Billy: Messenger of Powers

by Michaelbrent Collings

  Billy did so, and a few moments later heard something that sounded like a fierce windstorm behind them.

  “What the…?” began Blythe, starting to look over her shoulder.

  “Look out!” screamed Billy, trying to divert Blythe’s attention from the magic that was going on only a few feet away.

  “What?” she screamed back, looking at the stairs in front of them.

  “Uh, I thought there was a bug,” he managed lamely.

  “A bug?” she asked incredulously.

  A vomit-colored shape whipped by them at that moment. Tempus. “Storm spell!” he shouted. “It won’t hold them for long though!”

  Blythe looked at Billy with a look that clearly asked both what was wrong with Billy’s “cousin” and if whatever it was, was genetic.

  Billy shrugged and did his best to look innocent.

  Ahead of them, Tempus was banging through the door, holding it open for Billy and Blythe. Billy crashed through, and had a split-second to see Vester standing nearby, before the fireman swung a heavy hand…right at Blythe.

  “No!” yelled Billy. But it was too late. Vester’s hand hit Blythe on the top of the head. It was a glancing blow, even Billy could see that it hadn’t been a hard impact, but Blythe fell as though she’d had a piano dropped on her.

  “What did you do?” screamed Billy.

  Vester pushed the younger boy roughly out of the way. “They’re not interested in her!” he shouted, lifting Blythe and putting her carefully against the wall. “They want us! You want her to be safe, then the best way to make sure nothing happens to her is to not bring her with us!”

  Billy looked at the beautiful Blythe, who was still just as lovely as ever, even though there was a half a bite of licorice hanging from her limp mouth. “But what did you do?” he asked.

  “Just a Short Circuit spell,” explained Vester. “She’ll wake up in a few minutes with a headache and no memory of the last five minutes or so.”

  Billy’s stomach sank. He knew that was probably the best thing for Blythe, but it meant she might not even remember seeing him, wouldn’t remember asking if he was going to the dance.

  “Shoot,” was all he could manage. The only other thing he could think to say was a word he had said once about a year ago, and when his mother heard about it, he was grounded for a week. “Shoot,” he said again.

  “Sorry, Casanova,” said Vester with a grin as he turned back to Billy.

  “So she won’t remember any of what’s happening right now?” asked Billy. When Vester shook his head, Billy ran over to Blythe.

  “What are you doing?” shouted Vester.

  Billy grabbed Blythe’s hand. It felt wonderful, warm and full of life. “I just wanted to say,” he began, “because I probably won’t have the guts to do it when you’re awake. But, well…you’re really cool, and really pretty, and really nice to me. No one has been really nice to me in a long time, not at school. And,” he gulped, amazed at how hard this was. “… and I really hope we can be friends.”

  There was a thud behind them, and the school door banged open. Five zombies almost fell over themselves in their hurry to pursue Billy and his friends.

  “Ivy!” shouted Vester.

  Billy looked over. Ivy had already made it outside, he saw, and had run to the edge of the sidewalk, where a small patch of lawn grew. She threw something into the grass. “Come on!” she shouted.

  Vester yanked Billy away from Blythe’s unconscious form, grabbing Billy by the collar of his shirt and propelling him forward, the two of them following Tempus, who was already running with superhuman speed toward Ivy.

  Behind them, the zombies moaned in what Billy swore was a sound of tremendous hunger and need, and followed after the fleeing friends, moving far too quickly for comfort.

  Billy looked ahead again, and saw that in front of Ivy, something was growing out of the lawn. It grew rapidly, from seedling to sapling to tree. Soon, what looked like an old oak tree had sprouted before them, thirty feet high. As Billy looked, a great hole opened in the trunk of the tree. Ivy hopped in, followed quickly in by Tempus.

  How is that possible? wondered Billy. The tree can’t hold both of them inside it. It’s not big enough.

  Then he almost smacked his forehead. Of course! This was Ivy’s Transport key!

  “Go, go, go!” Vester was shouting, pushing Billy as fast as his legs could go. The zombies were gaining on them. Closer, closer, gaining on the fireman and on Billy with every step. Their pale, rotten fingers reached out, straining to touch the two fleeing friends. Just one touch was all they would need.

  “Hold your breath!” shouted Vester, and he threw Billy into the hole in the tree.

  Billy held his breath. He wondered if, as when they had traveled through Vester’s Transport spell, the zombies would be able to follow them.

  The same jerking sensation that shivered him from head to foot came, and he stumbled as solid ground suddenly appeared below him. A pair of hands grasped him. Tempus’s.

  Billy looked up, and saw that there was a black hole in midair, through which he could see Vester, as though through a window. The fireman leaped through, landing in front of Billy. Behind him, he could hear Ivy murmur a word or two, and the hole started to close.

  But would it close quickly enough? The zombies on the other side of the doorway through time and space reached out, trying to get a handhold on the closing door, trying to follow Billy and his friends.

  But the hole closed just in time. Billy wondered if the tree at Preston Heights High School had disappeared as well, or if the gardeners were going to have a mystery on their hands. Regardless, however, he was relieved to see that the zombies hadn’t made it through. He couldn’t think of anything worse than being pursued by five zombies.

  “Phew,” Billy whispered, bending over and gasping to catch his breath.

  “Not exactly my sentiments,” whispered Tempus nearby.

  “Why?” asked Billy. But before he had even straightened up, he saw what Tempus was talking about. And immediately wished he hadn’t.

  “How could we have been so stupid?” asked Ivy.

  Vester muttered something under his breath, something that Billy was pretty sure would have gotten him at least two months’ grounding, with nothing but bread and water to keep him alive if his mother had heard him say it.

  But Billy couldn’t blame him for the sentiment.

  They were in the Accounting Room in the tower on Powers Island, the same place that Billy had appeared each time he had come to the island. Behind the group was the mummy with its “This is what happens when you don’t hold your breath” sign. In front of Billy and his friends were the three carnival fortune tellers that would provide the required badges. Behind the fortune tellers were the banks of magical elevators that it seemed could take a person anywhere on the island.

  None of that was new.

  What was new, however, was who else was in the room.

  Billy gulped. He knew, now, what was more frightening than being chased by five zombies.

  It was being in a room with five hundred of them.

  CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH

  In Which Billy is uncounted, and Friends say Goodbye…

  The zombies were everywhere. Everywhere. They stood so closely to one another that it was almost impossible to see anything but zombies. In fact, the only places there were no zombies were three thin paths that lay between the massed bodies of the living corpses, like three woodland trails between tall and frightening trees. Each path lead to one of the three cases that held the fortune-teller-like mannequins—the Counters, as Vester had called them—that provided badges to all the Powers who came to the island. A person would be able to walk to the Counters without having to go through—and be touched by—a zombie, but would not be able to go anywhere else,

  Tempus raised his arms with a shout, clearly preparing to cast a spell and go out with a bang that would take as many of the zombies with him as possible.


  “Wait!” shouted Vester. He pulled at the old man’s arms.

  Tempus resisted. “They won’t get me that easily!” he shouted. “Not this time!”

  “But look! Look!” screamed Vester. “They’re not moving! They’re not attacking!”

  Tempus lowered his arms and looked around. Billy did likewise, forcing himself to move slowly in spite of the panic that threatened to overwhelm him at any moment. He didn’t want to make any sudden moves that might trip a reaction from the zombies.

  What Vester had said was true. The zombies, hundreds of them, were all looking at Billy and his friends. But none of them was moving.

  “What are they waiting for?” asked Ivy.

  Vester’s eyes closed and he pointed at the three paths between the zombies, the paths that led straight to the Counters. “They’re waiting for us to get our badges,” he said with a tone that sounded almost resigned to Billy, as though he had lost all hope.

  “I don’t get it,” quavered Billy. The weight of the zombies’ stares was almost palpable, bearing down on him like a lead blanket.

  “It’s the way Powers Island was designed, remember?” asked Vester. “The White King made it so that there would always be an equal number of Darksiders and Dawnwalkers on the island. And the way we know that is because every single person who comes to Powers Island shows up here before anything else. This room is the only way to get onto the island, you can’t appear anywhere else without coming here first.”

  “So?” said Billy, still confused, still terrified. “What does that have to do with why they’re not trying to cream us?”

  “Because most people can’t tell a Dawnwalker from a Darksider just by looking at them,” said Ivy, suddenly catching on. “So to keep the count of who’s what on the island, the Counters were designed. Then the Council monitors—or used to monitor,” she interjected with a sad frown, “how many of each side came through here.”

  “Simply put,” finished Vester, “the zombies are probably under orders to wait until any arriving Powers get their badges, then if they’re Dawnwalkers, the zombies will pounce on them.”

  “Then why don’t we just go?” asked Billy. “Just Transport out of here? I know Mrs. Russet said to come here, but she couldn’t have known about….” He gestured wildly at the legions of undead that loomed like terrifying gargoyles all around them.

  “Remember that are two types of Transport spell,” said Vester. “If you use an Imbued Object, then it leaves the door open behind you. With this many zombies, it’s certain we still wouldn’t be able to get away: the zombies would just follow us to wherever we went and fight us there. And if we do a Transport spell without a key, then it takes a couple seconds to gear up for it. And I’m betting,” he said in a whisper, “that these guys are under orders to jump on anyone who tries that.”

  “So we’re goners,” Billy said, almost moaning. At this point, he had already faced almost-certain death enough times that he would have expected to be used to it by now, but apparently one never got quite used to one’s own impending demise.

  In that respect, he realized, the looming threat of death was a lot like talking to girls. He also realized at the same moment that it was a bit odd to be thinking of girls at a time like this, and forced himself back to the more immediate problem: staying alive.

  “All of us goners? Not necessarily,” said Tempus. The old man was chewing his lip thoughtfully, looking around with an uncharacteristically coherent expression.

  “What is it?” asked Vester. “You see some way out for us?”

  “Not for all of us,” said Tempus with a sad shake of his head. “But perhaps,” he added, “for one.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Ivy. “We can’t Transport anyone out of here, any more than we could do it for ourselves.”

  “I don’t think we have to,” said Tempus. He thought another moment, then continued. “It’s like you said, Ivy, the zombies are waiting for Dawnwalkers. But one of us isn’t a Dawnwalker.”

  Billy was confused, until Vester snapped his fingers. “That’s right!” he almost shouted. Then he looked at Billy. “You’re unDetermined, both as to power and affiliation.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “It means, my boy, that you’re about to be on your own,” said Tempus.

  “No!” said Billy, almost shouting.

  But Ivy and Vester were nodding. “I think he’s right,” said Ivy. She looked at the three aisles between the zombies, each of them leading right to the fortune tellers that would seal the doom of any Dawnwalker who came to the island. “I think that no matter what Tempus, Vester, and I are about to get caught. But you….” she looked at Billy. “You they might not get.”

  “No, it’s not true,” said Billy desperately. “You don’t have to be caught, none of you do. We can all get out of here, we just have to think. And besides, even if I didn’t get caught, I wouldn’t know what to do here! I wouldn’t know where to go!”

  Vester, Ivy, and Tempus all looked at him with sympathy. Billy felt sick inside, not just at the fact that his friends were talking about sacrificing themselves, but even more so about the fact that in this moment of terror, they seemed to be more concerned about his mere feelings of fear than they were about their own certain capture and possible death.

  “What do I do? What can I do?” he finally managed in a small voice. None of his friends had an answer for him.

  Finally, Ivy stepped forward. She hugged Billy tightly. “We don’t know what you can do,” she admitted. Billy could see she was crying a little, her green tears once more tracking down her face. He ached for how she must be feeling. To have lost her father and now perhaps to face her own death in the same day. Billy couldn’t even imagine the depth of her pain. Even though Billy and his own father didn’t have the closest relationship, he didn’t know how he would go on without knowing his father was safe.

  “We don’t know what you can do,” Ivy repeated, “but we do know you’re special. Lumilla knew it, even Eva Black and Wolfen seemed to know it. Maybe the Unicorn will come again. Maybe something else will happen. But I think that Lumilla knew this would happen. She knew that we would have to be taken by the zombies, and that you would be left here without us. Somehow she knew. Just like I know that whatever you are supposed to do next, you will find a way to do it.”

  She kissed his cheek, then straightened up and without another word marched quickly down one of the aisles to the nearest of the three Counters.

  “Wait!” Billy shouted. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was Ivy really going to just give up and go to her slaughter?

  Tempus’s hand on his shoulder answered that question. “Don’t, boy,” said the old Gray Power. “It’s her way. The way of the Greens. Though there are exceptions to the rule, most Greens will save others’ lives, but not fight for them. This is the path Ivy has chosen, and it is her right to choose it.”

  As he said this, Ivy arrived at one of the Counters. She pressed the button on the side of its case, and the mannequin-like figure dropped a badge into her waiting hand. The instant she took it in her hands the nearest zombies lunged at her. All Billy got was a short glimpse of her before a blanket of zombies came between him and the Green Power, making her impossible to see. There was not a sound, but when the zombies finished their nefarious work and then moved back into their previous positions, Ivy was gone. There was no trace of her left.

  Billy’s lip started to quiver. Was she gone forever? Had she been eaten? Or just knocked out and Transported somewhere? He had no way of knowing.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vester and Tempus share a meaningful glance. Tempus nodded, as though Vester and he had just shared some silent communication about something terribly important.

  “Go to one of the Counters now, Billy. Move as far away from us as you can,” whispered Tempus. His voice was unlike Billy had ever heard it before. It was even more chilling than it had been right after Billy’s Gleaning, when he and hi
s friends had been trapped under the earth and Tempus had whispered, “He is coming, he is returning, he is returning, he is here,” over and over in that strange haunted voice of prophecy. The voice Tempus spoke in now wasn’t haunted, it wasn’t feeble or scatter-brained.

  It was deadly.

  Billy hesitated. He felt rooted to the spot. Leave his friends’ sides? After what had just happened to Ivy?

  “No,” he whispered, though he was now almost as frightened at the terrible look on Tempus’s and Vester’s faces as he was of the zombies around them.

  “Ivy did not fight,” said Tempus. “It was not her way. But as for me,” continued the old man, and Billy could feel the hairs on his neck stand straight up as magical power flowed to Tempus, “They’ll find me not to be such easy prey.”

  “But—” Billy began.

  “GO!” shouted Tempus.

  Billy went, unable to control his feet as they led him in the one direction that was open to him: down one of the paths between zombies, down one of the thin trails leading to the Counters.

  About half the zombies in the room watched him go, their bulbous eyes tracking his movements with a predatory gleam. The other half watched Vester and Tempus, standing motionless as Billy’s two friends waited until Billy was practically pressed up against a Counter’s case. When he had gone as far as he could, he turned to his friends again.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  Vester looked at Billy grimly. The lava snake the fireman had conjured earlier emerged from his clothing and wrapped itself loosely around his neck. The Fizzle, which had previously been fairly innocuous looking—or, at least, as innocuous looking as any snake made of fire can be—now had a distinctly cobra-like appearance. It hissed sharply, the sound like embers crackling in a bonfire.

  “What are we going to do?” said Vester, repeating Billy’s query. Then in answer, Vester closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, fire blazed where his eyeballs had been. “We’re going down with a fight,” he said.