The Heart of Two Worlds (29 page)

T
HE DARK HOURS THAT FOLLOWED THIS VILE ACT WERE
followed by dark days, devoid of light. Oksa didn’t leave her room. She wandered from bed to sofa with vacant eyes, sometimes venturing out onto the balcony. The precious stirrings of hope she’d felt since she’d arrived in Edefia had been snuffed out when the Diaphan had seized Zoe’s innermost emotions. This was one tragedy too many. Her life had been saved by the vile Werewall Elixir which had overcome the poison in her system. She wasn’t going to die, but she no longer felt any enthusiasm for anything. Her head was dull and heavy and her heart was just a muscle beating mechanically without any spark of emotion—it had been damaged by too much suffering.

She’d accidentally made herself feel worse when she’d finally unpacked. Right at the bottom of her backpack, she’d found her uniform tie amongst the sweaters and socks. She didn’t even remember putting it in… and that small strip of fabric took her back in time, exacerbating the pain. She’d hated wearing a tie at first, then she’d got so used to it that she hardly ever took it off. It had gradually come to symbolize her friendship group and had become a link to her friends, St Proximus, happier days, Gus… With a lump in her throat, she’d loosely knotted the tie round her neck, the way she used to wear it, and had thrown herself on her bed in tears.

Concern was growing in the Glass Column. The Runaways had tried everything to rouse the Young Gracious from her worrying condition:
potions, compounds, Capacitors… The creatures wouldn’t leave her side and vied with each other to find inventive ways of amusing her, or at least of making her smile. Despite looking dreadful after her ordeal, Zoe had visited Oksa’s room to reassure her, but couldn’t get her to perk up. Even the Nascentia proved ineffectual. The damage ran deep and all hope was gone.

The Werewalls and Felons were just as worried, because Oksa’s depression had caused serious repercussions: the Cloak Chamber was still shut. Although a few days earlier it had seemed about to open, that now seemed doubtful. The seventh underground level had been plunged again in darkness, as it had been for nearly sixty years. At the same time Edefia was dying, the land was shaken by convulsions and the sky was shrouded in what looked likely to become everlasting night. Those who’d left loved ones on the Outside were finding it harder than the others, imagining the worst and knowing they were probably right. Oksa was aware of all these things. She felt guilty and was trying to snap out of it, but nothing made her feel any better.

“The Young Gracious must not deplete her heart of the hopefulness that makes it beat,” the Lunatrix said one morning, stroking her hand.

Oksa looked at him wordlessly. She could hear and understand, but nothing reached her any more. She felt numb.

“Hope is the salt of life!” exclaimed the Getorix, its hair dishevelled.

“You should never add too much salt,” broke in the Incompetent. “It’s bad for your blood pressure.”

“SHUT UP, INCOMPETENT!” shouted all the creatures together.

“Come on, Oksa, let’s go out for a while, you need some fresh air,” suggested Zoe, pulling her friend by the arm.

Oksa didn’t resist. The penultimate floor of the Column was still under surveillance, but the two girls—like all the Runaways—could now go wherever they wanted, accompanied by a swarm of Vigilians. They descended the Column in the glass lift, since Oksa was too abstracted to Vertifly, and strolled around what remained of the Gracious’s garden:
sandy avenues lined with skeletal trees. Leaning on their balconies or pressed up against their windows, members of every clan watched the two figures walking slowly in the half-light. Although they looked vulnerable, everyone knew that their frail exterior hid great strength, waiting to rise again from its ashes, like the phoenix which had been circling above Thousandeye City for several days. Oksa was the only one who didn’t seem to realize and that was the problem. So, when a golden halo of light appeared in the murky sky, everyone looked more hopeful.

“The Ageless Ones have come looking for you, Oksa,” murmured Zoe, releasing her hand. “They have something to show you…”

O
KSA ALLOWED HERSELF TO BE LIFTED INTO THE AIR
within the halo of light. The Ageless Ones flew over Thousandeye City, then headed north towards the mysterious Isle of the Fairies, then beyond. They flew for over two hours in benevolent silence until they spotted some unusual geometric shapes on the ground. When they drew level with them, the Ageless Ones dived, as if drawn down by the surface of the land, and alighted, taking care not to hurt Oksa. One of the fairies emerged from the halo of light, revealing hazy feminine contours.

“We’re here, Young Gracious,” she chimed melodiously.

“Where’s here?” asked Oksa, looking around.

All she could see was a vast dusty desert and a high wrought-iron gate in an endless stone wall.

“The maze, Young Gracious,” replied the Ageless Ones.

Oksa nodded. She knew all about the maze, which Abakum had described: it was the way to the Singing Spring, the home of impossible memories. The Fairyman had been able to see the day of his conception—which was also the day of his birth—and at last find out where he’d come from and who he really was. But did she really want to remember anything when it was all so painful? She preferred to keep her memories buried—at least, that way they couldn’t hurt her…

“Why is this wall so high when you could Vertifly over it or pass through it?” she asked, to distract herself.

“As you’ve guessed, it’s symbolic,” confirmed the Ageless Fairy. “It’s just for appearances. Not even the strongest Vertiflier or the most talented Werewall could enter the maze without invitation, even if the wall were just a line drawn on the ground.”

“Have I been invited then?”

“You have. I’ll help you find your way to the Spring. Someone’s waiting for you there.”

“Who?” said Oksa.

For the first time in days, something broke open inside her and she felt a surprising surge of animation. Whom did she want to see most? Her mother? Dragomira? Gus? Tugdual? She groaned, shaking her head to stop the tears. The choice was impossible.

“Follow me.”

Although all she could see was a golden shadow, Oksa felt someone take her hand. The gate swung open, revealing an endless labyrinth made up of walls and leafless hedges of different heights and widths. This perplexing maze was so vast that it seemed to cover the rest of the land, like the convoluted folds of a brain.

“What are we waiting for then?” murmured Oksa.

The maze put up no resistance, but it was horribly complicated. Trying to take her bearings was like trying to navigate in the middle of an ocean without instruments. All the walls were built of large irregular stones and looked the same, while drought had turned the hedges into impassable clusters of dead branches, which also looked the same. This was nothing like the beautiful garden mazes in France in which she used to love wandering aimlessly a few years ago. There was so much she didn’t know back then, like who she really was and where her family came
from… Dragomira always reached the centre of the maze first and Oksa used to call her a “witch”, which used to make Baba Pollock smile and for good cause, since it was secretly true… Oksa sighed and turned her attention back to the golden shadow guiding her onwards without the slightest hesitation.

An hour later, the monotonous appearance of the maze gradually changed. The passages widened, the walls weren’t so high and afforded glimpses of the horizon ringed with hills. At the base of one hill a bluish light spilt out. That had to be the Singing Spring. Oksa made her way around the last few obstructions, her heart beating with renewed vigour. When she was just a few yards from the exit, she was confronted by two awe-inspiring creatures with the body of a lion and the head of a woman—the legendary Corpusleoxes! The Ageless Fairy led her forward, giving her no choice but to approach. Sitting on hind legs with their forelegs stretched out in front, the magnificent yet terrifying Corpusleoxes were about six feet tall. Suddenly they roared, tossing back thick manes of feminine hair. Oksa took a step back in fear, but the Ageless Fairy wouldn’t let her retreat. One of the Corpusleoxes raised its leg in her direction and Oksa screamed at the sight of its long, sharp claws. The creature was going to tear her limb from limb! Or dislocate her shoulder at the very least… The leg came down and Oksa closed her eyes.

“We’ve been waiting for you for an eternity,” boomed the other Corpusleox.

Both creatures roared again. Oksa opened her eyes, realizing that they hadn’t meant to frighten her, but to greet her. The two creatures bent even lower, their heads bowed in respect.

“Enter, someone wishes to talk to you.”

Feeling a mixture of impatience and fear, Oksa stepped forward and, passing between the Corpusleoxes, found herself in the cave that Abakum
had described. The Singing Spring made the air pleasantly damp, and the pinkish waters cast shifting glints on the lapis lazuli walls. It really was a magical place. Abakum had been right, it was like being at the heart of an enormous gem. The peace and quiet immediately made Oksa feel better. She sat down cross-legged beside the Spring, tempted to drink its effervescent waters, and waited. Who wanted to talk to her?

“Is anyone there?” she called.

Her voice bounced off the blue stones, producing an echo which surprised her. Suddenly an opalescent figure appeared, walking across the surface of the water in the middle of the cave. As the figure grew closer, Oksa realized her first impression was right: the plaits pinned around the head, the regal gait, the smile she could just make out within the aureole of milky light…

“Dushka…”

Beside herself with joy, Oksa jumped into the water to make her way to her gran.

“BABA!”

W
AIST-HIGH IN WATER,
O
KSA HURRIED TOWARDS THE
figure of her gran.

“Baba! I can’t believe it’s really you!”

She tried to fling her arms around her, but they passed straight through her gran’s intangible body. Shocked, she took a step back.

“Are you a… ghost?”

“No, Dushka, much better than that. I’ve become an Ageless Fairy.”

“Oh! Baba…”

She was assailed by mixed emotions—intense joy coupled with deep sorrow—at the realization that Dragomira wasn’t entirely dead.

“Are you OK?” asked Oksa, her voice breaking.

Dragomira bent over as if to kiss her. Oksa felt a slight breath of air, then a delicate touch on her forehead: a kiss from beyond…

“Get out of the water, Oksa, and come and sit near me. I have things to tell you and, more important, things to show you.”

Oksa joined Dragomira by the water’s edge. Her clothes dried in a few seconds—what an incredible place! Oksa wanted to curl up against her grandmother, but she couldn’t. What she could see of her was real, yet untouchable. However, the main thing was being reunited with her. Dragomira stretched out on the sparkling sand and Oksa did the same without taking her eyes off her. She felt her gran stroke her tangled hair.

“You knew, Baba,”

“What did I know, Dushka?”

“What would happen to you when we passed through the Portal.”

Her gran sighed sadly.

“Yes, I knew, the fairies told me when they appeared to us on Orthon’s island.”

“That’s why you looked so sad…”

“It’s a great honour for me to have succeeded in getting you into Edefia. I had to pay dearly for that, and I’m no longer permitted to share the life of those I love… but it was worth it. I’m here all the same, in my fashion. I’ve been reunited with my mother.”

“Really?” exclaimed Oksa. “Malorane is with you?”

“Yes, and not just her. There’s also Youliana, my gran, and all the dead Graciouses. And just think, I have an Attendant at my beck and call!”

“Oh… one of those half-human, half-stag creatures? I hope he’s looking after you!”

“He’s marvellous. Just as marvellous as my Lunatrix.”

Dragomira faded as she said this.

“How is he?” she asked hoarsely.

“The same as the rest of us, Baba… It’s been very tough, you know.”

“Yes, I know. I visited you on several occasions and I saw what happened.”

“Why didn’t you show yourself? It would have cheered us up to know you weren’t dead!”

“I am dead, Dushka. Physiologically speaking, anyway. What you can see is my soul.”

Oksa groaned.

“But I can see your body! It’s just a bit blurry.”

“You can only see me today because of the Ageless Ones. Since we entered Edefia, I’ve been invisible and I’ll need quite a few centuries to appear as a shadow like them. After you leave, I’ll become transparent again.”

“So I won’t see you again…” said Oksa sadly.

“Yes you will, we’ll be together again soon, darling.” Oksa opened her eyes wide in panic.

“Do you mean I’m going to die too?” she asked worriedly.

“No, Dushka! No! The Lunatrix hasn’t told you anything then?”

“Wait a moment…” replied Oksa, thinking really hard. “Are you the new Supreme Entity? The one who embodies the equilibrium of the two worlds?”

Dragomira nodded.

“When you enter the Cloak Chamber, I’ll be there. Even though I’m the Supreme Entity, I can do nothing on my own. We have to combine our Gracious powers to restore the equilibrium.”

“As if you’re a bomb and I’m the detonator,” said Oksa. “Without a detonator, the bomb’s harmless. And without a bomb, there’s no point having a detonator.”

“Similar, but much more peaceful!” smiled Dragomira.

“The problem is, Baba, that the Chamber isn’t opening.”

“Do you know why?”

Oksa frowned.

“Because I’m not well,” she whispered.

“Exactly. You’re blaming yourself when everything that’s been happening is outside your control. You’re beating yourself up about everything, so the Chamber thinks you aren’t ready.”

“But I am ready, Baba!” replied Oksa angrily.

“No, you aren’t, Oksa,” said Dragomira gently. “But I’m going to help you… watch.”

Some images appeared on the calm waters of the Spring. Blurry at first, they soon steadied to provide Oksa with answers to the questions that were preventing her from being truly herself.

“The Camereye…” she murmured, desperate for certain assurances.

“For the first time in my life, I’ve Dreamflown,” explained Dragomira. “And this is what I was able to see for you…”

Oksa was shocked by the first image: seven people were in a large round tent—probably a yurt. Oksa easily recognized the Runaways who hadn’t entered Edefia. Marie, Akina and Virginia were snuggled up under a thick fur, while Gus and Andrew were busying themselves around the central hearth, where a good fire was burning. Their faces were drawn and they had bags under their eyes, but they seemed in good health. A few people who, by their traits and clothes, seemed to belong to one of the Mongolian nomadic tribes, were bustling about. The Camereye veered off to show Kukka, whose long blonde hair was being brushed by a young woman. There was clearly no one from the Felons’ clan. Except Barbara McGraw, whom Oksa was surprised to see there. So she’d stayed with the Runaways… why did she decide to do that? There’d been other Felons amongst the Spurned, whom she could have joined.

“We’re not going to spend the rest of our lives here, are we?” suddenly rang out Kukka’s voice.

Oksa saw the Spurned turn to look at her. Marie seemed despairing and Gus made no attempt to hide his irritation.

“Please don’t shout,” he growled. “I’ve got a splitting headache.”

“We have to regain our strength before we set off again,” added Andrew. “Instead of complaining, let’s be grateful to our hosts. Without them, we’d have been lost in the middle of the desert and perhaps even dead of hunger and cold already.”

Another scene appeared, showing the seven Spurned in an airport waiting room packed with hysterical travellers. The building seemed about to fall down: some of the walls had ominous gaping cracks, many of the windows were broken and the ground was strewn with pieces of glass and lumps of concrete. The Camereye scanned the space and Oksa could see soldiers armed to the teeth, as well as many notices written in Cyrillic. Marie was still in her wheelchair, and Gus was standing beside her. They all looked exhausted and anxious. Suddenly, a message echoed
from the loudspeakers, first in a language that sounded like Russian, then in English: a flight was announced. Immediately, a dense crowd of people surged towards the boarding gates. The hubbub was so loud that Oksa couldn’t hear the destination of that one flight. Everyone was pushing and shoving—this was the ugly side of the law of the strongest. The Spurned tried to push through with Marie’s wheelchair. Andrew was brandishing their tickets above people’s heads and, without Gus’s intervention, a hysterical woman would have grabbed them. There was growing chaos, people were becoming increasingly violent, so the soldiers decided to step in. Horrified, Oksa watched them firing into the air. There were loud screams of panic, then silence as the armed men surrounded the crowd.

“Will any passengers with tickets please make their way towards the check-in desks,” ordered one of them. “The others wait here!”

Some of the crowd broke away and gathered in the appropriate area. Reassured, Oksa watched her mother’s wheelchair being escorted by the Spurned and a few soldiers to the boarding gate. The Camereye zoomed in on the small group, who were congratulating themselves on surviving this ordeal. They’d all lost weight, their clothes were nothing but rags and tatters, but they looked enormously relieved to be catching this plane. Gus’s face appeared on the watery screen. He studied the ceiling, looking for something. Did he suspect that Dragomira could see him? Could he sense her?

“Oh, Gus…” sighed Oksa, her heart in pieces.

It was so hard and yet so comforting to see they were coping and that they were escaping from that chaos. So long as they kept strong…

Several scenes appeared in quick succession on the Camereye. Despite its severe damage, Oksa immediately recognized the Pollocks’ house in Bigtoe Square. The Spurned must have succeeded in returning to London. She couldn’t imagine how they must be feeling. It was awful
to come back in such terrible conditions. The world was nearing its end and all they could do was wait and hope. They were all busy cleaning, repairing and tidying the house. The water had come halfway up to the first floor and had left a sticky residue of mud over everything. Gus and Andrew were working on the roof to replace the countless missing tiles. The hardest thing to bear wasn’t the damage caused by the disaster, but the looting—the house, like hundreds of others in these troubled times, had been ransacked. As Oksa found out when she heard her mother talking sadly to her friends: everything that hadn’t been destroyed by the elements had been stolen or wrecked.

“As if we haven’t suffered enough,” groaned Marie, gazing around at the desolate scene.

“We’re safe and sound, that’s all that matters,” replied Virginia, hugging her tightly.

The Camereye paused, before showing one last scene, which really upset Oksa. Gus was in what had been her room. He was lying on her bed, his face screwed up in pain, suffering what was clearly a really bad migraine.

“It hurts so much,” he murmured, “I can’t stand it.” A few minutes later he got up. Leaning on the sash window, he looked out at the ruined square, unhappily fiddling with his school tie. Was he thinking about Oksa the way she’d thought about him when she’d found hers? She didn’t doubt it. And yet, when she saw Kukka come into the room and go over to Gus, her heart lurched.

“How dare she go into my room!” she thought angrily.

Gus glanced neutrally at the “Ice Queen”, which didn’t prevent her from going to stand beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder and Gus did nothing to stop her. Did he realize what that meant? Oksa gave a cry of rage. She grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at the water. The Camereye immediately winked out.

“Baba!” shouted Oksa hoarsely, still reeling from the pain caused by that sight. “Why did you show me that? WHY?”

The milky figure had disappeared.

“I’m not like Zoe, you know!” continued Oksa, clenching her fists. “I don’t want him to be happy without me!” She sat there open-mouthed at the enormity of her declaration. The truth, sudden as a whip crack, had just taken her by complete surprise.

“What about you?” rang Baba Pollock’s voice. “Could you be happy without him?”

“I… I can’t answer that,” she replied, dropping to her knees on the ground.

“Think very carefully about what all this means, Dushka… Think very carefully and use your anger wisely, without forgetting that you’re central to everyone’s hopes and expectations. Don’t give up. Never give up. And don’t leave it too long before you join me.”

The voice faded, leaving Oksa in turmoil.

“If you wanted to shake me out of it, Baba, it certainly worked!” she shouted. “I’m furious, sad and upset, but there’s no doubt I’m alive!”