hand he also pulled a long string of the molten stuff with it. In an instant, the string had turned into a small snake of lava, which coiled itself around Vester’s wrist like a pet, a tongue of fire flicking out of its mouth. Billy was fascinated by the s
ight, but his eyes were drawn back to Vester’s face when the fireman said, with strange intensity, “Do you remember what Ivy called Mrs. Russet when you were being Gleaned? When Eva Black was about to kill you to see if you Glimmered?”

  Billy thought hard, but couldn’t remember anything specific. He supposed that impending death might make a lot of people’s memories a bit spotty. He shook his head.

  “Ivy called her your Sponsor,” said Vester. “Do you know what that means?”

  “That Mrs. Russet was in charge of helping me with the tests to see if I’m a Power?” asked Billy.

  “Yes, partly,” nodded Vester. “But more than that, it meant that she was willing to protect you. A Gleaning is risky. Not everyone comes back. Some people die on the Gleaning table.”

  “But she said I’d be safe,” said Billy, shocked.

  “And she meant it,” said Vester. “Because when she said she was your Sponsor, she was doing more than volunteering to be your teacher in the world of the Powers. She was saying that if you died and it didn’t look like we could bring you back, she would have sacrificed her own life force and passed it to you so that you could live.”

  “You mean,” Billy said, thunderstruck, “she could have died?”

  Vester nodded. “She would have died. So you could live. And Mrs. Russet, as nice as she can be, doesn’t go around volunteering to trade her life for just anyone. She clearly believes that you are important, Billy. That you have some critical part to play in the battle that we’re now in. And I tend to agree with her. You’ve managed to wound a Black, you survived your first Test of Power, you have ridden a Unicorn. And since you came to Powers Island, there have been all manner of strange events.”

  “Like Fulgora turning into a dragon,” said Tempus.

  “Not to mention Wolfen showing up, and the war beginning,” agreed Vester. “Billy, I think that you are at the center of all this. So Mrs. Russet’s message to you was one that only you would understand, and whatever it means, we have to figure it out, and do it quick.”