Billy: Messenger of Powers (23 page)

The door was open, which was lucky for him. Mr. Angle’s back was turned, and Billy was able to slink in and take his seat without the teacher noticing. Mr. Angle turned around and checked his seating chart to make sure no one was absent, then began droning about rhombuses.

Billy sneaked a glance behind him. Cameron Black was, strangely, nowhere to be seen.

But Blythe was staring at him. Billy smiled and waved half-heartedly. She smiled back, and Billy’s hopes soared. He had been so worried that she would be angry with him for abandoning her the way he had.

She wrote something on her notepad, then crumpled it up and threw it at Billy. To his pleasant surprise, he managed to catch it this time—no embarrassing misses in front of Blythe.

He uncrumpled the paper, and this time he also managed to turn immediately to the correct side, disregarding the math notes on the other side of the page. This time, however, he wished he
hadn’t
been able to find what she wrote.

“You’re a jerk,” the paper said.

Billy’s shoulders slumped. He looked back at Blythe, but the beautiful girl was now studiously avoiding his gaze, focusing so intently on Mr. Angle that you would think she was actually interested in what he was saying. This, Billy knew, was a total impossibility:
no one
could actually be interested in what Mr. Angle was saying. Which meant Blythe hated him.

His shoulders slumped even further. He had blown it. Forget almost being killed by a space scorpion. He had failed the test that really mattered.

A moment later, Mrs. Russet appeared at the door to Mr. Angle’s class. She looked around, spotting Billy in an instant.

“May I help you, Mrs. Russet?” asked Mr. Angle tremulously. Apparently he was as scared of her as were her students. He hitched at his tiny pants nervously, and one of his suspenders popped off unnoticed.

“I would like to speak to Mr. Jones if I may,” she answered.

“Well, yes, of course,” Mr. Angle managed, even though she had already turned away and begun walking down the hall.

Billy snatched up his books. He threw one more glance at Blythe and was disheartened that even the novelty of his getting plucked out of class didn’t get her to look at him. He hurried out of the class and into the hall.

Mrs. Russet was walking hurriedly in front of him, her old legs moving with the energy of a twenty-year-old marathoner. Billy struggled to keep up, barely managing to keep her in sight before she turned the corner and entered her classroom. The history room was empty.

She wheeled on him the second he entered. “Close the door,” she snapped. Billy jumped at the sharpness in her voice. “Please,” she added, as though aware of the terrifying effect she could have on people. “This is my free period, so we shouldn’t be interrupted.”

Billy closed the door, and when he turned back around he thought for sure that Mrs. Russet was going to want to know what had happened during his test. But she didn’t. Her face was ashen, and the words that came had nothing to do with Billy’s test. “What have you seen in the halls today?”

“What do you mean?” asked Billy incredulously. After all that had occurred, she wanted to know what he had seen in
school
?

“Did you see anything in the halls?” she demanded again.

“I don’t know,” answered Billy in confusion. “The hall monitors, and a bunch of Gummie Bears were stuck to the ceiling in this one part of the hall. How do you think someone can get a Gummie Bear up there?” he began, but his voice petered out when he saw the venomous glare that Mrs. Russet was directing at him. He gulped. “What’s going on?”

Mrs. Russet shook her head. “I don’t know. The Book of Earth has something I’ve never seen before, not in my lifetime, at any rate.”

“What?” he asked.

“A blank page,” she responded.

“So it has a blank page, so what?” he asked.

“You don’t understand, Mr. Jones,” Mrs. Russet said. “Everything that happens on the lands of the world is written in the Book of Earth as it happens.”

Billy wondered if that included
everything
, including that one time he had picked his nose during class in first grade and everyone saw him doing it and made fun of him. Then he tore his thought away from that embarrassing moment. There were more important things happening right now, he knew, even if he didn’t understand exactly what they were. “So what does a blank page on the Book of Earth mean?” he asked.

“I don’t know. But the last entry is you going through the doorway to your first test. After that…,” she shrugged, unsure in a way that Billy wasn’t accustomed to seeing her be. “It’s as though the history of today hasn’t been written yet. As though something so monumental is going to occur that it will change the very fabric of our world.” She shook her head, and murmured to herself, “The last time this happened….”

“What?” asked Billy. Mrs. Russet looked at him as though she didn’t know what he was talking about. “The last time this happened…what?” he reiterated.

“The last time the Book of Earth was blank was during the time of the first Wars of the Powers, the time of the breaking of the earth, the rending of the continents. The time before the Truce, when all was chaos.” She looked hard at Billy. “The time directly before the first coming of the White King.”

Now, at last, she asked Billy what he’d been expecting her to ask from the beginning: “What happened during your test?” she said.

“Didn’t you see any of it?” he asked, a bit surprised. He had thought she would ask for his impressions of what happened, or something, rather than opening with a blanket question.

“Do you think I would be asking if I had?” she answered.

Billy nodded, then told her as best he could what had happened. As he did, Mrs. Russet’s brow furrowed ever more deeply. She interrupted occasionally, asking him a question when he was being unclear, but for the most part she remained silent. When he was done telling her what had happened, she pursed her lips in thought and was very quiet. She remained that way long enough that Billy wondered if she was doing something magical, or perhaps had just fallen asleep with her eyes open.

Finally, she reached into her pocket and withdrew a small cigarette lighter. She flicked the wheel, and flame emerged. Billy looked at her questioningly, and she explained, “Relax, Mr. Jones. I’ve not taken up something so opprobrious as smoking. We simply thought it would be best to have a way to keep in quick contact with each other.” Then she looked at the flame and said, “Vester.”

“Yes?” came the fireman’s voice after a moment, emerging from the small flame as though he were standing in the room.

“I need you,” said Mrs. Russet. “Can you come to me?”

“Just a sec,” answered Vester’s voice. The flame was silent for a few minutes, then it suddenly elongated and crackled. There was a puff of acrid smoke, and Billy’s friend appeared beside him in the class. He was dressed in his work clothes: a blue uniform with a shiny badge on. “Sorry, I was on call and had to arrange for someone else to cover.”

He looked at Billy. “Hey, sport,” he said, then looked back at Mrs. Russet. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“A great many things,” she said. “I need to go to Powers Island, and I think I might need Billy while I’m there. But I don’t want to take him to the Council with me…not right away. And I don’t want him left alone on the island, either, so….”

“You want me to baby-sit,” finished Vester.

“Hey!” said Billy in protest.

“Sorry, I meant ‘youngman-sit,’” said Vester with a grin.

“Stop horsing around,” said Mrs. Russet. “This isn’t the time.” She paused, calming herself. “But yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“Fine with me,” said Vester. “I was hoping to catch the Challenge match at the stadium anyway.” He punched Billy in the arm. “You in, kid?” he asked.

“Uh…,” Billy answered. It was his standard answer now, but at least he was growing to accept the fact that sooner or later in most conversations he was going to be reduced to monosyllabic grunts.

“Great,” said Vester with a smile. “When do we go?” he asked Mrs. Russet.

“Now,” she answered, withdrawing her beehive key.

“Remember, kid,” said Vester to Billy.

“I know, I know,” said Billy. “Remember to hold your breath. Two steps forward and one step back.”

“You’re a pro,” said Vester.

“Come
on
,” said Mrs. Russet impatiently. Billy thought for sure she would use the key on the door to the classroom, but instead she went to one of the supply cabinets at the back of the classroom and opened it with her Imbued key. She whispered something under her breath as she did so—probably the same nonsense-sounding magic words that she had said the first time she took Billy to Powers Island—and then stepped into the cabinet, followed by Billy, with Vester at the rear.

They appeared in the Accounting Room, greeted as before by the nasty view of the mummy warning of terrible death if one Transported without holding one’s breath. This time, however, Mrs. Russet didn’t bother to stand in any of the three lines to the Counters, the carnival-like fortune tellers that dispensed the name badges to everyone on Powers Island. She shoved her way to the front of the nearest line, pulling Billy and Vester along behind her. A few people in the line looked at her questioningly, but immediately moved aside when she said, “Council business.”

She, Vester, and Billy each got their name tags. Billy’s still said simply “Billy—unDetermined,” but he thought when it appeared in the Counter machine, the badge had said something else for a moment. He had no time to wonder about it, though, as Mrs. Russet immediately turned to him and Vester. “Keep him close,” she said to the fireman. “Something odd is happening, and I don’t know what.”

“I’m not a baby, you know,” said Billy, a bit peeved that everyone seemed to be acting like he was in need of constant watching.

“Yes, I do know that, Mr. Jones,” said Mrs. Russet. Then she looked at Vester and repeated, “Keep him close.” Then she turned without another word and got onto one of the elevators that opened to the Accounting Room.

Billy heard the elevator’s voice say, “What floor and department, please?” in its normal cheery voice, then it continued in a sulky tone, “Oh, it’s you,” as the doors shut and Mrs. Russet went to wherever it was she was going.

Must be the same elevator we went to the Hall of Convergence in, thought Billy.

Then he felt Vester guiding him to another elevator. It opened. “Whaddya want?” said the elevator in a distinctly New York accent.

“Stadium,” answered Vester. “I’m not too late for the start of the Challenge, am I?”

“Nah,” answered the elevator as the doors closed. “Still got a few minutes. Say, ’dja hear the one about the two guys that ran into a bar?”

“No,” answered Vester warily.

“Yeah,” said the elevator. “It was weird, because you’d think the second guy woulda noticed it after the first guy walked into it. But BAMMO! He walks right into it! Harharhar!”

Vester laughed weakly at the joke, nudging Billy to do the same.

“Better laugh,” whispered the fireman to Billy. “Some of the elevators can get testy if you don’t laugh at their jokes. We don’t want to end up in the Room of Destruction or the Department of Experimental Chaos.”

Billy laughed as hard as he could. “Tone it down a bit,” murmured Vester. Billy scaled his laughter down to a chuckle.

“Hey, you’re all right,” said the elevator. The doors slid open; apparently they had arrived at wherever they were going. “You can ride in me any time, kid.”

“Thanks,” said Billy. He followed Vester off the elevator, and could hear the thing chuckling to itself as it moved away.

The place they had gone to was familiar-looking to Billy. It reminded him of the concession level at a baseball or football stadium.

“Where are we?” he asked Vester.

“Powers Stadium,” answered his friend. He grabbed something from a passer-by and handed it to Billy. “Hot dog?”

Billy took the hot dog. He was a little disappointed that the treat wasn’t something more, well, exciting than a mere hot dog. Something a bit more magical was in order, he thought.

“Eat me,” said a voice.

Billy almost dropped the hot dog. He looked at it. The hot dog had suddenly sprouted two tiny eyes and a mouth. “Mmmmm…,” it said in a sultry whisper. “I’m so tasty. Steamed to perfection, with just the right amount of mustard. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to be eaten by a wonderful young gent like yourself.”

Billy’s eyes crossed in surprise. He looked at Vester with upraised eyebrows. The fireman was already biting into his own hot dog, which sounded like it was moaning in pleasure. Vester looked at Billy. “What?” he asked.

“Please,” whispered Billy’s hot dog. “I can just imagine the ecstasy of being crushed between your molars, the sublime pleasure of being slowly dissolved in your stomach acids….”

Vester started off through the throngs of people that surrounded them. Billy quickly looked around, spotting a man with a tray of hot dogs nearby, each of them extolling its culinary virtues to passers-by. He put his own hot dog on the tray and hurried after Vester, resolving never to eat anything on Powers Island before making sure it wasn’t going to start talking to him.