The Forest of Lost Souls (26 page)

T
HE
R
UNAWAYS’ FIRST IDEA WAS TO CLIMB THE TREES
to reach the flashing rectangle, but Gus soon talked them out of it.

“It won’t work.”

“Why?” asked Oksa, who’d already begun climbing. “These trees are easily tall enough to reach it.”

“Why won’t you believe me for once?” snapped Gus. “I’ve already tried. You think you’re climbing but you actually stay at ground level.”

“He’s right,” confirmed the butterfly. “It’s one manifestation of the hallucinogenic power of the Imagicon, which also brought you back to your starting point. Although you might have thought you were following a straight, horizontal path, you were actually moving in a vertical spiral. In the same way, although you think you’re climbing these trees, you’re really not getting anywhere fast.”

“That’s so weird,” exclaimed Oksa, after giving it a try. “What are we going to do then?”

“I have an idea…” said Gus.

He strode into the dark forest and began poking around at the foot of the trees. Suddenly, the tiny heads with root bodies emerged from the ground, chattering shrilly.

“You found each other!” one said, inspecting the Runaways. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” said Oksa.

“Have you crossed paths with the Wickedesses yet?”

“No, not yet,” replied Gus. “Just their minions, the Airborne Sirens and the Leozards.”

“And you managed to escape, did you? Congratulations again!”

“Sadly, not all of us did,” murmured Oksa, seeing the Lunatrixa’s plump face in her mind’s eye. “But we definitely have a bone to pick with those Wickedesses. Can you help us?”

“Of course. What do you want us to do?” asked the little head, its dark eyes gleaming with impatience.

“We have to get up to that flashing rectangle, right up there…”

“You mean the trapdoor? The passage to the Stonewall?”

“WHAT?” cried Gus angrily. “You let us face all those dangers when you knew all along that the way out was up there?”

“You can only get to it once you’ve passed through all the levels,” replied the head with the root body. “Don’t forget that the purpose of Impicturement is to put individuals to the test…” After a short silence, Oksa turned again to the head-root.

“Well… We have a problem. We can’t Vertifly or climb the trees and Dad’s Ink Dragon appears to be dormant at the moment.”

“I see what you’re getting at, Young Gracious, and it’ll be an honour to assist you,” responded the half-human, half-plant creature immediately. “Reveal yourselves, my friends! We’re going to help the Runaways!”

Forty or so heads with root bodies popped out of the ground,
chirruping
with excitement, and gathered in small groups of five or six around each Runaway. Opening their mouths, they took firm hold of everyone’s tattered clothes with their teeth and, with supernatural strength, stretched up and up into the mauve sky until they could deposit their cargo on the trapdoor.

“Wow!” exclaimed Oksa. “That was amazing!”

“Sickeningly easy, you mean,” remarked Gus.

“So this is the passage that leads to the Soul-Searcher,” murmured Abakum, looking at the trapdoor.

“And the Wickedesses…” added Tugdual, feeling around the edge to locate the opening.

“Trust you to add something depressing!” grumbled Gus.

“Ah! There we are, it’s open,” said Abakum, crouching down. “We’re on our way to meet our tormentors at last.”

One by one, the Runaways dropped down into the dark shaft, which had the slimy walls and stale, foul-smelling air of a sewer. After sliding down the stone conduit, they landed in a room so low and narrow that they completely filled the cramped space. Above them, the shaft mouth closed and merged with the ceiling.

“We can only go in one direction,” said the Tumble-Bawler, popping its head out of Oksa’s bag.

“Which is?” enquired Leomido, before being swallowed up by the ground.

“Leomido!” cried the terrified Runaways.

“Stand in the middle of the room,” advised the Tumble. “The passage is below.”

They obeyed without delay, Oksa first. As soon as she stood where Leomido had disappeared, she suddenly felt herself being sucked down, as if someone had grabbed her ankles to pull her into the chilly depths. Despite her relief at being reunited with Leomido, this place gave her the creeps—it was scarier than anywhere she’d ever been: worse even than the Airborne Sirens’ tunnel. The walls, which were poorly lit by torches, oozed a repulsive greenish substance whose origin didn’t bear thinking about. Something dripped on her head, making her cry out in disgust. The other Runaways dropping down from the ceiling one by one felt just as intimidated as Oksa by these murky surroundings.

“Next, you have to go down there,” said the Tumble-Bawler, pointing to a flight of steps in the ground.

“With pleasure!” exclaimed Oksa, who couldn’t wait to get out of this gloomy passage.

The staircase felt endless. Fortunately, although the steps were high and narrow at first, they soon widened out and became easier to navigate as they descended in a spiral. The Runaways felt increasingly anxious. This level was supposed to be the way out and yet they felt as though they were descending into hostile depths where they’d be buried alive.

“This is horrible…” muttered Gus.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” said Oksa comfortingly, although she didn’t sound convinced by her own words. “How many more steps, Tumble?”

The little scout emerged from the bag and disappeared into the depths. A few long minutes passed before the results of its calculations rang out.

“You’ve walked down 2,549 steps, which means there are 7,451 steps left.”

Oksa whistled.

“You’re saying there are 10,000 steps leading down… to wherever we’re going?”

“That’s right, Young Gracious.”

“10,000 steps?” remarked the Incompetent in amazement. “My calf muscles will be huge!”

“But you don’t have any calves, Incompetent!” laughed Oksa. “Anyway, Pierre is carrying you.”

“Really? I was wondering…”

“Come on, let’s keep moving,” sighed Oksa, gazing at the spiral staircase plunging into the darkness below.

The Runaways were doing their best to ignore the anxiety caused by this descent into the unknown. They had a nasty feeling they were walking into a trap, which strained their nerves to breaking point. It wasn’t long
before they had to take another break. Sitting on the steps, Oksa removed her trainers and inspected them dejectedly.

“It’s about time we got to where we’re going,” she muttered, looking at the holes in her soles.

She pulled off her tattered socks and massaged her blistered feet, trying not to groan at the pain. She was beginning to feel discouraged. How was all this going to end? She didn’t want to think about it, but she could sense death lurking in the shadows, ready to carry off her loved ones when the time was right. She shook her head to banish such awful thoughts and gently stroked the sleek head of the Incompetent. The Squoracle soon joined them, enthusiastically squawking:

“Happy birthday, Young Gracious!”

“What are you going on about?”

“It’s your birthday!”

“That isn’t funny, you know!” retorted Oksa irritably.

“I’m not in the habit of making jokes,” retorted the tiny hen petulantly. “Today is the anniversary of your birth. You’re fourteen.”

The Runaways began doing the maths in their heads. Oksa was amazed.

“That means we’ve been in here for two and a half months…”
stammered
Pavel, thinking about Marie.

“I’m fourteen!” murmured Oksa.

Tugdual came to sit beside her. He leant over and whispered in her ear:

“Happy birthday, Lil’ Gracious…”

His hair caressed her cheek and his lips brushed her neck. She quivered, unsure how to react.

“Anyway,” rang out Gus’s voice, “we’d better get a move on if we want to celebrate this special occasion in style!”

Oksa shot him a grateful look. He smiled sadly at her, which made tears spring to her eyes. Before she could break down completely she jumped up, exclaiming hoarsely:

“And when we’re out of this hellhole, I want the biggest birthday
cake on earth! And I do mean on earth! We’ve spent far too long in here already. Come on—let’s go!”

With a great deal of wincing and grimacing, the Runaways finally stepped off the interminable staircase.

“Phew!” exclaimed Oksa, rubbing her thighs. “I couldn’t have gone down another step.”

“I hope we don’t have to climb back up to get out of here,” remarked Gus.

“Horror of horrors! Don’t even think such a thing!” said Oksa.

“Talking of horrors, I hope we haven’t walked into a trap,” said Tugdual. “Look! The staircase has vanished. We’re well and truly stuck. If we were attacked by anyone or anything, I’m not sure how we’d get away,” he added.

There was a deathly silence as the exhausted Runaways gazed
helplessly
at the immense wall which stretched into the distance as far as the eye could see.

“The Stonewall,” whispered Gus.

A
FTER
T
UGDUAL AND
P
IERRE HAD TRIED IN VAIN TO
climb the wall, which seemed vertically and horizontally endless, the Runaways had to face facts: there was no getting over or around it. Shrouded in a hazy half-light, they began walking along it, feeling the stones in the hope that they might trigger some mechanism which would reveal the way out of this trap.

“You won’t find anything, even if you look for days!” screeched the Squoracle after several hours.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” muttered Oksa, her fingers sore from the sharp stones.

“Huh,” scoffed the tiny hen. “Why don’t you use your memory? Remember what the crow told the boy.”

They all turned to look at Gus, who blushed with embarrassment. Pierre walked over to his son and looked at him confidently. Gus cleared his throat, frightened he might not remember the crow’s message. Tiredness, worry and pressure made it hard to concentrate. The Runaways were depending on him, but everything was jumbled up in his head. Oksa empathized with her friend’s panic.

“Come on, Gus,” she said. “Think! What exactly did the crow say about this lousy wall?”

She put her hands on the boy’s shoulders and looked at him hopefully. Encouraged by her support, Gus tried harder. A few seconds later, he triumphantly recited:

The Runaways stared at each other in amazement.

“Of course!” exclaimed Oksa, smacking her forehead with the flat of her hand. “The wall opens from the inside!”

“Oh great,” said Gus, following his friend’s line of reasoning.

“I’m confused…” admitted Reminiscens.

“The door must be inside the wall, I’d stake my life on it!” cried Oksa. “Which means that only a Werewall can pass through the wall and find the way out.”

“I’ll go!” exclaimed Tugdual.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, his body pressed flat against the wall. The veins in his neck turned blue with the effort of pushing against the stone. He pressed even harder with a groan of annoyance, but the wall didn’t give.

“Some Werewall,” remarked Gus sarcastically.

“I’ve already told you I’m still learning!” retorted Tugdual with barely suppressed anger.

“Perhaps I can help?” suggested Reminiscens.

The old lady walked over and passed through the stone with
disconcerting
ease, watched by the dumbfounded Runaways. Then her outstretched arms poked back through the wall, grabbed Tugdual’s shoulders and pulled him through to the other side.

“Wow!” whispered Oksa. “That was something else!”

“Too right!” admitted Gus, fascinated by the miracle which had just taken place before his very eyes. “I’d love to be able to do that.”

But their enthusiasm was soon curbed by frightened screams from the other side of the wall.

“What’s going on?” asked Oksa in alarm, paling.

“I don’t know,” replied Abakum, visibly worried.

Oksa’s anxiety mounted: this was the first time the Fairyman hadn’t been able to answer her questions, which didn’t bode well at all.

“Find the door and let us in!” yelled Pavel, close to the wall, his hands cupped around his mouth.

Oksa and Gus wrung their hands. This harrowing silence was even worse than the screams. Had Reminiscens and Tugdual been attacked by the Wickedesses? Were they still alive? Would the
remaining
Runaways be trapped at the foot of the Wall until they died? Panic began to set in.

“Where’s Leomido?” murmured Abakum. They all looked around in concern.

“The last time I saw him, he was heading that way,” said Pavel, pointing
to the dark path running alongside the wall to their right. “I think he was looking for a way out.”

“But there’s nothing to be gained by that!” said Abakum crossly. “The Squoracle told us so. Anyway, it’s far more sensible to stay together.”

His words were interrupted by a sudden ripple of movement in the wall. Suddenly an opening appeared in the stone, revealing the way out they’d been told was there. Tugdual appeared, followed by Reminiscens and someone completely unexpected.

“Leomido?” chorused Gus and Oksa. The old man looked nervously at them.

“I found an opening in the wall, a little farther along from where we stopped,” he explained flatly.

“But we looked everywhere!” remarked Oksa.

“Obviously not,” retorted Leomido firmly.

“Oh well,” said Abakum frowning, his eyes fixed on his friend. “The main thing is that we’re all together again. But what happened? We heard screams…”

Tugdual came forward and they could see that there was a deep, bloody bite on his handsome face.

“We were attacked by some kind of bats with skull-like heads,” he said groggily.

“Chiropterans!” exclaimed Gus, shivering at the memory of his encounter with those terrifying insects in the Welsh sky.

“I saw them heading straight for Reminiscens like wasps on jam and I tried to chase them away,” continued Tugdual. “Which meant they turned on me. I was attacked by so many that I couldn’t do anything to defend myself. Luckily Leomido arrived on the scene and dispatched them with a barrage of Fireballisticos. I think I may have a few singed hairs, but I escaped in one piece, so thank you, Leomido!”

The old man humbly bowed his head.

“Those creatures are hideous,” remarked Tugdual, turning over his right hand to reveal two deep bites.

“Welcome to the club!” said Gus, delighted at being one jump ahead of his rival for once.

“How do you feel?” asked Abakum worriedly.

“A little woozy…”

“You have a remarkable constitution, lad. There aren’t many people who’d still be on their feet after one bite from a Chiropteran, let alone three. You’d better allow me to give you something to ease the pain though.”

The two of them walked away from the group and sat down beneath a torch. Abakum took a few bottles out of his bag and began smearing various ointments on Tugdual’s injuries. As observant as usual, Oksa noticed how upset and tense Abakum looked, so she eavesdropped on the Fairyman’s conversation with Tugdual.

“So you saw Leomido pass through the wall, did you?” asked Abakum, sounding surprised. “That’s impossible! The Chiropterans must have affected your sight.”

“You have to believe me, Abakum,” said Tugdual, defending himself vehemently. “You know I’m telling the truth. I wasn’t hallucinating: Leomido definitely passed through the wall.”

“How could he have done? He’s not a Werewall!”

“How do you know?” said the young man.

“I can’t believe you…” murmured Abakum, sounding choked.

“You don’t want to believe me!” retorted Tugdual.

Oksa put her hand over her mouth in bewilderment. She looked over at Leomido, who was staring stiffly at his old friend from a distance, and her heart turned over. Her great-uncle looked so miserable… She turned her head to hide her emotion and studied the huge circular room in which the awed Runaways were now standing.