The Forest of Lost Souls (24 page)

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Authors: Anne Plichota

BOOK: The Forest of Lost Souls
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T
UGDUAL
DESCENDED STEADILY, USING THE TINY CREVICES
in the limestone wall as footholds, feeling more like a cross between a spider and a bat than ever. His eyes soon adjusted to the dark, allowing him to see as clearly as a cat at night, while his hands and feet easily found purchase in the rock. He moved steadily and gracefully, as if climbing down sheer walls barehanded came naturally. Most people would have felt increasingly nervous as the mouth of the fissure receded into the distance, but Tugdual wasn’t like most people: his self-confidence grew the deeper he went, boosting his muscle power and strengthening his resolve. Although the mauve sky laden with metallic clouds was no more than a thin line above his head, he felt a mounting sense of exultation. He didn’t hate Gus, even though everyone, including Gus, thought he did. He was exasperated by him, which was totally different—perhaps worse. Gus had certainly done nothing but cause trouble and lead the Runaways into all kinds of danger. And who was in the front line? Oksa, his grey-eyed Lil’ Gracious. Oksa with her ninja skills and merry laugh. The Last Hope, protected by the Ageless Ones and the Runaways. Her deep bond with Gus also annoyed him. Tugdual was slowly realizing that their friendship, solid as the rock he was climbing down, was one of those things he’d never experience. He was too weird to have friends. Too different. Too much of a freak. The only friends he’d ever made had been weak, easily influenced kids who’d idolized him because they’d
thought he was doing black magic. You couldn’t even call them friends, really—they were more like puppets. Even his parents had washed their hands of him by sending him to live with his grandparents. He knew, too, that he didn’t have the unanimous support of the small community of Runaways. He had no illusions about that: even though Abakum had agreed to take him under his wing, he was aware that many of the others put up with him out of affection for Brune and Naftali and not because they felt any liking for him. He’d decided he wouldn’t let it get to him any more—he’d positively welcome other people’s resentment, distrust or hostility. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” he often told himself, and it didn’t really matter whether he was being deadly serious or sarcastic. He’d accepted who he was when he realized he couldn’t be any different. Anyway, it hadn’t stopped a certain someone from liking him…

“You’re almost halfway there, grandson of the Knuts!” suddenly called the Tumble-Bawler shrilly.

“Hello! What are you doing down here?”

“The Young Gracious sent me to find out if you’re okay.”

“Cool!” replied Tugdual, half-smiling in a darkness so thick it could be cut with a knife.

“She sends her encouragement and this Reticulata filled with water to quench your thirst,” continued the creature, holding out a grapefruitsized jellyfish to Tugdual.

Tugdual jammed two fingers into a crevice and stood on an outcrop no larger than his big toe. He spotted the puffing Tumble-Bawler
carrying
the Reticulata and relieved it of its load, greedily gulping down the cool water.

“I needed that! Please thank the Lil’ Gracious.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Tumble-Bawler flew back the way it had come, leaving Tugdual smiling with intense satisfaction.

“You certainly fell a long way…” Gus jumped with a cry of surprise.

“Tugdual?” he stammered.

“In person!” Tugdual announced.

“You scared me half to death! I heard something moving and I thought it was another of those hideous lizards. You might have warned me!”

“I’ll try to remember next time,” said Tugdual, joining Gus on his tiny platform. “You really can’t see in the dark, can you?”

“Ha-ha! Very funny!” snapped Gus bad-temperedly. “Neither can the five or so billion other human beings on Earth.”

Tugdual smiled at this snub.

“What you meant was… hi, it’s so nice to see you again!” he said cheerfully.

“Sorry,” muttered Gus with bad grace. “Hi. And thank you.”

“Whatever… Why don’t we skip the niceties and get straight down to the small matter of rescuing you. Here’s my plan: I’ll fire some Arborescens above us to create a ladder of creepers which you can climb. The Croakettes will help by holding you up by your shoulders and you can follow me. Okay?”

“Um… there’s just one small problem. As you so tactfully pointed out, I can’t see in the dark.”

“How about this?” asked Tugdual. He launched a Polypharus into the air, immediately filling the shaft with a dazzling light.

Gus looked round, blinking.

“Ugh… it’s really scary down here!”

“Shall we go?” asked Tugdual impatiently, flattening himself against the wall, ready to start climbing.

“Um… there’s another problem.”

“What now?”

“I’m not very good at climbing.”

Tugdual sighed and looked at him frostily.

“Is there anything you can do? Apart from getting on my nerves, I mean.”

“You seem to forget that I’m only human,” replied Gus crossly. “Not a species of bat!”

“Uh oh,” sneered Tugdual. “His Lordship is bringing out the big guns. Come on, we don’t have any time to lose. I spotted an enormous Leozard asleep in a hole and I wouldn’t like to arouse his appetite, if you get my meaning.”

“Is that true?”

“What do you think?” retorted Tugdual.

While Gus was seething with doubt, Tugdual took out his Granok-Shooter and fired an Arborescens at the rock face. A long, gleaming, yellowish creeper immediately shot into the stifling air of the fissure and floated there for a second before embedding its tiny tendrils in the stone. Tugdual grabbed the Polypharus and illuminated the dark shaft as best he could: the creeper had climbed about seventy feet while they watched. He whispered again in his Granok-Shooter and aimed it at Gus. This time, two tiny winged frogs shot out, flew over to Gus and grabbed him by the shoulders to carry him up to the creeper.

“We’re off!” exclaimed Tugdual, climbing the wall with his bare hands.

The ascent seemed to last for hours, particularly for Gus, who was finding it harder than he’d have cared to admit. Tugdual had his work cut out too. Besides repeatedly firing Granoks, he’d made it a point of honour to make sure nothing happened to Gus and it was exhausting keeping an eye on every clumsy move he made. As Gus had warned Tugdual, he wasn’t very good at climbing, particularly in such difficult conditions. It was much easier scaling the wall using the Arborescens rather than the rocky outcrops, but they were very slimy, which made them slippery as well as sticky. Fortunately, the Croakettes provided invaluable support, lifting him and preventing him from falling to his death. The Tumble-Bawler
kept appearing at regular intervals to ask after their progress and bring encouragement from the Runaways.

“The Young Gracious says keep going, you’re almost at the top!”

“Thank her very much from us,” panted Tugdual. “How far now, Tumble?”

“A little more than 787 feet, grandson of the Knuts.”

Gus groaned. Over 787 feet… His lungs were on fire, his muscles felt like lead and his eyes were burning from the dust, which was as hot as it had been earlier—not to mention that he was continually battling an overwhelming desire to sleep. In fact, his struggle to stay awake had taken priority over everything and he was more afraid of drifting off than falling into the bottomless depths below.

“Aren’t you sleepy, Tugdual?”

The spider-boy turned round sharply and looked at him in concern.

“Not at all,” he replied, thinking there was no point adding that he could go for several days without sleep. Tugdual wondered how long it had been since Gus had slept and felt a sudden surge of pity. He’d kept pace with them from the start and no one had seemed to question whether he was coping. Tugdual was surprised to catch himself feeling sorry for Gus.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” muttered Gus.

“I think you’re being really brave.”

“Thanks,” replied Gus seriously. “You wouldn’t have something on you to wake me up, would you?” Tugdual thought for a moment and rummaged through his pockets, but to no avail.

“Sorry, I don’t. But take a look at the wall opposite. That should stop you dozing off.”

Gus turned round, holding tight to the Arborescens, and noticed a large hole in the wall. Deep within, the now familiar outline of an enormous slumbering Leozard was slowly rising and falling. Gus almost let go of the creeper in surprise. Tugdual obviously hadn’t been joking earlier…

“We should probably get out of here sooner rather than later, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Too right!” replied Gus, starting to climb again.

Tugdual and Gus were very relieved when they could glimpse mauve sky from inside the fissure. The Runaways waiting around the edge had been as quiet as they could after they’d learnt from the Tumble-Bawler that a Leozard was asleep in the depths, although they couldn’t make out anything in the darkness. According to the Tumble-Bawler’s best estimate, Tugdual and Gus only had about 130 feet left to climb, which was a good thing since Tugdual had just fired his last Polypharus. Luckily daylight was now filtering down and bathing them in a purple glow. Tugdual could see that Gus was battling tiredness and muscle fatigue, and continuing their ascent in total darkness would have endangered everything they’d achieved so far. It was a close-run thing…

“Almost there, Gus!”

He seized his Granok-Shooter to fire another Arborescens, but nothing happened. He tried again with the Croakettes—no joy there either. He was out of Granoks. Tugdual thought hard: he didn’t have many options. He could either ask Abakum to help with his “telescopic” arms, or manage by his own devices. Pride won out and he chose the second alternative.

“Gus,” he murmured. “We have a small problem.”

Gus stopped climbing, clinging to the last slimy creeper.

“Let me guess… you don’t have any Polypharuses left? Don’t worry. We can see daylight now!”

“It’s a little more complicated than that…”

Gus tensed.

“Oh, I get it… you don’t have any Arborescens left either, is that it?”

“No Arborescens and no Suspensas either,” announced Tugdual.

The still-vivid memory of the sleeping Leozard stopped Gus from crying out.

“What?” he hissed through gritted teeth. “You mean we’re stuck here, so near the top?”

“You’re stuck here,” remarked Tugdual nastily.

“Thanks for clarifying that tiny detail. Much appreciated!” snapped Gus. “Well, go on then. Just leave me behind. I’m no use to anyone anyway.”

Tugdual sighed.

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” retorted Gus. “Useless? Pathetic? A total loser? By Runaway standards, ABSOLUTELY!”

“Whatever. Your inferiority complex is getting to be a real pain,”
muttered
Tugdual. “Just hang on tight to me and we’ll get this climb over and done with.”

Gus looked at him open-mouthed.

“You mean… you’re going to carry me to the top?” Tugdual looked up.

“What choice do I have?”

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