The Heart of Two Worlds (7 page)

“Well? What do you reckon?” he asked, with a cruelty that seemed to pain him too. “Would I be here, baring my soul like never before, if you were just an ordinary girl?”

He fixed his cold, feverish gaze on her. Something emanated from him that was at once completely terrifying and mesmerizing. Oksa staggered. The sky darkened with a rumble of thunder, again mirroring her emotions.

“You’re obsessed by the question, but you’re petrified of finding out the truth,” whispered Tugdual in her ear. “So, even though I’d love to go on keeping you in suspense, I won’t.”

Without saying another word, he brought his lips down on hers.

“W
E’VE JUST CROSSED THE FIFTY-SIXTH PARALLEL
!” exclaimed the Tumble-Bawler after lunch. “We’ll soon pass the Isle of Mull, then the Treshnish Isles. After that, we just have to sail past Ardnamurchan Point and cross the fifty-seventh parallel to reach the Isle of Rum. Then we’ll be able to see the Island of the Felons.”

This news lifted the passengers’ spirits, since the day had begun to drag terribly. Their journey would soon be over! The farther north the
Sea Dog
sailed, the more impatient they felt. Only Pavel and Abakum, who were busy piloting the ship, didn’t let their concentration waver. Perched on the Fairyman’s shoulder, the Tumble-Bawler proved to be just as accurate—and much chattier—than the ship’s instruments and nautical charts.

“How much longer will it take?” asked Pavel, frowning anxiously.

“Five hours,” replied the Tumble-Bawler, delighted to help. “We should be there before nightfall.”

“Perfect,” remarked Pavel.

A few of the Runaways were making the most of the break in the weather to enjoy a breath of fresh air and stretch their legs on deck, while some even took to the air and Vertiflew over the grey sea around the ship. To everyone’s amazement, Reminiscens suddenly shot into the sky with remarkable grace, her long hair floating behind her as she performed some jaw-dropping spins and turns. Brune and Dragomira
lost no time in joining her and the three of them looked as though they were having a whale of a time.

“Look at them go!” cried Oksa.

“Incredible!” added Cameron at her side. “Absolutely incredible! When I think how we’ve had to keep this under wraps for years. Such a waste…”

That was all it took for Oksa to shoot off from the deck in a fraction of a second, leaving Cameron staring open-mouthed. The Young Gracious soared into the sky to join Brune, who’d climbed above the clouds, then plummeted down in a nosedive, screaming at the top of her lungs. She stopped the right way up a few inches from the surface of the water, just as Leomido had taught her to do.

“OKSA!” yelled Pavel from the wheelhouse. Abakum put his hand on his arm.

“Don’t worry. Where’s the harm in it?” Pavel took a deep breath.

“There’s always the risk of harm… What if another ship or a radar picked up those four idiots! We’d have the army on us like a shot and, quite frankly, we don’t have time for that.”

Abakum’s face clouded over at this thought. Acting on Pavel’s words, the Tumble-Bawler shot into the sky and made a beeline for the Vertifliers, who were pirouetting between the crest of the waves and the lowest clouds. The small creature whispered a warning into Dragomira’s ear and she immediately summoned the four risk-takers. A few seconds later, they all landed on deck, applauded by the Runaways. Glancing over at her father in the wheelhouse, Oksa met his angry gaze and paled, knowing that she’d given him even more cause for concern. He shook his head angrily and she replied with a dazzling smile, which she hoped might calm him down.

“Fantastic!” remarked Cameron, coming over. “You’re so talented!”

“Um… no more than any other Runaway who can Vertifly,” replied Oksa.

“Are you kidding? Not being funny or anything, but your three flying companions have had decades’ more experience than you. Just how long have you been Vertiflying?”

“Er… a year.”

“I repeat: you’re very talented!” said Cameron cheerfully.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Ask away!”

“Can you Vertifly?”

“I didn’t learn until late in life,” replied Cameron, “and I’ve never really had much opportunity to practise. For a long time, my father was reluctant to teach me and Galina. As soon as we were old enough to understand, when we were teenagers, he told us the secret of Edefia and what it meant for us. He’d decided on that course of action with all the descendants of the Fortensky family, for our own safety as much as anything. I’m sure it was the right thing to do, even though you can bet that it was really hard to accept at the time. You only have to look at the Knuts to see how much harm could be done by keeping quiet about the secret.”

“You mean Tugdual?” asked Oksa eagerly.

“Yes. He paid dearly for the Knuts’ decision to keep quiet about their origins. Revealing the secret so suddenly had serious consequences for the whole family, particularly Tugdual—it was like a bolt from the blue! You’d have to be incredibly strong to come to terms with something like that and Tugdual wasn’t at all prepared for it.”

“Do you think anyone can really be prepared for something like that? Finding out is a terrible shock, whatever the circumstances.”

Cameron stroked his chin dubiously.

“You may be right… I remember I was worried sick for months that I might do something to give myself away to the Outsiders. Particularly as my father was almost obsessively afraid of that happening!”

“That reminds me of someone,” remarked Oksa, glancing towards Pavel who was watching them from a distance.

“Truth is, it wasn’t so dangerous once you knew. You were continually worried that someone might find you out, but as long as you were careful, there was no reason for anyone to realize we were… different.”

“It sounds funny, you speaking about all this in the past tense,” remarked Oksa.

“It is all in the past now,” said Cameron quietly, gazing at the sea churning around the ship. “Whatever happens now, our life on the Outside is over and done with.”

Oksa stiffened. Cameron was right. A wave of sadness washed over her as her mind filled with images from the past fourteen years and she lost herself in her memories.

“Are you OK, Oksa? Wake up!”

She opened her eyes to see about ten people staring at her. She was lying in the hammock in the wheelhouse, which meant she must have passed out or something.

“What happened?” she asked, sitting up.

“You were chatting to Cameron and you fainted,” replied her father, his face ashen.

Oksa frowned, remembering the images flashing past, her whole life condensed into a terrifyingly intense few seconds… wasn’t that what was supposed to happen when you were about to die? She shivered. The person she’d been no longer existed and yet her past life still formed an integral part of the person she was now. She could never turn her back on what she’d once been—it was as if she’d died while remaining
alive
! It was a confusing paradox.

“Is that because of me?” she asked, glancing outside.

Flashes of black lightning gleaming like onyx streaked through the overcast sky and torrential rain was battering the ocean and the ship.

“Maybe,” admitted Tugdual, perched on a desk.

“I really must learn to control that!” said Oksa crossly.

“You’ll get the hang of it soon enough, don’t worry. All in good time,” said Dragomira comfortingly.

“You know, Oksa,” added Abakum, “your gran was responsible for an unusually stormy microclimate over our Siberian village for several years before she managed to master her emotions.”

“Really?” asked Oksa in amazement.

“Yes!” nodded Dragomira. “Take this Capacitor, Dushka, it’ll do you a power of good.”

Oksa took the small silvery ball from her gran and swallowed it without question. A surge of energy spread through her body, rising like an invigorating sap and making her immediately feel stronger.

“You’ll have to teach me that too,” she said quietly.

“Will do!” agreed Dragomira.

The storm, linked to Oksa’s state of mind, passed over in the next few minutes. The sky cleared and the clouds parted to reveal the setting sun, which blazed red as it seemed to plunge into the sea.

“Ahem, ahem…”

Dragomira’s Lunatrix had come over to the group and was trying to attract their attention by clearing his throat louder and louder. The old woman eventually noticed him and asked:

“What’s the matter, Lunatrix?”

“The Old Gracious and her travelling companions must receive the communication that the Island of the Felons, as it has been named by the Young Gracious, is experiencing visibility for eyes that are most perspicacious.”

The Runaways turned to look at the horizon, narrowing their eyes. In the distance, a tiny bump was silhouetted against the sky, stained red by the rays of the setting sun.

P
AVEL AND HIS
I
NK
D
RAGON, ESCORTED BY
N
AFTALI AND
Pierre, approached the Island of the Felons to the rhythmic sound of the creature’s powerful wingbeats. One hundred feet below, the waves were battering the dark rocks of the cliffs. An enormous full moon, mottled with shadows, cast a pallid light over the sea. The massive island was surrounded by sharp, fanglike reefs, rising from the seabed. A narrow inlet, where a ship almost as large as the
Sea Dog
was moored, seemed to provide the only safe access to the island. The Ink Dragon beat its wings more vigorously: Pavel wanted to fly over the island.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea!” said Naftali, flying closer to him.

“Stay there!” retorted Pavel. “I’ll just take a quick look. Anyway, they know we’re here…”

There was no arguing with that, so Naftali and Pierre landed on a large rock and waited.

The first thing Pavel noticed when he soared over the high cliffs surrounding the island was the magnificent sandstone building in the middle of scrubby moorland, devoid of trees or bushes. The windswept house was exactly as the Tumble-Bawler had described it: a two-floor structure bisecting the island lengthwise. Fifty yards away, a small chapel perched on the edge of the cliff kept watch over the raging sea.

The Ink Dragon flew closer to the house. Smoke was rising from the chimney and a faint light shone from several of the windows. Pavel’s
heart was pounding and his body was incandescent with bitter rage. Marie was being held captive behind one of those windows… A low growl, originating in the fiery pit of the dragon’s stomach, rose into its throat and burst from its mouth in a threatening roar that seemed to shake the whole island. The intimidating creature circled the building several times, loudly beating its wings, then hovered a few yards from the front door. A motionless figure, whom Pavel would have recognized anywhere, appeared at the highest window of the turret that stood atop the house like a watchtower. Orthon stared in his direction. The fire inside Pavel burned higher and higher until he could bear it no longer. A long flame spurted from his throat, licking at the windowsill. Then the dragon turned and flew back to the ocean, with several measured wingbeats.

The ship moored up in heavy silence, with all its lights off. The wind had dropped, strangely, so the waves had abated and the sea was as calm as a millpond.

“The lull before the storm,” murmured Tugdual, looking up at the clear sky.

“Perhaps,” said Oksa in a low voice, stepping onto the tiny sandy beach which glowed in the moonlight.

One by one, the Runaways disembarked in the small inlet, relieved to arrive safely and eager to confront their enemies: Insiders and Runaways who had so much in common with them, except for one big difference—they’d chosen Felony.

“Are you OK, Oksa?” whispered Zoe, catching up with her friend.

“Um… hard to say… I think we probably arrived in the nick of time. I’d have gone mad if I’d had to spend another hour on that ship!”

“It’s always better to act than to wait,” declared Cockerell pompously.

“I hope so,” remarked Zoe, gazing around anxiously.

The towering cliffs surrounding the inlet only increased the Runaways’ doubts. Tilting back their heads, they looked up at the sharply ridged cliff face.

“Has anyone seen Gus?” asked Oksa suddenly.

“I’m here…” came a groggy voice.

Gus was sitting hunched on the sand, elbows on knees, with Dragomira and Jeanne crouched beside him, while Bodkin held up the Polypharus, bathing them in a pool of light. Hanging on to Gus’s jumper, the baby Lunatrix was watching him with large gentle eyes and gurgling quietly. Dragomira offered Gus a small phial and urged him to drink. Oksa hesitated, then decided to go over to her friend, her heart racing. He looked terrible—his eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks gaunt and he seemed to be struggling to catch his breath. Bodkin moved aside to let Oksa through and handed her the Polypharus.

“Thank you,” murmured the Young Gracious. Bodkin bowed and walked off.

“How do you feel?” she ventured to ask, forcing herself to look Gus in the eye.

“Like death,” he replied.

Oksa couldn’t help smiling: that was so typical of him!

“If you’re here to put me out of my misery, then go right ahead,” he went on, pretending to bare his chest for the death blow. “I’m ready!”

“Don’t be daft!” scolded Dragomira gently. “This potion should ease your migraine in a few minutes.”

“Have you got a migraine?” asked Oksa in surprise.

“Not only a migraine, but hellish tinnitus too,” replied Gus, with a glassy stare. “The Grim Reaper’s really dragging this out, the sadist…”

Oksa laughed nervously, pleased that her friend sounded like his old self but really worried about his condition. She instinctively looked behind for Tugdual, who was leaning against the cliff, casually examining his Granok-Shooter. “I love them both,” she thought, alarmed at reaching this conclusion now, on the Island of the Felons.

“Perhaps it might be better if he stayed on the ship,” remarked Jeanne tensely, interrupting Oksa’s thoughts.

“Oh no, mercy!” groaned Gus. “Not the ship—I’d rather die on the sand.”

He put his head in his hands.

“I really am a millstone,” he continued. “I get myself bitten by one of those vile Chiropterans, then I get myself Impictured, and now I’m slowing everyone down with my pathetic human ailments…”

At these words, the baby Lunatrix snuggled up to him and rubbed his little head along Gus’s arm, while Oksa raised her eyes heavenwards.

“It’s been ages since we’ve had to put up with your Eeyore routine…”

Pierre, who’d been standing near his son, suddenly walked over to Abakum and Reminiscens a few yards away and the three of them began conversing in low tones. Wanting to find out more, Oksa used her Volumiplus power to eavesdrop.

“We’ve run out of options,” said Reminiscens. “There’s no time to lose.
If
they do have the antidote, it’ll slow down the process and Gus may have a chance…”

Oksa stifled a cry. Gus may have a chance to do what? SURVIVE? Her heart hammered in her chest. Her horrified eyes met Abakum’s—the Fairyman seemed to have realized she’d been listening to their conversation. He gave her a long stare. Following his gaze, Pierre and Reminiscens turned in her direction too. In a daze, she pretended she was looking up at the cliffs.

“Come on!” announced Pierre, going back to Gus. “I’ll carry you.”

“It might do me good to walk,” said Gus, struggling to get up.

When he was on his feet, he had to cling to his father’s arm to steady himself. He shut his eyes for a few seconds, then reopened them with a wan smile at the Runaways around him. His eyes lingered on Oksa, who was still holding the Polypharus and biting the nails of her free hand.

“See, Oksa?” he remarked shakily. “I’m in great shape! So you can stop biting your nails!”

“I just finished the last one…” she replied, smiling back at him.

“You’ve always been such a pig,” he teased, clutching his father’s arm.

“Well, I think it’s time to go and meet our hosts,” rasped Pavel. “Anyone who can’t Vertifly should get on my back!”

He concentrated hard and they all watched as the majestic Ink Dragon rose from the tattoo on Pavel’s back in the moonlight.

“Dad… you’re magnificent,” whispered Oksa, tears welling in her eyes, overwhelmed by the courage and kindness in the look Pavel shot her.

Awed, Abakum, Virginia, Kukka and Andrew hoisted themselves onto the back of the fantastic creature and it rose into the air with a few powerful flaps of its wings. Pierre was Vertiflying with Gus in his arms. Oksa and Zoe took flight too, followed closely by Dragomira, Reminiscens and the Fortensky clan. The Knuts, all of them Firmhands, had elected to climb the high, steep cliff bare-handed. Like enormous spiders, they scaled the sheer rock at incredible speed, taking any sharp outcrops easily in their stride. Oksa flew back and forth, fascinated by the ease with which they were climbing—particularly Tugdual, who seemed to be racing his uncle Olof. Behind them, safely carried by his mother, who was sensibly Vertiflying, little Till was screeching with joy.

The Runaways finally reached the cliff top and, suddenly, the vertiginous drop behind them into the dark sea didn’t seem so frightening. In front of them, the vast moorland led towards the brooding house which held the key to the future of the two worlds.