“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Forget it,” replied Gus sullenly, making no attempt to lighten his tone. “Tell me what the colour is like and we’ll call it quits.”
Oksa frowned. How could you describe something that didn’t exist? She could see the beam of light, but it was impossible to find the right words. Oksa wracked her brains and, doing her best not to annoy her friend any further, decided to tell him exactly what she saw:
“At first it looks like the beam is rising from the ground into the sky but, if you examine it more closely, you can see it is actually coming from the sky. It’s falling like a vertical ray of sunshine.”
“I’m with you so far,” nodded Gus. “But what about the colour, Oksa? Tell me what the colour is like.”
“It isn’t like anything, Gus,” admitted Oksa.
“How can it not be like anything?”
Oksa glanced at him in frustration.
“I could tell you that it’s a blend of all the existing colours, but that wouldn’t be right. I don’t know, Gus… I don’t know what the colour’s like.”
Gus sighed noisily.
“OK, I believe you,” he said, giving in.
The bus suddenly stopped. Naftali got up and stretched.
“It’s almost dark, we should get some rest.”
A shadow crossed Oksa’s face. After travelling so many miles and enduring so many hardships, everyone should be dying to pass through the Portal, but no one seemed that bothered about reaching the beam of light. It made no sense! The Young Gracious’s concern was only heightened when she saw Orthon banging on the door of the bus in a temper.
“Why are you stopping?”
“We’re going to spend the night in this village,” replied Dragomira, calmly and authoritatively.
Orthon glared at her.
“That’s just wasting time!” he fumed.
“You can go on ahead and wait for us!” replied Baba Pollock. “We’re spending our last night here together.”
LAST NIGHT? Oksa stiffened. She looked at her gran in a panic, then her parents. She shakily left her seat and went over to her mother.
“Mum? What’s going on? Tell me it isn’t true…”
Her voice broke. Marie hugged her. She didn’t deny or confirm anything, but her silence spoke volumes. The bus creaked as the Runaways got out and Pavel picked up Marie to carry her down from the vehicle. Hanging on to her mother’s hand, Oksa followed, a scared look in her eyes.
“That’s pretty,” said Gus behind her.
The village looked abandoned. The houses were in ruins; sections of wall had fallen down to reveal glimpses of dusty interiors and toppled furniture, vestiges of lives that had been turned upside down. However, in the middle of this wreckage stood an almost intact Buddhist temple, built of grey stone and weathered wood. Small sculptures of men astride dragons dangled from the curved ends of the roof, which had only lost a few glazed tiles. The setting sun bathed this ancient building in an aura of mystery.
“No kidding,” exclaimed Oksa. “It’s gorgeous.” Dragomira was already marching towards the temple, where she and her clan would spend the night. She climbed the few steps leading up to the entrance, took out her Polypharus, then walked inside.
“I hope there aren’t any ancient ghosts of demon monks,” whispered Gus to Oksa, in a ghoulish voice.
She jumped and punched him on the shoulder.
“Idiot!”
“Come on, let’s take the grand tour.”
Oksa smiled, grateful to him for attempting to lighten the mood. She followed him inside the temple, which felt safe and peaceful, despite being dilapidated. A brazier in the centre of the large main room, filled with sticks collected by Pierre and Abakum and lit by Dragomira’s Fireballistico, soon had everyone feeling warmer. The Runaways searched the houses nearby and brought back the makings of a real feast: potatoes, dried meat, lard and nuts.
“I’m starving,” admitted Oksa, greedily eyeing the potatoes beneath the embers.
“Everyone knows you’re a pig!” said Gus.
Oksa looked at him, her eyes shining, torn between laughter and tears.
“And don’t say you’re a growing girl…”
“Well,” sighed Oksa. “It does feel like I haven’t eaten for days.”
“Are you on a diet?” asked the Incompetent, looking puzzled. “But you’re thin as a rake!”
He crunched on a walnut, spat out the shell and ate the kernel.
“You’re hilarious,” laughed Oksa, stroking the creature’s wrinkled skin.
Everyone sat round the glowing brazier. Driven by a type of clan instinct, the families had gathered into groups: Pollocks, Bellangers, Knuts, Fortenskys… They were all drawn with tiredness and anxiety, but there seemed to be an unspoken agreement not to mention the fact that the Outsiders might not be allowed into Edefia—that would be too hard to bear. So they all concentrated on their loved ones in tormented silence, hoping against hope that everything would be all right.
With a full stomach and greasy hands, Oksa laid her head on her mother’s shoulder.
“It’ll be fine, darling,” murmured Marie, stroking her daughter’s hair. “But, whatever happens, you must always believe in yourself. And in us. You have a huge responsibility and you must do everything you can to succeed, do you understand? Everything… that’s more important than anything. And tell yourself that nothing is ever hopeless, there’s always an answer.”
Oksa choked back a sob.
“Do you really think so, Mum?”
“Of course I do!”
Marie seemed so sure! Her words cut through the gloom, touching the hearts of those who heard them.
“You aren’t alone, you’ll never be alone, don’t ever forget that.”
Oksa suddenly felt very tired. Her eyes strayed towards Tugdual, who was staring at her solemnly. If the Outsiders couldn’t get into Edefia, he wouldn’t be separated from anyone in his family. All the Knuts were descendants of Insiders. Except for Tugdual’s father, who was already lost, swallowed up by the raging chaos that had overtaken a world fighting a losing battle.
“You ought to go and see Gus,” Marie suggested quietly. “He needs you.”
Oksa scanned the room; Gus was no longer there. He was standing farther away, silhouetted against the shimmering moonlight. With his back to the Runaways, he was leaning on the railing that ran the length of the temple, his black hair forming a curtain over his face. Oksa went over to stand beside him. They stayed silent for a moment, staring into space.
“Do you love him?” Gus asked suddenly.
“Who do you mean?” replied Oksa defensively.
“Who do you think I mean? Your ‘Goth Superman’.”
“Oh Gus,” whispered Oksa, exasperated. “Do you really think it’s the right time to talk about this?”
“We may not have the chance to talk like this again for a while…”
Oksa hunched over.
“What difference would it make?” she asked.
“Oksa—it makes all the difference!”
“Well, in that case, you’ll understand when I don’t answer your question.”
Gus turned to look at her. His blue eyes darkened.
“Don’t you think you owe me that much? It’s important for me to know if you love him or not.”
“Oh Gus,” sighed Oksa, the colour draining from her face.
“It’s only natural, isn’t it? Before my life is completely turned upside down, I’m entitled to know if you love someone else, aren’t I?”
“Am I imagining things or are you trying to pick a fight?” asked Oksa indignantly.
Gus scowled.
“It’s not like that…”
“It is,” replied Oksa, warily.
She tapped nervously on the polished wood of the railing, avoiding the slightest physical contact with Gus.
“Can I ask you something?” she continued after a few minutes.
“Mmmm…”
said Gus.
She coughed. The words were stuck in her throat, but she eventually managed to ask hesitantly:
“Are you in love with me?”
Gus stood still as stone. Only his accelerated breathing gave him away.
“What do you think?” he asked in a low voice, looking straight ahead. “How could someone as brilliant and brave as me be interested in someone like you? Honestly! Take a good look at yourself, you’re dull, ugly, boring, thick and you have absolutely no sense of humour. Who’d want you apart from your ‘Swedish crow’?”
Oksa would have burst out laughing if Gus’s anguish wasn’t so obvious in those bitter-sweet words. During the embarrassing silence that followed, Gus studied the abandoned village for no good reason and Oksa took advantage of the moment to put her hand on his arm. He feebly tried to shake it off. Then, without thinking, she turned to him and gently kissed the corner of his mouth.
39
ON THE THRESHOLD OF EDEFIA
THE WATERS OF LAKE GASHUN-NUR SHIMMERED IN THE eerie, dramatic glow of the Definitive Landmark. An ominous gangrene-like darkness was gradually spreading across the sky from Saihan Toroi, while the crackle of occasional flashes of black lightning broke the silence of the desert and startled the travellers.
The sun was going down behind dark bands of thick fog by the time the Runaways and the Felons arrived at the lake shore. Orthon had been driving his bus flat out, frantic with impatience. Everything he’d been working for and had dreamt of—his revenge—was at last within reach. The minute the buses stopped, he leapt out like a big cat and positioned himself beside the radiant Definitive Landmark, ready to meet his destiny. Surrounded by the members of both clans, a trembling Dragomira approached in her turn. Oksa and Abakum took her hand. Baba Pollock and the Fairyman were crying silently and their emotions were so raw they were almost palpable.
“Old Gracious, Young Gracious, their Runaway friends and their enemy companions should receive the information that the opening of the Portal is encountering imminence,” informed the Lunatrix standing before Dragomira. “The phoenix of the Young Gracious is signalling its approach. When the meeting has been accomplished, the medallion will make disclosure of the song concealed within its depths and the Two Graciouses will have to articulate the incantation with harmony to implement the opening of the Portal.”
Dragomira teetered. Abakum held her up and put his arm under hers to provide more support.
“Are you all right, Baba?” asked Oksa softly.
Dragomira smiled sadly. Oksa felt giddy. Her gran suddenly looked so old…
“Here we are at last, dear sister!” whispered Orthon, triumphantly waving the medallion in the air.
Without deigning to give him a look or a word, Dragomira held out her hand for the medallion. She slowly turned it over in her fingers, examining it before gazing up at the sky, which was turning a mottled black. The medallion opened with a soft click, then a mechanism began working and some engraved words slowly appeared on the worn gold. Oksa waited for a sign from Dragomira.
“Time makes urgent expression for action,” reminded the Lunatrix.
“Give me a moment, my Lunatrix,” entreated Dragomira, sounding choked. “Just one minute…”
One by one, she hugged all her friends, paying particular attention to Abakum and Pavel. When only Oksa was left, she walked over to her with dragging feet, eyes brimming with tears she was struggling to hold back. She hugged Oksa hard.
“Everything will be fine,” said Oksa reassuringly. “Don’t worry. You’re going back to Edefia, your Lost Land, Baba!”
Dragomira went to stand behind Oksa and put her arms around her. In the unbroken silence, the Definitive Landmark gradually disappeared, slipping slowly below the waters of Gashun-nur. The lake acquired an indescribable hue, which seemed to come from the bowels of the Earth.
“The phoenix…” gasped Reminiscens.
Oksa looked up. A fabulous creature with blood-red feathers was growing noticeably larger, its broad, powerful wings steadily beating the air.
“It’s so beautiful!” declared Oksa quietly.
The phoenix flew over the heads of the Runaways and Felons and landed at Oksa’s feet. Although its wingspan was as large as an eagle’s, it was much more flamboyant, as if every feather were formed of fire and gold, and its small eyes burned with the intensity of molten lava. The delicate plume on the bird’s small head swayed as it bowed respectfully. Oksa knelt down and reached out her hand to stroke the fantastic creature, her face alight with exaltation.
“What… what do I do now?” she asked softly.
Dragomira hugged her even tighter. Oksa felt her gran’s heart beating hard, which scared her. Trembling, the old woman held out the medallion so they could both read the incantation appearing on it.
The Lost Land will be found
If sworn enemies will set down
Old wrongs to combine their might.
The phoenix will be the guide
Leading all exiles inside
Through the Portal’s gate
That Two Graciouses unified
Have the power to create.
The Secret-Never-To-Be-Told is no more
But the hope of two worlds lives on.
Let the Portal now restore
The mysterious entrance to our kingdom.
The atmosphere was horribly tense as a few seconds ticked by. Then the phoenix suddenly took off and flew west over the dunes towards the setting sun. It slowed to turn its head round to look at Oksa and its song filled everyone’s hearts as it disappeared into the twilight.
40
WHEN FATE KNOCKS AT THE DOOR…
OKSA HAD PICTURED THIS MOMENT THOUSANDS OF times. Even though it was different every time, it was always filled with magic, excitement and a spirit of pure adventure. However, when she saw the Runaways and Felons being sucked randomly into an invisible void, she realized that this was nothing like she’d imagined. Screams of panic rang out until suddenly silenced by the frontier between the two worlds. She felt herself torn from Dragomira, as if her hand had dissolved in hers, and saw Orthon, Naftali, Tugdual and Gregor pass through the Portal, but none of the Outsiders. Her heart turned to ice. Her father shot her one last panicked look before he was separated from Marie and disappeared into what looked like a black hole. Then an implacable force took hold of her too.
Eyes wide, unable to control her body, she let herself be drawn inside. She saw herself pass through a golden corona of light, which reminded her of the ethereal outline of a ghost. Then, a moment later, she crashed down onto another sand dune, which looked exactly the same as the one she’d just left, except that the light was much brighter. Many of the Runaways and Felons were there, looking dazed but alive. Her father, Abakum, Naftali… they all gazed at her miserably. They’d succeeded, but the price they’d paid was unbearable.
“Mum…” groaned Oksa, her hand over her mouth.
Her whole body was trembling with shock. It was heartbreaking—everyone’s worst fears had been realized: the Outsiders hadn’t made it. But when Oksa saw everyone staring at something behind her, she felt a terrible sense of foreboding. She whirled round and screamed in despair.
“Baba! No!”
The golden corona they’d all passed through was still there. Despite its hazy contours, they could all recognize Dragomira’s upright figure and her plaits fastened in a crown around her head. Oksa collapsed onto the sand, her heart in pieces. The corona swayed and seemed to want to come nearer. Oksa held out her hand, filled with the foolish hope that everything would be all right and she was just having a nightmare. But she knew she was awake—this wasn’t a nightmare, it was harsh reality.
“Baba—stay with us, please!” she wailed.
Her entreaties and tears did nothing to alter the inevitable. Dragomira vanished in a gold mist, surrounded by the Ageless Ones, bearing her up into Edefia’s stormy sky.
PART TWO
EDEFIA
; 41
THE NEW GRACIOUS
OKSA FELT AN ARM AROUND HER SHOULDER. PAVEL was sitting beside her, his eyes brimming with tears.
“Is Baba dead?” she whispered, still in shock.
“Her power as a Gracious made it possible for the Portal to open,” replied Pavel, sounding choked. “As it opened, your gran’s spirit left us to join the Ageless Ones.”
“I’ll never get over it…”
Oksa dissolved into tears, her body racked with violent sobs. She couldn’t believe fate would be so cruel. She ran to the top of the dune, where the Portal had materialized and then disappeared immediately after. Edefia’s pale shimmering mantle was now visible, although faint. As soon as Oksa drew near this very real frontier, she found that some kind of invisible force was preventing her from going any farther. Blinded by grief, she tried to push against it but was unceremoniously hurled back down the sand dune. She sat up. The Runaways had successfully accomplished their mission and had rediscovered their lost land, but they’d paid a heavy price for it and no one knew if this sacrifice would jeopardize the rescue of the two worlds.
The Heart of Two Worlds Page 19
