The Forest of Lost Souls (22 page)

Oksa had no time to think about Tugdual’s enigmatic answer, as her attention was distracted by the dull thud of a body hitting the ground. She turned round to see that Gus had collapsed in the scalding desert.

“I can’t go any further,” he whispered, his eyes bloodshot.

Oksa looked at her friend. He was in a dreadful state and wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer. Sadness washed over her. Above them, the marbled sky was covered with clouds that shimmered with metallic glints. Black lightning cut through the sky from time to time, startling them all, but it was those violent flashes that gave Gus the inkling of an idea:

“Oksa!” he shouted.

The girl jumped, surprised by her friend’s vehement tone.

“It’s a long time since you lost your temper,” he croaked, hoarse with thirst.

She looked at him incredulously. What on earth was he on about?

“Er… sorry, Gus, but don’t you think things are complicated enough already? I’m dehydrated, exhausted and desperate. And, if you really want to know, I’m also terrified at the thought of dying here in the next few hours… but I’m not angry. I don’t have enough energy for that.”

She fixed her slate-grey eyes on Gus, who gave her a faint smile.

“Do you remember what happened when McGraw sent you out of the classroom?” he said.

It took Oksa a few seconds to realize what her friend was getting at.

“Of course!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up. “Anger equals storms equals… RAIN!”

This last word caught the attention of all the Runaways and rekindled a spark of hope in their hearts—they might survive after all.

“Make me angry!” ordered Oksa, her eyes shining. “Come on! Wind me up! Make me lose my temper!”

T
HE
R
UNAWAYS EXCHANGED GLANCES, DAZED WITH
tiredness. Oksa was already concentrating, trying to summon up any memories, thoughts or scenarios that might make her boiling mad. Although McGraw and Mortimer were the first to spring to mind, Oksa was surprised to realize it was pity she felt, not anger, when thinking of the Felon in the cellar a few seconds before he imploded and
disappeared
into the black hole of the Crucimaphila. Nor could she stop herself seeing Mortimer as a boy who’d just lost his father. “Brilliant!” she scolded herself. “Despite everything they’ve done, you still feel sorry for them. Honestly, Oksa-san, you’re incorrigible.” While the Runaways wracked their brains to think of a way to make her lose her temper, the Young Gracious reviewed her other memories: the mental image of her mother confined to her wheelchair upset her. Her nose began prickling as if she’d breathed in mustard, but that feeling was a million miles away from anger. A wave of sadness combined with intense anxiety made it hard to breathe. This wasn’t working… it was exactly the wrong way to go about it. She thought about Zoe and her tragic past. She missed her kindness and insight so much. Then Dragomira. Her Baba. She was dying to be cuddled by her, watch her bustling around her private
workroom
and stuff herself with her delicious rolled crêpes. No good… Her
thoughts were just unachievable dreams filling her heart with sadness and terror. All hope was evaporating in this furnace, causing the images in her mind’s eye to fade.

“Oksa!” called Gus weakly. “You know what? I’m a real loser. A girl like you deserves a better friend than me.”

Still distracted by her memories, Oksa looked at him in bewilderment.

“Gus… this isn’t the time…” she murmured, trying to chase away thoughts of her mother’s face.

“Gus is right for once,” added Tugdual, glancing coolly at her.

“If I need your opinion, I’ll ask for it, okay?” retorted Gus, holding himself upright on his father’s arm. “I’m sorry, Oksa. It’s all my fault. I’m to blame for everything. I had to go and look at the picture. I should’ve resisted the temptation and run away, but I didn’t. I wanted to prove how strong I was when I’m just a nobody! Do you hear: I AM A NOBODY! I’m the biggest failure on earth. The only thing I’m good for is handing my best friend, father and friends to a psychopathic entity on a plate.”

“Ooohhh! You’re starting to get on my nerves!” cried Oksa, trying desperately hard to ignore the fact that Gus might be laying it on thick just to annoy her.

“There’s no denying that it wasn’t a very bright move on your part,” remarked Tugdual scornfully. “Then again… what else could we expect from someone like you?”

“Tugdual!” snapped Oksa indignantly.

“You’d better shut up!” replied Gus angrily. “After all, we know what you’re capable of, don’t we…”

Tugdual whirled round.

“Is that right? What am I capable of, then?” he asked curtly.

“Well, for starters, what about those daft rituals with your Goth friends sitting round a tasty bowl of soup made from rat and toad offal?” hissed Gus.

Tugdual went white, his eyes darkened and his lips tightened into a thin line. Oksa didn’t know what to think. She was at a loss: were the
two boys just pretending? Had they joined forces to annoy her? Or had exhaustion caused them to drop their polite façades?

“You’re disgusting!” continued Gus to Tugdual, who stood there unmoving, his hands balled into fists against his thighs.

“It’s better than being mediocre,” retorted the young man. “Anyway, some people around here don’t seem to think I’m disgusting, if you get my drift.”

“Well, I’d rather be mediocre than a lousy Werewall! An ally of
tarry-nosed
freaks who hoover up other people’s feelings.”

Tugdual glared at him haughtily. Oksa looked back and forth between them, her hand clamped over her mouth, horrified by this barrage of insults. Surely they didn’t dislike each other this much? Gus wasn’t like that and Tugdual was much too proud to be this nasty. Then again, could they be putting on an act because of their terrible plight? Oksa couldn’t dismiss that thought, which stopped her from doing or saying anything. She just stood there helplessly, paralysed by doubt.

“Well, you said it,” continued Tugdual, “you’re a nobody. No one can say you aren’t perceptive, at least.”

“Aaarghhhh!” screamed Gus, mustering his last reserves of strength to fling himself at Tugdual.

Tugdual seemed to expect this reaction. Far from being surprised, he raised his hand and sent Gus flying to the dusty ground with a perfect Knock-Bong. Pierre cursed and rushed over to his son, while the other Runaways watched the scene unfold in amazement. Seething with anger, Gus refused his father’s helping hand and struggled unsteadily to his feet. Hampered by extreme physical weakness, he launched himself again at Tugdual, who eyed him with cold indifference. Pavel made as if to stand between the two boys, but Abakum stopped him.

“Have I upset the nobody?” challenged Tugdual, stretching out his hand to perform another Knock-Bong.

“Shut up, you weirdo!” retorted Gus. “You may be stronger than me, but you’re as despicable as McGraw and his clan. And, you know what,
I’ve always wondered if you weren’t a mole, passing on everything you hear from us…”

Tugdual visibly paled. The veins on his neck stood out, pulsing with annoyance, and he looked on the point of exploding with anger.

“You’re the one who got us into this mess,” he retorted bitterly, “so what makes you think you have any right to add your two pennyworth? Have you already forgotten what you said a few minutes ago? You were snivelling because it’s your fault we’re all here, remember? Do I really have to you remind you who’s to blame?”

Oksa couldn’t think straight any more. She could see the two boys were heading for the point of no return and she was scared that one of them might say something unforgivable that would scar the other for ever.

“STOP IT!” she screamed, gasping for breath.

Tugdual turned to look at her, while Gus staggered with exhaustion.

“Why, Lil’ Gracious?” he asked, sounding suddenly gentle. “Are you afraid your friend can’t take the truth?”

Oksa met Tugdual’s steely blue eyes, which stood out even more against his pale, drawn face. He stood motionless in front of her, his tall, dark figure silhouetted against the streaked sky, preparing to deliver the blow that would finish Gus off for good. Her eyes pleaded with him not to say the words she feared so much, the words he could never take back. Over their heads, an enormous black cloud was forming, sizzling with electricity that was discharged in brilliant flashes of lightning, black as onyx. She looked up and saw Tugdual do the same. Their eyes met again and, without knowing if he was driven by rage or an instinct for survival, Oksa realized that there was nothing she could do to melt his icy resolve.

“If you’re so clever, perhaps you’d like to remind us all whose fault it was that the Lunatrixa died?” he sneered spitefully at Gus.

Oksa didn’t see Gus faint with shock at these words, because she’d already launched herself at Tugdual’s throat, roaring like an angry lioness.

“Why did you have to say that?” she cried. “WHY?”

Tugdual did nothing to defend himself and the force of Oksa’s rage sent them both crashing to the ground. The Young Gracious began punching Tugdual’s chest and scratching at his face, crying with anger. They were surrounded by clouds of burning dust but, lost in the heat of the moment, neither of them felt the pain.

“Why couldn’t you just keep quiet?” yelled Oksa, sobbing violently and gasping for breath. “You’re horrible! Do you hear? Horrible!”

Tugdual couldn’t stand it any longer. He caught hold of her wrists tightly and then, with a swift movement, rolled Oksa onto her back and held her there. This only made her more angry.

“You’re hurting me!” she screamed, as a flash of black lightning ripped through the sky. “I hate you! I HATE YOU!”

“No, you don’t…” murmured Tugdual, bending down towards her.

She tried to wriggle free of this confusing and infuriating embrace, but she wasn’t strong enough.

“No, you don’t…” repeated Tugdual, his face so close to hers that she could feel his incredibly cold breath. His light touch was enough to send a bolt of electricity down her spine from head to foot. She froze for a few seconds, held by Tugdual’s hypnotic gaze, feeling torn between two conflicting emotions: an uncontrollable urge to sink her teeth into him and an even stronger desire to pull him closer. Without really understanding why, she suddenly thought of Gus and this immediately refocused her mind on the matter in hand.

“Why did you have to say that to him?” she repeated. “It was so cruel. And unfair!”

She could hardly breathe, she was so angry. Tugdual sighed deeply and sat up.

“It was just a tiny wound to his ego. He’ll recover, Lil’ Gracious!” he said, smiling provocatively. “And look, it was worth it, wasn’t it?”

A large drop splashed onto Oksa’s forehead. She looked up at the overcast sky in wonderment. A few seconds later the heavens opened and the exhausted, dehydrated Runaways were drenched by heavy
rain. Oksa propped herself up on her elbows with a tentative laugh. All around her, the Runaways were grinning and greedily holding their faces up to the downpour. Oksa looked around for Gus: he’d regained consciousness and his father was holding him up by the shoulders. Their heads were tipped back and they were both drinking. Oksa was struck by how fragile Gus looked—his ebony hair fanned out over the damp fabric of his shirt, which clung to the bony contours of his back. She lay down on the muddy ground next to Tugdual, who was sitting there with his forearms resting on his knees. She closed her eyes and let the miraculous rain trickle over her exhausted body, feeling it soothe away her tiredness. Her tears mingled with the raindrops. They’d survived by the skin of their teeth! But at what cost? She was too tired and too happy to think about it. She felt a hand take hers. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know it was Tugdual. With an enigmatic smile on his lips, he’d stretched out in the mud beside her, his face turned towards the sky and the rain, which was still falling heavily. Surprising herself, Oksa didn’t pull her hand away. Was it because she was tired? She didn’t think so. And, although she should have enjoyed the providential shower with Gus, she shut her eyes and lay there next to the boy who was holding her hand so gently and so firmly.

T
HE GIANT REPTILE OPENED ONE EYE AND LIFTED A LEG
to brush away the water dripping on its crested head. The rain was streaming into the fissure where it had been asleep for ages, carrying with it small pebbles and a great deal of fine earth. Rain? The reptile hadn’t seen rain for so long… not since the Wickedesses had forced the Soul-Searcher to do their evil bidding. Intrigued, it stood up on its short legs and stretched its head towards the opening of the fissure. It could hear human voices! It picked up some delicious aromas, confirming what it had dared not hope: there were people on the surface. With a little luck, they were young and tender. All its senses sharpened, the reptile licked its chops with a long forked tongue. Clinging to the earthen walls of the fissure with its talons, it began to climb, its nostrils quivering at the mouth-watering smells filtering down from above.

Lying in the mud, surrendering to the rain falling over her body, Oksa gradually calmed down. Tugdual was still holding her hand and she’d done nothing to stop him. She had the nagging feeling that, for the first time in her life, she wasn’t exactly being a good friend to Gus. Despite her forceful intervention on his behalf, there was no doubt she’d chosen Tugdual over him. Did she have any qualms about that? It felt so good
lying there with Tugdual, raindrops bouncing off her body and quenching her thirst. But why was she so happy? Was it because she’d saved the Runaways or because she was close to Tugdual? Her forehead creased in a worried frown. This was not the time or the place to think about it, she decided, confused by the probable answer. She took a deep breath, focusing on the undulations of her Curbita-Flatulo, and let herself enjoy the moment.

“Oksa! Whatever you do, don’t move!” Oksa opened her eyes.

“Stay very still!” continued Gus urgently. “Don’t make a noise!”

The girl lay there, gazing at the rain falling from the dark sky onto the Barrens.

“What’s the matter?” she whispered.

All she heard was a loud roar that sounded like a tiger growling.

“Pavel! NO!” shouted Abakum.

Oksa jumped up. Pavel, borne aloft by his Ink Dragon with its massive wings outspread, was fighting a hideous twenty-foot-long creature, which looked like a giant chameleon and was a sickening fluorescent green.

“It’s a Leozard!” cried Abakum. “Quick, my friends! We have to help Pavel!”

The Ink Dragon’s fire didn’t seem to be having much effect on the Leozard, nor did it look afraid as Oksa’s father blasted flames at the horny crest bristling along its spine; it kept swiping at the Ink Dragon as it drew closer and closer, trying to catch it in the air.

“Dad! Be careful!” screamed Oksa.

Her warning came too late: blinded by the dragon’s flames, Pavel was unable to dodge a talon which raked across his stomach. He gave a hoarse cry as blood spurted onto the Leozard’s muzzle. The creature greedily licked it off, while the dragon turned back to ink on Pavel’s back, bringing him crashing down in the mud. Abakum brought his
Granok-Shooter to his mouth and fired an Arborescens, then two Colocynthises. But the Granoks just bounced off the Leozard’s back like raindrops, as if the vile creature were Granok-proof. The Leozard gave a faint smile—Oksa could have sworn it—and its yellow eyes gazed avidly at the Young Gracious. Then, with surprising speed, it pounced on her. She toppled over backwards with the creature’s body on top of her, although it was careful not to crush her. Oksa’s face was only a couple of inches from the Leozard’s filthy teeth, and she almost choked on its fetid breath. She heard the Runaways screaming and glimpsed Gus’s tatty trainers frantically kicking the monster’s flanks. The creature raised its head in irritation and sent the annoying human flying with a swipe of its foot. Oksa saw Gus’s body land a few yards away. Then the Leozard turned back to its main concern—the girl who was about to make a tasty meal…

“Get off me, you filthy creature!” she screamed, struggling to free herself.

The Leozard’s only answer was to treat her to another blast of putrid breath. Oksa launched a furious Knock-Bong at the creature, catching it in the jaw. The impact forced the green monster’s head backwards and Oksa had time to glimpse Abakum’s face between its forelegs.

“Hang in there!” he shouted. “Attack its abdomen with Fireballisticos—that’s its weak spot.”

Despite her terror, Oksa concentrated on the fire she felt rising up inside her—she was fighting for her life, after all. Raising her palms towards the monster’s breast, she saw a flame begin to lick at the thick skin. It wasn’t anywhere near enough though.

“Don’t stop, Oksa!” screamed Pavel, attacking the Leozard’s muzzle and eyes. “You’re doing great!”

Struggling for breath, but with her heart full of hatred, the girl
redoubled
her efforts. The flames grew stronger, giving off a fearsome heat, and Oksa began to hope she might actually get out of this predicament alive. The monster’s thick hide began to melt as if a blowtorch had been
turned on it. Instinctively, she rolled to one side to escape the horrible creature as it collapsed with a groan, consumed by relentless flames.

“What was that thing?” she asked, after a few minutes of dazed silence.

“A Leozard,” replied Abakum, his eyes riveted on the enormous pile of smoking ash that had been the monster. “The Leozard was the result of interbreeding between a lizard and a lion, centuries ago. It has the behaviour and appearance of a lizard and the dietary preferences of a lion.”

“Great!” exclaimed Oksa. “Being devoured by a carnivorous lizard is hardly the most glamorous way to die. How do you know all this anyway?”

The Fairyman stroked his short beard thoughtfully.

“I’ve encountered Leozards before,” he said with a frown and a distant look in his eyes. “In the territory of the Distant Reaches.”

“You mean… in Edefia?” asked Oksa in amazement.

“I didn’t mean anything particular by it, my dear,” continued the old man.

“Edefia or not, we have to get out of here before we pay for it with our lives!” said Pavel briskly.

Oksa glanced over at her father. He was lying on the ground, where Reminiscens was applying Spinollias to his wound. He looked exhausted, but there was a steely determination in his eyes.

“Wait!” said Leomido, stopping them. “What Abakum has just said is very important.”

“What?” exclaimed Pavel, his eyes wide. “You don’t really think we’re in Edefia, do you?”

“Why not?” replied Leomido defensively.

The Runaways were struck silent with amazement. Besieged by a host of conflicting thoughts, Oksa gazed at them in turn. Leomido, Reminiscens and Pierre looked hopeful; Abakum had withdrawn into his shell like an oyster, his face expressionless; beside him, Pavel’s tense features betrayed his annoyance; Oksa could only see Gus’s back. He was hunched over, probably from weariness and from being thrown through the air. The Incompetent was clinging to him and watching him
admiringly. Everyone was considering this far-fetched theory, except for Tugdual. Oksa turned round, her senses alert. Tugdual wasn’t far away—just a few yards behind her, crouched near the smoking skeleton of the Leozard.

“What about you, Lil’ Gracious?” he asked. “What do you think?”

“We’re not in Edefia,” she said, louder than intended. The Runaways raised their heads and stared at her.

“What makes you say that?” asked Reminiscens kindly.

Oksa didn’t even have to think about it:

“If we were in Edefia, I’d sense it.”

“The Young Gracious is right,” said the Squoracle, poking its head out of Abakum’s jacket. “Edefia is still far away. Stop wasting time on foolish hopes and put some thought into getting out of here!”

For the first time since his argument with Tugdual, Gus looked at Oksa. She met his eyes and was surprised to see no resentment in them. Perhaps she’d been imagining things after all: Gus and Tugdual didn’t really hate each other, they’d just joined forces to make her lose her temper so that she’d unleash the storm. At least, that was what she hoped…

“Oksa, you’re turning into a master ninja!” exclaimed Gus, walking over to her, followed by the Incompetent. “You realize you totally flattened a giant lizard, don’t you?”

“I didn’t flatten it,” replied Oksa, delighted at this suspension of
hostilities
. “I burned it to a crisp! That’ll teach it to mess with me.”

Gus roared with laughter, which set Oksa off. When he stopped
suddenly
and grimaced, rubbing his back, she was alarmed:

“Are you injured?”

“No… but it would be nice if certain people would refrain from propelling me through the air,” he remarked, glaring at Tugdual.

So much for Oksa’s theory that the two boys had been play-acting.

“It would also be nice if your bat would stop smirking at me!” added Gus, destroying any hope of a lasting ceasefire.

“Don’t call him a ‘bat’,” retorted Oksa, as neutrally as she could. Gus
sighed grumpily.

“I’ll try… but I’m not promising anything. At all. I’m warning you now!” he snarled, brushing back his hair. “And I’ll give you one piece of advice for free: don’t trust that freak. He isn’t what he seems. There’s something really creepy about him.”

“Have we arrived in Edefia?” asked the Incompetent suddenly, still clinging to Gus. “What excellent news! I know an old lady who’ll be very happy to hear it. What’s her name again?”

Glad that she and Gus were back on speaking terms and that the subject had been changed so hilariously, Oksa burst out laughing, followed by all the Runaways. The Squoracle popped out its little head and squawked:

“What a dimwit!”

“I agree,” said the Incompetent, oblivious to the fact that the tiny hen had been talking about it. “Did you see how ugly it was? Such a spiny hide! Such a hideous green colour! Where’s it gone, anyway?”

The Squoracle sighed, raising its eyes skywards, and nestled back inside Abakum’s jacket. “Let me know when it manages to understand anything,” it clucked in resignation.

“The dimwit is over there!” Oksa told the Incompetent, pointing to the pile of smoking ash.

“Oh. Is it playing hide and seek? What fun!”

Bent over double, Gus wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

“I love it!” he snorted.

“It’s very entertaining, isn’t it?” added the slow-witted creature. “And, you must admit, the smoking camouflage is very clever…”

Despite the tense situation, the Runaways were all laughing. Even Pavel couldn’t help crying with laughter.

“Now I know why we brought it along: it’s a great morale-raiser!” giggled Oksa, holding her sides.

“And we certainly need it,” said Tugdual gloomily. “Just look what’s heading our way.”