Billy: Messenger of Powers

by Michaelbrent Collings

  He looked at Billy. “Are you the boy?” he whispered.

  Billy took another step back. He felt Mrs. Russet stand up from her throne, holding her crystal staff aloft. “Do not touch him!” she shouted. “He is not one of yours. You were exiled, sentenced to death should you ever return to Powers Island or speak to any Power again!”

  Billy grew aware that Veric the Green and Dismus the Gray Councilors were also on their feet, the two of them standing close to Mrs. Russet, all of them tensed for battle. Fulgora, the Red Councilor, stayed on her throne, watching with interest, but without apparent fear.

  Wolfen held up his hands. “I am not here to fight, and I have not broken the terms of my exile,” he said quickly. “The terms of the exile were not that I could never return, or speak to another Power. It was that I could never return except to this one place, the Diamond Dais, where the combined might of the Council would keep me from doing any more harm.” He paused, his eyes downcast, repentance and sorrow written large across his face. “I am very sorry that such a thing was necessary, and even more sorry that it was necessary because of things I myself did.”

  He looked up. “And it is for that reason that I have come here today. I have heard the rocks speak this day. I have heard the waves shout their secrets, and the trees whisper their words of warning, and I knew that prophecies were being fulfilled. I suspected that the Messenger was coming.” Wolfen looked at Billy. “Is this he?” he asked. “The Object of Prophecy, the Messenger of the White King?”

  Mrs. Russet paused, taken aback by Wolfen’s meek and mild countenance. “We don’t know,” she replied simply. “He may be.”

  Wolfen bowed deeply to Billy. “If you are, I wish you well, my boy. For if you are the Messenger, then difficult times are upon the Powers.”

  He looked at the other Councilors. “But he is in no danger from me.” Wolfen went down on one knee, kneeling on the diamond platform, and bowed his head. He rested his hands on the faceted ground below him. “I have been exiled, and I have kept the terms of the exile. I further swear allegiance to the Council and to its rules.”

  As he said this, the Diamond Dais began flashing, pulsing like a strobe light. Then the flashing stopped, and the entire dais changed from clear to a deep, lovely green.

  “He speaks the truth,” whispered Dismus the Gray Councilor, shock apparent in his eyes. “The dais only glows green with the power of truth.”

  Wolfen nodded. His hands still touching the dais, he continued. “I know that it will do little to pay for the great harms that I have done, but I wanted you all to know. I have kept my exile. I will continue to keep it as long as it is in my power to do so, and will never put my will above that of the Council or the terms of the Truce.” He looked over at Billy, a surprising kindness in the Power’s eyes, and said, “And this boy has nothing to fear from me now, for I have truly changed my ways of old.”

  Billy saw Mrs. Russet looking down, staring at the dais, clearly waiting for it to change. But it stayed green. She finally looked up at Wolfen, appearing unsure what to say.

  “Wolfen…,” she began, but could go no further. Billy tried to imagine what was going through her mind. How would she respond to someone who had apparently single-handedly started a war that killed and enslaved so many people?

  Wolfen slowly stood. As he did so, the Diamond Dais returned to its original crystalline transparency. He bowed deeply to Mrs. Russet, Veric, and Dismus. Then he turned to Fulgora. “Still as beautiful as ever, Fulgora Candil. May your fire burn always bright.”

  Then he swiveled to face Mrs. Black. She was still sobbing, her face buried in her hands. He walked to her, laying a hand softly upon the crown of her head. “Eva,” he whispered. “I was wrong. Hate was wrong, the War was wrong. I have seen that in these long years alone.” He ran his hands along her hair. “Don’t be sad, Eva. There must be hope, even in Death. The Truce is a thing of hope, and I hope that you will forgive my transgressions.”

  Mrs. Black pulled away from him suddenly. “No!” she screamed. Her face was streaked with tears and dark lines of makeup had run down her cheeks. “I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but I don’t believe this. I don’t believe you! I don’t!” She rubbed her dark broach and disappeared without a word, leaving Wolfen with his hand still out, standing before an empty black throne.

  Wolfen sighed. He turned back to Billy and the three Councilors who stood behind him on the dais. “I am sorry. She was one of my supporters. She stood with many of the young Darksiders that I corrupted. Forgive her, her sins are not of her own making. They are mine to bear.”

  Wolfen nodded at Billy, sadness in his eyes. Then he bowed once more to the assemblage, and without making another move, he disappeared.

  No one seemed to even breathe, surprise reigning supreme for a moment. Then Mrs. Russet shouted, “Where did he go? Fulgora, can you sense where he went?”

  The Red Councilor stood and went quickly to where Wolfen had been standing. She closed her eyes for a second, then shook her head. “No, the fire of his passage is already cold.” She opened her eyes again. “But then, Wolfen always could mask his trail.” She sat back on the ruby throne once more, her red lips pursed in thought.

  Veric, Dismus, and Mrs. Russet all sat back down on their thrones as well. Finally, Dismus asked, “What are we to do?”

  “The Diamond Dais will not brook a lie,” said Veric the Green.

  “I know,” said Mrs. Russet. “This day will certainly have a long entry in the Book of Earth.” Then she shook her head. “We will have to watch Eva Black. I don’t know what will come of this for her. She may do what Wolfen said. Or she may not.”

  “Wait a minute!” shouted Vester, startling Billy. He looked over to see the fireman leaping up to the dais. “You don’t actually believe him, do you?!” he shouted, fury visible in his eyes and flushed cheeks. The tiny blue horse on his shoulders bucked and reared angrily as Vester spoke.

  “Vester,” began Veric the Green, but he was cut off by Vester’s angry shout.

  “No! That monster just dances in here and says ‘I’m sorry’ and you idiots are going to….”

  “You forget yourself!” shouted Mrs. Russet, drawing herself up. She touched her staff to Vester, and the man went rigid, paralyzed and still as stone. Only his eyes moved, still flashing with unmasked rage. “This is the Diamond Dais, and only the Council and those it invites may walk upon it.” She crooked a finger, and Vester slid backward to the edge of the dais, still held rigid by Mrs. Russet’s spell. “I know you have suffered. Many of us here have also suffered, and many of us here worry about what just happened. But the Diamond Dais says that Wolfen was telling the truth.”

  She gestured with her staff, and Vester could move again. He shivered: clearly Mrs. Russet’s spell had not been comfortable for him. But he didn’t say anything, and slowly climbed down from the podium under the force of her withering gaze.

  Mrs. Russet switched her attention to Billy. “Mr. Jones,” she said. “You probably have little understanding of what is happening right here, and I am afraid that the Council must discuss this immediately.”

  She touched his bracelet. “This will turn blue and grow cool when you are to return for your first test. When it does, get immediately to the nearest doorway. The bracelet is a Transport object, like my key, and will bring you to your first test when it has been prepared for you. Open the door—make sure no one is watching, mind you—and say the word ‘elephant.’ Then take two steps forward and one step back. And remember to hold your breath!”

  “But what about—” Billy began, but before he could finish the sentence, Mrs. Russet had tapped his shoulder with her staff. Billy felt himself get dizzy, and closed his eyes for a second, remembering vaguely to hold his breath.

  When he opened his eyes, he found himself back at school, standing in front of the janitorial closet through which Mrs. Russet had taken him to Powers Island. The door was still open, and Billy was half-surprised not to see
the island inside of the room. But it was filled only with brooms and mops and cleaning supplies.

  He stared dumbly at it, his mind still reeling. Then there was a sizzling sound. He looked down and had a moment of panic as he thought he had suddenly caught on fire, but then realized it wasn’t his shirt that had spontaneously combusted. Rather, it was his “Billy—unDetermined” badge that he had worn throughout his time on Powers Island. The name tag burst into flame, reminding Billy of one of those movies where spies get a message that self-destructs after it’s been read. Then, with a last puff of white smoke, the badge was gone, as though it had never existed, as though the entire trip to Powers Island had never been.

  What am I supposed to do now? he wondered. A moment later, a red hummingbird appeared in front of his face. He knew it wasn’t a normal hummingbird, because this one was made of gems: a tiny diamond body and emerald head, with crystal wings so thin they were almost invisible. It was a Fizzle, he realized.

  The hummingbird opened its mouth, and to his surprise, Mrs. Russet’s voice emerged. “Don’t just stand there, Mr. Jones. Get to class!”

  Billy looked at a nearby clock on the wall.

  It read 12:45. According to the clock, his entire trip to Powers Island and back had only taken a few minutes.

  “Move it!” shouted the hummingbird, still sounding like Mrs. Russet. Then it flew right at Billy, exploding into shimmering particles of dust only a few inches from his nose. Billy sneezed violently, blowing what was left of the Fizzle into the janitor’s closet. Like Billy’s name tag, the magical creature was gone and it almost seemed as though it never had existed in the first place.

  Billy looked around.

  The school bell rang.

  Students entered the hall on their way to their after-lunch classes.

  Billy still didn’t move. How could he move, how could he possibly go to something as mundane as a class after all that had just happened to him?

  Then he remembered that Blythe Forrest was in his next class.

  Well, he thought, maybe I could go on to class. Just for a little while.

  He walked hurriedly to his locker. And as he went, his thoughts were torn between thinking of Blythe, and wondering how exactly he was going to be tested, and when it would happen.

  Students jostled into Billy as they hurried through the high school halls. One of them shoved him roughly out of the way, and Billy sighed.

  He was back home all right.

  CHAPTER THE EIGHTH

  In Which Billy has Lunch, and then goes to a Test…

  When Billy got to his after-lunch class, he was almost positive that he would find out that it wasn’t the same day he had left on. He knew that he had been on Powers Island for hours and hours. He went to the class, and stood for a moment in the doorway, half-expecting his math teacher to shout, “Billy, where have you been, we’ve been so worried about you!”

  But the only thing that happened was that his math teacher—a fat man who wore suspenders every day even though his pants were two sizes too small for him and who was, appropriately enough, named Mr. Angle—said, “Take your seat, Billy.”

  Billy sat down, putting his book bag under his desk. He couldn’t believe it, but apparently almost no time had passed here while he had been on Powers Island.

  He looked around. The other students were already at their seats, paper and pens out and ready to take notes on the oh-so-boring boring lectures that Mr. Angle relished. Billy spied Cameron Black and couldn’t help but look at the bigger boy. Cameron’s nose was a little swollen where Billy had managed to hit him in the hall.

  Does Cameron know about what happened on Powers Island? Billy wondered. Does he know about me? About Wolfen?

  Cameron caught Billy looking at him and made a rude gesture.

  Well, Billy thought, whether I’m a Power or not, at least I can comfort myself with the thought that some things will never change.

  Billy swung away from Cameron, and was surprised to find that someone else was now staring at him. Blythe Forrest looked away as soon as he caught her looking, but he was positive that she had been looking at him. Billy repressed an urge to check if his pants were unzipped. Why was she looking at him? His tongue immediately felt thick and dry as a rock in his mouth, and his eyelid started twitching.

  Blythe started scribbling on a sheet of paper, which she tore off her notebook and then crumpled up. She waited for a moment until Mr. Angle’s back was turned, then threw it under-handed in Billy’s direction. Billy reached to catch it, but of course he missed. The paper ball bounced off his outstretched hand and hit him in the eye.

  “Ow,” Billy said as the paper landed on his desk and rolled onto his lap.

  “What?” said Mr. Angle, swinging around to look at the class. No one spoke. Mr. Angle adjusted his suspenders, which were fire-engine red today, reached under his belly to hitch up his tiny pants, and then turned back to the chalkboard, writing the day’s geometry problems.

  As soon as his eyes were off the class, Billy’s hand darted down to grab the piece of paper Blythe had thrown. He uncrumpled it quickly, flattening it out on his desk so he could read what she had written.

  When he saw it, his eyes narrowed in confusion. It read, “When computing the length of a right triangle, remember that A squared plus B squared equals C squared. Also, this equation can be done backward when figuring….”

  Billy looked at Blythe. She was staring at him, clearly waiting for a response. He held up the paper, then shrugged and shook his head, trying to mime that he didn’t understand. She was giving him help with his homework?

  Blythe’s eyes rolled, and she made a flipping motion with her wrist. Billy frowned, even more confused. He shook his head again. Blythe mouthed something. It took Billy a second to realize what she was saying. When he did, his ears started to burn with embarrassment. “Turn it over,” she was saying.

  He flipped the piece of paper over. There, on the other side, was the message that Blythe had sent to him. Billy wanted to curl up and die. Again. And not be brought back this time. The prettiest girl he had ever met was now sending him a note, and he hadn’t even thought to turn the paper over?

  “Are you okay?” was what the note said. Billy, his cheeks burning with feverish humiliation, seriously contemplated not looking at her again. He thought it might be better to just avoid her gaze until after class, then run out without looking at her and put an end to his embarrassment by throwing himself in front of a school bus or something.

  Instead, he turned around and looked at Blythe, though it took all the courage he had.

  Blythe was still staring at him, waiting for a response. He held up her paper again, this time holding up the side with her message to show he had managed to find it. He nodded, and mouthed, “I’m okay.”

  Blythe smiled and nodded. “Good,” she mouthed back. She looked as though she might have said something more, but before she could, Mr. Angle turned to the class.

  “Yesterday we talked about quadrilateral figures,” he began, his nasally monotone instantly sending half the class into a group coma. “Today, we will move on to the scintillating world of parallelograms, with all the magic of their parallel lines and incredible angles….”

  Mr. Angle continued droning, but Billy didn’t hear a word of it. Blythe had smiled at him! He forgot the humiliation of being rescued by her, the embarrassment of not reading her note right the first time, he even forgot the incredible world of Powers Island. It all disappeared in a beautiful face and a pair of red lips that curled up at the ends when he said he was fine.

  Billy felt warm all over. He didn’t meet Blythe’s gaze when the end of class bell rang, because he knew he was still blushing with happiness. Even when he tripped on the way out of class and spilled half his books from his backpack, it didn’t matter.

  She had smiled at him.

  The effect wore off during the last class of the day. Billy had forgotten his homework, and got a zero grade for his forgetfulness.
Worse, though, was that he realized that even though not much time had passed here in the normal world while he had been on Powers Island, time had passed for him. He was incredibly tired after his adventures, and his head drooped repeatedly to his desk. The teacher finally had to ask him if he wanted a pillow, prompting the entire class to laugh—thank goodness Blythe wasn’t in that class with him. And even after that embarrassing rebuke, Billy could barely hold his eyes open.

  He rode the school bus back home, let himself into his family’s apartment, and fell instantly asleep on the sofa. The next thing he knew, his mother was shaking him. “Wake up, Birthday Boy,” she was saying.

  Billy blinked, unsure for a moment what she was talking about. Who was Birthday Boy? A moment later, he realized she was talking to him, and sat up in surprise.

  It’s still my birthday? he thought in amazement. But didn’t that happen a million years ago?

  But no, it was still his birthday. His father came home about an hour later, and though he had to leave soon after he got home, there was time for the family to eat a rare dinner together. It was Billy’s favorite: his mom’s home-cooked pizza and garlic bread, with fruit punch to drink.

  After dinner, there was a cake, which his father insisted on lighting while holding a huge red fire extinguisher he’d brought home with him for the occasion.

  “Make a wish!” shouted his father in mock anger. “And you better get all the candles out on the first try, or…”—he mimed pulling the trigger on the fire extinguisher, aiming the spout at Billy like a fat red and black ray gun.

  Billy grinned sleepily. “I don’t know if he’ll be able to, dear,” said Billy’s mom, clearly a bit concerned. “Look how tired he is.”