The Heart of Two Worlds (30 page)

W
ITH RENEWED DETERMINATION,
O
KSA GOT TO HER
feet and paced up and down the cave. She had mixed feelings at the images she’d just seen and she felt torn between huge relief and intense frustration. Her mother and Gus were hardly on top form—as might be expected—but they’d worked miracles to get back to Bigtoe Square. There really wasn’t a better solution. Andrew and Virginia seemed to have their heads firmly set on their shoulders, they were bound to take things in hand…
All
of them had a great deal of common sense so they’d be OK. It was Kukka who’d caused the most heart-searching. Why had she stayed with the Outsiders? That shouldn’t have happened. Oksa immediately felt cross with herself for being sidetracked by this… tiny
detail
. Marie’s and Gus’s health was much more important than the machinations of that treacherous little pest, but after the shock delivered by the Camereye, she couldn’t just ignore her. She wouldn’t stand for it. And the physical maturity she’d gained through her forced metamorphosis wasn’t helping. On the contrary, it had heightened her feelings, the way she viewed her relationships with other people and her reactions. She felt more uptight than she’d ever been.

“Perhaps it isn’t mutual,” she tried to reason with herself, remembering Gus’s casual reaction when Kukka had put her head on his shoulder.

She remembered being very jealous of Zoe when she’d realized how much her second cousin had been attracted to Gus. How much she’d
hated her… and yet, Gus had never strayed. He was in love with her. That’s what he’d as good as told her before she entered Edefia. And that’s why Zoe had sacrificed herself: Gus would never love her. Unless she’d got the wrong end of the stick? Zoe had really unsettled her by implying that her unrequited love was for Tugdual. And why not? It was conceivable, Zoe could be so secretive. Unfortunately, that didn’t help Oksa to work out how she felt. The only advantage was that her rage at those stolen images had roused her from her apathy.

She made for the mouth of the cave, where the waiting Corpusleoxes greeted her with a searching look. One of them held out a slender chain from which dangled an unusual sphere the size of a plum. Oksa accepted the gift and examined the gem, a tiny Earth which looked like an identical copy of the real planet.

“How beautiful!” she exclaimed.

Intrigued, she whispered into her Granok-Shooter to produce a Reticulata, then gave a cry.

“Amazing! It’s moving!”

As if she were guiding a satellite, she had an overview of the planet, which was both magical and terrifying. Some of the oceans looked calm but others were raging, eating into the coastline and surging inland. She could also make out the mountain ranges, rising to meet the floating clouds, sometimes wreathed in plumes of white smoke caused by the forest fires burning at their bases. A volcano erupted in the part that Oksa identified as Iceland, spewing out tiny sprays of lava. All over the world, similar eruptions were wreaking havoc. Oksa studied Great Britain closely, particularly the area around London. She was relieved to see that, unlike the Volga or the Mississippi, the Thames had subsided. That would give the Spurned some breathing space at least…

Suddenly, Oksa felt the ball quivering in her palm like a vibrating phone. She narrowed her eyes to peer through the Reticulata and clearly saw an earthquake rocking the west coast of the United States. She closed her hand, tears in her eyes.

“Those poor people…” she groaned, thinking about everyone affected by the dying world.

Thousands of people must have lost their lives because of her moods. She was so annoyed with herself right now. One of the Corpusleoxes placed an enormous foreleg on the Young Gracious’s shoulder.

“You should make haste.”

“What must I do… exactly?” asked Oksa, a lump in her throat.

The creature pointed to the figure of the Ageless Fairy, who’d guided her through the maze.

“Good luck, Young Gracious,” said the Corpusleoxes.

Oksa went over to her escort, who was hovering a few inches above the ground.

“Let’s go, I’m ready!”

She raised her head high and slipped the “Earth” around her neck. Escorted by the golden shadow of the Ageless Fairy, she rose into Edefia’s fading sky. The Heart of the Two Worlds was dying and it was time for her to face her destiny and accept who she was: Edefia’s New Gracious.

D
EEP IN THE SEVENTH BASEMENT OF THE
G
LASS
C
OLUMN
, the door was blazing with the mesmerizing intensity of molten metal. Oksa squinted, dazzled by the blinding light spilling out from around the door frame and through the keyhole. It was time to enter the Cloak Chamber at last. Images of the past flooded her mind, reminding her of everything she’d gone through, from the moment she’d discovered her remarkable gifts in her London home to her arrival in Edefia. However, these memories only strengthened her resolve. She took a deep breath and turned round to look at everyone standing in a semicircle, staring at her intently—her father and the Runaways in the middle, flanked by Ocious and the Felons, who were glowering at her. Everyone was there. Everyone except the four people whose absence had left an aching void in her heart: her mother, Gus—who was so much more than a friend—Dragomira, her late gran, and evasive Tugdual, with whom she was so deeply in love.

Oksa screwed up her eyes to hide her violent emotions and protect her gaze from the intense glare radiated by the door. Endlessly reflected and magnified by the highly faceted precious stones lining the walls, the light was growing brighter with each passing second. Not only that, but the disagreeable stroboscopic effect created by the aerobatics of the Death’s Head Chiropterans and Vigilians high above the Runaways’ heads was even harder to bear. Oksa shot a disgusted glance at those revolting tiny
bats and winged caterpillars, sorely tempted to put an end to the torture by cremating them with a Fireballistico.

“At last!” whispered Ocious, raising his hand and clicking his fingers to halt the frenetic comings and goings of his airborne escorts.

The imposing old man took a few steps towards Oksa. Pavel Pollock stiffened but Abakum—the wise Fairyman—caught his eye and made a pacifying gesture.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” continued Ocious, blatantly exultant. “But since you’ve been here, my dear Oksa, those long, hard years have ceased to matter. The Cloak Chamber has reappeared; you will enter it and be enthroned, since you’re the one chosen as our new Gracious, the Gracious who’ll make it possible for me—for
us
to accomplish our mission.”

“Your mission? You’re such a megalomaniac!” protested Oksa, clenching her fists. “Anyway, you know very well I’m not here for you, I’m here to save the two worlds! You’ve got nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.”

The Felon gave an evil smile.

“Poor child,” he said. “You’re so naive!”

“You fancy yourself as the ruler of Edefia,” continued Oksa furiously, “but you’re just an ageing psychopath without a future. You’ve been nothing but a curse on the inhabitants of this magnificent land, which is now dying because of you, and you continue to believe you’re stronger than anyone. You’re… pathetic! Can’t you feel some remorse for once? There’s still time to show you’re a man, not a monster.”

“Oksa!” implored Pavel. “Be quiet.”

Beside herself with anger, Oksa was pulling at the hem of her blue T-shirt so hard that she was in danger of tearing it.

“I don’t give a damn for your impertinent opinion,” sneered Ocious “because I’m the one who has the power of life and death over your family and friends, until you come out again.”

Ocious waved a hand and the guards in leather armour posted around the vast circular hall closed ranks, putting the Runaways under even
closer surveillance. Then, with a speed that took everyone by surprise, he launched himself at Pavel and caught him in a firm neck hold. Drawing himself up to his full height, he glared evilly at Oksa.

“Now, you’ll do me the great pleasure of entering that chamber, restoring the equilibrium and coming out again to open the Portal for me. Do you understand, girlie?”

Before Oksa could reply she was suddenly distracted by a movement in the highest part of the seventh basement’s vaulted ceiling, covered in blue gems. A gorgeous bird with wings of fire was flying among the Chiropterans and Vigilians, which parted to let it pass. It circled above their heads with silent grace before landing at Oksa’s feet. The heart-stopping solemnity of this moment caused both Felons and Runaways to hold their breath.

“My Phoenix!” murmured Oksa.

The sublime creature bowed, then stretched out its foot and opened its talons to reveal a key decorated with an eight-branched star—the emblem of Edefia, which had turned Oksa’s life upside down when it had appeared around her belly button. The key fell to the ground, raising plumes of fine sparkling dust, then the Phoenix uttered a throaty caw and took off again, disappearing into the lofty dome.

“My Young Gracious is henceforth in possession of the final component,” declared a small chubby creature, hurrying over to pick up the key and offer it to Oksa.

“Thank you, my Lunatrix,” replied Oksa, holding out her hand. The key was surprisingly heavy and so cold to the touch that she almost dropped it. A few yards away, the door to the chamber grew larger with a roaring noise caused by the intense heat. Oksa trembled.

“The flames of hell…” she said, with a grimace.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“No, sweetheart,” whispered Abakum in her ear. “Your date with destiny.”

Turning to meet the Fairyman’s green eyes, Oksa gave him a faint smile. Feeling powerful and
actually
being powerful were two different things.

“Will you let me give my daughter some moral support?” growled Pavel, struggling to free himself from Ocious’s grip.

“If you must,” retorted the elderly Felon. He released Pavel, but kept his Granok-Shooter trained on him.

Looking distraught, Pavel walked over to Oksa and held her so tightly she could feel his heart racing.

“Everything will be fine, Dad,” she said quietly, as if trying to reassure herself.

Then, emptying her mind of all thoughts and refusing to look at anyone, she walked towards the chamber brimming with light.

The two authors of Oksa Pollock have hearts palpitating with gratitude. They are possessed here of the insistence to grant expression of firmly rooted gratitude to certain people:

The extremely active and loftily perched XO team; Gracious Bernard; indispensable Caroline; reassuring Edith; dynamic Valérie; imperturbable Catherine; international Florence; exuberant Jean-Paul; effervescent Stéphanie and all the men and women who labour in darkness or light.

The teams at SND and Jim Lemley for their decision and their colossal work.

All Pollockmaniacs, young and old, who continue to experience exponential growth in number and interest. Their dynamism stocks the minds of the authors with encouragement and happiness.

The booksellers and professionals in the industry of literature and books, the teachers and librarians in schools and cities who construct pillars replete with confidence which uphold this whole adventure.

The journalists who have been responsible for a circulation scintillating with sparks from the initial delight to the present endurance.

The foreign publishers whose perception, garnished with enthusiasm, will bring enjoyment to readers in all the far-flung corners of the world.

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