Billy: Messenger of Powers (74 page)

“His Fizzles,” said Ivy softly. “Too many of them were destroyed. It took too much out of him.”

Billy leaned in to the old man. Rumpelstiltskin squinted, as though blinded by the light, and then smiled. “Well who are you, young man?” he asked.

“Billy. Billy Jones.”

The old man smiled. “I knew a Billy Jones once,” he said weakly. Then he added, “But you’re nothing like him.”

Billy smiled and laughed, bittersweet tears running down his nose. He turned to his friends. “Can’t something be done?” he asked.

Mrs. Russet shook her head, then moved away, far enough that she was out of earshot.

Billy watched her go. “Shouldn’t she be here?” he asked. “Shouldn’t she be with him?”

Vester shook his head. “She should, but he doesn’t know her. And she can’t bear to see him die like that.” Without thinking, the fireman reached out his good hand and took Fulgora’s. She flinched in surprise, then slowly Billy saw her fingers curl around those of the fireman, the two young Red Powers drawing support from one another in this sad moment.

“How long does he have?” asked Billy.

“Only a few minutes at most,” replied Ivy after feeling Rumpelstiltskin’s head. “Death is coming to claim him, and the Earthtree sings for his soul.”

And with that, Ivy herself began singing, a wordless tune that nonetheless spoke of grief, and loss, and sadness. But it also spoke of hope, and happiness, and life born from the ashes of despair.

Billy felt himself join in the song, unsure of how he knew what the tune should be, but knowing it nonetheless, and singing not just for the passage of Rumpelstiltskin—Terry to his friends—but for all those who had suffered and fought to protect the world of the Powers. It was, Billy realized, the Earthsong, the song of Life. And it was beautiful, because it always went on, throughout eternity.

Then, a noise interrupted him and Ivy. A beating of great wings. A sound of wind and fire. They all looked up, and slowly, gracefully, a form that Billy remembered well dropped from the sky.

Billy’s friends all gasped and gaped, and Billy had another one of those “I told you so” moments. This time, however, he actually gave voice to the sentiment.

“See?” he said. “I
told
you that I’d seen a Unicorn.”

And so it was. The magnificent flying horse with the horn of gold settled slowly to the earth beside them. It looked at the group, meeting the eyes of each one in turn, then turned to Rumpelstiltskin’s still form. The old man was breathing only with difficulty, clearly showing that he was not long for the earth.

Mrs. Russet came running up, concern for her husband etched into her face as the huge animal stepped toward him. “What are you doing?” she cried, anguish in her voice. “What more can be done to him?”

But Billy stopped her, standing in front of her before she could interfere with whatever the Unicorn was doing. “Wait,” he said.

The Unicorn nodded at Billy, as though to thank him for his help. Then it leaned toward Rumpelstiltskin, just as the old man breathed one last breath, and then was still.

Mrs. Russet let out a sob of grief, and then that sob turned to a wail of fear as the Unicorn leaned in even closer. Slowly, it dropped its head, until at last the horn touched Rumpelstiltskin’s forehead. Then the Unicorn moved, and the horn lightly touched each of the man’s closed eyes, then his gray and slack lips.

And as the Unicorn did so, Rumpelstiltskin’s skin returned to its former pink color. He gasped and his eyes opened. He looked around at the company, clearly confused.

Then, his gaze fell upon Mrs. Russet. “Lumilla,” he said. And with that, Billy saw the steely-eyed teacher disappear, replaced by a woman in love as Mrs. Russet threw herself upon her husband, and kissed him.

The Unicorn pulled away, giving the reunited lovers their space. It looked at Billy, then it looked at Billy’s side, where the sword of the White King still hung, and nodded again.

“I know,” said Billy quietly in response. “I haven’t forgotten what I have to do.”

The Unicorn neighed and reared up on its hind legs. And with a great flap of its snow-white wings, it shot into the sky, and was gone.

Billy watched it disappear from view, then turned away from his friends.

“Where are you going?” shouted Vester. Billy ignored him, walking toward the river that ran over the top of the tower. “Hey,” said the fireman, “what’s going on?”

Still Billy walked. He drew near to the river’s edge, and then pulled the sword from its sheath. It gleamed with that inner fire once more, with the enormous power that had called forth victory from the depths of defeat. Billy looked upon it, savoring its beauty, its majesty, then hurled the sword into the river.

“No!” screamed Vester, launching himself toward the river, clearly intending to dive in and get the sword again, bad arm and all.

But before Vester reached the water’s edge, a hand shot up out of the river. It plucked the sword out of the air, then both hand and sword slid into the river and were gone in an instant, though Billy thought he could see the flick of a coralline tail as they disappeared.

Vester began wading into the river, but Billy put a hand out. “Don’t bother,” said Billy. “It’s gone. Taken by Blue.”

Vester stared at him in horror. “What did you do?” he demanded. “We won the
battle
, not the war. The Darksiders are still out there, and you just threw away our best weapon.”

Billy looked at the river, and the coolly flowing waters. He murmured some of the words of the Prophecy:

“A sword, a spear, and armor strong

A shield to wear, and dagger long

To fell the Dark and bring the Light

To call the spark that ends the night.”

Vester stared at him. “What does
that
mean?” he asked.

Billy smiled. “It means I’m the Messenger, and even though my message has been delivered, I don’t think I’m done with this world.” He drew himself up to his full height, all five feet nothing of him. “It means there are other weapons,” he said. “And I will find them.”

CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIRST

The coming hours and days were filled with reconstruction. The Dawnwalkers had regained control of the island, but much needed to be done. And once again, Billy’s friends were at the middle of it.

Fulgora was no longer needed in an immediate battle, but still she secreted herself away with Vester—whom she had appointed as her Knight Marshall—and insisted on planning a defensive strategy for the future. Vester had protested the appointment, pointing out that he was not one of Fulgora’s subjects, and besides that, he noted that he only had one working arm so he didn’t know what kind of Knight Marshall he could be. Fulgora, typically, had told him to shut up, be quiet, stop making a fool of himself, and get to strategizing with her.

As for Ivy, she went to work with her father—whom they found under a pile of rubble, weak but alive—tending to the wounded and regrowing the island. Soon, the flowers were once again in bloom, and Powers Island teemed with life. There were still evidences of the fighting, but as the Earthtree grew and laced its tendrils and greenery over the whole of the island, even what remained of the destruction was changed, and made beautiful. The island had been destroyed, but out of the destruction had come life, at Ivy’s hands.

Tempus was soon at work, too, flying over the island so that he could provide a bird’s eye view of the things that needed to be done. He clearly loved the job, laughing and playing as he flitted to and fro, calling down to those hard at work below, always ready with a joke—even though sometimes his jokes were meant to be serious comments, but just came out sounding a little off, or even just downright nonsensical.

Terry was still weak and withered, and Billy knew that he would never again be the strong and tall man that Billy had seen in Mrs. Russet’s memories, but at least he was himself mentally once again, and Billy was glad to see his teacher so happy at the return of her husband, who had been lost but was now found again. The two stayed constantly together, mostly working side by side on the top of the tower, looking at sunrises and sunsets together, and making up for the years they had lost.

But as for Billy himself, he suddenly found himself largely useless. The others tried to include him, he could tell, but there simply wasn’t much he could do. Once again, he was a non-Power in a world of Powers, like a blind man in a world of the sighted. But he tried not to let it get him down, mostly spending his time chatting with the elevators—who thankfully no longer referred to him as Boy Number 3583Q—and walking around the island. He walked its mountains and its valleys, forded its streams, climbed its trees, and felt of its power. But still, he was mostly alone, a bit homesick, and largely ignored in the press of work that followed the destruction of what was already being called the Battle for Powers Island.

One night, he was feeling particularly lonely and useless. He sat at the edge of the tower, his legs dangling out over space, looking at the empty scabbard he still had strapped around his waist. A noise alerted him that someone was coming, but he didn’t look up. Then a swish of brown robe appeared in his peripheral vision, and with a creaking of old bones Mrs. Russet slowly sat beside him.

They looked over the tops of the clouds for a time, then she finally said, “Are you all right, Billy?”

He nodded, but Mrs. Russet clearly didn’t believe him. “What is it?” she asked. “What could possibly be bothering you?”

“I don’t know,” Billy finally said. “I just feel like I’m not helping anything I guess.”

“Not helping!” said Mrs. Russet, incredulous. “Billy, you above all others are responsible for saving this island, for saving the Dawnwalkers and the world of the Powers!”

He looked at her. “Was I? Was I really?” He looked away, then shrugged. “I don’t feel like I did much. I don’t have any powers, and the only things I really did were when I felt like someone else was guiding me. So it wasn’t me that did anything, not really.”

Mrs. Russet pursed her lips. “Well, as for you being guided, just because you have a guide doesn’t mean courage isn’t required. Many a person who has been guided up a mountain has turned back before reaching the summit. And you never turned back, Billy.” She thought a moment, and then said, “Besides that, as for your not having powers…I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Billy felt a thrill of hope. “But, I didn’t really pass the Test of Earth, and I haven’t done anything other than Glimmer a little that one day at school.”

“Oh haven’t you?” asked Mrs. Russet, with a glimmer in her eye. “What about the Fizzle?”

“Huh?” asked Billy.

“Vester’s Fizzle. Prince,” she said.

“What about it?” he asked.

“Don’t you remember what you were told about Fizzles? That only a great Power can keep it around outside of that Power’s presence.”