The Forest of Lost Souls (33 page)

“W
HAT A MOODY GIT,” SIGHED
T
UGDUAL, FLOPPING
into an armchair and draping one leg over the armrest.

“Are you happy now?” said Oksa miserably, her fists clenched.

Tugdual laughed. Oksa refused to look at him, feeling uncertain: she really liked him, but he got on her nerves too. She didn’t know how to react. She could hardly give him a well-deserved slap while she was still replaying the memory of his kiss! Everything was so complicated… He was impossible to read—he could be sensitive then cruel, comforting then intimidating. And, what was worse, she felt a connection to him which was stronger than any feeling she’d ever experienced. Stronger than her deep friendship for Gus—she’d just proved that.

“You know what they say,” continued Tugdual. “Nothing hurts like the truth.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Oksa muttered with a shrug.

“Are you cross with me, Lil’ Gracious?”

“I’ve every reason to be, haven’t I?”

As fast as a snake, Tugdual caught her arm as she was about to leave the room. He jumped up and turned her round without letting go, his face close to hers.

“No, you haven’t…” he whispered, brushing her lips lightly with his.

Instinctively she tried to pull away, but Tugdual was holding her too tightly. A deep, uncontrollable rage swept away her uncertainties and she sent Tugdual flying to the other side of the room with a heartfelt Knock-Bong. Zoe, who’d been lying on her front by the fire and who’d witnessed the scene, gave a scream of surprise as a vase and a lamp smashed to the floor. The knowing look in her eyes was too much for the Young Gracious to bear, so she whirled round and ran upstairs to her room, her thoughts in turmoil.

About ten minutes later, someone tapped three times on her door, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted, convinced it was Tugdual.

“It’s me, Oksa,” said Zoe.

Pushing down the handle, Zoe opened the door and slipped in, silently as a cat. She looked so fragile with her honey-coloured hair tied back in a ponytail… She tentatively walked over to Oksa.

“I’m so confused, Zoe,” wailed Oksa, sitting at the foot of her bed with her head in her hands.

“I know… we all feel the same. It’s a difficult time.”

Zoe spoke softly, her voice sad and tremulous.

“It’s awful,” Oksa went on. “Everything’s such a mess and I don’t know whether I’m coming or going! We’ve just learnt some really important things about Edefia, the world’s on the verge of destruction, my mother’s in the hands of the Felons and I’m doing my utmost to make things worse! I’m not good enough—” She was trembling with annoyance.

“Not good enough for Gus?” asked Zoe pointedly.

“Do you think I’ve lost him?”

“You can’t lose him. He loves you.” Oksa looked at her in bewilderment.

“Why is it all happening now?” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Zoe,” she added, seeing her friend’s miserable expression.

She’d always suspected that her cousin was in love with Gus. If she was, then Zoe had to be finding the situation, and her confidences, unbearable. Oksa admired her courage and composure so much.

“What about you? How… how are you holding up?” she asked awkwardly.

“Not very well,” replied Zoe quietly, looking down, which made Oksa feel even more guilty.

“Can I give you some advice?” continued Zoe, turning the
conversation
back to Oksa. “Be careful with Tugdual.”

“He’s not who people think he is!” protested Oksa, blushing.

“And what if he’s not who
you
think he is?”

“He isn’t a Felon…”

“No one said he was. But he’s older than you… he’s just playing with you. Look at how he makes you act. Look at how you’ve been behaving since you got… closer to him.”

“But I haven’t changed! I’m just the same! You’re only saying that because you don’t think I’m paying you enough attention, aren’t you? I really want to help you, but I don’t know how,” snapped Oksa, losing her temper.

“That isn’t the problem, Oksa, don’t deliberately confuse the issue,” replied Zoe, lowering her large brown eyes. “No one can do anything to help me. I may come to terms with all this in time. But, for now, just leave me alone, that’s what I want.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say,” whispered Oksa, feeling upset.

Zoe stood up, her expression unreadable.

“Don’t you realize that Gus went out on his own, even though we’re not allowed to, and you didn’t do anything to stop him? You’d never have let him to do that, before…”

Oksa went white: her friend was right.

“Don’t be a fool,” murmured Zoe.

She walked out of the room and shut the door quietly behind her, leaving the Young Gracious battling with her feelings.

Z
OE KNEW THEY WEREN’T ALLOWED OUT ON THEIR OWN
. Her gran Reminiscens reminded her of that several times a day… but this wasn’t the first time she’d disobeyed. On two occasions already she’d gone over the wall—or walked through it, to be more precise. After her unpleasant conversation with Oksa, she headed for the storeroom adjoining the kitchen which overlooked a secluded courtyard at the back of the house, and disappeared effortlessly through the red-brick wall. Outside, night was falling and the sky was bluish-grey verging on smoky black. Zoe took a deep breath to slow her heart, which was thudding against her chest. She thought about Gus and she felt miserable. She might as well give up now… Gus didn’t belong to her and never would, she knew that. The best-case scenario would be to stay his confidante, as she’d been over the past few days. He’d been wary of confiding in her at first, just dropping awkward hints about his unhappiness. Things had become easier and more natural as time went by and she’d been promoted from schoolmate to close friend. That was when everything had changed: her hopes had faded the better they’d got to know each other. Now her disappointment had given way to a deep, gnawing pain. Just one more reason to be unhappy. She looked up at the sky again and pictured Gus’s face. She imagined him sitting miserably in his room at home, a serious expression on his face. Nevertheless, she turned to walk in the opposite direction—towards
Hyde Park, where someone was waiting for her, someone who could change her life.

The park wasn’t well lit and the shadows of trees loomed over her, but Zoe wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t frightened of anything now—everything that had once scared her had already happened in the past few months: the thing she’d dreaded most was losing her loved ones. As she walked through the dark, she groaned softly as she remembered her parents. Her heart had been ripped to shreds when she’d realized she’d never see them again. She’d walked stiffly into the church for the funeral, her head held high, numbed by the pain and it had felt as if the service was nothing to do with her. It was as though none of it was true. She was going to wake up, open her eyes, hear her mother discussing the news on the radio and her father trying in vain to make her stop talking. She’d see them smile when she came into the kitchen. She was going to wake up and nothing would have changed. She’d believed that so fiercely… But nothing had gone back to the way it was before. Reminiscens had disappeared in her turn and the endless pain had taken hold, making her act like some kind of zombie. Gus and Oksa had been the only ones who’d managed to break through her shell. She loved both of them so much… in her own way and despite the McGraws and their relentless hatred. Then the Pollocks and the Runaways had taken her in, no questions asked. She’d discovered that happiness wasn’t completely out of reach—she could sometimes touch it with her fingertips. These brief interludes of affection had eased the pain and helped her to survive. It was because of the Runaways that she’d been reunited with her gran, whom they’d rescued from the clutches of the Soul-Searcher. Seeing her again had been the strangest experience of her life and also the most educational: it had shown her that, although blood ties are powerful, in the end your heart decides which side to take and who deserves your loyalty. Reminiscens,
despite her family bonds, had an enduring affection for those who’d saved her life and not just because of her Disimpicturement. Her attachment to them went deeper than that: Reminiscens was a Runaway by
conviction
and nothing in the world could make her go over to the Felons, led by her brother, who was so similar to her and yet so different. Zoe had understood that in the first few hours after the Ageless Ones’ terrible revelation. She’d been worried that her gran would choose family over friends, but Reminiscens had made it perfectly clear where she stood, which hadn’t surprised anyone. She hadn’t wavered for a second.

None of this had dispelled Zoe’s doubts about herself, though. In her heart of hearts, she felt ambivalent—torn between two camps—and the revelation about her strange and horrible origins had done nothing to help matters. Abakum and Reminiscens had tried their best to make her see that she shouldn’t feel ashamed about something that wasn’t her fault, but it was stronger than her: she owed her existence to the relationship between Leomido and Reminiscens. They were related to each other and the fact that they didn’t know at the time didn’t make it any less shameful in Zoe’s eyes. That was how Leomido had felt too… Still, Zoe knew how wrong her grandfather had been: nothing would have changed the way the Runaways felt. The revelation had simply fuelled their desire to fight the Felons and Ocious. It had never lessened their respect for Leomido. Had it been so hard for him to trust them? That was what Zoe had believed before. But now that she also knew what it was like to be unhappy in love, she understood him better. Some people aren’t strong enough to deal with the shame of being a helpless puppet in unscrupulous hands, and that had been the case with Leomido. Despite the passing years, despite all his strength, he chose death rather than risk seeing the expression in the eyes of the woman he loved when she found out the truth. He’d held his resolve to the end, humbly enjoying their emotional reunion. Leomido and Reminiscens had unwittingly starred in their own tragedy, but what Zoe felt now was worse than that: she saw herself as a piece of perfectly ripe fruit, tempting at first
but rotten to the core, squirming with maggots when you took a bite. A Firmhand-Werewall-Gracious who didn’t belong anywhere—or rather, who belonged to two sides.

She walked towards the dark coppice, where tall grasses were swaying. It was in a more natural, unspoilt area of the park that was not so heavily landscaped. An unusually fierce wind was blowing, as if a storm were brewing, and Zoe thought briefly about the chaos unleashed on the world. Above her, the cloud-streaked sky looked ominous. She shivered, then continued pushing through the agitated undergrowth. She scrutinized the foliage carefully. At last she spotted him leaning against a tree. They walked towards each other and hugged warmly.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to get away,” he said quietly.

“Nothing would have stopped me,” replied Zoe. “You’ve changed so much!” she added, taking a step back to examine her second cousin.

Mortimer McGraw no longer looked anything like Oksa’s Neanderthal: the thickset boy with coarse features was now much more athletic in build, conjuring up the powerful muscles of the jaguar rather than the brute strength of the rhinoceros. In seven months, he’d grown a good four inches and his body was leaner and more brawny, while his face was thinner and tougher. He looked a lot like his father. That’s what Zoe had thought when she’d seen him again four days ago. Zoe and her class had been on a school trip to the British Museum. Mortimer had boldly approached her when she’d been standing in front of Cleopatra’s mummy. Zoe had been amazed to find herself face to face with the boy who’d been like a big brother to her. Until he’d decided to abandon her… She’d been so surprised that she’d forgotten all the bitterness and incomprehension of the past seven months. “Meet me in Hyde Park on Tuesday evening in the trees to the west of the Albert Memorial,” he’d whispered, before disappearing into the museum’s corridors.

The next four days had felt interminable. She was wracked with
uncertainty
. Why had Mortimer come back? Did he want to take her back to the Felons? After all, she was pretty strong… Or did he intend to ask her to take over from Mercedica as a spy? Had he come back because he needed something or because he cared about her? She hadn’t heard from him for seven long months. Not a word. So why now? But, despite all her questions and doubts, her heart was pounding with fierce hope mingled with profound sadness as she met Mortimer’s eyes in the cold moonlight.

“How are you?” he asked, leading her under a large oak. Zoe didn’t know how to answer, because she wasn’t fine, but she wasn’t all that bad either.

“How about you?” she asked, sidestepping the question.

“I’m good! My dad… isn’t dead, you know…”

“Yes, I know. And my gran’s home too.”

Mortimer lightly stroked her cheek with his fingertips.

“Are they taking good care of you?”

“The Pollocks? Yes, they’re very kind. I’m part of the family now.”

“Do you get on well with Oksa?”

“She’s my best friend.”

Zoe looked down, surprised by the spontaneity of her answer. She’d said it without thinking, which only proved how sincere she was. Yes, the Pollocks were taking very good care of her and, yes, Oksa was her best friend. In spite of everything.

“How are things on the island?” asked Zoe in her turn. Mortimer’s eyes darkened.

“You know about that?”

“I think we know as much as you do.”

“Sounds like it…”

There was another silence. Buffeted by the fierce wind, the two cousins studied each other a little defiantly.

“Why did you come?” said Zoe. “Did your father send you?”

“You may not realize this, but my father loves you like a daughter.”

Zoe felt sick.

“Your father doesn’t love anyone, Mortimer,” she retorted, trembling. “He used me the way he uses everyone.”

“And you think your friends, the Pollocks, aren’t using you too?”

“Whatever, they never forced me to poison an innocent woman…”

Zoe couldn’t forget about the poisonous soap which had caused Marie Pollock’s illness. She’d feel guilty about that for the rest of her life.

“Come with me, Zoe.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m begging you. Please.”

Zoe couldn’t speak. Mortimer watched her gravely; he seemed so sincere.

“You’re not like them, and you know it,” he continued. “You’re like me, a Firmhand and a Werewall. The blood of Ocious runs through our veins.”

“—and of Malorane,” broke in Zoe.

“Malorane was weak. She chose the wrong side. Without pressure from her family and the High Enclave, we wouldn’t be in this mess today. It was her foolish opposition to our clan that caused the Chaos.”

Zoe stared at him in bewilderment.

“You… you can’t possibly believe that!” she whispered. “The Chaos was caused by the Felons and their power-mad ambitions, no one else!”

“Why not face facts, Zoe? Why deny the obvious? The strongest always win, that’s been the way of the world since the dawn of time.”

“And you think you’re the strongest?”

“Of course! And you know it. That’s why I’m here and why you’re going to come with me.”

Zoe shrank into herself miserably.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you and, if you’re with us, you won’t be in any danger.”

“It’s too late, Mortimer,” she whispered.

“Why?” he protested.

“You shouldn’t have abandoned me. I was afraid, I didn’t know what was going on and you left me behind on my own in that freezing house. You promised you’d come back and I waited for days and days. But you didn’t. You lied to me! You didn’t give a damn if I was in danger then, I was the last of your worries… I could have died of sadness, on my own like a prize idiot, and you couldn’t have cared less!”

Zoe screamed those last few sentences with all the pent-up anger she’d felt during one of the toughest times of her life.

“Your father took my parents away from me, Mortimer,” she raged. “And he didn’t think twice about taking my gran, his own sister. Was he the one who gave her back? Were you? Was it one of your powerful friends? No! It was the people who’ve accepted me as one of their own. You’re right, though—I’m not like them. I have a dark side like your lot. I’m not pure like the Runaways. My heart is as black as my blood. It’s a fact, I can feel it inside me, eating away at me like acid. But I’m not coming with you. Seven months ago, I’d have followed you to hell and back, if you’d asked me. I loved you like a brother, Mortimer. Now, it’s too late.”

Mortimer gazed at her fiercely, looking smug.

“You’re like us, Zoe… your place is with your family.”