Billy: Messenger of Powers (63 page)

As before, the trip through the earth was beautiful. The crystalline caves and Volvo-sized diamonds spun past them as they traveled through the world. The only difference this time was that Billy was traveling with his friends. All of the Powers seemed to take the trip well, except Tempus. The old Gray Power clutched at the sides of his granite chair and insisted on saying things like “Too fast, too fast!” and “Watch out for the crystals!” and “We’re all going to die!” at odd intervals. Apparently the Wind wasn’t so comfortable when buried in the Earth.

But still, the trip went quickly, and before Billy realized it they were passing through the dark void that marked the separation between Powers Island and the rest of the world. It was different this time, he realized: the void was not quite so black and forbidding. In fact, rainbow spectrums of color could be glimpsed in the darkness, sparkling like deep jewels, as though something was being born within the emptiness.

And then they were through, and the chairs pushed them up, up, up, until suddenly normal light flowed into Billy’s eyes and he saw that they were back in the Accounting Room once more.

Unfortunately, so were the zombies. Or perhaps they had never left at all, simply waiting there for their Darksider masters to return. But regardless of the reason, Billy once again faced dozens of the undead.

Apparently the small army had been given new instructions, to destroy everyone and anyone who might appear in the room without waiting for them to be Counted and receive their identity badges, because as one the fiends moved toward Billy and his friends. Their huge bulbous eyes glinted dully in the light of the Accounting Room, and Billy shrank back against Vester, who was standing nearest to him. Had they all traveled such a hard road and suffered so much, only to be rendered unconscious and taken right back to Dark Isle again?

But Billy had failed to reckon with an important fact: the zombies
had
taken his friends before. But that had been when neither Fulgora nor Mrs. Russet had been among them. And here, for the first time, he got a glimpse not just of how wise and knowing Mrs. Russet could be, but also how dangerous.

Fulgora gave a sharp battle cry and lanced out with the twin swords of fire that were once more in her hands, skewering the two closest zombies. The undead warriors puffed into ash immediately and then disintegrated under the force of her Element. Before this had even happened, though, Fulgora was already whirling on to the next soldiers, and two more were dispatched.

But that was nothing to what Mrs. Russet did. She watched Fulgora’s deadly dance for a few moments, then sighed. “Children,” she said in resignation. She leaned down and picked up a small pebble from the ground at their feet, and it slowly lengthened into the crystal staff that Billy now guessed Mrs. Russet used to focus and amplify her power. As soon as the staff had grown to its full size, she said, “Fulgora, withdraw.”

The Red Lady did so immediately, whirling about after impaling and destroying two more zombies, then rushing back to rejoin the group of Powers with Billy at its center. The zombies followed as she did so, soon tightly surrounding the friends.

“Uh, Lumilla,” said Ivy as the creatures drew near. “Now would be a good time.”

“I know my dear,” said Mrs. Russet.

“So could you get on with it?” asked Ivy nervously as fatal fingers slowly reached out to touch her and the others.

“Certainly,” said Mrs. Russet. A cold smile was on her face now. “I just wanted to enjoy the moment a bit.” And with that, she stamped the foot of her scepter down, tattooing a quick two-hit drum beat on the floor.

And nothing happened.

The zombies grew closer. Only inches away.

“Mrs. Russet? You going to do something?” squeaked Billy.

That cold smile Mrs. Russet was wearing grew a bit. “Still enjoying the moment,” she said. And then, with a rumble and a shock of movement, the floor under the zombies suddenly disappeared. Or rather, it moved upward in a sudden eruption, and with a thud and a rather disturbing “squooosh” that Billy knew would be a featured attraction in his nightmares for years to come, the zombies were all squashed between the ceiling and the floor that had suddenly risen up to meet it like a huge metal press.

Or zombie press, thought Billy.

Thankfully, the part of the floor that had just moved stayed where it was, so he was spared the sight of squoooshed zombie flesh. Now the room was considerably smaller, only a loose pocket around where he and his friends stood, and a small trio of halls leading to the three mannequin-like Counters and then to the elevators beyond.

“Cut it a bit close, didn’t you old girl?” asked Tempus, though Billy could tell the Gray Power wasn’t at all upset, and had in fact probably rather enjoyed the zombies’ mode of passing.

Mrs. Russet’s eyes were still cold, but some warmth flowed back to her face. “I did,” she said. “But anyone who has been tortured at the hands of the Darksiders gains an appreciation for life’s black moments of comedy, don’t you think?”

“Quite so, quite so,” rumbled Tempus with a chuckle. Then he went to a Counter and collected his badge. The others followed suit, and soon only Billy was left. He was fairly nervous and excited: here he was, joined with the leaders of the Dawnwalkers, preparing for battle with the Darksiders. He had just witnessed if not actually helped with a mass squooshing by the Dawnwalkers’ leaders.
He
was now a Dawnwalker. He could at last be Determined.

So his hand was almost shaking as he reached out to touch the button on the side of the mannequin’s case. The badge fluttered into its slot. He picked it up….

And his expression fell. “Billy—unDetermined” was all the badge said.

He put the badge on, slowly, and Vester must have seen and understood Billy’s disappointed expression. The fireman moved closer to him, then kicked the Counter case as though it was a soda machine that had given him orange when he wanted lemon-lime. “Do these things ever get it wrong?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Never,” answered Mrs. Russet. She appeared perplexed as well.

“But surely after all he’s done, he’s earned the right to be called a Dawnwalker,” said Ivy.

“I would agree,” said Mrs. Russet. “But apparently there is something about Billy—something deep and hidden—that will not permit this to happen. Just one more mystery about our young Messenger.”

Billy was still crestfallen, but he put his badge on and moved to join his friends in front of the elevators. Vester’s arm on his shoulder helped him feel somewhat better, as did the realization that Mrs. Russet had called him “Billy.” Not “Mr. Jones” or “you lazy excuse for a history student” or “hey you I told you no sleeping in class.” Just “Billy.” He didn’t want to make a big deal of it, since he wasn’t sure she had even realized she did it, but he felt warm inside.

She called me Billy, he thought. And smiled. “What now?” he asked as he joined his friends.

Mrs. Russet pressed one of the elevator call buttons, and a door opened almost immediately. “We go up,” she said.

The group stepped into the elevator, and Billy was more than a little surprised that no jokes or offers of candy or anything else came out of the elevator as they did so. What was wrong with it?

Then the elevator did speak. “Floor?” it said morosely.

“Top,” said Mrs. Russet.

“Yeah, whatever.” With a start, Billy realized that this elevator had a New York accent. It was the same elevator that had taken Billy to Powers Stadium and then later to the top of the tower. But where before it had been friendly and joking, now it was bellicose and moody.

“What’s wrong?” Billy asked, touching the elevator walls.

“They don’t like me to talk,” said the elevator dismally. “Just take you to your floor and be done with it.”

“Well it’s different now,” said Billy.

“Actually, Billy,” interjected Tempus with a whisper, “it might be better this way. Some of these elevators talk entirely too much and make entirely too little sense.”

Billy ignored the old Gray Power, particularly since he knew that the same could be said of Tempus. “Come on,” he said to the elevator. “How about a joke?”

“No way,” was all the elevator said, and then it shut up and refused to talk any more.

Billy was sad, but couldn’t blame the device. It must be terrible to shuttle Darksiders around all day long. If he had to take Mrs. Black and Cameron around all the time…he shuddered at the thought.

He turned to Mrs. Russet instead. “Why are we going to the top?” he asked her.

“Elementary strategic positioning,” answered Fulgora without waiting. “Secure the high ground first, if at all possible the greatest defensible position, then reconnoiter and strategize based on the available resources and the dictates of the battlefield.”

Billy looked blankly at her, and Vester simplified: “It’s always better to start a fight when you’re already on top,” he said.

Billy still didn’t really understand, but he was quiet until the elevator lurched to a halt and opened. “We’re here,” it said. “Now get out.”

Billy and the others did, and as they exited he heard Ivy gasp.

That’s right, thought Billy, she hasn’t been up here since before the first attack ended. She hasn’t seen what it looks like now.

And with that thought, he was reminded forcefully of the fact that last time he had come up here, Wolfen had been waiting for him, staring at the crystal shard that still pierced the center of the Diamond Dais. But when Billy looked around, he saw with relief that the Dark Master was nowhere to be seen.

I wonder where he is? thought Billy. Then realized he’d probably rather not know.

Mrs. Russet, meanwhile, stamped her crystal staff again, and the stone floor of the tower top started to ripple and sway. Soon, there was a castle battlement and walls that had surrounded the Diamond Dais, an impromptu pillbox of sorts, solid and at least somewhat sheltered from any attacks. Mrs. Russet motioned them inside, walking toward the Diamond Dais, and once again the stone steps appeared before her and she was able to walk up them to the podium. Fulgora followed, and the two women sat on the Brown and Red Thrones, seeming to find great comfort in their return to these seats of Power.

“What happens now?” asked Vester. He stood close to the edge of the Dais, head respectfully down.

“Ivy,” said Mrs. Russet, “take a vine down to the beach. See if you can find your father. If you do, rouse him and bring him back here. If not, return and report on how many of our forces
are
here.”

Ivy’s face lit up at the mention of her father. She held out a hand, and one of the many thick vines that still lay all over the top of the tower writhed toward her. It sprouted a hand-like set of branches as it did, and they grasped her and pulled her quickly away, taking her over the top of the tower in an instant. It would have seemed odd to Billy before, but now after his time of exposure to the Powers, all he thought was, That’s cool.

“What do we—” began Vester, but Fulgora held up a silencing hand.

“Wait a moment,” she said. “Starting a campaign is much easier when you begin with adequate information resources, so let us see if Veric returns with information that can be of use.”

And sure enough, a few minutes later the vine that had disappeared with Ivy in its grasp returned, this time holding both Ivy and Veric. The Green Councilor was clearly ecstatic to be holding his daughter, though he seemed a bit sleepy and somewhat unsure of his surroundings.

The tree branch deposited Ivy next to Vester, Tempus, and Billy beside the Diamond Dais, then carried Veric the Green to his Throne of Life. The man sank into it with a sigh of happiness, and Billy could see the tendrils that coated the Throne whipping out to caress and touch the man with healing fingers.