The Heart of Two Worlds
Page 30
“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.
1
A DATE WITH DESTINY
DEEP IN THE SEVENTH BASEMENT OF THE GLASS COLUMN, 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 ha
nd. 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.
BE ACCEPTING OF THANKS
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.
PUSHKIN CHILDREN’S BOOKS
We love stories just as much as you. Since we were very young, we have loved to hear about monsters and heroes, mischief and adventure, danger and rescue, from every time and every place.
We created Pushkin Children’s Books to share these tales from different languages and cultures with you, to open the door to the colourful worlds beyond that these stories offer.
From picture books and adventure stories to fairy tales and classics, from fifty-year-old favourites to current huge successes abroad, Pushkin Children’s books are the very best stories from around the world, brought together for our most discerning reader of all: you.
For more great stories, visit
www.pushkinchildrens.com
Copyright
Pushkin Children’s Books
71–75 Shelton Street
London WC2H 9JQ
Translation © Sue Rose 2014
Oksa Pollock: The Heart of Two Worlds first published in French as
Oksa Pollock: Le Coeur des deux mondes by XO Editions in 2010
Original text © XO Editions, 2011. All Rights Reserved
First published by Pushkin Children’s Books in 2014
This ebook edition first published in 2014
ISBN 978 1 78269 076 4
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission in writing from Pushkin Press
Unloveable
By Steven Morrissey and Johnny Marr
© Artemis Muziekuitgeverij B.V. (BUM/STE)
and Universal Music Publishing Limited (GB) (PRS)
All rights reserved
Undisclosed Desires
Words and music by Matthew James Bellamy
© 2009 Loosechord Limited (PRS)
All rights administered by Warner/Chappell Music Publishing Ltd
www.pushkinpress.com