“No problem,” exclaimed Oksa. “I reckon my father is making a cake big enough for at least thirty, that’s just like him. There’ll be plenty for one extra.”
“Thanks, that’s great,” Zelda went on. “Zoe needs some friends, she got here a few weeks ago. Her parents died last year and her gran was looking after her, but then she died too, it’s really sad… now she lives with her great-uncle.”
“All the more reason for her to come and have some fun with us! It’ll do her good. See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow, Oksa!”
Leaning out of her window that evening, Oksa watched the comings and goings in the square. She felt sadness pressing down on her. Night had fallen, but the sky was clear and she made the most of her solitude to think things over in peace and quiet. Although it wasn’t easy: her thoughts were jumbled together in her head like laundry in the drum of a washing machine. During the spin cycle. The transition from being an ordinary girl to being the heir to the power of an unknown and fabulous land hadn’t been painless or uneventful. Oksa felt full of extraordinary feelings. Her brand-new gifts were becoming stronger and this gave her a heady sensation of power which was hard to resist. And it was exactly her inability to stand firm which had caused her so many problems and had led to her overwhelming unhappiness today. At the same time, an uncomfortable feeling was stealthily taking hold of her. She had the disagreeable impression that her life had reached a mysterious, and dangerous, turning point. She was longing to know more about Edefia and to see this famous land. But at the same time, where would it all lead? She didn’t know. To the best and worst of things, probably. The appearance of that Mark had turned her life, or rather her future, upside down. Would she become an astrophysicist, as she’d dreamt of doing since she’d discovered that the sky held such riches? Would she get married? Would she have children? Or would she lead the Runaways to Edefia and become their queen? All she knew today was that she was missing her mum terribly and that she was scared stiff that her parents would get divorced. She’d give everything she owned to go back to normal. But would that ever be possible? She saw a falling star which left behind a sparkling silvery trail, and made a wish. A wish as far out of reach as the stars in the sky.
These gloomy thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a brainwave. There was someone in this house who could answer her questions! She quickly ran up to the third floor and knocked softly at the door. Dragomira’s Lunatrixa opened it, a wide smile splitting her round face.
“Oohh, granddaughter of my Gracious, a visit lavish with abundance, what a delight!”
“Good evening. How are you?” asked Oksa, slightly taken aback to find herself in private conversation with this odd little creature.
“Very excellent, as always. This is a reliability which we keep to, we Lunatrixes. We have work to do, Her Graciousness has given us responsibility, we must be reliable, it is of voluminous importance!”
“You’re right,” agreed Oksa, trying to keep a straight face. “And what news of Dragomira… do you by any chance know when she’ll be back? And… my mother?”
“I have the knowledge of this information but I can tell you nothing. My lips are not stitched together with thread and yet I must keep silent. But do not be melancholy, they both have true love for you and their return is in proximity, that is fixed,” replied the Lunatrixa, gazing at Oksa with wide, kind eyes. “Would you wish an enchanting beverage?”
Oksa accepted happily. She stayed for a while with the creature, who was totally lovable. She felt a little ashamed of taking advantage of her kindness, but she needed to find out things so badly.
“Tell me, Lunatrixa, why did my gran never go back to Edefia?”
The Lunatrixa looked at her in amazement.
“Why? You have asked me about why? I plunge into total astonishment. You do not have the understanding?”
“Tell me, please, it’s so complicated for me,” insisted Oksa with pleading eyes.
“Well… I have fright in replying to you, but I shall nonetheless deliver the explanation. Two gravely important things put that return in impediment: the curse struck the Portal with closure. But the seriousness is removed since you are the future Gracious. Thanks to the alliance of the Two Graciouses, return again experiences a possibility. The second thing, on the other hand, inscribes a lasting sadness in our hearts: that is ignorance. Edefia is somewhere but who knows where?”
“You mean that no one knows where Edefia is? Not even approximately? In the North? In the South? Someone must have a clue, don’t they?” asked Oksa angrily.
“Only one person had the Landmark: Gracious Malorane. The Cloak Chamber is the giver of the Landmark and Gracious Malorane is the one who paid the last visit to the Chamber. But her life has been engulfed by the loss of the Secret-Never-To-Be-Told. However, may I formulate a thought to the granddaughter of my Gracious? A thought which is my conviction?”
“Yes, of course!” said Oksa impatiently.
“I knew the foresightedness of Gracious Malorane, she without fail has entrusted the Landmark to someone, my hope in this certitude is vast.”
“You think my gran?…”
“That is my hope. Our Gracious treads the path towards the solution. Hope will no longer be barren.”
The Lunatrixa wiped her wide eyes, which were gleaming with pinkish tears, then sniffed very noisily. Oksa gently stroked her large, rumpled head.
“I must go,” she said, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “Thank you for this information, Lunatrixa. See you soon!”
29
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OKSA!
“BE PATIENT A LITTLE LONGER, WE’RE ALMOST THERE,” murmured Pavel, guiding Oksa.
Every year, for his daughter’s birthday, he planned some kind of memorable surprise. The ritual was always the same: he came to fetch Oksa, blindfolded her and then took her somewhere unexpected. When they reached their destination, the blindfold was taken off and the mystery solved. For her twelfth birthday, he’d simply taken her to the top of the Eiffel Tower—an amazing surprise which she wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Pavel never did things by halves. This year, Oksa had an inkling what was waiting for her: ever since they’d arrived in London, her parents had categorically refused to let her see the restaurant, which seemed rather suspicious. All she knew was that the date of the opening had been set for 29th September, the day of her thirteenth birthday. “A lucky date for two red-letter days in my life,” Pavel had told her solemnly. So, although she had a hunch about where he was taking her, Oksa let him lead her along, spontaneously sharing his impatience and delight.
“We’re here… get ready for a surprise, my brave Oksa-san,” Pavel whispered in her ear, untying the blindfold.
Oksa blinked at the extraordinary shopfront opposite, which was covered with ivy, wisteria and climbing roses. Above the entrance, a streamer floating in the wind informed all the passers-by that it was Oksa’s birthday.
“Oh Dad, this is brilliant!”
“Welcome to the French Garden, darling! But wait. You haven’t seen anything yet…”
Pavel took her hand and led her inside. As soon as he opened the door, Oksa felt as if she’d entered a different world: a fantastic garden stretched out before her, an idyllic plant world filled with a riot of unexpected vegetation. The girl took a few steps forward, fascinated.
“Is this grass?” she exclaimed, kneeling down to touch the floor.
“Yes,” replied Pavel gravely, his eyes shining.
Oksa continued to look around, feeling impressed. There were plants everywhere, banks of flowers, clumps of shrubs and even an oak tree in the middle of the room. Beneath the warmth of giant reflective lamps, rushes and reeds rustled quietly around a pool filled with goldfish. Low box or hawthorn hedges preserved the intimacy of each table, while roomy leather chairs allowed diners to eat in comfort. The mezzanine overhanging part of the first floor was just as magical, with canvas deckchairs facing a wall of water.
“You’ve
recreated a garden… inside a house?! That’s super-cool!”
“It’s all thanks to my origins. The Sylvabul blood running through my veins gave me the power of Greenthumb, which I used to good effect.”
“It’s magnificent, Dad!”
“I know. Hey, come over here for a moment.”
Pavel led her towards an arbour covered with dark roses which concealed another equally fantastic room with a glass ceiling. Standing on the daisy-dotted grass, all the guests began singing at the top of their voices around the table, which held a gigantic three-chocolate cake, the largest Oksa had ever seen. Everyone rushed over to hug her warmly. The Bellangers and her school friends were there, Gus standing right next to her, bellowing “Happy Birthday”. Then music started playing and some of the guests began dancing. The party was a great success and the cake to die for—Pavel had seen to that. Everything was just perfect. Everything or almost: Marie Pollock was the only one who wasn’t there. On the verge of tears, Oksa kept watching the door in the desperate hope that her mother would appear. Pavel could sense his daughter’s heart sinking lower and lower as time went by. She was doing her utmost to put on a cheerful, light-hearted front, but she felt terribly sad.
Dragomira had arrived that morning. As soon as she’d come through the door with their faithful family friend, Abakum, Oksa had thrown herself into her arms. She’d been too polite to mention how ill her gran looked, but her joy at seeing her again hadn’t prevented her from noticing Dragomira’s drawn features and the dark bags under her sunken, tear-filled eyes. But at least her Baba was here!
As for Oksa’s younger guests, they’d taken over the deckchairs and were pigging out on sweets while examining their friend’s haul of gifts: an astronomical telescope, a webcam, a bag printed with the effigy of a manga heroine, a green plastic inflatable armchair, the latest CD by her favourite band and some perfumed soap. The last gift had been from Zoe, Zelda’s friend. When Oksa had seen her, she hadn’t been able to hold back her amazement: this was the girl who kept hanging round Gus! The most annoying girl she’d ever met. The one she’d decided to call the Schemer. At first she’d been wary of her and a little annoyed that she was at her birthday party, and she’d thought that Zelda was being manipulated. That girl probably wasn’t interested in anything except getting as close as she could to Gus—which didn’t please Oksa at all. After watching her for a while, she realized it wasn’t that simple and this annoyed her even more. No one was immune to Zoe’s charm. She was pretty, she moved with the grace of a dancer and her skin was as delicate as porcelain. Even worse: there was an aura of sadness about her which set her apart from the others and which everyone found deeply moving. There was something touching about her large, sad, shy eyes. Oksa sensed she was a tortured spirit, and found her intriguing. Feeling irritated, she couldn’t help scrutinizing Zoe’s reaction to Gus—and vice versa—rather tactlessly in fact, since her friend lost no time in coming over:
“You’d make a very bad spy.”
“What do you mean?” retorted Oksa, pretending she didn’t understand.
“Why are you watching us like that?”
“That girl really annoys me,” said Oksa, as if this was a perfectly normal thing to say.
“She annoys you because she’s talking to me and because I like her, is that it?”
“Whatever,” she sighed, by way of an answer.
“Do I sulk when Merlin chats to you?” asked Gus bitterly.
Taken aback by this remark, Oksa gaped at him, then quickly turned on her heel, which didn’t stop Gus following her, grumbling under his breath:
“I don’t say a thing when you’re both sniggering. Nothing at all. Anyway, if you really want to know, I don’t give a damn!”
Feeling cut to the quick, Oksa flopped down into a deckchair to chat with Zelda. Gus was so pig-headed! Suddenly she saw her friend was looking at something. She turned round and her eyes brightened.
“MUM!”
Marie Pollock had just arrived. Forgetting her problems, her heart bursting with joy, Oksa rushed over to her and they showered each other with kisses.
“Darling, I missed you so much!”
“Oh you came, thank you, Mum!”
“No, Oksa, I didn’t come,” said her mum, correcting her. “I came back.”
Oksa nestled against her and hugged her, thinking that she’d never felt anything so good. Then, grabbing her hand and with her arm tightly around her waist, she shouted proudly.
“Hey everyone, this is my mum!”
Marie looked around at them all gathered there and stammered, with a lump in her throat:
“I’m terribly late…”
“It doesn’t matter, Mum,” replied Oksa.
Everyone greeted her warmly, aware that she was the most eagerly awaited guest of the afternoon. Dragomira, Abakum and Pavel had risen to their feet. Marie walked over to them a little hesitantly, then threw herself into her husband’s arms, murmuring what were probably loving words in Pavel’s ear, to judge by the radiant look on his face. Then it was Dragomira’s and Abakum’s turn to hug her, much to Oksa’s delight as she watched in relief. What a wonderful birthday! The best ever.
30
SOME UNUSUAL GIFTS
THE PREVAILING MOOD WAS AS BRIGHT AND WARM AS the late-afternoon sun. After Marie’s return, the guests soon made themselves scarce, leaving the Pollocks and Abakum to enjoy their reunion. They all walked briskly and cheerfully back to Bigtoe Square and, to set the seal on this new-found harmony, Dragomira decided to show Oksa and Marie her strictly private workroom for the first time—a highly symbolic gesture for Baba Pollock.
“Wow!” cried Oksa in amazement, as she walked into the double-bass case which led to the secret room hidden under the eaves. “This beats everything! Is there a code? How does it work?”
“No, there isn’t a code,” replied her gran, climbing the narrow spiral staircase. “But no one can break into the case, it only obeys three people: my two trusty Lunatrixes, who look after the creatures living under this roof, and me. All we have to do is put our hand on the back of the case for it to open.”
“So it’s digitally activated?” asked Oksa in delight. “But that’s really high-tech!”
“What did you expect, Dushka? We’re a highly evolved people! This method of opening doors is as old as the hills… at any rate, what I mean is that we’ve been using it in Edefia since the dawn of time.”
“Gosh,” remarked Oksa thoughtfully, “did you have the same set-up in the Paris apartment?”
“Yes, in the attic, just above your room… Well, here we are,” proclaimed Dragomira. “Oksa, Marie, welcome to my strictly private workroom.”
“Oh my God,” breathed Marie, her hand over her mouth.
“Aaah, wow! I see…” exclaimed Oksa stopping short on the landing.
And what she saw would have silenced anyone. Before her eyes, various weird and wonderful occupants were sleeping peacefully in alcoves hollowed out of the wall. There was some kind of large long-haired potato, little frogs with folded wings, a deeply creased dwarf walrus, a tiny hen cocooned in a ball of cotton wool… but what Oksa found stranger than anything was knowing that these odd neighbours had always led a secret existence in a magic lair a couple of yards above her room!
“Come in, come in,” said Dragomira. “Don’t be afraid: my creatures sleep like logs.”
Oksa stepped forward and took a closer look at this workroom, which was bathed in a pleasant natural light filtering through huge glass skylights. Like the other rooms which Baba Pollock inhabited, this one was in an indescribable muddle—which was Dragomira to a T. An alcove carpeted with overlapping rugs contained a greyish-blue sofa and a small piece of furniture painted bronze. The octopus which Oksa had seen the evening when everything had been revealed to her was lying on a wrought-iron console table, creating a pleasing pattern by waving its eleven light-tipped tentacles in the air. The walls were hung with heavy silk fabrics which muffled the small
est noise and made the whole room feel enclosed but very comfortable. The Lunatrixes were standing in a corner of the room, totally immobile too, like little statues.
“This is unbelievable,” whispered Marie in Oksa’s ear.
“Come in and make yourselves at home!” said Dragomira, inviting them to sit down on a long plum-coloured velvet love seat.
Marie took her husband’s hand, while Oksa curled up against her, leaning her head on her shoulder. The three of them formed a moving tableau after these tough weeks of separation. Abakum, standing back slightly, looked at them with great emotion.
Dragomira took a small packet from her pocket and handed it to Oksa, who ripped it open.
“What’s this, Baba? A bracelet? It’s fab. It’s so soft!”
“This is a Curbita-Flatulo, sweetheart,” explained Dragomira.
Oksa looked at it incredulously.
“We think you might have had some difficulty controlling your abilities.”
“To say the least!” broke in Marie Pollock, her hazel eyes fixed on Oksa. “To be honest, what your gran told me shocked me to the core. At first, I refused to believe it, then I was totally terrified by what was happening. I always knew that the Pollocks were a little odd when I married your father—but not that odd! And you didn’t spare me either, my little witch!”
She made no attempt to hide her sadness, which surprised Oksa. The girl had never seen such a serious expression on her face. She usually only looked at Oksa’s father that way.
“Don’t worry, Mum,” she murmured.
“Oh, I’m not worried, I’m petrified!”
A heavy silence filled the workroom. The Lunatrixes turned a surprising greenish colour and discreetly tried to leave. Unfortunately, their uneasiness only accentuated their natural clumsiness: both of them tripped over a cushion lying on the floor and fell flat on their faces.
Oksa Pollock: The Last Hope Page 17
