Oksa Pollock: The Last Hope

by Anne Plichota

  “The what?” asked Oksa.

  “The Nontemporenta,” repeated Dragomira, “the pearl of longevity, if you prefer.”

  “Er, I don’t know if I prefer it!” retorted Oksa frowning. “What is it?”

  “Until then, the pearl had been a legend. People said that one of the Fairies possessed a shell filled with pearls which delayed the ageing process. But I think Abakum knows more than we do about this,” explained Dragomira, turning to her Watcher.

  “I’ve been turning over this matter of appearance in my mind for a while. But I think today all the pieces of the puzzle have finally fallen into place and I can clear up this issue, which has remained a mystery for over fifty years,” admitted Abakum, stroking his short white beard. “It’s true that I am in possession of several facts which give me an advantage and allow me to come to a very plausible conclusion—”

  His eyes gleaming with unnerving intensity, Abakum suddenly broke off, daunted by the magnitude of what he was about to reveal.

  “Abakum,” said Oksa, beseeching him with her eyes, “Tell us! Do you want us to die of curiosity?”

  “In the Book of Shadows inherited from my mother the Fairy, it is written that the fresh waters from the Singing Spring are responsible for the Ageless Fairies’ youthful freshness. These waters actually slow down the ageing process, so the Fairies can live for more than 500 years.”

  “Wow,” exclaimed Oksa, “even longer than the Lunatrixes!”

  “Oksa, don’t interrupt,” chided Gus, nudging his friend.

  “Yes, even longer than the Lunatrixes,” echoed Abakum. “One day, a young boy whom I knew well, Bjorn, confided in me. He’d witnessed something awful a few months previously and he wanted to tell me about it because, he said, it was keeping him awake at nights. He was seven or eight and his mother hadn’t wanted to believe him when he’d told her what he’d seen. She’d said he had an over-active imagination, and that had been the end of it. Then Bjorn came to see me. He’d caught sight of an old man in the forest, on the banks of a narrow river. He knew him well: it was Gonzal, a gentle man, well-liked by everyone. He was sitting on the riverbank and weeping because his fifth grandchild had just been born. They were tears of joy and sadness because his fifth grandchild was his first granddaughter, and he would have liked to live longer to watch her grow. I should say that, at that time, he was over 150 years old, and nearing the end of his life… little Bjorn then told me that a shining lady as bright as a glow-worm—almost certainly a Fairy—had appeared and had spoken briefly with old Gonzal. Then she’d given him a shell which shone with a bright pink light. When he told me that detail, it immediately made me think about what I’d read in the Book of Shadows: the Nontemporentas, the pearls of longevity, exactly matched that description.

  The little boy continued his story. Unfortunately for Gonzal, someone else had witnessed the scene: a man hidden behind some ferns, who pounced on him as soon as the Fairy had disappeared. Plunging a knife in his heart, he put stones in his clothes and threw him into the river. After grabbing the shell, of course. It wasn’t long before Gonzal’s family reported the old man’s disappearance. They searched high and low but no trace of him was found. Young Bjorn was terrified and didn’t dare breathe a word. As Gonzal was very old, everyone came to the conclusion that he’d withdrawn from the world to die in peaceful solitude, as people sometimes did. I had remembered the story clearly and, even then, I’d had my suspicions about this conclusion. But what my young informer told me later only confirmed my hunch. In fact, a few days later, arriving in Thousandeye City with his parents to sell a harvest of redcurrants, quite by chance he’d seen and recognized the man who’d murdered old Gonzal on a street corner. This had struck fear into his heart and made him decide to speak about it. The man in question was handing a box to someone he knew, a person of importance: Ocious, First Servant of the High Enclave and Orthon’s father, as you know. This information started me thinking. When I asked young Bjorn to describe the man talking to Ocious, I immediately recognized Marpel—there was no doubt in my mind. Bjorn had mentioned the green tattoo of an ivy branch snaking up his neck and over his ears, and Marpel was the only person who answered that description. This violent, unsociable man had been imprisoned for several months for robbing the jewellery factory. I secretly tried to track him down, but he’d disappeared. Anyway, his few friends had told the First Servant of the High Enclave, Ocious, that I was looking for him. The investigation didn’t come up with anything, so the search was abandoned—rather too soon, if you ask me. Because I’m now convinced that it was Ocious who received the Nontemporentas from Marpel, who had himself stolen them from old Gonzal.”

  “What an incredible story!” whistled Oksa, shaking her head. “But what do you know about these pearls of longevity?”

  “All I know is what I read in the Book of Shadows. The Nontemporentas are found in the depths of the Singing Spring. They’re bright pink in colour and they enable the man or woman who swallows them to retain the freshness of youth. It’s one of the secrets of the Ageless Fairies’ longevity.”

  “Men would happily kill for that,” remarked Pavel.

  “Yes, even in Edefia, where we live longer than on the Outside… Anyway, that’s probably what happened. Gonzal and Marpel paid with their lives for those fabulous pearls. And the trail leads right back to Ocious.”

  “And Ocious means Orthon-McGraw!” exclaimed Oksa.

  “When I saw him from my hot-air balloon I was shocked,” continued Leomido, shaking his head. “I recognized him perfectly, but he looked so young that I couldn’t believe my eyes. And, at the same time, it couldn’t be his son. It had to be him—too many details confirmed it. I’m totally flabbergasted.”

  “All this is very worrying. Not to mention that it makes the situation terribly complicated,” added Abakum.

  “As if it weren’t complicated enough,” muttered Pavel.

  “Complicated perhaps, but you have to admit that it’s incredible all the same!” cried Gus with an enthusiasm that surprised everyone. “Pearls of longevity, that’s amazing. Do you think McGraw has some with him or that he’s hiding them somewhere?”

  “Don’t get carried away, young man,” replied Dragomira, putting her hand on the boy’s arm. “This is only guesswork.”

  “But there isn’t any other possible explanation, it’s obvious!” said Gus passionately, brushing away a strand of hair.

  He was so thrilled by the idea that he was shaking.

  “It is a very plausible explanation, I agree, Gus,” remarked Abakum. “I think there’s a very strong probability that Orthon possesses some Nontemporentas. Or maybe he no longer possesses them—which would explain why he is so desperate to return to Edefia.”

  Taken aback, Oksa gazed steadily at Abakum:

  “That could be a really good reason.”

  “Yes,” admitted Abakum. “Although I do have another theory…” he added.

  72

  THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PICTURE

  “ANOTHER THEORY?” ASKED OKSA.

  “Remember what your gran showed you on the Camereye,” continued Abakum. “Ocious wanted to leave Edefia. We don’t know the exact details because Gracious Malorane was always very evasive about this subject, even with Mercedica and me, who were her confidants. But we do know, broadly speaking, that Ocious was intending to use his abilities on the Outside to gain power and supremacy. Something we could all have done in the fifty-seven years we’ve been here. Except that none of us has ever abused our powers, except for the person who paid for it with his life—”

  “The art thief!” suggested Oksa.

  “Exactly,” agreed Abakum. “But if I’m to shed any light on our present concerns, I must go back in time to when Gracious Malorane took the initiative in screening her Dreamflights to the Outside for members of the High Enclave and then all the other Insiders. Those public Camereye shows were a first in the history of Edefia—no Gracious had ever done that before. Most of them ha
d been tight-lipped about the subject and had been careful not to let anything slip. Or they’d give a verbal account of what they’d seen on their virtual travels. But, as a precaution, they carefully selected what they revealed, presenting a version which often strayed far from the truth.”

  “Abakum!” exclaimed Dragomira, outraged. “How can you say such a thing?”

  “My dear Dragomira, I’m sorry but everything I’m saying is the simple truth: the Graciouses weren’t always very honest with the people of Edefia when it came to their Dreamflights. Far be it from me to criticize, because they largely hid what they saw out of an instinct for protection. By shrouding the Outside in mystery, they managed to convince our people over the centuries that nothing but danger lay beyond Edefia.”

  “But Abakum,” broke in Oksa, “there’s something bothering me. I get the impression that, in some ways, you were… prisoners of Edefia!”

  “Oksa!” exclaimed Dragomira again, visibly shocked.

  A silence heavy with tension descended over the room. Dragomira’s breathing sounded agitated and her nostrils were quivering with anger. Abakum looked back and forth between the woman to whom he’d devoted his life—his dear Dragomira—and the girl who was now their Last Hope.

  “Oksa is right,” he said with boundless tact, gazing intently at the old lady. “Our people have always known about the Outside, but some of them were sure that things were being hidden from them: they believed it was possible to leave. No one spoke openly about it, but this belief only grew over the centuries and a growing number of Edefians felt like prisoners.”

  “I can’t let you say that!” retorted Dragomira with tears in her eyes. “Edefia had reached a state of perfection. I have never seen a more balanced, more respectful and more admirable way of life.”

  “In the eyes of the little girl you were then, agreed,” continued Abakum, with a pained expression. “Obviously Edefia never had anything in common with the dictatorships or totalitarian states that can be found on the Outside. It was a harmonious land where life was idyllic for most of us. But, from generation to generation, we gradually bought into the belief that everything elsewhere was bad. Fear, fuelled by ignorance and rumours, spread through the Insiders’ minds over the centuries, allowing the Graciouses to fulfil their wish to protect the people—convinced, I repeat, that it was for their own good. This was all very honourable, I’d be the first to admit it; but Edefia could actually be regarded as a prison by some of its inhabitants. In all honesty, someone has to say this. As far as I’m concerned, Malorane’s singular methods proved it. All the problems began when she started showing her unedited Dreamflights—this was the first time a Gracious had shown what she’d really seen on the Outside. Some people, led by Ocious, felt deceived by all the Graciouses before Malorane: the view we all had of the world around us was totally false. But should we judge Ocious’s supporters? That would be desperately unfair, because not only did the Graciouses lie—admittedly to protect us, but they lied all the same—but also the Outside was nothing like the frightening world they’d described to us before then. Despite the wars, the violence and the injustice, the Outside wasn’t at all what we’d been given to believe. In the space of just a few months, it became a land filled with temptation, and the belief we could visit it only grew stronger in some people’s minds.”

  Dragomira seemed totally demoralized by her Watcher’s words. Clenching her fists, she jumped up and ran into the kitchen with a stifled sob. Oksa leapt up immediately to follow her, shaking off her father’s hand as he tried to stop her.

  “Dad!” she said reproachfully. “Can you imagine what she must be feeling?”

  And she resolutely followed her gran, watched by the concerned Runaways.

  Dragomira was standing by the sink, letting her tears fall freely. Oksa squeezed her shoulder gently.

  “Dushka…”

  “Don’t worry, Baba. It’s only natural to be sad.”

  Dragomira dried her eyes and replied in a strained voice:

  “Deep down, I know Abakum is right. I’ve always known it, but I didn’t want to admit it and that’s what annoys me most of all.”

  She turned round and gave Oksa a long look before rejoining the others, who were waiting in silence. She sat down slowly, gazed up at her brother Leomido and asked him dully:

  “Is that how you felt too? Were you like them? Did you want to visit other places?”

  Leomido looked very uncomfortable. Then, suddenly, he met his sister’s gaze and blurted out nervously:

  “Yes I did—if you really want to know. I was dying to visit the Outside, explore the deserts and oceans, feel snow on my face, listen to different languages, hear the laughter of people other than those I loved so dearly… yes, I’d have done anything to leave!”

  “Would you have betrayed your family and friends?” asked Abakum harshly.

  “My family and friends betrayed me.”

  Oksa darted a glance from Leomido to Abakum. The two men were staring each other down, their eyes filled with resentment and sadness, although there was no hostility—deep sorrow seemed to emanate from this silent confrontation.

  “What do you mean?” breathed Abakum.

  Instead of replying, Leomido stood up and marched out of the room, leaving the Runaways completely at a loss.

  “What happened next?” asked Oksa, feeling unsettled, but still impatient to find out more about these remarkable revelations. “What happened next with Malorane’s Dreamflights?”

  Abakum shook his head and rubbed his eyes as if to banish an unwelcome thought, then continued his story:

  “Some men and women, led by Ocious, banded together to study the Outsiders’ behaviour and social set-up. You won’t be surprised to learn that they were particularly interested in matters of power… I remember an impassioned conversation I overheard between Ocious and one of his friends around the bend of a corridor in the Glass Column: Ocious was fired up about the omnipotence of the oil magnates. He went on to describe the financial mechanisms in minute detail and the influence they had on international political power. I remember clearly how that conversation both fascinated me and chilled me with fear. It was all so different from everything we knew in Edefia! And yet, in a strange way, nothing was really all that different because, deep down, I sensed that we could easily be persuaded to run things the way Ocious admired so much. Apart from our special powers, we weren’t so different from the Outsiders: we were all human, driven by the same aspirations, whether good or bad. It was quite a shock. Ocious and his group soon identified the strengths and, most importantly, the weaknesses of those living on the other side of the mantle, our frontier of light. From then on, Ocious pestered Malorane into making other Dreamflights to provide answers to all his questions. He wanted to know everything, absolutely everything, about the Outside. And Malorane—who will ever know why?—gave in to most of his demands.”

  Abakum broke off again and looked at Dragomira kindly. Baba Pollock cast down her eyes sadly, her lips pursed.

  “As you know, the Firmhands possess the power to transform rocks from the Peak Ridge mountains into diamonds. It didn’t take long for Ocious and his friends to realize the huge potential of that extraordinary power. Driven by ambition, they tried to find a way out of Edefia, reasoning that if it could be done mentally, by means of Dreamflying, then it could be done physically too. Of course it was physically possible! As you know, that was the legendary Secret-Never-To-Be-Told, the secret of the Graciouses. From then on, things went from bad to worse. Some of the Edefians began expressing their desire to travel to the Outside with increasing vehemence. But these wouldn’t have been courtesy visits: they had no desire to be tourists or enter into diplomatic relations. No! They were motivated by notions of power and supremacy, concepts we’d always tried to guard against. Until then, we didn’t have a highly developed sense of profit and domination. For centuries, our entire system had been based on principles which were the direct opposite of these and ha
d shaped the way we thought and acted. But, following Malorane’s public Dreamflights, people’s ambitions and thirst for power escalated, to our great misfortune. As soon as the Secret-Never-To-Be-Told was revealed, we realized with terror why the previous Graciouses had kept us in a happy state of ignorance: leaving Edefia entailed opening the Portal. And opening the Portal was extremely dangerous for Edefia; it made the land vulnerable to the worst possible danger—invasion by the Outsiders! If they’d known about the existence of our land, they would have coveted it and this would have led to exploitation, war and perhaps even our destruction. Because, contrary to the beliefs of many people at the time, the Secret hadn’t been introduced to hold the Insiders and the Graciouses captive: it guaranteed our safety, and Malorane was the first Gracious to get that wrong. The Gracious’s life and Edefia’s fate depended on it. Remember the confidential oath that all Graciouses swore during the Cloak Ceremony:

  Only you the Gracious

  Will keep this secret

  No one else but you shall know it

  Because there is in mankind

  On the Inside as on the Outside

  Both good and evil

  If the Secret be revealed

  You will lay down your life.

  “So they were actually being criticized for keeping that oath,” deduced Oksa.

  “Yes!” replied Abakum. “And there’s no doubt that they were in a cruel dilemma: they had to protect the Secret—and consequently Edefia and the people—by hiding things and telling lies. The less they said about the Outside, the more successfully they safeguarded the Secret-Never-To-Be-Told, and the safer Edefia remained.”

  “No pressure!” remarked Oksa ironically.

  “You’re well aware, youngsters, that we have gifts that many an Outsider would give their eye teeth to possess. Gifts which would confer undeniable power on anyone who used them unwisely. They are an incredible source of strength, but also a huge weakness. The Runaways know that only too well, since we live under the constant danger of being discovered and captured. But it isn’t just these gifts, it’s also the diamonds. On the Outside, diamonds are highly coveted gems with which people can achieve the wealth and power they lust after. We think that is bound to be what motivated Ocious. Blinded by ambition, he never weighed up the danger of opening the Portal. He was only interested in leaving with a large stash of diamonds and subjugating the Outside—or at least wielding some kind of power as a result of the vast riches those precious stones would have brought him. As soon as he discovered it was possible to leave Edefia, the Secret-Never-To-Be-Told was doomed, and our country’s descent into chaos was a foregone conclusion. But he wasn’t the one to leave—his son, Orthon, was. And if Orthon wants to go back to Edefia now, it’s because he knows he can, that’s the first point. When there’s no chance of something, you stop thinking about it, or even hoping for it. Secondly, Orthon was sent into exile, just like we were. Quite apart from pearls or diamonds, it’s natural he should want to go back, just like we do. But Orthon doesn’t belong to our group. He never has and never will. Not just because Ocious is his father—he can’t do anything about that, and I think some of us would be prepared to welcome him into our ranks despite his family connections. On the Outside, we’re all in the same boat, so to speak… No, the reason he can’t be counted as one of us is because he’s definitely an enemy of Edefia, as well as an enemy of the Runaways. I shall never forget that he killed my adoptive father in front of my eyes during the Great Chaos and he knows what a bitter grudge I’ve harboured against him for all these years because of it.”