They all watched the frog for a long minute. Billy didn’t know what to expect, but whatever it was, it wasn’t what happened then: absolutely nothing. In a world where everything was suddenly not what it seemed, where flytraps ate zombies and rock-monsters were destroyed by flying Unicorns, Billy didn’t think it was unreasonable to expect that the frog would do something. But it didn’t. It just sat there, still and cold, and stared at them, and continued not doing anything.
“Boo!” shouted Tempus suddenly. They all jumped.
“Tempus!” snapped Vester.
Tempus shrugged. “I thought it might scare the frog,” he explained.
“No,” said Vester after a moment of glaring at the older man. “There’s more to the riddle. We’re at the place where Billy was empty when he should be full, and we’ve found the jumper that never quite eats. But there’s more.”
“I have to say the words to it,” said Billy. “The words I’ve heard Mrs. Russet say.”
“What words?” asked Ivy.
Billy frowned. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?” asked Tempus. “The riddle said she said whatever it is to you! So how can you not know?”
“She’s my teacher,” said Billy. “I hear her say around two trillion things a day.” He thought for a moment, then looked at the frog, crossed his arms, and said in his best Mrs. Russet impression, “All right everyone, pop quiz!”
The frog didn’t do anything.
Billy tried again. “This work is horrible. Everyone gets an ‘F’!”
The frog continued not to do anything. The frog, it seemed, had a talent for this.
Billy tried one more time. “Open your history books, class.”
This time, the frog did so much nothing that Billy was sure he’d never seen anything do as much nothing as the frog was doing right now.
He sighed. “I don’t know what else to say,” he said.
Vester looked at the frog carefully, examining it like he probably examined burning buildings before going in. “I think we’re on the wrong track,” he said. He looked at Billy. “Whatever she said, it was something that only you heard. Not something that she said to everyone, but something only you, Billy Jones, would know about.”
Billy thought. That certainly cut down on the number of things he had to choose from. The only times he had ever been alone with Mrs. Russet were that first day of school, when he had first seen the frog, and the day she had brought him to Powers Island.
“A magic keyword, maybe,” said Ivy.
“What’s that?” asked Billy.
“It’s like a password for your email or your bank account. Some Powers lock their Imbued Objects so they’ll only respond to that word or phrase.” She pursed her lips. “I wonder if Lumilla did that. My father…,” she began. She tensed a moment, obviously thinking about her father, worried about the danger Veric the Green might be in. Then she seemed to mentally steel herself and continued, “My father does that. He has a secret sentence that only he uses, and a person has to say it to use certain of his most powerful Objects. Sort of like the anteroom, where we had that hot chocolate: you had to know the right word to get through the door.”
Billy thought. Ivy’s words had triggered something in him. He remembered something, but it wouldn’t quite….
Then he snapped his fingers. “She did have something she said!” he exclaimed. “It was something she said right before she used her key to take me to Powers Island.” He inhaled to say it, then exhaled without a sound.
“What is it?” asked Tempus.
“I don’t remember,” said Billy sadly. “It was something about rabbits, but,” he shrugged. “I had just punched a bully in the nose—more or less—and I thought I was about to get in trouble. So I wasn’t really taking notes.”
Ivy looked at Vester. “Do you think you can help?” she asked.
Vester stared at Billy. Then slowly nodded. Billy looked from the fireman to the plant woman. “Help how?” he asked.
“Do you remember Fulgora’s cloak of fire?” asked Ivy. “The one she wore when sitting with the Council on the Diamond Dais?” Billy nodded. “Do you remember what you saw in it?”
“Memories,” said Billy, thinking of the images he had seen in the Red Lady’s beautiful cloak. “My memories.”
Vester nodded. “It’s a power of the Reds. Memories are a part of the Fire that moves us all. It makes us much of what we are. The good memories where we’ve done what’s right warm us in bad times, and the bad memories of times we’ve harmed others or done something wrong burn us and stop us from being happy.”
“So can you help me remember what Mrs. Russet said?” asked Billy.
Vester nodded again. “I think so. Bringing back a memory is hard, and I can’t always do it. But we’re close to where you heard the words, right?” Billy nodded. “Good. Being close helps.”
Vester held out his arm. The lava snake he had conjured up in the volcano wriggled out onto his wrist again. Vester put his hand on Billy’s head. “Do you trust me?” he asked.
Billy nodded. “Will it hurt?” he said.
“It shouldn’t. Not if I can find the memory quickly.”
“And what if you don’t find it quickly?” asked Billy.
Vester looked very uncomfortable. “It’s like Fulgora’s cloak. People can get lost in memory. Some never quite come back from their memories. They become shells, wishing for some perfect moment to happen again. So they try to re-find that moment all their lives, and by doing so they never really live.” He looked seriously at Billy, trying to convey the importance of what he was now saying. “You could get lost in yourself, Billy, and never come out of it. So only you can make this decision; only you can decide whether you think it is worth risking your own life to find out what Mrs. Russet wanted you to know.”
Billy smiled as bravely as he could. “Go ahead,” he said to Vester. He said it quickly, because he knew that if he thought too much about what Vester had said, he might lose his nerve. “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”
Vester nodded gravely. Billy felt something dry writhe across his forehead. It must be the lava-snake. Then, he felt the Fizzle move to his eye. He closed his eye involuntarily, but it was no use: he couldn’t shut out the fire. The flame touched him coolly, and Billy felt suddenly like he had exploded into a million pieces.
He found himself in a room. A room the size of a planet. Billy stood at the very center of the room, and all around him, as far as he could see, were things that looked a lot like flat panel television screens, or maybe computer monitors. Some were big, measuring what looked like hundreds of feet across. Some were tiny, so small that an ant could use it to furnish its apartment with. And each screen showed a scene, a billion moving pictures that each replayed some moment in Billy’s life. He felt like he was in the largest theater in the world, surrounded on all sides by images of himself.
It was almost overwhelming, the sights and sounds of his whole life crowding in on him at once. Billy started to bow down under the weight of it all.
“I’ve got you,” came an echoing voice. It was Vester, his disembodied words resounding through the vast room of Billy’s memories. Billy felt comforted by his friend’s presence. “Don’t look at the memories too closely,” came the fireman’s voice. “You’re not ready for that yet.”
Billy—or whatever part of him was in this huge room—closed his eyes. That helped somewhat, though he could still hear everything going on around him, so many sounds from so many moments of his life.
The sound of a bicycle bell from a day in the park with his father….
The sound of a song in church….
The sound of Blythe’s voice, saying, “…going to be at my locker in five minutes. If you learn to talk before then, maybe we can go to class togeth—”
Blythe’s voice cut off suddenly, like a plug had been pulled.
“Hey!” Billy shouted inside himself.
“Sorry,” said Vester’s vo
ice. “I’m trying to help you find a specific memory. Go ahead and open your eyes now so you can see what I’m doing.”
Billy’s memory-self did that. He saw that most of the infinite screens around him were now blank and silent. Only a relatively small number still held images. And all of them had one thing in common: Mrs. Russet.
Billy saw flashes of her all around. He heard her voice, saying everything she had ever said to him. It was so much less than he had been hearing and seeing only a moment ago, but it was still overwhelming. He could see why people could lose themselves in such a place as this.
Then, out of the mass of noises and sights, he heard them. He heard the words he was trying to hear. He looked at one of the screens, far in the distance, and as he looked towards it the scene came into sharp focus. He found himself suddenly before that scene, moving through a million miles of memory in an instant. He saw Mrs. Russet, leading him to the janitorial closet. He saw her pull out her beehive key for the first time. He saw her lips move. He heard the words.
“Got it,” the self that was himself whispered, and as soon as he said that he found himself back in the class again, back in Mrs. Russet’s room. Ivy, Tempus, and Vester were all staring at him with a mixture of support and concern on their faces. Billy hardly noticed it, though. Nor did he really pay attention to the lava snake crawling back across Vester’s arm and slinking down the neck of his friend’s shirt. He didn’t want to notice anything, he just wanted to remember what Mrs. Russet had said.
He looked at the frog.
“Buster bumpkin bunny burps,” Billy said.
The frog….
… slowly….
… winked.
Billy smiled. He had done it!
But there was no time for him to congratulate himself, because an instant later a voice said, “I wouldn’t be too happy if I were you.”
Billy’s eyes widened. The voice was the last one he had expected to hear.
It was the voice of Mrs. Russet.
CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH
In Which Billy receives Instruction, and is Chased once again…
Billy felt his eyes bulge like the eyes of a fish. Worse. He felt them bulge like the eyes of a fish with some kind of genetic disease that made its eyes so bulgy that even the other fish made fun of it.
He saw with some satisfaction that he was not the only one trying out for the “World’s Most Giantest Eyes” competition: Ivy, Tempus, and Vester all wore the same shocked expression he suspected was on his own face. They wheeled around, looking for Mrs. Russet.
“I say again,” said the teacher’s voice. “I wouldn’t be too happy just now.”
“The frog!” said Ivy.
Sure enough, it was the frog. The figurine’s mouth was now open, allowing Billy and his friends to see the half-eaten insect inside its mouth. And the frog’s mouth was where Mrs. Russet’s voice was coming from.
“If you’re hearing this, Billy, then it means some very terrible things have happened,” said Mrs. Russet’s voice. The frog kept its mouth open, but its tongue suddenly snapped out and licked its open eyeball. That didn’t make much difference to the sound coming from it, though. Mrs. Russet’s voice sounded as clear as though she were standing right there with them.
“I suspected such events might occur, and that’s why I prepared Methuselah this way,” said Mrs. Russet’s voice.
“Who’s Methuselah?” asked Billy.
“Methuselah is the name of the frog,” answered Mrs. Russet.
Billy’s eyes did their fish impression again. “Mrs. Russet!” he shouted happily. “You can hear me! Where are you? What’s going on? How can we—?”
“Stop shouting,” came his teacher’s voice.
Billy did. The frog—Methuselah—lifted one leg and extended it to full length like it was stretching out a kink. Then it licked its other eyeball.
Mrs. Russet continued. “Thank you. Not that it would matter, I suppose, since I can’t hear you anyway.”
Billy frowned. “Then how did you know—”
“Then how did I know you were shouting?” said Mrs. Russet from wherever she was. “Because I know you, young man. You’re far too excitable at times.”
Billy’s face flushed. The world could be ending, he thought, but there’s always room for a little bit of criticism in front of my friends.
“But now is neither the time nor the place to discuss that,” continued Mrs. Russet’s voice as the open-mouthed Methuselah methodically stretched its green limbs. “As I said, if you’re hearing this, it’s because some very bad things have happened. I suspect that, among other things, it is very likely that I have been abducted, perhaps even worse.”
“You believe it likely?” asked Tempus. “What in the world do you mean, Lumilla? Don’t you know you’ve been abducted?”
One of Methuselah’s sticky eyes rotated to focus on Tempus. “I say likely, Tempus, because I am not talking to you right now.”
“What?” asked Billy, Tempus, Ivy, and Vester, all in the same instant.
“This is a pre-recorded message,” continued Mrs. Russet’s voice.
“Then how do you know what we’re saying?” asked Billy.
The frog’s eye turned to Billy now. “I told you,” said Mrs. Russet’s voice sternly. “I know you. It’s not a leap to figure out what you’re going to ask and when, just as it’s not too hard to deduce that in the event you are listening to this, you are currently standing in my classroom during fifth period, and Ivy, Vester, and Tempus are all with you, Mr. Jones. Nor is it difficult to deduce that Ivy’s left arm needs pruning, Vester has his shirt untucked, and Tempus desperately needs a change of wardrobe.”
Billy glanced at his friends. Sure enough, the plants on Ivy’s left arm did look a bit more raggedy than the rest of her outfit. And Vester’s shirt was untucked. And Tempus most assuredly could have used an outfit that didn’t showcase his knobby knees and white legs quite so much.
“Now listen carefully,” snapped Mrs. Russet. “Methuselah has limited recording time. He’s a good frog, but even the best frogs have their limits.”
The frog seemed to nod at this, as though agreeing with her. It took a quick bite of the bug in its mouth, then opened its jaws wide again so Mrs. Russet’s voice could continue.
“I’ve likely been abducted. And I’m afraid that if that is the case, I need rescuing,” continued the voice. “You will have to find me, and the others who were kidnapped, on Dark Isle.”
“How can we find Dark Isle?” asked Ivy incredulously. “We’re not Darksiders!”
“Shush, Ivy,” snapped Mrs. Russet. “I told you, I don’t have much time.”
A computer-like voice suddenly broke into the conversation, it too coming from Methuselah’s mouth. “Recording time low,” it said. “One minute remaining.”
“Fiddle-sticks,” muttered Mrs. Russet. There was a wet thudding sound like she was pounding on the frog, trying to get it to work better. “Methuselah, some day I swear I’ll….” A few more wet smacking noises emerged from the frog’s mouth. “All right,” continued Mrs. Russet. “I have to talk fast. You need to go back to Powers Island. All of you.”
“It’ll be crawling with Darksiders,” interjected Vester.
“I know there will be Darksiders,” said Mrs. Russet at the same time. “Perhaps even zombies. Nevertheless you have to go there. All of you. But—and this is imperative—you cannot give Billy any further Tests of Power. There is, however, something you do have to do on Powers Island. There is one place that you can hide in, and I suspect you may find allies there. So as soon as you get to Powers Island, go as quickly as you can to—”
The voice cut off. There was a “beep,” then that mechanical voice came again, saying, “Record time depleted. Please see Powers Island Customer Assistance Department if you have any questions or comments.”
Tempus frowned at Methuselah, who seemed to shrug as though saying it wasn’t his fault. “These things always do croak on you at
the worst time,” said Tempus. The Gray Power picked up the frog and shook it, clearly hoping that might get Methuselah to divulge a bit more information. All that Methuselah did, however, was kick its legs and pee in the old man’s hand.
“Gah!” Tempus shouted in disgust. He dropped the frog and wiped his hand on his moving Hawaiian shirt. Methuselah landed with a thunk back on Mrs. Russet’s table, and then glared at Tempus for a split second before taking one more quick munch of the bug it was eternally eating and then turning back to ceramic again, cold and lifeless.
“Wonderful,” said Vester. “So we know we have to go to Powers Island, but not where on Powers Island. And we also don’t know what we’re supposed to do when we get there, or how to find this ‘secret place’ Mrs. Russet was talking about.” He plinked the now lifeless Methuselah with a finger. “Thanks a heap, froggy.”
“So what do we do?” asked Billy.
“Well,” began Tempus.
“I think we just head on over to Powers Island,” said Ivy.
“Well,” said Tempus again.
“Are you nuts?” responded Vester to Ivy. “Didn’t you hear what Mrs. Russet said? Powers Island is going to be enemy territory. Darksiders and zombies everywhere.”
“Well!” shouted Tempus. Everyone looked at him. “Thank you,” he said. Then, a bit more slowly, and in a suddenly quiet voice, he continued, “Wherever we go, I suggest we go there soon. As in, now.”
“Why?” asked Ivy.
In answer, Tempus pointed. Billy and his friends all followed the old man’s finger to see what he was pointing at. The window. The windows to the class were frosted glass: the kind that allowed light in, but didn’t permit anyone to see more than a blurry image of what was on the other side.
Still, in this case, a blurry view was quite enough. The thing passing by the window was humanlike in form, though whether a man or a woman, Billy could not tell. He could, however, make out a pair of distinctively huge eyes atop the head, and noticed a shuffling gait, as though the being didn’t really know how to move properly.
Billy: Messenger of Powers Page 24
