The Heart of Two Worlds (21 page)

“I
T MAY HAVE SUFFERED A LITTLE DAMAGE OVER THE YEARS
, but it’s still magnificent, isn’t it?” asked Ocious, addressing the question to the oldest among them.

The Glass Column rose in the centre of Thousandeye City—a vast cylinder reflecting the sky’s mottled clouds. Its crystal walls were supported by a complex framework of intricate steel spirals, which gave the building the appearance of a huge precious stone. The former exiles’ hearts had leapt in their chests on seeing the Column rising from the dusty ground. The youngest among them had only seen it through Dragomira’s Camereye, so their reaction was different, although just as strong.

The city spread out like a slumbering octopus from the base of the Column. The wood or glass structures were no more than two storeys high and all had large terraces and small plots of land which would have been attractive gardens a few years ago. It wasn’t hard to imagine the abundant vegetation that must have covered Thousandeye City once upon a time. Hundreds of bare trees stood in the courtyards and lined the streets, as they had around dry Lake Saga. Only a few patches of greenery—carefully tended vegetable plots—remained on some of the terraces. There was virtually no one around. The humming, seething yet perfectly ordered activity so characteristic of a thriving city seemed to have been extinguished and it was as if almost all the inhabitants had
gone to ground in their houses. Flying over Edefia, Oksa had glimpsed a few figures—a few anxious, hopeful faces turned inquisitively towards the sky. From the street, a little girl waved. “Who does she think she’s greeting?” wondered Oksa. “Does she know what’s happening?” The Young Gracious couldn’t help waving back, watched coldly by Ocious and his guards.

“You see, Ocious, respect and recognition cannot be earned by a show of strength,” remarked Naftali. “The people of Edefia will know whom to follow.”

“You’ve always been such an idealist!” sneered Ocious. “Strength is and always will triumph over the soundest moral principles.”

“That’s what the cruellest dictators have always thought until they were eliminated by their people like the vermin they are.”

Ocious couldn’t hold back an evil smile.

“If you think your threats worry me in the slightest, you’re going to be disappointed, my dear Naftali. Anyway, enough small talk—we’re here.”

The Felon landed at the base of the Column, followed by his clan and the Runaways. When the Gargantuhen planted its wide webbed feet on the ground, the creatures rushed over to cluster around Oksa.

“My Young Gracious encounters at last the location of her residence,” said the Lunatrix, looking up at the top of the Glass Column.

“A residence which is now mine, girlie, although you are, of course, a welcome guest,” corrected Ocious.

The Lunatrix looked at him with an expression of intense disapproval.

“The Glass Column belongs to the Gracious’s family and no one else.”

“And you would be well advised to treat our Young Gracious with the respect she deserves!” added the Getorix. “Only her closest friends and family may be so informal with her.”

“Tut, tut, I’ve upset the menagerie!” mocked Ocious. “But, my dear little servants, you should remember that I am closely related to her: you only have to look at our family tree to see that.”

“Machiavellian alliances are far from being true bonds,” objected Abakum before Reminiscens had time to react. “Now we’d like to rest, if you don’t mind.”

Ocious’s eyes narrowed to gleaming slits; then he turned to the main doors of the Column, guarded by about twelve men in leather armour. They stood up straighter, with chests puffed out and faces blank, as the Master of Edefia approached. When Oksa walked past, they glanced almost imperceptibly at her. Was it out of curiosity? Fear? Respect? Impossible to know. She kept walking, followed by the Runaways and the creatures. She caught a glimpse of a small cluster of people a few hundred feet away, attentively watching the scene. A cry rang out:

“Long live the New Gracious!”

The guards immediately turned to look threateningly at the group. Frowning with annoyance, Ocious gave a sign ordering them to ignore such demonstrations, then hurried into the Column. Sad and exhausted, Oksa and the Runaways entered an incredible hall paved with crystal, and the huge doors closed behind them.

The Column’s structure and interior design owed a great deal to the use of minerals, mainly precious stones, marble and glass. At the centre of the hall, which was filled with light, was a vast translucent staircase leading up to a cornice adorned with polished steel tracery. In one corner, water was flowing down a sloping section of wall to form a quietly murmuring water feature. The rest of the hall was left unembellished, which created a strangely harmonious effect. When Ocious’s booted feet broke the silence, they jumped, roused from their contemplation of this singular place, which some of them had thought they’d never see, or see again. The older Runaways seemed very moved. Even though they’d spent decades hoping to come back, even though they’d pictured
this moment so clearly in their heads, nothing could have prepared them for the overwhelming emotion of this return.

Oksa saw Abakum stagger. The Fairyman had paid such a high price to come back… Reminiscens hurried over to him and put her hand on his forearm. The old woman looked upset. Oksa found herself wondering whether Reminiscens had
really
wanted to come back to Edefia? Had she done it to avoid being alone? Was she there out of love or revenge? The Young Gracious shook her head, feeling out of sorts. Her gaze came to rest on Zoe, whose face was drawn with suffering and tiredness. Oksa met her eyes, but couldn’t tell what she was thinking: Zoe seemed to have absented herself. Tugdual, on the other hand, was examining everything. The Felons, the Runaways, Oksa, the splendid decor—nothing escaped his inquisitive gaze.

“There are a few important details that my Young Gracious should know,” the Tumble-Bawler broke in suddenly, fluttering above Oksa.

She held out her hand as a landing stage for the little messenger.

“The Glass Column initially rose to a height of 843 feet and had 55 floors. However, during the time of the Great Chaos, three floors were destroyed, including part of the Memorary and the Gracious’s quarters.”

“Why don’t we save the guided tour for later?” interrupted Ocious, “Let’s go straight to my private quarters.”

The creatures stirred restlessly, upset by his tone, which they felt lacked the proper deference. This didn’t escape the Felon.

“It’s fifty-seven years since any Gracious has entered this place,” he barked. “And for fifty-seven years who do you think has worked hard to maintain the splendid appearance of this residence? Who has enabled Edefia to survive? Was it any of you?”

These absurd questions startled everyone and begged some obvious answers…

“None of you was here to repair the damage caused by the Great Chaos, so wipe that indignant expression off your faces. This place is now mine by rights!” concluded Ocious.

Saying this, he waved his arm in Oksa’s direction to invite her over to the glass cubicles against one of the opalescent walls. Silently Oksa did as he wished, followed closely by the members of her clan, and entered what proved to be a lift. The car immediately shot up to the top of the tower, filled with blinding light. Fear of the unknown as well as the motion of the lift made Oksa feel dizzy, so she grasped her father’s hand and closed her eyes.

O
KSA HAD NEVER SEEN A ROOM LIKE THIS EXCEPT IN
films or her wildest daydreams. Although the years of hardship had left traces here and there, even the smallest touches oozed an understated, yet undeniable, luxury.

Stretched out on a giant bed strewn with masses of cushions and a feather-soft counterpane, Oksa was too tired to sleep. Too many emotions and too many worries to process… Lying there, she gazed in fascination at this new decor, which was so different from her usual surroundings. There was no doubt that the dark veined wood on the walls was from a precious species of tree. When she’d entered the room, Oksa couldn’t help running her fingertips over it to appreciate its velvety feel. It reminded her of butterfly wings. The floor was just as lavish, paved with gigantic turquoise slabs. The furnishings were unusual: the room was designed to be a haven of rest and some of it was given over to a large pool—Oksa had promised herself to take a dip as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

In the meantime, she simply admired the hypnotic shimmering of the water on the ceiling, almost in a state of torpor. She’d been thrilled with the adjoining bathroom, though, which was entirely decorated with slate, and boasted a rosewood bowl filled with all kinds of creams, oils and soaps. Some clothes had been left out for her, but Oksa had preferred
to put on the last clean pair of jeans and T-shirt in her rucksack. One whole wall of the main room was a bay window which afforded a
breathtaking
view of Thousandeye City and beyond. Apart from a mountain range that stood out against the horizon, everything was blanketed in dust. Sometimes massive plumes, raised by people employed in various activities, rose into the dark sky, then disappeared. Edefia no longer looked like a land of plenty.

“Would my Young Gracious like some information about what this land was like before?” asked the Tumble-Bawler.

Oksa looked at the little winged messenger, which once again had shown it had an excellent sense of timing.

“Absolutely, Tumble. Baba always talked about the luxuriant land of Edefia but… there’s nothing left!” she exclaimed with a wave of her hand at the arid countryside stretching as far as the eye could see.

The Tumble-Bawler nodded vigorously.

“What the Old Gracious told you was the truth: Edefia was a paradise extending for the equivalent of 74,565 square miles on the Outside. The mountains you see in the distance occupy western Edefia. That’s the Peak Ridge territory, which is hard to get to because its steep cliffs are made of a pure, almost transparent pink crystal, emerging from black rock so hard it’s virtually unusable. Do you see that summit rising above the others in the southern part of the range?”

Oksa went over to the bay window and screwed up her eyes to look at the mountains.

“That’s Mount Humongous,” said the Tumble-Bawler. “Aptly named, since it rises to an altitude of 42,579 feet.”

“But that’s enormous! It makes Everest look tiny!”

“Well, Everest certainly isn’t the Roof of the World. As you can imagine, the height of Mount Humongous makes it the coldest place in Edefia. You should visit the cave carved into the peak—the view is amazing and it feels as though you could almost touch the sky. You leave by riding hollowed-out logs down vast slides carved into the rock, it’s great fun.”

“I’m sure I’d love that,” said Oksa, engrossed in the Tumble-Bawler’s descriptions.

“At the southernmost point of this territory, lapis lazuli cliffs glow with remarkable brilliance. From the neighbouring region of Thousandeye City, you can see them lit by the setting sun—it’s a sight no one could ever tire of. There are countless cascades in the Peak Ridge mountains. The two most spectacular waterfalls, which plunge more than 16,500 feet, are the Silver Cascade and the Glitter Falls. I don’t know if they’re still there, given the drought here, but from what I know of the Outside, there are no waterfalls as high as these.”

“That’s for sure. What about Green-Mantle?” asked Oksa.

“Green-Mantle was Edefia’s lungs. It was nothing like that desert we flew over to get here… There were abundant dense, bushy forests. The most spectacular were the forests of gigantic Parasol trees, whose trunks could grow to a diameter of 160 feet and a height of 1,640 feet. Even the tallest American sequoias would have looked like shrubs beside them. These trees derived their name from their large parasol-shaped leaves. A single leaf could shelter forty people from the sun! When chewed for a long time, their bark would allow you to jump as high as the kangaroo in Australia. It was also used as a repellent for sugar-loving insects like ants… and the smallest ants here were on average three inches long.”

Oksa pulled a face, fervently hoping she’d never have to encounter one of those abnormally large specimens.

“There were smaller trees farther north in Green-Mantle: Majestics, for example, had very sturdy clover-shaped leaves. They produced beans weighing as much as six pounds each, which contained Zestillia, a substance used to make Gorgelettos.”

“Gorgelettos?”

“A mouth-watering invention by one of Edefia’s greatest ever gastronomers, a brilliant culinary inventor. These were ice creams that would acquire your favourite flavour, anything that set your taste buds tingling. If you fancied a passion fruit Gorgeletto, you merely had to
think about wanting it and your Gorgeletto would taste like passion fruit. If you decided to change the flavour, the Gorgeletto would adapt to whatever you wanted.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Oksa, imagining a raspberry-flavoured Gorgeletto.

“Another ancient species was the Broad-Leaved Ball tree with foliage shaped like a huge sphere. This was very popular with nesting birds and some Broad-Leaved Ball trees could house over 500 nests! Not far from Green-Mantle was the territory of the Distant Reaches, which was the home of wild animals like the fearsome blue rhinoceros with its nine-foot-long horn and the highly venomous black-and-white-striped zebra snake. But one of the most spectacular animals was the twenty-foot-long silver tiger, whose extraordinary pearly-white pelt was highly sought after a few centuries ago. The species is now on the verge of extinction, although the tiger still kills scores of reckless hunters keen to possess this legendary fur which is still believed to have magical properties.”

“Amazing,” whispered Oksa. “Do you think the Distant Reaches still exists?”

She wasn’t really interested in blue rhinoceroses or black-and-white-striped reptiles. No. Oksa was only concerned about the mysterious territory of the Distant Reaches because, according to Abakum, it was the one place in Edefia where Lasonillia, the Imperial Flower, grew. Marie had remained on the Outside, but that flower was still the only remedy that could cure her and Oksa wasn’t about to forget it.

“Of course,” replied the Tumble-Bawler, aware of her unspoken thoughts. “I could carry out a reconnaissance flight to see what the situation is, if you like.”

Oksa nodded, unable to speak because of the lump in her throat. The little creature respectfully stayed silent for a moment before continuing:

“To the east and west of Green-Mantle, vast lakes surrounded by lush vegetation were the main centres for fish-farming and seaweed-farming.
The Insiders were very fond of seaweed, you know. Around and beyond those lakes were areas devoted to growing cereals, such as Golden Pearl, which is like corn, except each grain is as big as an apricot.”

“Just imagine the size of the popcorn!” quipped Oksa.

“What a funny thought,” laughed the Tumble-Bawler. “They grew the same varieties of vegetable as the Outsiders, but they were fresher, more plentiful and bigger. A rich soil and a warm temperature that never got too hot—twenty-five to thirty degrees centigrade—are always conducive to farming. The carrots were three feet long, the potatoes a foot and a half in diameter and the strawberries weighed at least a pound… each strawberry, I mean. And no chemical fertilizers or pesticides were used! Energy was exclusively green: giant windmills on the plains, solar panels on all houses, and widespread use of geothermal and hydraulic energy. None of the vehicles, machinery or factories used polluting fuels. Just sunshine, wind or water.”

“Brilliant!” cried Oksa. “And… what about the people? I know there were four tribes…”

“That’s right, Young Gracious. The last census carried out before the Great Chaos recorded 16,245 people effectively spread across the four main tribes: Firmhands, Sylvabuls, Long-Gulches and Ageless Fairies.”

“Not to mention the Diaphans,” added Oksa.

The Tumble-Bawler couldn’t help shivering at the mention of the fifth tribe, which struck such fear into the hearts of Edefians and was the source of such shame.

“As in all societies, a small minority of people chose to live on the fringes or opted for a life of crime. Disagreements could also arise. However, the whole system was based on notions of self-sufficiency and the idea of matching need with available resources. And the Insiders lived in complete harmony—everyone got on well with each other, even though each tribe had its own characteristic features. As you know, the Firmhands have highly developed senses, like animals, particularly birds of prey. In Edefia, they’re renowned for their great physical strength,
which means they tend to gravitate towards the building trades, architecture, manufacturing and the processing of metal and glass, as well as stonemasonry. They are experts in science, chemistry and engineering: over 600 years ago, they discovered how to use solar energy to power flying machines, machinery and tools.”

“Better than Leonardo da Vinci!” exclaimed Oksa.

“Oh, but that inventor of genius was a great source of inspiration for the Firmhands. The Glass Column was governed by Gracious Laure-Amée at this period. Her Dreamflights often took her to Italy, to the studio of that brilliant visionary, and she made a few inspired suggestions to the best Firmhand engineers who carefully put da Vinci’s plans into action, using their own technology. But they were not only gifted in the fields of science and engineering, they also worked in mineralogy—they developed and perfected a body of remedies using stones 1,500 years ago, which has been such a useful addition to the Sylvabul pharmacopoeia. I don’t know how things are today but, before the Great Chaos, the Firmhands tended to live in the Peak Ridge territory in huge troglodytic dwellings in the cliffs, fashioned from precious stones.”

“They must have been magnificent!”

“They were, yes,” confirmed the Tumble-Bawler. “But the Sylvabuls were not to be outdone. They’d miraculously managed to build their houses in the trees, creating incredibly beautiful aerial cities that were moulded to fit the branches. Even now, their abilities and nature-loving sensibilities predispose them to work the land, even though it’s dying. The Sylvabuls possess the power of Greenthumb: their touch makes the vegetables, fruit and cereals grow more vigorously than when tended by any other Insider.”

“I know,” interrupted Oksa, her eyes suddenly misting over.

A wave of nostalgia washed over her at the mention of this power. She thought back to a few months earlier, when her father had shown her the French Garden, the restaurant he’d been so proud of creating from scratch. She’d been celebrating her thirteenth birthday at the time. She
hadn’t seen her mother for a while and she’d been missing Marie unbearably. Like today… with the huge difference that she might never see her again. She shook her head to banish all thought of this awful possibility which she’d do everything in her power to prevent.

“Do you think I have the power of Greenthumb?” she asked, trying to take her mind off these things.

The Tumble-Bawler rocked from right to left on its rounded behind.

“Yes… and you’ll certainly need it to rebuild Edefia, when equilibrium is restored.”

Oksa imagined plunging her hands into the depleted soil and causing thousands of plants and trees to grow. That really would be magical. She couldn’t wait to get started—she’d love doing that!

“Tell me some more about the Sylvabuls, please.”

“That tribe monopolized any activities connected with food, as well as pursuits less well known on the Outside, like seaweed-farming, flower-growing, the breeding of creatures and Granokology, of course.”

“That’s one discipline that’s certainly less well known!” exclaimed Oksa impishly. “What about the Long-Gulches?”

“The Long-Gulches live mainly in Thousandeye City. They’re citizens and have an innate feel for structure and system design at all levels, whether it concerns road networks, town planning, education or the legal system. You could call them Edefia’s organizers.”

Oksa studied Thousandeye City spreading out around the Glass Column. The city was badly damaged, but many parts bore witness to its glorious past. The size of the houses and the materials used to build them, the terraced design of gardens where nothing was growing now—everything pointed to bygone days of splendour.

“Thank you for all this information, you’re a great help,” she said pensively.

“I remain at your disposal, Young Gracious,” concluded the Tumble-Bawler, fluttering around her.