Oksa Pollock: The Last Hope (13 page)

“But Mother, I want to stay with you!” sobbed the girl.

“Trust me!” begged Malorane. “And never forget…”

The Phoenix was now very close. It landed at Dragomira’s feet and she crouched down to stroke its gorgeous plumage. Suddenly she looked round and the Camereye followed her gaze: scores of men were flying towards the gigantic tree at top speed.

“Go, Dragomira! GO NOW!” ordered Malorane.

The Phoenix started singing a deep, poignant song which pierced the heart of every person there. An arch of light appeared against the mysteriously coloured surface and began to shine in the approaching twilight.

“Go on! GO THROUGH THE PORTAL! WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T LOSE DRAGOMIRA! You others, quickly, cover them,” yelled Malorane at the top of her lungs.

“Mother, I don’t want to, NO! Come with us!” yelled Dragomira.

Abakum and Leomido seized Dragomira and together they raced towards the arch of light. Naftali flew past them and suddenly disappeared when he reached the arch, while one of their friends collapsed, hit by the Felons. Others passed through the bright arch and disappeared. The Camereye spun round to see Waldo, who was attempting to stand between them to prevent the Felons from pursuing his daughter. Suddenly he froze in mid-movement and rolled heavily onto the ground. Dragomira gave a heart-rending cry. Further away, Malorane was fighting hand-to-hand with Ocious. She appeared to have a head wound because they could see blood flowing down the side of her face. Suddenly she rose above the ground and violently kicked the leader of the Felons, then crashed down on top of him with all her weight. Exhausted, dazed by their attacks on each other, they ended up kneeling face to face beside Waldo’s bloody body. It seemed obvious to the spectators of the Camereye that the two enemies had just mounted a lethal attack on each other: their figures collapsed and disappeared in the tall grass.

“Mother!” yelled Dragomira.

The arch was now very close.

“HOLD TIGHT!” shouted Leomido.

And the wall on which Dragomira’s memories were being projected showed nothing except a sort of black vortex, spinning at top speed like a hideous helter-skelter. When the descent finally came to an end, Dragomira’s shaky gaze turned to show a desolate, arid landscape. It must have been extremely cold, because Leomido’s teeth were chattering.

“Where are we?” rang out Dragomira’s terrified voice.

“All I know, Young Gracious,” replied Abakum, “is that we are on the Outside. Where? I don’t know.”

The wall screen blurred over and the images were obliterated by the tears brimming in Dragomira’s eyes.

O
KSA GAZED AT THE COLOURED PATCHES OF LIGHT ON
the walls thrown by the sunbeams filtering through the leaded glass windows of the classroom. She’d certainly had the shortest, most intense and most amazing night of her whole life and, even though she was tired, she felt wide awake. By turns euphoric and anxious, she was being besieged by thousands of conflicting emotions that made her tense and over-emotional. This study hour was a real bonus! Bent over her geography book, Oksa could let her mind wander without anyone accusing her of daydreaming or being lazy. She couldn’t stop thinking about the Inside and Edefia. She was drawn to that land in a deep, almost visceral way. The only person she couldn’t fool was Gus. Her friend kept glancing at her impatiently after she’d told him she had something
extremely important
to tell him. They finally managed to contrive some time alone together, just after lunch. To do so, they had to resort to trickery and hide out in the first-floor storeroom—the Statues’ Den was already occupied by students quicker than they. So it was among the brooms and floorcloths that she gave him a detailed and breathless account of the night’s revelations.

“THIS IS FAN-TAS-TIC!” exclaimed Gus, open-mouthed with amazement. “What an incredible story!”

For almost an hour, Oksa had talked nonstop. Then, exhausted and relieved at confiding her big secret, she looked at Gus in feverish excitement.

“Wow! How do you feel?” he asked, running his hand through his hair. “What difference does…
all that
… make to you?”

“I’m not sure,” admitted Oksa, her wide grey eyes shining with elation. “The fact that I now know my powers are hereditary counts for a lot. It makes me feel better. But at the same time, it’s so strange to find all this out and I keep thinking that if I hadn’t shown that mark to Baba, no one would have told me anything. I would never have been any the wiser and I’d have spent my whole life in the dark!”

Gus looked at her, surprised to see her face cloud over so suddenly. With her jaw set, Oksa continued:

“Just think, Gus, they’ve kept it to themselves all these years. They could have spoken to me about it… what’s more, they’ve never said anything about it to my mother, imagine that.”

“There may not have been any point in telling her,” suggested Gus, trying to reason with her.

“But Gus, that’s not the problem!” shouted Oksa, losing her temper. “It’s a matter of
trust
! It’s still important to know where we come from and why we’re like we are, isn’t it?”

Gus lowered his eyes as Oksa’s words hit home. Suddenly realizing how tactless she’d been, Oksa bit her lip.

“I’m sorry, Gus, I didn’t mean that, I’m such an idiot,” she said quietly, her voice trembling.

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” said Gus bravely. “See, you were just like me and you didn’t even know it… I understand what you’re going through. When my parents told me where I came from, I was only seven or so, and it made me happy and angry at the same time. Happy because at last I understood why I was different. I’d realized for years that I looked nothing like my father or mother. Anyway other people had no problem pointing that out. When I learnt who my biological parents were and what had happened, it was as though an enormous weight had been lifted. My differences were no longer a mystery and I felt almost proud, even though it was always hard for me to talk about it. When things weren’t
good, I’d think about it all and I’d tell myself that it was an interesting story, that I was lucky and that I ought to prove myself worthy.”

“So why were you so angry?” asked Oksa, listening closely to what Gus was saying.

“Because I felt as though I’d wasted so much time. I was furious with my parents for waiting so long to tell me, because it was such a relief to understand and know about it all. I could have felt like that so much sooner! That’s what drove me crazy. I didn’t cope very well over the next few months, as you might remember—we were in Year 3.”

“Yes,” admitted Oksa. “You withdrew totally into your shell. You were even more uncommunicative than usual.”

“I was bottling up all that anger,” continued Gus. “You know me, I’m not the demonstrative type. But this was worse, it was all pent up inside me. I felt like it was killing me! One day, I was sitting on my bed playing a video game. I’ll never forget it. My dad sat down opposite me; he took the console from my hands, looked me straight in the eyes and began talking to me. Then I understood that there’s never a
right time
to learn things like that. Whether you find out at five, ten or fifteen, it turns your life upside down, it hurts, and it changes everything. That’s what’s happening to you.”

Oksa gave him a long look. It was unusual for Gus to talk about himself so much; in fact, he looked more surprised than she was. He ran his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time and in embarrassment began twisting a paperclip he’d found lying on a shelf.

“Anyway, your story trumps anything anyone could have made up,” he remarked. “I’d so love to see what this Edefia is like. I hope you won’t forget your old pal from the Outside and that you’ll invite me over when you’re the Supreme Queen… er… what should I call you, anyway?”

“Yaaahhoooo! Call me Oksa-the-fearsome-ninja-Gracious!” shouted Oksa to let off steam.

She’d risen three feet above the floor and had assumed a kung-fu attack position, raising her leg to one side, as she’d seen Malorane do during
her gran’s Camereye session. But the storeroom wasn’t really suitable for that kind of activity and she sent all the bottles of cleaning products in her way crashing to the ground. Gus burst out laughing.

“Not a very well-controlled attack, if I may say so, Oksa-san! There’s still room for improvement…”

Coming out of their bolt-hole, they were unpleasantly surprised to find themselves face to face with a few of the students from their class, including the dreaded Hilda Richard—Cave-Girl—and her sidekick, Axel Nolan, who seized their opportunity to launch an attack:

“Look who we have here: Miss Super-Smart and Mister Faithful-Little-Doggie-Woggie, hiding behind the dustbins together! Isn’t that a little bit stinky for a romantic chat? What do you think, Axel?” chortled Cave-Girl, suddenly pinning Oksa against the wall. “Huh, not half as stinky as them!” replied Axel with a snigger.

Oksa was seething inside. Grimacing contemptuously, she took a few steps forward to stand right in front of Hilda, as if about to smash her fist in her face. Although she was dying to make arrogant Cave-Girl eat her words, she managed to control herself after a fashion.

“Hey, losers!” said Merlin Poicassé, who’d just witnessed the scene. “Isn’t it time you learnt to read? You probably didn’t see what’s written on the door: it says ‘Cleaning equipment’ not ‘Dustbins’. Although you must be familiar with the dustbin store, because I should think it’s pretty much a home from home, isn’t it?”

“Shut your face! Stop acting like you’re top of the class!”

“He isn’t acting,” retorted Oksa. “He
is
top of the class.”

“Drop it, Oksa,” said Merlin, embarrassed.

The two girls looked him up and down scornfully and walked off, laughing like hyenas.

“Great. Now everyone will know where we were in a matter of minutes,” muttered Oksa, her fists clenched.

Beetroot-red, Gus looked at her in embarrassment.

“That’s for sure, with those two,” said Merlin wryly. “You can count on them to spread the news all over the school. But what on earth possessed you to hide away in that storeroom?”

“We needed to talk,” replied Oksa defensively. “The Den was taken.”

“Yes, that’s the problem with good hideouts! Er… I don’t mean to pry but… what was so important that you had to hide in there to discuss it?”

Disconcerted, Oksa turned to Gus for support. But he was busy studying the granite floor and couldn’t tear his eyes away from the stone slabs.

“Um, just family stuff, that’s all…”

“It must have been pretty intense—you were in there for ages,” insisted Merlin.

“It’s complicated,” answered Oksa. “We should probably make a move, shouldn’t we?”

“I’m just popping to my locker. I’ll be back in a minute. Will you wait for me?” he asked, hurrying off.

Gus finally looked up from the floor.

“Thanks a million for helping me out of that tight spot!” Oksa said venomously. “You were a great help.”

“You managed fine on your own!” retorted Gus, smiling.

Oksa growled, baring her teeth at him, before smiling back.

“Anyway, I think we’ve just seen two fine specimens of Felons, don’t you agree?”

“You mean the hyena and the vulture?” he asked.

“Too right! Hey, that would make a cool book title,
The Hyena and the Vulture
:
A Heroic Adventure
by Gracious Oksa and Daring Gus. Not bad, is it?”

Having made up, they quietly resumed their chat about the secrets revealed in the storeroom for a little longer. Gus listened closely to everything that Oksa had to say, simmering with excitement. Then the bell rang and they went back to their classroom with Merlin, feeling even closer to each other than before because of the secret that Gus swore to keep at all costs.

“Will you give it a rest! I’m not crazy. Anyway, if I did tell anyone they’d think I was insane. They’d put me in a straitjacket and lock me up in an asylum.”

The two classmates found it hard to concentrate during the afternoon. They only listened to their lessons with half an ear, but fortunately no one noticed. Overcome by all these mixed emotions, Oksa felt agitated and, ignoring the warnings of her conscience, she couldn’t help practising Magnetus on her books a few times, an activity which she could now perform unobtrusively.

“Stop sniggering, you’ll get us noticed,” she muttered to her friend.

“What? You’ve got a cheek! I’m the one who’s going to get us noticed?” hissed Gus indignantly in an undertone, trying hard not to laugh. “What a nerve!”

As soon as she walked through the door, Oksa sensed that something strange was going on in the house. She could hear the sound of the TV and her father and Dragomira’s low voices. Silently she put her bag down and took off her shoes, then positioned herself by the half-open glazed door to the living room.

“Pavel!” shouted Dragomira as the signature tune of the BBC news rang out. “Come on, it’s about to start.”

The voice on the TV suddenly stopped and there was silence. Oksa’s heart was beating fit to burst. She tried as best she could to hold her breath and almost suffocated. When Dragomira began speaking, she finally allowed herself to breathe again.

“My God!” Baba Pollock struggled to say, sounding choked. “Peter Carter murdered! In London! It can’t be true—”

“What on earth can have happened?” asked Pavel.

“I have no idea… Pavel, my dear Pavel, I’m very much afraid it might have been one of us.”

“What do you mean?” he asked coldly.

“I know you’ll find it hard to accept, but did you see how Carter died?”

“He was hit by a Pulmonis,” he replied gravely.

“Yes. Which means it must have been one of us who did it!”

“I know, Mum,” replied Pavel slowly, sounding resigned. “I’m sorry that he’s dead but Carter caused us a great many problems and he was liable to go on doing so since he was in London. Although it’s a terrible thing to admit, the man or woman who did this saved us from great danger.”

Oksa’s blood ran cold with horror. Her family was behind a man’s murder! But
why
? She leant against the wall, her back perspiring and her heart racing. She recalled one of the violent images from the Camereye: Malorane dispatching a terrible substance which had dissolved the lungs of one of the Felons. Peter Carter had died in exactly the same way! This was a nightmare. She was going to wake up. She had to wake up. But instead, she remained rooted to the spot outside the living room, wide awake and more than anything horrified by what she was hearing. Her body still pressed against the wall, she inched back very slowly to the staircase and crept silently upstairs to her room where she threw herself onto her bed, her mind seething. Dragomira had actually said: “It must have been one of us who did it.” But why had her family killed that journalist? It was awful.