The Forest of Lost Souls (28 page)

D
RAGOMIRA STOOD ROOTED TO THE SPOT, WATCHING
her granddaughter rush upstairs. Naftali and Brune, who were just as devastated as their friend, didn’t move either, while Jeanne burst into tears. Gus gazed at her in bewilderment.

“Is there a problem with Marie?” he asked softly.

Jeanne couldn’t reply. She just looked at him in despair, her large eyes brimming with tears. Although no one had said very much, the intensity of this short exchange hadn’t escaped Pavel, who went white. He turned to Dragomira and, leaning against the wall for support, asked tentatively:

“Marie isn’t here, is she? Is she in the hospital?”

Baba Pollock slumped into an armchair, her hand pressed over her heart.

“No…” she managed to whisper. Pavel went even whiter.

“Is she?…”

He couldn’t get the fatal word out—it was trapped in his throat, suffocating him. Just then Oksa burst into the living room, wild-eyed with fear.

“Where’s Mum?” she shouted, shaking. “Baba? Where’s Mum?”

Dragomira closed her eyes to block out her son’s and granddaughter’s anguish. Contrary to all expectations, it was Zoe who spoke.

“It’s not what you think,” she said gently, going over to Pavel and Oksa. “Marie isn’t dead. She’s being well treated, and they’re taking good care
of her, so don’t worry.”

Hearing this, Pavel felt dizzy with relief, while Oksa yelled:

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Mustering all her courage, Dragomira replied in a rush:

“The Felons. Marie was abducted by the Felons.”

The Disimpictured Runaways were all appalled, but Oksa’s reaction was the most violent. After a few seconds of horrified silence, she
collapsed
onto the floor, screaming and crying. Immediately Zoe, Tugdual and Gus rushed over, hoping their affection would be some comfort, even though they knew she was inconsolable.

“Mum!” thundered Pavel angrily. “How could you let this happen?”

Dragomira gazed at him helplessly, unable to defend herself. The Lunatrix came over, his face puffy from crying.

“The Runaways have encountered great losses,” he announced to Pavel. “Their hearts endure deep suffering. That notwithstanding, it is the duty and necessity of your heart to be valiant: the wife of the son of the Old Gracious and the mother of the Young Gracious is possessed of failing health, but treatment of her is kind. The Tumble-Bawler made confirmation of this fact in its report. Annikki, the granddaughter of Agafon the Felon, has mastery of the art of medicinal care and you can maintain hopefulness: the Felons have the understanding that their prisoner possesses great value. There is no risk that they will bring harm to her life. Your domestic staff will therefore offer the gift of advice: the drying of tears must be undertaken, because courage and strength are essential for the rescue of the captive of the Felons. Most important, do not generate an increase in your pain with the burdening of reproaches: the Old Gracious made the display of abundant resistance to the Felons. Her life ran the risk of being stolen! But her powers experienced a lack of impact, and the Felons made a show of cunning and cruelty. You must receive the knowledge that the fight was afflicted by inequality of strength. The fortunes of the Old Gracious endured weakness despite the sturdiness of her will.”

On hearing the Lunatrix’s explanations, the angry incomprehension in Pavel’s eyes softened to a heart-rending look of anguish. Dragomira struggled to her feet and held out her hands to Pavel with a pleading expression. Pavel hesitated, then turned and put his arms around Oksa.

“The Lunatrix is right,” said Naftali. “The Felons won’t take any risks with Marie—she’s much too valuable. I certainly wouldn’t go so far as to say she’s in good hands, but I do think that the Felons are taking care of her.”

“This should never have happened!” accused Pavel, glaring at his mother. “I should never have trusted you!”

“Pavel…” groaned Dragomira.

“Stop it, Pavel!” said Abakum harshly. “Dragomira did her best to prevent this tragedy, as you can well imagine.”

“Maybe she should have kept out of it, if this is how things turned out!” snarled Pavel.

“Stop arguing! We have to find Mum!” sobbed Oksa suddenly. “That’s more important than anything!”

The Runaways looked at each other in an icy silence broken only by the sound of the Young Gracious crying.

“We have some first-class information about the place where Marie is being held,” declared Naftali. “And don’t forget that the Tumble-Bawler is an invaluable spy.”

“At your command, friend of the Old Gracious!” declared Dragomira’s little informant.

“As soon as you’ve all regained your strength, we’ll set off for the Sea of the Hebrides,” recommended Naftali. “I’m already working on a couple of plans—”

“You must redouble your vigilance,” broke in the Lunatrix, “because your losses have already experienced heaviness. Take care not to descend into forgetfulness: the half of your domestic staff and the sibling of the Old Gracious abandoned their existence in the picture.”

The Lunatrix’s words were choked off by a sob, while the Runaways
blanched, suddenly realizing that one of their number was conspicuous by his absence.

“Leomido? Where’s Leomido?” asked Oksa frantically.

Until that second, Dragomira had been clinging to the faint hope of seeing her brother again. The Lunatrix might have been wrong… but now, her world was falling to pieces. The Lunatrix hadn’t got it wrong. He was never wrong.

“Where’s Leomido?” repeated Oksa.

“Leomido isn’t coming back,” announced Dragomira, her voice breaking.

“That can’t be so!” groaned Reminiscens, hugging Zoe tightly.

Exhaustion and grief began to take their toll on the Runaways as they tried to come to terms with this terrible news. A devastated Abakum was in the process of walking over to Dragomira, who looked as if she might faint, when there was a deafening crash. The living room was lit by a powerful flash which illuminated their miserable faces. The air was wreathed in a strange light sparkling with gold dust and a hypnotic voice filled the room.

“The Ageless Ones…” murmured Oksa.

A dark form materialized and emerged from the halo of light. Spreading its large wings, it circled the living room and landed at Oksa’s feet.

“Young Gracious, Runaways, creatures from the Inside, please accept my compliments and the everlasting gratitude of the picture’s occupants,” said the black crow.

The words evaporated from its beak in the usual black plumes of steam, which rose majestically towards the ceiling.

“Where’s Leomido?” asked Oksa for the third time.

“The Werewall of Gracious Blood, son of Malorane and Waldo, brother of the Old Gracious Dragomira, half-brother of the Felon Orthon and Reminiscens has passed away,” announced the crow gravely.

A ripple of shock ran through the room. The Runaways stared at each other in complete incomprehension, then turned to look at Dragomira
and Reminiscens, who were wide-eyed with horror.

“W
HAT DO YOU MEAN?” STUTTERED
O
KSA.
“A
RE YOU
crazy? Have you gone as mad as the Soul-Searcher?”

Bending down, she tried to catch the crow, but it was as ethereal as a ghost. When the Young Gracious touched it, the bird disintegrated into a cloud of dark steam before re-forming a few seconds later.

“You may not be ready to accept it in your heart of hearts, but
everything
I’ve said is true,” the crow declared.

With this, it took to the air and flew towards the half-open window.

“You can’t leave us like this!” cried Oksa.

“The Ageless Ones will tell you everything,” said the crow. “Farewell!”

Oksa gave a cry of anger and frustration. She looked around for her father and saw that he was sitting miserably on the floor with his head in his hands. Reminiscens seemed to be rooted to the spot with her hand over her mouth, as if she wanted to stop herself screaming. Zoe was standing next to her with the blank expression of someone in total shock. The golden halo of light crackled and intensified in the centre of the room, then they heard a pure, grave voice saying:

“We pay homage to the Young Gracious and our compliments to the Runaways, including the one who lost his life inside the picture. Accept his choice and do not hope for his return.”

“His choice?” cried Oksa angrily. “It’s hardly a choice when you sacrifice yourself!”

“Leomido did not sacrifice himself,” corrected the Ageless Ones,
heightening
the Runaways’ confusion. “He could have been Disimpictured at the same time as you, but he chose not to be.”

Reminiscens and Dragomira groaned in anguish.

“What’s all this about a Werewall of Gracious Blood and the
half-brother
of Orthon and Reminiscens?” said Zoe tonelessly.

The Ageless Ones didn’t reply immediately. The golden halo grew dimmer and darker then, with a crackle, it filled the room with dazzling radiance. The voice was heard again:

“The father of Orthon and Reminiscens, Ocious, was a close friend of the Gracious’s family and the children of both families were virtually raised together. However, when the friendship shared by Reminiscens and Leomido slowly turned to deep love, everything deteriorated. Gracious Malorane and Ocious did their best to keep the young lovers apart, but to no avail. Ocious was becoming ever more ambitious so he came up with the wicked plan to manipulate Orthon by telling him a secret that was bound to cause resentment. Malorane, who had no idea that this revelation would result in the Great Chaos, was forced to confirm what Ocious had told Orthon about his birth. She loved him and his twin sister, Reminiscens, with the love that only a mother has for her children.”

“No!” gasped Reminiscens, looking horrified at this revelation.

“No one else had any inkling,” continued the Ageless Ones. “The twins had been born in the greatest secrecy after the affair Malorane had, when very young, with Ocious. She then married Waldo and, two years later, Leomido was born. The twins, Orthon and Reminiscens, had been taken in by Ocious and his wife, who was unable to have children.”

“Goodness…” whispered Oksa. “Then, if I understand this correctly, my gran, Dragomira, Leomido, Orthon and Reminiscens are all brothers and sisters!”

The golden halo trembled and crackled.

“Half-brothers and half-sisters, to be precise,” said the Ageless Ones. “But that doesn’t matter… they are related to each other. When Orthon
heard this from his real mother, Malorane, his behaviour changed. He’d always lived in the shadow of his father, Ocious, who never missed an opportunity to run him down, often in favour of Leomido. Orthon was not strong enough to cope with the demands made by an ambitious father like Ocious. His unhappiness worsened the grudge he bore towards Malorane: the fact that his biological mother had refused to acknowledge him meant, to his mind, that she didn’t consider him worthy of being a Gracious’s son… Leomido was deserving of recognition, but not him. This belief turned him into a cold, hard-hearted man. There are some truths which can break men. Or make them unbreakable… Fuelled by resentment, Orthon’s hurt pride grew into an insatiable lust for revenge. He started by conspiring in the Beloved Detachment of his sister, Reminiscens, just to show his father he could be equally uncaring, and to torment Leomido.”

“Did Leomido know the secret?” broke in Zoe breathlessly.

“Orthon took it upon himself to tell him, just after Reminiscens was subjected to Beloved Detachment,” replied the Ageless Ones. “It was a terrible shock for your grandfather—it almost drove him insane.”

The magical golden light grew stronger and floated nearer to Reminiscens, who was grief-stricken.

“Leomido was not avoiding you because you had been subjected to Beloved Detachment,” said the Ageless Ones. “He was avoiding you because he now knew you were related by blood. He had been devastated by the discovery. All the more because Malorane was unaware of one small detail which made her silence unforgivable in his eyes: you were expecting a child.”

The golden halo returned to the centre of the room.

“Leomido felt as if the ground had opened and swallowed him up. Reminiscens, his half-sister, was pregnant by him. That would be enough to crush even the strongest and most stable of men: the same blood flowed through their veins! This was a terrible predicament for an ethical and honest young man and he began to thirst for revenge. When
Orthon sought him out to persuade him to help the Secret Society of the Werewalls to cross over to the Outside, he rallied to their cause. The ceremony took place a few days later: the two feuding brothers put aside their differences to become Werewalls of Gracious Blood for ever. Supporting the same cause was just the first step for Leomido and Orthon. Their grievances were different, but they both wanted revenge on Malorane. This would allow Leomido to leave Edefia and Orthon to earn his father’s respect. Their wishes were granted quicker than expected. Orthon suggested that his brother enter the Memorary and steal the Gracious’s Elzevir, which contained information about the Secret-Never-To-Be-Told, and things moved very fast after that. The Great Chaos plunged the people of Edefia into darkness, while the two brothers were ejected into the Outside. The only person who’d always suspected that Leomido’s betrayal might be at the root of the Chaos was the Fairyman.”

They all turned to look at Abakum, who was staring fixedly at the wall in front of him.

“Leomido lived in relative peace for fifty-seven years. He’d resigned himself to never seeing Reminiscens again. You all know what
happened
next: Reminiscens was Impictured by her brother, which allowed Leomido to be reunited with the woman he’d never really stopped loving. But what you don’t know is how apprehensive he was at the prospect of seeing her again. They hadn’t spoken since he’d found out the true nature of their relationship and he was beside himself with worry. Had Reminiscens been told? If she knew the secret, how would she react when she saw him? Would she reject him? He couldn’t bear the thought of that… Or would she be as indifferent to him as the last time his eyes had met hers in the corridors of the Glass Column? The memory of that day was like a dagger thrust to his heart and he knew that her
indifference
would be as hard to bear as disgust. Memories flooded back, reawakening his shame at his betrayal. Soon all would be revealed. His beloved sister, Dragomira, would know that he’d sacrificed his family
to take revenge on Malorane and to escape Edefia. Even before he was Impictured, he’d made his decision: he would enter the picture and see Reminiscens once more. Then he’d let the picture have him, so he wouldn’t have to face either the woman he loved or his sister after they knew the shameful truth.”

The Ageless Ones’ golden halo faded and the voice fell silent, leaving the Runaways struggling to take in this extraordinary story.

“What about my gran?” asked Zoe miserably. “Did she know?”

“I didn’t know anything about this,” replied Reminiscens flatly. “Until today.”

“What about you, Baba? Did you know?” asked Oksa, turning to Dragomira, who’d kept her eyes closed throughout the Ageless Ones’ story.

“I found out quite recently,” confessed Baba Pollock. “Orthon told me everything the day I went to meet him at his house.”

“Now I understand!” exclaimed Oksa. “You couldn’t fire the Crucimaphila at him because you knew he was your half-brother!”

“That’s right…” murmured Dragomira. “I just couldn’t do it.”

“Do not forget that Orthon is a Werewall of Gracious Blood,” reminded the Ageless Ones.

“Was,” corrected Oksa.

“You’re mistaken,” insisted the Ageless Ones. “The Crucimaphila is very powerful, but it cannot be fatal for someone with the combined power of the Werewalls and the Graciouses.”

“What do you mean?” asked Oksa.

The answer to this terrifying question was hardly unexpected in view of the Ageless Ones’ words.

“You have understood correctly,” rang out the voice in the gloomy silence. “Orthon is not dead.”