Billy: Messenger of Powers

by Michaelbrent Collings

  Mrs. Black smiled and laughed at Ivy’s pain. “Sorry,” she said in mock pity. “That looked like it hurt.” Then Mrs. Black grinned sarcastically. “But look on the bright side, Ivy.” She gestured at Ivy’s glass vault. “You’re the only plant I know with her own personal greenhouse.”

  Then Mrs. Black gasped in clear amazement as Billy, his forehead sweating from the effort, somehow managed to stand. His shoulders were drooping from the almost physical weight of the Dread, but he struggled to his feet anyway, buoyed up by Prince’s help and by an inner strength he hadn’t known he possessed.

  Mrs. Black waved again, and Billy winced as the terror he felt redoubled. But he wouldn’t let the fear rule him, wouldn’t let himself be pushed down again. He gritted his teeth, and managed to grind out the words, “Don’t you think…Wolfen will…be angry if… you kill me?”

  Mrs. Black curled her lip derisively, but then waved a hand once more, and Billy could feel the Dread dissipate and leave him. Mrs. Black looked at him as though re-appraising something she had already dismissed as being of no value. “Well, well,” she whispered. “Perhaps you are more than what you seemed, Mr. Jones.”

  “That’s right, Eva,” shouted Ivy from her cell. “He’s the Messenger! Lumilla knew it, and you know it, and Wolfen must know it, too!”

  Billy quietly wished for Ivy to shut up. His friend was in the Darksiders’ power, and he knew that her triumphant words would not go unnoticed or unpunished. He knew that she must be desperate, jailed as she was, helpless and at the mercy of the merciless, and so was grasping at Billy’s ability to withstand the Dread as a kind of victory by proxy. But he didn’t think now was a good time or place for her to go flaunting her small triumph.

  Mrs. Black’s expression darkened, and Billy knew he was right. Ivy, too, seemed to sense that she had crossed some kind of line, for she grew suddenly silent, and moved as far from Mrs. Black as she could.

  To Billy’s surprise, Mrs. Black didn’t lash out at the captive Green Power. Instead, she just smiled. The smile, though, was more chilling than any threat could have been. “Don’t worry, my dear,” whispered Eva Black. “Your time will come. Just as it will come for Lumilla, and Vester, and any of the rest of your friends who dare stand against Wolfen.” She looked at Billy and added pointedly, “Wolfen the White, the true Messenger and King.”

  Ivy shrunk back, but in spite of the threat in Mrs. Black’s words, Billy’s heart leapt in his chest. His friends were still alive! They had to be!

  “Where are they?” he yelled without thinking.

  “Who?” asked Mrs. Black innocently. Then she waved her hands expansively. “Perhaps they are here, in the prison. Perhaps they are somewhere else on Dark Isle. I’m quite sure I don’t know.”

  Billy was positive Mrs. Black was lying, but he also knew that he wasn’t likely to get a straight answer out of her. She approached, and Billy took a step backward in spite of himself.

  “What?” purred Mrs. Black. “Afraid? But I thought you were the Messenger. Surely the White King would let no harm come to you.” She said it mockingly, her words like honey-coated poison.

  As she spoke, she reached out and grabbed Billy, her icy fingers wrapping around his pale wrist. As soon as she did, a searing pain etched itself into Billy’s arm. He looked at where Mrs. Black was touching him and saw that the skin around where she was grabbing had turned an ugly gray, the color of death. The gray color pushed its way up Billy’s arm, and he gasped.

  He felt Prince move under his shirt, and knew the Fizzle was about to strike at Eva.

  Not now, Billy thought. Not now, Prince, now is not the time.

  He didn’t know how he knew that, but he somehow sensed it was true. Now was not the time for the Fizzle to strike. There would come a time to do battle, but the time was not now.

  Either Prince sensed Billy’s thoughts somehow, or the snake decided on its own to lay low for a time, because Billy felt the serpent flatten out against his skin and suddenly stop moving.

  “Come,” said Mrs. Black. She touched her ever-present scarab broach, and Billy knew enough to hold his breath. “My minions in the Accounting Room told me you wanted to talk to Wolfen,” she said, and Billy felt that familiar yanking as he was Transported from his cell to somewhere else. “And I guarantee you,” she said as they arrived in their new destination, “Wolfen wants to talk to you, too.” She laughed, that dark, evil laugh of hers. “Talk, and maybe other things. Things that are much more…fun.”

  A dark crackle of electricity marked her words, and a second later, before Billy had a chance to really realize where they were, a clap of thunder struck close nearby. It was so loud that Billy felt like his ears were going to explode. He winced, and then opened his eyes.

  “Never will those who wage war tire of deception,” said Mrs. Black. Then, a moment later, she added, “For mine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory.”

  Billy didn’t know what she was talking about. But he did know that what he saw terrified him. He had seen Dark Isle once before, on the wings of the Unicorn when the magical creature spirited him away from his first Test of Power. But that had been a view from afar. He had glimpsed the rocky cliffs, the black and shark-infested waters that surrounded the island, the forbidding rocks and sand. He had not, however, stood upon its highest peak, as he did now.

  Behind him, and far below, he could hear the crash of water. He risked a look, and saw that the peak on which he stood ended only a few scant feet behind them, falling away in a vertical line that ended in the angry ocean that surrounded the island.

  Then he looked back to the middle of the island. To the horribly gleaming majesty of the newest addition to Dark Isle: the prison.

  Billy had himself been inside the prison only moments before, and had felt burdened by its enormity. Looking at it from the outside he felt absolutely crushed by it, even though he was no longer captive in those crystal cubes. The prison was as huge as he had suspected, a gleaming mountain of glass blocks that had been carefully stacked, as though some evil toddler had used the island as its playground. Only instead of the colorful letters and pictures of a child’s playthings, each of these blocks held a single isolated soul inside it.

  Billy felt completely discouraged. He knew that Powers Stadium had held over a hundred thousand people in it, and that half of them had been Dawnwalkers. Vester had also told him during Napalm’s Challenge of the lovely Fulgora that that was almost all the Powers on the whole earth. And if that was true, and if Billy’s eyes weren’t lying, probably most of the Dawnwalkers were already here, incarcerated in this crystalline prison.

  Mrs. Black’s hand traced itself along his shoulders, almost playfully. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked. “Twenty years in the making, a plan so perfect that all would happen in a single day. A plan that would stage an attack and, in one single moment, both begin and end the war.”

  Billy looked away from the terrible sight of all the imprisoned Dawnwalkers. He peered around Dark Isle, trying to find something that would lift his spirits. But there was nothing. The entire island was still forbidding, dead and gray. It was nothing but cliff after cliff, each peak separated by a tiny valley or just a series of paths carved into the naked rock. Periodically, the stark bareness of the place was broken up by a river or a lake. All of the bodies of water seemed gray and angry, however. Not a single one was at peace: all the rivers were rapids, all the lakes were tempestuous and stormy. Most of the water drained through the angry rivers and led eventually to the black sea around Dark Isle, to the deadly rocks and the circling sharks.

  Billy could also make out people in the island: Darksiders who were hurrying from place to place, working at some chore or other. No doubt they were carrying out some kind of nefarious plot to expand the war to encompass the whole earth.

  There were also zombies. Even at the distances involved, he could clearly make out their mottled skin and those huge, fly-like eyes that all of them had. And not just a few of them
, either, there were thousands of them, crawling like death-bearing ants over an anthill.

  Mrs. Black’s fingers pushed at Billy’s cheek, forcing his gaze back to the huge prison where his friends were probably all imprisoned. “Beautiful,” she repeated.

  “What’s going to happen to them?” asked Billy.

  “They will be…re-educated,” said Mrs. Black. “You’d be surprised how many people change their minds given the right incentive.”

  “Not my friends,” said Billy.

  Mrs. Black laughed. “No?” she asked. “Well, you might be right about that, Mr. Jones. Tempus, he already went through this once, and the old gray fool could never be turned.” Her lips curled in disgust. “Some people just don’t know what’s good for them.”

  Billy didn’t respond, still looking for some way to get out of his predicament. He saw none. Even if he could run, where would he go? Perhaps he could lose himself in the cliffs for a time, but he suspected that the Darksiders would be able to track him. Maybe he could try swimming away, but then he would be at the mercy of the rapids, and eventually would find himself in the deadly ocean, among the waves and the hungry sharks.

  Billy shivered. Mrs. Black smiled. “You see, there is no hope for any that would stand against us.” She looked at Billy. “In fact, that’s why we’re here. So you can see that.”

  Mrs. Black suddenly took Billy’s hands in hers. Her touch now felt surprisingly gentle, almost caring. “I wanted you to see the lies you’ve been told.”

  “Lies?” asked Billy. “What lies?”

  “The lies that you have believed, because you have never known truth,” said a new voice.

  Mrs. Black straightened up instantly, smoothing her dress self-consciously as Wolfen appeared beside them. The dark master joined them in looking over Dark Isle. His long hair, now loose and hanging to the middle of his back, whipped around his head in the strong winds that ruled on this peak. The salt-and-pepper hair looked like some kind of evil halo around him.

  Wolfen, too, touched Billy’s shoulder in a way that was more familiar than Billy liked. He almost preferred it when Wolfen and Mrs. Black were trying to kill him: at least he knew how to react in that case. This new friendliness disconcerted him.

  “I’ve never been told any lies,” Billy managed, more to say something than because he had any idea of what Mrs. Black and Wolfen were going on about.

  Wolfen laughed. “My boy,” he said, “you’ve been told nothing but lies since you first were introduced into our world.”

  Billy was confused. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

  “The War of the Powers, the Messenger, my role in it all,” said Wolfen. “All of it. None of what you have been told by the Dawnwalkers is true.”

  “Yes it is,” Billy said. “It was in the Book of the Earth.”

  “Was it?” asked Wolfen. “Did you see any of what they told you was written in the book? Or did you just hear it second hand from the Dawnwalkers? And from Lumilla, who appeared to read from the Book of the Earth, but never actually let anyone else see it?” And Billy, thinking back, had to admit to himself that he had never actually seen anything that Mrs. Russet had read from the book.

  “So?” he asked. “That doesn’t make it a lie.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” agreed Wolfen good-naturedly. “But it doesn’t make it true, either.”

  “At least they never tried to kill me,” said Billy.

  “No?” said Wolfen. Mrs. Black laughed, appearing genuinely amused at Billy’s statement. “Who brought you to the Test of Five? Who suggested that you be killed in the first place? Mrs. Russet. Who wrapped you in weeds when you wanted to leave? Ivy the Green. Who took you to a volcano where you almost died? Vester.”

  “Who actually killed me during the test?” retorted Billy. “Mrs. Black. And who attacked me on the top of the tower? You did, Wolfen.”

  Mrs. Black winced as though Billy’s words had cut her deeply. “Billy,” she said, “I was bound by the laws of our people to kill you. But I didn’t want you there in the first place. I was doing everything I could to convince you to leave. I thought the Test of Five was too dangerous, and I wanted you to have no part of it. So I tried to scare you away. And it would have worked, too, if it hadn’t been for Ivy and Lumilla keeping you pinned there.”

  “And I wasn’t attacking you when you arrived on top of the tower,” said Wolfen.

  “You were!” shouted Billy. “You cast the Dread on me!”

  “Only to stop you from running, from hurting yourself,” insisted Wolfen. He knelt before Billy, hands still on the boy’s shoulders, and looked earnestly into Billy’s eyes. “I wanted to stop you and ask you to join us.”

  Wolfen turned to look at the crystal prison that covered so much of the island. “They didn’t want me to say anything,” said Wolfen. “And who can blame them for wanting me to remain silent! After all, it was the Dawnwalkers who stole our birthright from us.”

  “What?” asked Billy. He had expected to be taken away by Mrs. Black and killed or tortured. What was going on? Why were they talking to him like this?

  “It’s true, Billy,” said Wolfen. “There was a War of the Powers. But the Darksiders didn’t start it. It was the Dawnwalkers, trying to stop us from taking our rightful place.”

  “What place is that?” asked Billy. He still didn’t believe what Wolfen was saying, but he had to admit he was curious. He had never heard this side of the story before.

  “We wanted to help humanity,” said Wolfen.

  “By ruling them?” challenged Billy.

  “Yes, by ruling them,” said Wolfen. Again Billy was surprised. He had expected a denial of this charge. But Wolfen was admitting it.

  “Think, Billy,” said Mrs. Black. “What is the world like? Evil at every doorstep. The nations constantly in turmoil. People dying in senseless wars everywhere. Children suffering at the hands of people thousands of miles away from them. The earth itself in danger of being snuffed out by the ravages of humanity. Why would anyone want that?”

  “And yet,” said Wolfen, “that is precisely the status quo that the Dawnwalkers seek to protect. That is the way they want things to go on. And always they are there, behind the scenes, working their magic so that they are always comfortable, happy, content. Humanity suffers because they are left to themselves, and to the whims of uncaring Powers who will not lift a finger to save them.”

  Billy opened his mouth to say something. But nothing was coming. He felt Wolfen’s words seeping into him, like water into wood. Wolfen’s eyes bored into his, burning the words he said into Billy’s mind, which was starting to feel confused and weak. Could Wolfen be telling the truth? Vester had himself said that the Dawnwalkers believed that their control over the Elements should only be used by and for the Powers, hadn’t he? And Tempus had shown little compunction about terrorizing Howard and Sarah, though Billy had to admit he too had enjoyed the moment.

  Could the Dawnwalkers be the evil ones?

  As though sensing his thoughts, Wolfen said, “We’re not what you think, Billy. We’re not evil.”

  “I don’t believe you,” said Billy. But the words were more a whisper than anything. He clung to his belief in his friends, but his grip on that belief seemed to be weakening.

  “Don’t just take our word for it, Billy,” said Mrs. Black. She waved a hand expansively, taking in the whole of Dark Isle. “Look, and see for yourself.”

  And suddenly, Billy found he could see all parts of Dark Isle. It was like the Close-Up spell in Powers Stadium, allowing him to see anything and everything he wished. “What the…?” said Billy.

  “Death sees all things, Billy,” said Mrs. Black gently. “It is the thing with the truest vision, and through it we can see reality as it is.”

  Billy cast his now far-reaching gaze around the island. He could suddenly see that the Darksiders were not, in fact, moving around like people engaged in evil deeds. There were young and old, fat and thin, short and
tall, beautiful and plain people. There were doctors, and police officers, and gas repair people, and people in business attire, and some in pajamas. Just normal folks. Nor were they holding dead cats or cutting up chickens while chanting strange-sounding incantations. Instead, most of them seemed like they were on a vacation, chatting with one another in small, close-knit groups that moved from place to place. True, they were moving around in close-knit groups that had to move out of the way to avoid a zombie from time to time, but other than that it looked like any of the little cliques that Billy saw moving around the halls of Preston Hills High School.

  Most of the people, Billy saw, were smiling. Many of them were laughing. Some wore scowls and frowns, too, but no more so than you would expect to see on any street in the world.

  “Do you see, Billy?” came Wolfen’s voice. “Do you see us, not as you have been told we are, but as we truly are?”

  “No,” was all Billy could say. “I don’t believe you,” he repeated once again. But the words were weak. They were beginning to lose their meaning.

  “Then look, see one more thing,” said Mrs. Black beside him. Suddenly, Billy’s all-seeing gaze was moved without his control. It zipped through the peaks and valleys of Dark Isle, soaring above it like an eagle, passing lightly among the throngs of Darksiders who walked its paths. And finally, his view came to rest upon one person.

  Billy gasped. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. It couldn’t be.

  But it was.

  Blythe Forrest, the most beautiful girl in school, the only girl to be nice to him since as long as he could remember, the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend his own age, was walking with a group of other young people along one of the paths that crisscrossed Dark Isle. She was laughing with them, not a care in the world, it seemed. One of the kids in the group punched her good-naturedly in the arm, and she laughed even harder, apparently enjoying whatever joke she was the butt of.

  “You see?” said Mrs. Black. Billy felt her hand on his neck. “You like her, don’t you? You think she’s a good person, right? Then why not the other Darksiders like her?”