The Forest of Lost Souls (32 page)

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Authors: Anne Plichota

BOOK: The Forest of Lost Souls
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L
YING ON HER BED WITH HER ARMS BEHIND HER HEAD
, Oksa was thinking back over everything that had happened in the past few hours when she heard three light taps on her door.

“Yes?” she murmured, without moving an inch, lost in thought.

“Can I come in?”

Hearing Tugdual’s voice, she sat up.

“Er… sure.”

Tugdual didn’t bother to open the door—he just walked through it.

“That’s one way to make an entrance,” she remarked, going over to perch on her windowsill. Tugdual slid down the wall to a sitting position and fixed her with his steel-blue eyes. Unsettled by his gaze as usual, she looked away as a wave of embarrassment washed over her.

“Glad you liked it!” said Tugdual. “I can’t do it every time, but you can usually get what you want if you believe in yourself.”

Oksa sighed, exasperated as much by his oblique remarks as by the effect they had on her.

“Anyway, how are you, Lil’ Gracious?”

“Surviving…” she muttered.

“That was some first day back at school!”

“Well, I’m an expert at starting a new term with a bang,” she remarked, remembering her dreadful first day at school the previous year, when she’d crossed swords with McGraw for the first time.

“Anyway, you came through with flying colours, so well done.”

“Yes… except that I really thought I was dying when McGraw touched me,” she admitted, pulling a face.

Tugdual looked at her even more intently.

“What did it feel like?” he asked, getting up from the wall and coming to stand a couple of inches from her.

Oksa swallowed hard, suddenly short of breath. She closed her eyes and tried to get a grip on her emotions. Why did she feel so stupid when Tugdual spoke to her? Was it some kind of curse?

“It felt like I was dead,” she said, kicking herself.

“Is that all?”

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure, and forced herself to meet his eyes.

“You’re fascinated by anything to do with death, aren’t you?” she surprised herself by asking.

Tugdual studied her seriously for a long time, his head on one side, then an unsettling cold gleam appeared in his eyes.

“Yes!” he admitted warmly. “I’m fascinated by all types of power, and death is one of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“The power of life and death is stronger than anything, isn’t it?”

Oksa thought hard for a second, giving their conversation her full attention.

“You’re right…” she admitted.

“That’s the game you and Orthon were playing.”

“It didn’t feel like a game to me!”

“Everything’s a game, Lil’ Gracious. Life is Russian roulette, a lottery, a toss of the coin. And fate is the puppet master, the one calling the shots. Fate puts weapons in our hands and then pulls the strings. Ultimately, though, it still decides how things will turn out. It’s just that we aren’t ordinary puppets.”

“Why not?” retorted Oksa.

“Simply because no one else on this planet has a greater power of life and death. And you, Lil’ Gracious, have even more power than that!”

“Thanks… That’s just brilliant,” she said, pulling a face.

“You have even more power because the future of the whole world depends on you.”

“That’s where it starts to get confusing…”

“You’ll soon understand what’s at stake and the part everyone has to play,” said Tugdual as enigmatically as ever. “But you still haven’t answered my question. What did it feel like when Orthon touched you?”

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“I never let things go…”

Oksa gnawed at her lower lip. Once again, she’d just given Tugdual an inch and, of course, he’d flashed one of his irresistible smiles and taken a mile.

“Well?”

“Well, if you must know, it felt like the kiss of death. As soon as I touched Orthon, I felt as though I’d fallen into a freezing lake… I’ve never actually fallen into a freezing lake, but I imagine that’s exactly how you’d feel: you’re surrounded by ice, you can’t move and you can’t feel anything any more, no more pain, sadness or fear.”

“No fear?”

“No, it was weird. I knew I ought to be afraid, but I wasn’t! It was as if I’d been turned into a statue or a robot. It’s only now I feel shaken up…”

She broke off, a lump in her throat.

“About that and about everything else…” she struggled to say in a choked voice.

Turning away, she closed her eyes to hold back more tears. When Tugdual gently ran his finger down her cheek, she didn’t push him away. His soft caress felt so comforting.

“Don’t ever forget you’re stronger than all of us,” Tugdual murmured.

Oksa felt a mix of emotions—dark despair when she thought about Leomido, her mother and the fate of the Runaways, and exhilaration,
which was like hundreds of little bubbles of warmth fizzing inside her, when Tugdual caressed her. Experiencing these two contrasting emotions simultaneously was strange and unsettling, yet intensely pleasurable. Keeping her eyes closed, Oksa took Tugdual’s hand and entwined her fingers with his.

“Lil’ Gracious…” whispered Tugdual, resting his cheek against hers.

He coaxed her to lay her head on his shoulder with his other hand and stroked her hair. Oksa buried her face in the crook of Tugdual’s shoulder and gave a muffled sob. She nestled against him, shaking but unable to pull away. Tugdual tightened his arms around her and buried his face in her dishevelled hair.

“Oksa! You’ve got to come and see this! Ooops! Sorry—”

Gus skidded to a halt, shocked at the sight of Oksa in Tugdual’s arms. He stood rooted to the spot with his hand on the door handle.

“Don’t you ever knock?” yelled Oksa, her face crimson.

“Sorry… sorry,” he muttered, his lips trembling. “I’m really sorry.”

“Go away!”

Oksa’s violent reaction cut Gus to the quick and made tears spring to his eyes. Mortified, Oksa stared wide-eyed at her friend, whom she’d hurt so unfairly. Trembling with anger and shame, she tried to pull away from Tugdual, but he just tightened his embrace. Her last ounce of strength drained away and, giving an angry groan, she buried her face in Tugdual’s neck as if trying to disappear. She heard the door slam and Gus’s footsteps disappearing down the hall.

“What have I done?” she murmured.

Tugdual didn’t say a word. He just took her face in his hands and tilted it up. There was a strange smile on his face, as if he was amused. Oksa felt completely lost and closed her eyes. She didn’t have to wait long—a few seconds later, Tugdual’s lips came down on hers, throwing her into
a state of complete confusion.

O
KSA
STOOD ON THE FIRST-FLOOR LANDING, LISTENING
to the sound of voices from the living room. If she heard Gus's voice, she wouldn't go downstairs. Oksa couldn't believe how hurtful she'd been. She'd wanted so badly to be alone with Tugdual… but that was no reason to speak to Gus like that. She'd apologize. Gus would understand. She had to stop feeling so ashamed, though. She really hadn't done anything wrong.

Mustering her courage, she ran downstairs and walked unnoticed into the living room where everyone was staring at the apocalyptic images being shown on the TV. The presenter was gravely explaining that the storm had hit southern France with tremendous force. Lightning had struck in so many places that all measuring devices had exploded. The devastated Côte d'Azur was unrecognizable, the death toll was in the hundreds and it would take years to repair the damage. Oksa silently walked closer to the television, shocked by what she was seeing. Pavel immediately turned round, as did Dragomira, Abakum, Reminiscens, Zoe, the Knuts and the Bellangers—everyone, that is, except Gus, who kept staring fiercely at the screen. Oksa looked back and forth between the TV and the Runaways, but their eyes gave nothing away. Why were they staring at her like that?

“What?” she demanded with a helpless shrug. “I haven't a clue what's going on!”

“As usual,” muttered Gus.

“What's happened?” asked Oksa.

Abakum stood up and turned off the TV. A heavy silence descended on the room.

“Things are speeding up…” he said seriously.

“What do you mean?” asked Oksa.

Abakum slumped into an armchair and stroked his short beard, looking worried.

“The Outsiders haven't been taking care of the earth properly for several decades now, even though it's their most valuable possession,” he continued. “The damage, although bad, is not irreversible. However, the cause of all these anomalies over these past few months—all these volcanoes, storms and earthquakes—goes much deeper than man's irresponsible behaviour.”

The old man frowned anxiously.

“Abakum?” asked Oksa impatiently.

“All this upheaval is coming from the inside, my dear.”

“I don't understand…” confessed Oksa, after a few seconds' confusion.

“The upheaval is coming from the World's Heart,” said Abakum sadly.

“The World's Heart?”

“The World's Heart… is our world, Oksa. Edefia.”

The Runaways looked down and Oksa felt an icy chill spread through her bones. Abakum's reply had answered all her doubts. Edefia was the World's Heart. Their two worlds were indivisible and interdependent.

“It suggests that Edefia is in a really bad way,” explained Abakum miserably. “It might even be dying… and all these natural disasters are being caused by the death throes of our lost land. Lunatrix, can you tell us anything more about it?”

The Lunatrix came over looking despondent. He stood in front of Oksa and fixed her with large, bulging eyes full of emotion.

“Two people have the capacity to cause an interruption in the process.”

“Two?”

“The Young Gracious and the Old Gracious will have to perform the mixing of their powers. The disorder will encounter a halt if they both apply obedience to the instructions.”

“What instructions?” said Oksa, not attempting to hide her agitation.

The Lunatrix looked at her.

“Obedience must be absolute.”

“Obedience to what?”

“The Ageless Ones will make the gift of instructions and no one will have the power to make a diversion. Edefia and the Inside are
experiencing
the final wait: the Return has never encountered such proximity.”

“The Return…”

“The Return, yes, my Young Gracious.”

Oksa was finding it hard to catch her breath. The Lunatrix turned slowly and sadly walked back into the kitchen.

The adults had gone up to Dragomira's private workroom for a summit meeting, leaving the four teenagers reeling at the Lunatrix's revelations. Gus hadn't moved since Oksa had come into the living room, which only increased the girl's embarrassment. There was a horrible silence, which Tugdual was the first to break, making everyone jump.

“We'd better start packing,” he said sarcastically.

“Very funny,” muttered Gus, getting up to leave the room.

“It wasn't meant to be,” retorted Tugdual, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. “But take it like that if you want to. There's no way you can appreciate what's at stake here, after all.”

Gus stopped dead, his face frozen in an expression of sheer disgust. Oksa reacted before he could:

“That's out of order!” she told Tugdual, sounding shocked.

“Why?” he retorted defiantly. “I'm not saying anything that isn't true: our friend Gus can't possibly grasp the full extent of what's coming.”

“Stop it!” beseeched Oksa with tears in her eyes.

“I don't need you to defend me!” yelled Gus. “Why don't you just go and save the world with your superhero and forget all about me?”

Gus's words were like a slap in the face for Oksa. He stalked out of the room past her, his face white. She wanted to hold him back, but her courage failed her when she met his eyes: there was no anger or humiliation in them, just a deep sadness. Gus was about to stop, but Oksa's anguished expression only made him feel worse. All she felt for him was pity—it was sickening. He stomped out into the hallway and angrily kicked the wall, frustrated that he couldn't leave the house like any other fourteen-year-old boy. He knew the Runaways had good reasons for forbidding the teenagers to go out alone in London, but it was more than he could bear: he had to get out of the house. He wrenched open the front door and ran out, slamming it behind him.

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