Billy: Seeker of Powers (The Billy Saga)

by Michaelbrent Collings

Mrs. Russet reached for the scabbard. As soon as her hands touched it, however, there was a tremendous crash, as though lightning had struck the living room. Mrs. Russet was flung by some unseen hand against the wall at the opposite end of the room.

  “Lumilla!” shouted Tempus. The old man hustled toward Mrs. Russet, his knobby knees knocking together as he ran. He helped her to her feet, and it was a sign of how surprised Mrs. Russet must have been by what just happened that she didn’t rebuke him for helping her.

  “Stupid,” she muttered.

  “I know,” said Tempus, his face as jolly as ever. “But I’ve accepted it as my fate. It’s rather freeing, actually, and when you –”

  “Not you,” Mrs. Russet said bitingly. “I was talking about me. I’ve been stupid, Tempus.”

  “Yes,” mumbled Tempus, clearly surprised at this admission. “That is to say, uhhh… yes….”

  Billy barely heard them. He was looking at the scabbard in his hands. What had just happened?

  Mrs. Russet approached him again. A bit slower this time. She held out her hands gingerly. “May I hold the scabbard, please?” she asked.

  Billy looked at her uncertainly. “What happened? What hit you?”

  “The scabbard, I believe, was protecting itself from being removed from its owner’s possession. From your possession.”

  Billy pulled the object closer to him. “I don’t want it to hurt you again,” he said.

  “I don’t think it will,” answered Mrs. Russet calmly. “Not if you give me your permission to handle it.”

  “Okay, then,” said Billy, though he didn’t feel okay about this at all. He held out the scabbard. “You have my permission to hold it.”

  Mrs. Russet touched the scabbard, and Billy couldn’t help but cringe, worried that she was going to fly across the room again. But this time, nothing happened. He let out a pent-up breath as Mrs. Russet examined the scabbard.

  “I can’t believe it,” she muttered. “I never even thought of the possibility.”

  “What possibility?” said Vester. The Fire Power looked a bit irritated, and Billy couldn’t blame him. Mrs. Russet was extremely smart, and sometimes she seemed to forget that not everyone was functioning at her level.

  “This scabbard,” said Mrs. Russet after another moment. “It’s not just an ordinary sword-holder. It’s the scabbard of Excalibur.”

  “We know that, dear,” said Tempus mournfully, patting Mrs. Russet’s shoulder like Billy would pat a particularly dumb dog. The old man looked at Vester pointedly. “Poor old gal, her mind’s finally started to go.”

  Mrs. Russet shook Tempus’s hand off her shoulder. “I’m not losing my mind, you silly old fool,” she snapped. “What I mean is, I thought this scabbard was just a scabbard. But it isn’t. It’s the scabbard that King Arthur – the White King himself – formed as a fitting holder for Excalibur.” She looked around at Billy, Vester, and Tempus. The three of them stared back at her. Billy had no idea what she was talking about, and judging from the empty gazes of his other friends, he could see they didn’t, either.

  Mrs. Russet sighed and closed her eyes. She was probably reciting the value of pi to six hundred decimal points or something to calm down, Billy thought. Then Mrs. Russet’s eyes opened again. “This scabbard,” she said finally, “is nearly as powerful as Excalibur itself.”

  “How so?” asked Vester.

  “Well, to start with, it can’t be removed from its owner’s possession,” said Mrs. Russet.

  “That’s why it shocked you,” said Tempus.

  “Yes, Tempus,” she answered. “I tried to take it from Billy without his permission.” She swiveled to face Billy, and he almost flinched. Mrs. Russet’s stare was as piercing as a cactus needle. “But that isn’t all it does. It is said that its owner, when struck by a blade,” (and here she reached out and touched the knife that still stuck out of Billy’s chest), “will not bleed.”

  “That’s great!” said Tempus, and danced a little jig where he stood.

  “Indeed,” said Mrs. Russet, though she didn’t sound too happy.

  “What’s wrong, then?” Billy asked.

  Mrs. Russet didn’t answer. Instead, her hand darted forward with the speed of a viper striking. She grabbed the dark dagger that stuck out of Billy’s chest, and pulled on it.

  Billy cried out as the DeathBlade left his chest. It felt in that instant as though his body, no his soul, was being pulled apart. The cursed blade came quickly free, but Billy thought in that instant that he knew what Death would feel like when it came for him. Like a thief come in the night to rob him of everything he held dear. Like a tidal wave, crushing and destroying everything in its path. Like an earthquake, shivering and shaking until everything around it was fallen to ruin.

  Then the moment was over. Billy gasped, but managed to stay standing. Barely.

  Tempus reached out to touch the DeathBlade. “Don’t!” shouted Mrs. Russet, and the old man’s fingers halted only an inch or two from the weapon. “It exists only to kill, my friend,” she continued. “It will destroy anything it can.” With that, she pulled another pebble from her cloak. She placed the DeathBlade carefully on the floor at her feet, then dropped the pebble onto it.

  The tiny rock grew as it fell, seeming to gain mass from the air itself. By the time it hit the DeathBlade, it was already the size of a small boulder. The heavy rock crashed down on the blade, and the dark dagger shattered below it like glass. Only instead of the noise of a window being broken, Billy could swear that the DeathBlade actually screamed.

  Billy clutched at his chest in the next instant, that strange cold he had felt suddenly doubling in intensity. He fell to his knees.

  Vester was there almost instantly, pulling Billy back up to his feet.

  “That’s one mean knife,” the young man commented.

  “Thank goodness Billy was immune,” said Tempus with a nod.

  Mrs. Russet picked up the boulder from the floor. It shrank back to pebble size as she did so, and she put it back in a pocket. “He wasn’t immune,” she said. Where the boulder had landed, there was no longer any DeathBlade. The weapon had been crushed. But instead of broken metal, Billy thought it looked like someone had just smashed the world’s largest cockroach on his living room floor. The carpet was soaked with ichor and what looked like tiny bits of flesh.

  “What do you mean he wasn’t immune?” demanded Tempus. “The DeathBlade couldn’t make him bleed, could it?”

  “No indeed,” agreed Mrs. Russet. “And that is the reason – the only reason – why Mr. Jones is still among us. But though he was not killed instantly by the blow to his heart, the DeathBlade does not merely pierce. It infects.”

  “Infects?” Billy said, his voice cracking.

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Russet. “You now carry Death within you.” She looked at him closely. “You can feel it, can’t you?”

  Billy knew what she was talking about: that strange icy feeling that had wrapped itself around his heart. He felt dirty somehow, like he needed a shower. But he also knew that no shower could stop what was happening to him. He nodded at Mrs. Russet. “Will it go away?” he asked, though he knew the answer already.

  Mrs. Russet shook her head, and handed the jeweled scabbard back to Billy. “The feeling within you is your own demise. It should have killed you instantly, but the power of the scabbard – the power that surrounds you as its owner – saved you. But only for a time. Death is strong, and it will claim you eventually.”

  Billy clutched anxiously at his chest. He could still feel the gaping, bloodless wound under his fingers. It was cold.

  “How long do I have?” he finally managed.

  “I don’t know,” answered Mrs. Russet. “But not long.”

  Billy spirits sank. He glanced at his parents, still frozen in place. “What did you do to them?” he asked Mrs. Russet. He was trying to think of something – anything – other than the fact that it sounded like he was going to die soon.

  Mrs. R
usset looked for a moment as though she was going to tell Billy not to concern himself with his parents; that they had bigger things to worry about.

  “I cast a spell on them. One I alone know how to do or to undo. It’s called Still as Stone.”

  “What does it do?”

  “It has put them into a kind of suspended animation.”

  “Why?” asked Billy. “They weren’t going to hurt you.”

  “I know that, Mr. Jones,” said Billy’s teacher. “Still as Stone isn’t a spell to protect me, it’s to protect the person I cast it on.”

  “Really?” said Tempus. The old man was looking at Billy’s mother so closely that Billy thought it looked like he was trying to inhale her. “It doesn’t look like she can do much to keep herself safe.”

  “She doesn’t have to,” said Mrs. Russet. She looked at Vester. “Try to burn them,” she said.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” began the young man.

  “Vester,” said Mrs. Russet warningly. Billy knew that tone. It was the voice Mrs. Russet used when letting people know they better do what she said, or else.

  With a sigh, Vester pulled a cigarette lighter from his pocket. Billy knew that his friend didn’t smoke. Vester had been a fireman before losing the use of his arm, and Billy knew his friend thought smoking was about as disgusting as the idea of shoving caterpillars up your nose. So he didn’t carry the lighter to smoke, but rather used it to kickstart his abilities. Each Power could control an Element – Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Life, or Death – but they could not create that Element. So though Vester could make Fire obey him, he had to have the lighter in order to spark the flame he would command.

  Vester turned the wheel on the side of the lighter. A small flame flickered to life. Vester took it in his fingers, pinching it like a piece of candy. The fire came away from the lighter, Vester now holding it in the palm of his hand. The ex-fireman lifted the flame to his lips, and blew.

  Billy stepped backward as the tiny flame became a huge gout of fire that flashed out and engulfed his parents. The fire sparked out almost instantly… and Billy’s parents were still standing, apparently untouched by the flame.

  “Neat!” said Tempus. He clapped his hands together with a sound like thunder, and a sudden wind rushed through the room. The air turned into a funnel, a minute tornado that engulfed Billy’s parents. The old man clapped again, and the tornado disappeared. And once more, Billy’s parents were fine.

  “Still as Stone,” said Lumilla, “and just about as tough.” She looked at Billy. “We’ll keep them safe this way, until you get back.”

  “Back?” Billy said. “Back from where?”

  “You mean you haven’t told him yet?” said Vester.

  “I’m sorry,” snapped Mrs. Russet. “Between the Darksiders’ attack, dealing with the DeathBlade, protecting Billy’s parents, and answering all your questions, I somehow lost track of time.”

  “That’s all right,” said Tempus consolingly, apparently not hearing the sarcasm in Mrs. Russet’s voice. “I lose track of time all the time. Once I even superglued a watch to myself so that I wouldn’t lose track of time any more. It didn’t work though.” He sighed. “I superglued the wrong side to my wrist, so all I could look at was the back of it.”

  “Tempus,” said Vester warningly.

  “Where am I going?” said Billy. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

  “You’re going somewhere very dangerous,” said Mrs. Russet.

  Billy felt himself grow even colder inside. And he knew that this time, at least, the feeling had nothing to do with the effects of the DeathBlade. Considering what kind of threats Mrs. Russet was used to dealing with, anything she called “extremely dangerous” was probably the Grand Canyon of danger.

  Billy wanted to ask for clarification, but in that instant Vester flicked his lighter again. This time, though, he didn’t pull the fire away from the little device. Instead, the fire grew until it had become a fireball the size of a basketball.

  “Not again,” said Tempus.

  “Don’t complain,” said Vester.

  And a millisecond later, the fire engulfed Vester, then Tempus. Then it leapt to Mrs. Russet, blanketing her in flame. Billy had a moment to tie the scabbard around his waist with the leather belt that was attached to it. And then, in the blink of an eye, he felt the flame writhing like a living creature around him, too. He felt himself disappear, burning to a crisp, to a cinder.

  And then to nothing at all.

  CHAPTER THE THIRD

  In Which Billy Hears of the Greens, and Walks through Fire…

  Cresting was a different sensation than traveling by Water. Cresting – the way Powers of Fire traveled at the speed of light – sent Billy into Flame, into the heat that moved the planet and kept it alive from within. He felt like he had been stretched thin, a thing with no substance at all. But at the same time, he was everywhere at once. He felt like a bonfire, a massive flame so thick and powerful that it would burn anything that came near it… yet at the same time petering out to embers and nothingness as it reached up to the heavens. Flame was everything and nothing, energy sparking and then dying and then sparking to life again a million times in an instant.

  Billy felt himself travel through the fires of the planet, through the molten lava that was like a sea below the planet’s crust. He knew somehow that Vester was near, as were Tempus and Mrs. Russet, though he could not tell exactly where they were, any more than he would have been able to describe where one lick of flame left off and another began.

  Then, as fast as it began, the trip ended.

  But in spite of the fact that he was no longer Cresting, Billy still found himself in Flame. He wanted to ask what was going on; where they were. But he couldn’t. His surroundings were so surprising that he was suddenly incapable of speech.

  Billy had once stood in the center of an active volcano. But comparing that experience to the present would be like comparing a matchstick to the sun itself.

  “Beautiful,” he heard Vester say.

  And he was right. The place was beautiful. Beautiful, and bright, and deadly-seeming.

  It was a city made of fire. That was the only way to describe it. The buildings all around them seemed to be made of some kind of glass. But the glass glowed as though it had just come out of the glass-blower’s oven. It sent out waves of heat that Billy knew must be deadly, but somehow he was able to withstand the searing temperature.

  Between the glowing structures around them, men and women and children walked. They looked like normal people (though Billy had to admit that most “normal” people wouldn’t survive in this place), but there was something unnerving about their eyes. They looked around like they were constantly worried about being attacked by something. The people wore armor and had weapons at their sides, he noted – even the children. They were cloaked in ferocity, in anger and the potential for deadly action.

  Billy glanced down, more in an effort to avoid meeting the gaze of any of those strange people than for any other reason. But what he saw below him was just as bad. The “ground” was moving, though he found he was able to stand on it as though it were a sidewalk in any normal city. “What?” he murmured.

  “Magma,” said Mrs. Russet, his history teacher looking calm as ever. As though she visited this strange place all the time. “We’re near the earth’s core. We’re walking on liquid rock.”

  “It’s just wrong,” muttered Tempus, his thick eyebrows drawing together in a straight and decidedly unhappy-looking line. “No air.”

  “There’s air,” said Vester absent-mindedly. The fireman was looking around with a delighted smile. He looked like he had woken up to find himself in the middle of his favorite amusement park.

  “Not real air,” insisted Tempus. “Not the kind of cool breeze that you can enjoy when you’re under real sky.”

  Billy looked up, and could see instantly why Tempus said “real” sky. The air above them shimmere
d with heat waves that distorted Billy’s ability to see anything more than a few feet above his head. But in spite of the fact that he couldn’t see much, he got the distinct impression that they were under a dome of some kind, like someone had upended a bowl and put it over him and his friends. It wasn’t a particularly nice idea, especially since he also got the feeling that the “bowl” above them was made of Flame.

  Then, as he looked up, he became aware that one thing was glowing even brighter than everything else. It was an orb of light that fell through the burning air until it came to rest on the flowing ground. The light grew brighter, glowing white, then yellow, then red. As it changed colors, its outline distorted. It went from a perfect sphere to a kind of oval. Then the oval collapsed in on itself, its outlines curving and turning, until all that was left was….

  “Fulgora!” shouted Vester.

  Billy smiled. Fulgora was another Power of Flame, and was actually the Red Councilor. She was a warrior princess, and (Billy had to admit) was almost as beautiful as Blythe Forrest. But all her beauty couldn’t change the fact that she was one of the most powerful and deadly people he had ever met.

  She was dressed in armor, as she always was, but the armor didn’t diminish her beauty in any way. Indeed, it seemed to make her somehow lovelier, as though Fulgora came alive when dressed for action.

  The Red Councilor reached for Vester, and hugged Billy’s friend closely. Vester had been in love with Fulgora for years. Fulgora had not known of Vester’s love – hadn’t even known Vester existed – for the longest time. But the two had grown close recently, and Billy was glad to see that the Red Councilor had clearly fallen for his friend. Vester was one of the strongest and best people Billy knew, and he certainly deserved Fulgora’s affection.

  Tempus harrumphed after a moment, and Fulgora and Vester parted, Fulgora’s cheeks blushing brightly. “Hello, Tempus,” she said, and hugged the old man, too.

  “My Lady,” said Tempus, bowing to the princess after the embrace ended.

  Fulgora turned to Mrs. Russet next, and reached out a hand to her fellow councilor. “Lumilla,” said Fulgora. “A pleasure as always.”