Billy: Messenger of Powers (64 page)

“I’m sorry to interrupt your massage,” Mrs. Russet said. “But we could use some information.”

“What?” asked Veric, clearly still trying to shake off the magic sleep that Blue had put him and all the other Dawnwalkers under. “Ah, yes,” he said, visibly pulling himself up in his seat. “Ivy told me some of what happened. Just the gist, mind you, but enough.” He looked straight at Billy. “Thank you, young man. From what I’ve heard, we all owe you our lives.”

“Thanks and commendations later,” said Fulgora sharply. Ivy glared at her and patted Billy as though to say, “It’s okay,
I
think you deserve a medal.” But Billy wasn’t upset at all. Truth to tell, he would only have been embarrassed to have the Green Councilor gushing about him.

“Well then, what is the first order of business, Red Warrior?” asked Veric with a hint of a smile.

Fulgora didn’t even notice it. “Troop count. Billy chose extremely wisely in asking to have us all brought here. The time slowing on Powers Island means we will have some time to prepare before the Darksiders return and attack: they will have to gather, and marshal their forces, choose a plan and execute it, and the time they spend doing that will be multiplied ten-fold for us. But the attack is sure to come, and we must prepare immediately if we are to stage a proper resistance. So what are our resources?”

Veric thought for a moment. “I would say that there were ten or perhaps fifteen thousand Dawnwalkers asleep on the beach when I left with my daughter. Hard to guess the exact number, but I’d wager that’s about right.”

“Only ten or fifteen?” asked Billy, surprised. Then he clapped a hand over his mouth, remembering that Fulgora and the other Councilors hadn’t liked it in the past when people spoke out of turn from off the Diamond Dais. But apparently that rule no longer applied to him—at least for the time being. Perhaps he had earned their respect and gratitude to the point where he would be permitted to speak. Or perhaps the rules were just different when war was imminent. But either way, no one on the Diamond Dais told him to be silent or keep it down in an imperious tone. Instead, Fulgora actually answered him with a tone of respect.

“It is a mark of the genius of Wolfen’s plans,” she said. “They attacked us on a day of their own choosing, and were able to capture all the Dawnwalkers on the island, and track and imprison a great many more who had Projected themselves there to watch my Challenge. Probably about ten or fifteen thousand, as Veric has said. A masterful move that both imprisoned a great portion of our people, and likely also sent all the rest into a panic. They’re probably hiding throughout the world now, broken into useless groups and just trying to avoid being hunted down by the well-organized Darksider troops.” She frowned then, looking at Veric as she said, “Your news is not good. The Darksiders, if they muster in force, will have three times our numbers.”

“At least,” agreed Veric.

“And don’t forget the zombies,” added Vester. Fulgora looked at him and nodded, clearly coming to appreciate the fireman’s comments.

Finally, thought Billy. One thing he had come to know about Vester was that the man didn’t talk all the time, but whenever he did, it was always something that was worth listening to.

“But I thought….” Ivy looked confused. “Didn’t Lumilla just take care of that downstairs for us?” she asked.

“I took care of a few, but I suspect that there will be more….”

“Actually, I don’t think so,” said Billy. Mrs. Russet, Fulgora, and Veric all looked at him. He felt like an ant under a magnifying glance, and half expected to puff into smoke at any moment. “Uhhh,” he stuttered, “I mean, that is, you know, when Blue washed away Dark Isle, it looked like the zombies were all on it….”

“And
they
didn’t get saved by the sharks or the whales!” shouted Tempus happily. He shook Billy’s hand quickly in sharp up and down pumps as though the old man had decided to run for Congress but only had two days to shake as many hands and kiss as many babies as he could before the election. “Way to go, my boy, way to go!”

Again, Billy’s only response was a small dollop of pride that was completely overwhelmed by a huge helping of embarrassment.

“He’s right,” said Fulgora, and for a moment Billy was worried that now
she
was going to start in on him. But no, the warrior was still a warrior. “This is a tactical coup,” she said. “They still outnumber us, but with the undead at their side we would have stood no chance.”

“Still,” said Veric, “if they outnumber us by three hundred percent, that is something to fear.”

“True,” responded Mrs. Russet. “But we have two things in our favor. First, as Fulgora already pointed out, the nature of Powers Island means that time is literally on our side. We will have time to marshal ourselves and prepare bulwarks and defenses against the inevitable attack.”

“And second?” asked Veric. The Councilor of Life was clearly a smart man, but just as clearly his ways were not the ways of war.

Mrs. Russet looked around to see if anyone else knew what the second advantage would be. And once again, Vester was the one to guess. “Bottleneck,” he said.

“Bottleneck?” asked Billy. As he said it, he got the feeling that Tempus was a bit miffed that Billy had beaten him to the question.

“Excellent,” said Fulgora, now clearly understanding what Mrs. Russet and Vester had known. “They have fifty thousand to our ten or fifteen thousand, but even so, they can only come through three at a time.”

“How come?” asked Billy, then he blushed as he immediately figured it out. Everyone had to come through the Accounting Room before they could appear elsewhere on the island. So even though the Darksiders could appear en masse if they wished, they would still be forced to go through the Accounting Room in small groups before emerging to fight.

“Exactly,” said Fulgora, seeing Billy come to understand this concept. “We can prepare for them there, and perhaps hold their entire army off with only a small force of our own.” She nodded, her eyes looking upward at nothing in particular, no doubt planning strategies and troop supply lines in her head. “This might be an easy victory after all.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” said Mrs. Russet dryly.

And Billy had to agree. He knew somehow that this wasn’t going to be simple or easy in any way. And he also had the dread suspicion that, whatever happened, he was going to see Wolfen and the Black family again.

Fulgora touched her throne, and a fire-red slate appeared on her lap. She withdrew some kind of a pen from her armor and started writing, complex equations that appeared on the slate in figures of fire as she made calculations in preparation for the upcoming battle.

Mrs. Russet saw what she was doing, nodded, and said, “I assume that this means you will assent to being the battle commander?” she asked with only the barest hint of amused sarcasm.

“Obviously,” said Fulgora without looking up. Then she did look up, glancing quickly at Vester. “You will assist me,” she said in a no-nonsense tone that brooked no dissent.

Not that Vester was even going to think about dissent, Billy thought. Indeed, he noted that Vester appeared ready to explode—perhaps literally—with joy at the thought.

“All right then,” said Mrs. Russet. She looked at the Green Councilor. “Veric, go find Dismus the Gray Councilor and bring him back here.” Then she looked at the others in the company in turn. “Ivy, you go to the beach and start waking people up. Tempus, as soon as they’re awake, I want a count of how many of each Power we have. Organize them into troops of fifty.”

“Who should be in charge of each troop?” asked Tempus, and Billy was surprised to hear how un-flighty and focused the man suddenly sounded. The Gray Power had unsuspected depths to him, apparently.

“I leave that to your discretion, old friend,” said Mrs. Russet. “Organize them in a hierarchy you deem appropriate, then return with a roster of troops and the leaders in charge.”

Both Ivy and Tempus nodded, and soon were gone, Ivy being carried over the edge of the tower by one of the vines, and Tempus whipping off in a puff of air that propelled him like a knobby-kneed superhero into the sky. Veric followed suit, and a moment later Fulgora told Vester to come with her, and the two walked away, heads together, having what sounded like a friendly argument over some calculation Fulgora had made.

In moments, only Billy was left. He looked at Mrs. Russet, wondering what—if anything—she would want him to do. She was sitting on the other side of the Diamond Dais, so the shaft of crystal that bisected the podium stood between them. Billy could see her through the tall, thin shard of diamond, but the prismatic refractions of the crystal made it seem like there were hundreds of Mrs. Russets looking intently at him.

“Billy,” she finally said, “I would like you to do something for me.”

“What?” he squeaked. He really couldn’t think of anything he
could
do. He had no powers that he was aware of—other than an apparent power to get into lots of trouble—and certainly did not have any kind of special knowledge that would help in preparing for the coming onslaught. So what could he do?

“I want you to tell me everything,” replied Mrs. Russet. Billy’s look apparently told her loud and clear that he had no idea what she was talking about, because she added, “I know that you were giving us the short version of what’s happened to you while we were on Dark Isle,” she said. “I would like the long version now.” She motioned, and stairs flowed up in front of Billy. He walked up them, grateful that he was no longer being required to climb awkwardly up to the top of the high podium without assistance. She motioned again, and the stairs followed him as he approached Mrs. Russet, forming into a smaller version of the stone Brown Throne upon which she sat.

Mrs. Russet motioned for him to sit. Billy did. “Why do you want to hear more?” he asked. “Why didn’t you want to hear it before?”

Mrs. Russet seemed to think hard before answering. “Because what you said,” she finally replied, “was enough at the time. But since then I have been thinking, and what I have thought is that you seem to be at the center of everything. And I think that you will be the key to the coming battle.”

“What?” Billy asked, incredulous. “I know I’ve been at the center of stuff, but that’s just been luck—bad luck—and I don’t see how I can contribute to what’s going to—”

Mrs. Russet waved off his protestations. “Billy, I’m not talking about whether you are a Power, or the Messenger, or anything like that. I’m talking about the fact that you are an extraordinary boy—no, an extraordinary young man. Without apparent benefit of any power over Element, you have managed to become a central piece in the game we now play.”

“Game?” Billy said almost angrily. He didn’t meant to say it, but the fact that Mrs. Russet called all of what had happened up to now a game almost cut him. Such suffering and pain as had been felt by so many was no game. None at all.

“Forgive me, Billy, I meant no offense,” said Mrs. Russet. “I just meant that great events have been afoot, and you have been one of the greatest parts of them. No, don’t be modest,” she said as Billy started again to protest. “You have saved all of us by virtue of your courage and wit, and I think that whether you are a Power or not, whether you are indeed the Messenger that was prophesied or not, you are definitely an asset to our cause. And so,” she finished, “I would like to learn from you.”

“Learn…from
me
?” Billy asked, not really believing such a thing could be possible.

Mrs. Russet nodded seriously, as though speaking to a colleague instead of a very unsure fourteen year old. “Yes, Billy, learn from you. You have done much, and I want to know all about it.”

“But I still don’t understand,” he said.

Mrs. Russet sighed. “In truth, sometimes I don’t either,” she said with a half-laugh. “But still we go on, finding our way around like we’re in a dark room looking for light to guide us. And sometimes we find that light in the most unusual places.” She leaned in close to Billy, holding her crystal staff for support. “So tell me what you have done, Billy Jones, and perhaps we shall be enlightened together.”