Oksa Pollock: The Last Hope (19 page)

A
S SOON AS THE DOOR OPENED, THE
L
UNATRIX PLANTED
himself in front of them and gave a comical—but sincere—bow, performing flourishes with his long arms and frantically bending his plump body.

“Oh, granddaughter and son of my Gracious, your presence in this hovel is welcome!”

“Hovel?” asked Oksa in surprise.

“You know, Oksa,” said her father, “the Lunatrixes read absolutely everything they can lay their hands on: newspapers, dictionaries and Dragomira’s books, of course. Not to mention directions on bottles of cleaning products, food ingredients, clothes labels—nothing escapes their notice. They’re compulsive readers who use the words they come across in a highly individual way. Our friend the Lunatrix must have read that word; it appealed to him and now he’s using it. In a rather ludicrous manner, perhaps, but the Lunatrixes are ludicrous creatures,” explained Pavel.

“Oh, son of my Gracious, you are so magnanimous!” exclaimed the creature, obviously beside himself with joy at being described this way. “The son of my Gracious pays a compliment which engulfs my heart in delight!”

“See what I mean?” said Pavel to his daughter with a wink.

“He’s ad-or-a-ble!” murmured Oksa, articulating every syllable.

“Have you come visiting up to this floor to make a request, son and granddaughter of my Gracious? It is with delight that the Lunatrixa and I will provide assistance, you can count on our fervour for ever,” broke in the Lunatrix, quivering.

“Oh—talking about the Lunatrixa, where is she?” asked Pavel.

“In the side of this room, son of my Gracious; she is performing the application of a salve to relieve the stress of the Goranov plant, which has been jittering since my Gracious has been in the countryside for convalescing. Would it give you pleasure to have sight of her?”

Pavel nodded. Oksa took advantage of the Lunatrix’s absence to express her enthusiasm, speaking softly to avoid being heard:

“You bet I’d like to ‘have sight of her’! And the Goranov? What’s that?”

Her father didn’t have time to reply, as the Lunatrix was on his way back followed by the Lunatrixa, an equally incredible creature. Looking out of all proportion, the female was as long as her companion was wide, with her legs accounting for two-thirds of her body. Apart from the fine lemon-yellow hair on top of her head, her face was exactly like her companion’s: rumpled brown skin, small, squashed nose, ears sticking out at right angles to her head, two large, round teeth protruding from her mouth, if you could call it a mouth—it was more like a long, curved slit that split her face from ear to ear. Both were wearing dark-coloured, perfectly ironed dungarees sporting a cheerful smiley. As soon as she saw Oksa, the Lunatrixa ran towards her. But, flustered by this encounter and hampered by her two long legs, which were as spindly as broom handles, she stumbled and fell flat on the carpet. The plant she was holding in her hands flew into the air and was caught by Oksa, startled at this surprising sight.

“Oooh, granddaughter of my Gracious,” cried the clumsy Lunatrixa. “How ridiculous I am to make a fall like this! My legs are madly absurd, can you ever forgive me?” she wailed, rubbing her back.

Oksa turned to her father, who looked as though he didn’t know whether to laugh at the creature or feel sorry for her.

“Are they like this all the time, Dad?” she asked, smiling.

“Yes!”

Pavel really began laughing this time.

“Hey! What’s going on?” exclaimed Oksa suddenly.

It seemed as if the plant she was holding had just woken up. Delicate round, flat leaves of a beautiful glossy green were growing out from a slender stem about sixteen inches tall. The plant looked as if it was
swaying
, its foliage shook as if it were trembling and it gave a cry of alarm.

“But it’s
alive
!” cried Oksa, open-mouthed.

“Plants are generally alive, Oksa,” remarked her father, stifling his laughter.

“Yes, but not to this extent.”

“Alive, alive… I’m not so sure about that,” the plant protested angrily all of a sudden, calling Oksa to witness and turning all its leaves towards her. “That Lunatrixa has lost her head.”

“No, Goranov, my head has not encountered any loss, it is my balance which is suffering a deficiency,” said the Lunatrixa, correcting it.

“But you must be mad to make me perform a loop the loop! You want me dead, is that it?”

“The loop the loop is going to extremes, Goranov, you performed a perfectly executed gliding flight,” retorted the Lunatrixa.

“Loop the loop or gliding flight, same difference!” yelled the Goranov, all its leaves trembling. “You wanted to murder me, you serial
killeress
…”

And with these words, all its leaves collapsed down the length of its stem.

“It’s just fainted,” Pavel explained to Oksa, who was crying with laughter. “But don’t worry, this happens quite a lot.”

“They’re amazing, I love these creatures!” said Oksa, holding out her hand to help the Lunatrixa up.

She looked at Oksa gratefully and accepted her help. Suddenly, they heard the phone ring. Oksa put the still unconscious Goranov on the floor, and rushed off:

“I’ll go. That must be Gus. See you soon, Lunatrixes!”

And she raced cheerfully downstairs at breakneck speed.

“Definitely see you tomorrow then?”

The week was over and Oksa, surrounded on the pavement by her friends, was reminding Gus, Merlin and Zelda one last time before they all went home. They were getting to know and like each other better and were becoming a close-knit group.

“Oksa, do you mind if I bring a friend?” asked Zelda. “Her name is Zoe, she’s in Year 8 Oxygen. We’re in the same dance class and she’s really cool. I invited her to a sleepover at my house this weekend and I don’t want to leave her on her own, or miss your birthday.”

“No problem,” exclaimed Oksa. “I reckon my father is making a cake big enough for at least thirty, that’s just like him. There’ll be plenty for one extra.”

“Thanks, that’s great,” Zelda went on. “Zoe needs some friends, she got here a few weeks ago. Her parents died last year and her gran was looking after her, but then she died too, it’s really sad… now she lives with her great-uncle.”

“All the more reason for her to come and have some fun with us! It’ll do her good. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Oksa!”

Leaning out of her window that evening, Oksa watched the comings and goings in the square. She felt sadness pressing down on her. Night had fallen, but the sky was clear and she made the most of her solitude to think things over in peace and quiet. Although it wasn’t easy: her thoughts were jumbled together in her head like laundry in the drum of
a washing machine.
During the spin cycle
. The transition from being an ordinary girl to being the heir to the power of an unknown and fabulous land hadn’t been painless or uneventful. Oksa felt full of extraordinary feelings. Her brand-new gifts were becoming stronger and this gave her a heady sensation of power which was hard to resist. And it was exactly her inability to stand firm which had caused her so many problems and had led to her overwhelming unhappiness today. At the same time, an uncomfortable feeling was stealthily taking hold of her. She had the disagreeable impression that her life had reached a mysterious, and dangerous, turning point. She was longing to know more about Edefia and to see this famous land. But at the same time, where would it all lead? She didn’t know. To the best and worst of things, probably. The appearance of that Mark had turned her life, or rather her future, upside down. Would she become an astrophysicist, as she’d dreamt of doing since she’d discovered that the sky held such riches? Would she get married? Would she have children? Or would she lead the Runaways to Edefia and become their queen? All she knew today was that she was missing her mum terribly and that she was scared stiff that her parents would get divorced. She’d give everything she owned to go back to normal. But would that ever be possible? She saw a falling star which left behind a sparkling silvery trail, and made a wish. A wish as far out of reach as the stars in the sky.

These gloomy thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a brainwave. There was someone in this house who could answer her questions! She quickly ran up to the third floor and knocked softly at the door. Dragomira’s Lunatrixa opened it, a wide smile splitting her round face.

“Oohh, granddaughter of my Gracious, a visit lavish with abundance, what a delight!”

“Good evening. How are you?” asked Oksa, slightly taken aback to find herself in private conversation with this odd little creature.

“Very excellent, as always. This is a reliability which we keep to, we Lunatrixes. We have work to do, Her Graciousness has given us
responsibility
, we must be reliable, it is of voluminous importance!”

“You’re right,” agreed Oksa, trying to keep a straight face. “And what news of Dragomira… do you by any chance know when she’ll be back? And… my mother?”

“I have the knowledge of this information but I can tell you
nothing
. My lips are not stitched together with thread and yet I must keep silent. But do not be melancholy, they both have true love for you and their return is in proximity, that is fixed,” replied the Lunatrixa, gazing at Oksa with wide, kind eyes. “Would you wish an enchanting beverage?”

Oksa accepted happily. She stayed for a while with the creature, who was totally lovable. She felt a little ashamed of taking advantage of her kindness, but she needed to find out things so badly.

“Tell me, Lunatrixa, why did my gran never go back to Edefia?”

The Lunatrixa looked at her in amazement.

“Why? You have asked me about why? I plunge into total
astonishment
. You do not have the understanding?”

“Tell me, please, it’s so complicated for me,” insisted Oksa with pleading eyes.

“Well… I have fright in replying to you, but I shall nonetheless deliver the explanation. Two gravely important things put that return in
impediment
: the curse struck the Portal with closure. But the seriousness is removed since you are the future Gracious. Thanks to the alliance of the Two Graciouses, return again experiences a possibility. The second thing, on the other hand, inscribes a lasting sadness in our hearts: that is ignorance. Edefia is somewhere but who knows where?”

“You mean that no one knows where Edefia is? Not even
approximately
? In the North? In the South? Someone must have a clue, don’t they?” asked Oksa angrily.

“Only one person had the Landmark: Gracious Malorane. The Cloak Chamber is the giver of the Landmark and Gracious Malorane is the one who paid the last visit to the Chamber. But her life has been engulfed by the loss of the Secret-Never-To-Be-Told. However, may I formulate
a thought to the granddaughter of my Gracious? A thought which is my conviction?”

“Yes, of course!” said Oksa impatiently.

“I knew the foresightedness of Gracious Malorane, she without fail has entrusted the Landmark to someone, my hope in this certitude is vast.”

“You think my gran?…”

“That is my hope. Our Gracious treads the path towards the solution. Hope will no longer be barren.”

The Lunatrixa wiped her wide eyes, which were gleaming with pinkish tears, then sniffed very noisily. Oksa gently stroked her large, rumpled head.

“I must go,” she said, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “Thank you for this information, Lunatrixa. See you soon!”

“B
E PATIENT A LITTLE LONGER, WE’RE ALMOST THERE
,” murmured Pavel, guiding Oksa.

Every year, for his daughter’s birthday, he planned some kind of
memorable
surprise. The ritual was always the same: he came to fetch Oksa, blindfolded her and then took her somewhere unexpected. When they reached their destination, the blindfold was taken off and the mystery solved. For her twelfth birthday, he’d simply taken her to the top of the Eiffel Tower—an amazing surprise which she wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Pavel never did things by halves. This year, Oksa had an inkling what was waiting for her: ever since they’d arrived in London, her parents had categorically refused to let her see the restaurant, which seemed rather suspicious. All she knew was that the date of the opening had been set for 29th September, the day of her thirteenth birthday. “A lucky date for two red-letter days in my life,” Pavel had told her solemnly. So, although she had a hunch about where he was taking her, Oksa let him lead her along, spontaneously sharing his impatience and delight.

“We’re here… get ready for a surprise, my brave Oksa-san,” Pavel whispered in her ear, untying the blindfold.

Oksa blinked at the extraordinary shopfront opposite, which was covered with ivy, wisteria and climbing roses. Above the entrance, a streamer floating in the wind informed all the passers-by that it was Oksa’s birthday. 

“Oh Dad, this is brilliant!”

“Welcome to the
French Garden
, darling! But wait. You haven’t seen anything yet…”

Pavel took her hand and led her inside. As soon as he opened the door, Oksa felt as if she’d entered a different world: a fantastic garden stretched out before her, an idyllic plant world filled with a riot of unexpected vegetation. The girl took a few steps forward, fascinated.

“Is this grass?” she exclaimed, kneeling down to touch the floor.

“Yes,” replied Pavel gravely, his eyes shining.

Oksa continued to look around, feeling impressed. There were plants everywhere, banks of flowers, clumps of shrubs and even an oak tree in the middle of the room. Beneath the warmth of giant reflective lamps, rushes and reeds rustled quietly around a pool filled with goldfish. Low box or hawthorn hedges preserved the intimacy of each table, while roomy leather chairs allowed diners to eat in comfort. The mezzanine overhanging part of the first floor was just as magical, with canvas
deckchairs
facing a wall of water.

“You’ve recreated a garden… inside a house?! That’s super-cool!”

“It’s all thanks to my origins. The Sylvabul blood running through my veins gave me the power of Greenthumb, which I used to good effect.”

“It’s magnificent, Dad!”

“I know. Hey, come over here for a moment.”

Pavel led her towards an arbour covered with dark roses which
concealed
another equally fantastic room with a glass ceiling. Standing on the daisy-dotted grass, all the guests began singing at the top of their voices around the table, which held a gigantic three-chocolate cake, the largest Oksa had ever seen. Everyone rushed over to hug her warmly. The Bellangers and her school friends were there, Gus standing right next to her, bellowing “Happy Birthday”. Then music started playing and some of the guests began dancing. The party was a great success and the cake to die for—Pavel had seen to that. Everything was just perfect. Everything or almost: Marie Pollock was the only one who wasn’t there. On the
verge of tears, Oksa kept watching the door in the desperate hope that her mother would appear. Pavel could sense his daughter’s heart sinking lower and lower as time went by. She was doing her utmost to put on a cheerful, light-hearted front, but she felt terribly sad.

Dragomira had arrived that morning. As soon as she’d come through the door with their faithful family friend, Abakum, Oksa had thrown herself into her arms. She’d been too polite to mention how ill her gran looked, but her joy at seeing her again hadn’t prevented her from
noticing
Dragomira’s drawn features and the dark bags under her sunken, tear-filled eyes. But at least her Baba was here!

As for Oksa’s younger guests, they’d taken over the deckchairs and were pigging out on sweets while examining their friend’s haul of gifts: an astronomical telescope, a webcam, a bag printed with the effigy of a manga heroine, a green plastic inflatable armchair, the latest CD by her favourite band and some perfumed soap. The last gift had been from Zoe, Zelda’s friend. When Oksa had seen her, she hadn’t been able to hold back her amazement: this was the girl who kept hanging round Gus! The most annoying girl she’d ever met. The one she’d decided to call the Schemer. At first she’d been wary of her and a little annoyed that she was at her birthday party, and she’d thought that Zelda was being manipulated. That girl probably wasn’t interested in anything except getting as close as she could to Gus—which didn’t please Oksa at all. After watching her for a while, she realized it wasn’t that simple and this annoyed her even more. No one was immune to Zoe’s charm. She was pretty, she moved with the grace of a dancer and her skin was as delicate as porcelain. Even worse: there was an aura of sadness about her which set her apart from the others and which everyone found deeply moving. There was something touching about her large, sad, shy eyes. Oksa sensed she was a tortured spirit, and found her
intriguing
. Feeling irritated, she couldn’t help scrutinizing Zoe’s reaction to Gus—and vice versa—rather tactlessly in fact, since her friend lost no time in coming over:

“You’d make a very bad spy.”

“What do you mean?” retorted Oksa, pretending she didn’t understand.

“Why are you watching us like that?”

“That girl really annoys me,” said Oksa, as if this was a perfectly normal thing to say.

“She annoys you because she’s talking to me and because I like her, is that it?”

“Whatever,” she sighed, by way of an answer.

“Do I sulk when Merlin chats to you?” asked Gus bitterly.

Taken aback by this remark, Oksa gaped at him, then quickly turned on her heel, which didn’t stop Gus following her, grumbling under his breath:

“I don’t say a thing when you’re both sniggering. Nothing at all. Anyway, if you really want to know, I don’t give a damn!”

Feeling cut to the quick, Oksa flopped down into a deckchair to chat with Zelda. Gus was so pig-headed! Suddenly she saw her friend was looking at something. She turned round and her eyes brightened.

“MUM!”

Marie Pollock had just arrived. Forgetting her problems, her heart bursting with joy, Oksa rushed over to her and they showered each other with kisses.

“Darling, I missed you so much!”

“Oh you came, thank you, Mum!”

“No, Oksa, I didn’t come,” said her mum, correcting her. “I came
back
.”

Oksa nestled against her and hugged her, thinking that she’d never felt anything so good. Then, grabbing her hand and with her arm tightly around her waist, she shouted proudly.

“Hey everyone, this is my mum!”

Marie looked around at them all gathered there and stammered, with a lump in her throat:

“I’m terribly late…”

“It doesn’t matter, Mum,” replied Oksa.

Everyone greeted her warmly, aware that she was the most eagerly awaited guest of the afternoon. Dragomira, Abakum and Pavel had risen to their feet. Marie walked over to them a little hesitantly, then threw herself into her husband’s arms, murmuring what were probably loving words in Pavel’s ear, to judge by the radiant look on his face. Then it was Dragomira’s and Abakum’s turn to hug her, much to Oksa’s delight as she watched in relief. What a wonderful birthday! The best ever.