The Heart of Two Worlds (12 page)

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Authors: Anne Plichota

BOOK: The Heart of Two Worlds
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“W
HAT HAVE YOU DONE?” GASPED
Z
OE.
“Y
OU’VE
killed—you’ve killed Gus!”

Tugdual stared at her, devastated. With surprising gentleness, he tilted her head up to look at him.

“Gus is one of us,” he said quietly. “I’d never hurt him. I just hit him with a Dozident Granok, to protect Oksa and to protect him from himself. You ought to have more faith in me, Zoe. I’ll never be on their side,” he added, glancing at the Felons.

Zoe felt icy cold. Contrary to appearances, Tugdual was much more loyal to the Runaways than she was. Had he ever been tempted? If he had, he’d never given the slightest sign of it… As if to confirm her thoughts, he murmured almost inaudibly:

“You made the right choice, you know—they’d only have used you.”

With a solemn look filled with understanding, he led her over to Oksa.

Surrounded by the Runaways, Oksa was in worse pain than she’d ever have believed possible. The agony was invading her limbs and increasing with every passing second. The shock waves caused by every breath she took—every thump of her own heart, her friends’ heartbeats, the ebb and flow of the sea around the island, the wingbeats of the gulls wheeling in the sky—were wreaking havoc inside her body. If she’d been strong enough to find words to describe the torture she was enduring, she’d have said that it felt as if burning acid were eating away at her brain, her lungs
and every blood vessel. She put her hands over her ears to try to lessen the deadly sound waves, but to no avail: nothing blocked these infrasonic frequencies. They were spreading through her body and wouldn’t stop until they killed her. Unable to hide their concern, the Felons milled around the Runaways. Orthon pushed his way through his entourage to get to Oksa, but was stopped by Dragomira and Reminiscens.

“Are you proud of the consequences of your criminal behaviour?” spat Dragomira, trembling.

Orthon flinched, his face tense with unfeigned anxiety.

“My trial will have to wait, I think,” he hissed frostily, “as we seem to have a
little
emergency on our hands, wouldn’t you agree? It isn’t just your young protégé who needs the antidote now,” he added, his eyes sliding towards Oksa, who was moaning and holding her head.

He waved a bottle in front of his two sisters, lightly pushing them out of his way. The Runaways had no choice but to let him through.

“Annikki, pass me a pipette!” he ordered. “And go and get the transfusion equipment.”

Annikki obeyed immediately. A few seconds later Orthon was trickling the precious antidote between Gus’s bluish lips, watched tensely by the members of both clans.

“What happens now?” asked Dragomira gravely.

Orthon waved one hand at the transfusion stand which Annikki was feverishly setting up and the other at Oksa, who was shaking with pain in her father’s arms. Looking horrified, they all realized what had to be done.

“Is there no other way?” whispered Pavel, sounding broken-hearted.

Sadly, Dragomira looked at him, shaking her head. The silence was thick enough to cut with a knife. When Orthon rolled up his sleeve, though, Reminiscens sprang up with a cry.

“In your dreams, Orthon! Oksa is not going to become a Werewall with your blood!”

Orthon stopped abruptly. His eyes narrowed like a wild beast about to pounce and he puffed out his chest, seething with resentment.

“You’ve already donated a lot of blood,” he remarked, “the transfusion has weakened you—it could kill you to give any more.”

Alarmed, the Runaways looked at Reminiscens with justifiable concern. Fatigue and worry had turned her skin grey, as if her face had been smeared with ash. There were dark circles under her eyes and her straight-backed, slender figure was bowed. With superhuman effort, she straightened and declared firmly:

“I’d rather die than let Oksa receive blood from that monster!”

Shocked by these words, Zoe moaned quietly. She obviously didn’t count—even her grandmother couldn’t wait to abandon her. Her life was a nightmare.

“If that’s what my dear sister has decided, who am I to stand in her way?” spat Orthon, looking tight-lipped. “Annikki, please do the honours.”

Annikki concentrated on getting the transfusion equipment ready. A great deal depended on this fresh procedure.

“It will take a few hours for the antidote to work,” announced Orthon. “Oksa and your protégé will be safe for the time being. They’ll just have changed a little…”

He stumbled slightly as he delivered this last piece of information.

“Will it hurt?” asked Pavel, his voice trembling with hatred.

“Yes and no. The antidote eliminates the effects of the venom by erecting a barrier against sound waves and infrasonic frequencies, but the accelerated growth rate may be physically painful and might also cause certain emotional problems.”

“Certain
problems
?” thundered Pierre. Orthon shot him a treacherous glance.

“You can’t suddenly age a few years and not experience a certain amount of confusion.”

“Can we please get on with it!” broke in Pavel. “There’s no time for delay.”

They all turned to look at him. Oksa was hanging limply in his arms, frighteningly comatose.

W
HEN
O
KSA SURFACED FROM THE DEPTHS OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS
, she became aware of an amazing sense of well-being. She clearly remembered her last few seconds of agonizing lucidity and the unbearable pain which had sapped her will to do anything, even survive. Was she dead? Had Gus’s bite killed her? She was curled up in a ball and her body felt light, as if floating weightlessly. Her chest was rising and falling steadily with each breath she took and she could even hear her stomach gurgling! “I’m alive!” she thought joyfully. But where was she? All she could remember was the sight of Annikki sticking a needle into Reminiscens’ thin arm and her father’s sad, worried eyes. Although the pain had gone, the memory of it was still very much alive, lurking ominously in the background. She didn’t feel afraid, though. She should have been shaking with dread, but she felt calm, confident and at peace.

In this tranquil mood, she ventured to open her eyes. The warm, shimmering mist around her didn’t obscure the nearby walls of her refuge. She stretched out her hand, confirming her initial impression: her fingers were touching the inside skin of the comforting bubble-like Nascentia. The thin, veined membrane made from the placenta of twin Lunatrixes was pulsing gently like a peaceful heart, infusing Oksa with strength and encouragement, just as it had done a few months ago when she was in shock after being attacked in the science lab at St Proximus. Listening carefully, Oksa could make out some familiar sounds, as well
as the voices of the Runaways. Orthon too… Although wide-awake, she wasn’t ready to emerge yet. Particularly as she could feel someone else breathing against her back, another heartbeat. She twisted her body round and changed position. The Nascentia rocked and she heard cries of relief outside.

Once she was facing the other way, she found herself looking at a familiar back and head of jet-black hair. Gus! Gus was in the Nascentia with her. Of course! They’d both received the same treatment. They were in the same boat. Or almost. In principle, Outsiders’ blood was compatible with Insiders’ blood, but it was impossible to be sure. Oksa anxiously studied what she could see of her friend. “Calm down, Oksa,” she thought reassuringly. “He’s alive. We’re both alive. Nothing else matters.” She examined him further: Gus’s hair had grown and the hand supporting his head was longer. His shoulders looked broader and the fabric of his shirt was stretched to bursting. She had to admit that her clothes felt a lot tighter too… “Yikes,” she thought, hardly daring to think about the physical changes she must have undergone too.

“Gus?” she murmured. “Gus? Can you hear me?”

She stiffened when she heard her own voice, which sounded richer and more mature, and her heart began to race. The slow, steady pulsing of the Nascentia immediately became more noticeable, radiating reassurance. With the active help of her Curbita-Flatulo, Oksa grew calmer and the fear was replaced by a stoical resignation. When Gus turned round, though, it was still a shock. The two friends gazed at each other open-mouthed with amazement.

“Wow…” they chorused tremulously.

Gus’s voice was soft and deep, but this was nothing compared to the other changes. His cheekbones were more prominent and the contours of his face looked firmer and stronger. Although his jawline was still delicate, his chin was squarer and dotted with faint stubble. Even the expression in his eyes was different. Although he had been no less handsome at fourteen, he was in another league now.

“This is insane!” she exclaimed. “It’s you and, at the same time, it isn’t…”

Gus was wide-eyed.

“Right back at you…”

Oksa looked at her hands and groaned. She carefully felt her face: her bone structure was different and her face felt thinner and longer. Her cheeks didn’t seem so round and her nose felt less prominent.

“How do I look?” she couldn’t help asking nervously.

“Ugly as sin,” replied Gus calmly.

Oksa whimpered. Gus’s face lit up in a brilliant smile which reassured the Young Gracious.

“Only kidding! You’re really pretty!” he said, lowering his dark-blue eyes.

Oksa continued her inspection and gave a cry. It wasn’t just her face that had altered, her body had undergone a remarkable metamorphosis too, the most unsettling change being the development of her bust. Flustered, she stopped examining herself, while Gus tactfully looked away, turning bright red—unfortunately, he realized, he still had the embarrassing tendency to blush.

“Do you think we can get out of here now?” he remarked, abashed.

“I’m scared…”

“Me too, but we can’t stay in this bubble for ever, can we?”

“It’s nice in here…” remarked Oksa.

“But very cramped, now we’ve grown. You’ve got to be at least five foot seven!”

“Stop it! You’re making me nervous.”

They sat there in silence for a moment, contemplating their new shared reality, thoughts rampaging like wild horses through their minds. Oksa was thinking about her father. He was bound to be sick with worry. And what about her mother? Her impatience to see her again was galvanizing her into action. Tugdual popped into her mind too, making her heart race. Would he like the “new Oksa”? She squirmed inside the bubble, causing
it to sway from side to side. An opening appeared in the membrane and a friendly face appeared.

“Abakum!” cried the two friends.

“How are you doing, youngsters?” asked the Fairyman.

His voice and eyes betrayed his intense relief, as well as the surprise that he was trying his best to hide.

“Packed tight as sardines!” exclaimed Oksa.

Abakum couldn’t hold back a grin. He looked affectionately at them, then widened the opening of the Nascentia to create a way out.

“You first,” said Oksa, pushing Gus.

“You’re so kind!” replied Gus, feeling nervous but glad to have the chance of showing Oksa that he was up to the task.

It wasn’t easy, though, either mentally or physically. With Abakum’s help, and a great deal of twisting and turning, Gus managed to climb out of the bubble. His shirt didn’t survive the manoeuvre and tore across his shoulders. Once on his feet, meeting the shocked gaze of about ten Runaways and Felons who were clustering around him, he felt as miserable as a beast at a cattle market being inspected by a curious crowd. A murmur ran through the two clans.

“Good Lord…” murmured Dragomira, her hand pressed against her heart.

“Extraordinary…” remarked Orthon in a low voice.

Only Jeanne and Pierre didn’t look shocked. They rushed over to their son and hugged him tightly, causing the last few seams of his shirt to give way.

“Thank God you’re alive!” exclaimed Jeanne.

Gus was much taller than her now and not much shorter than his father. He let them hug and kiss him, feeling dazed and awkward. His trousers, which had been roomy and comfortable a few hours ago, were now so tight that the waistband was cutting into his stomach. All he could think about was how awful it would be if his trousers were to burst open. His shirt was already showing most of his top half… Abakum realized how
embarrassed Gus was and draped his quilted jacket around his shoulders, immediately making him more at ease.

“You’d better help Oksa now,” he said, to divert attention away from him. “Come on, Oksa,” he said, poking his head back into the Nascentia. “Your turn!”

“I’m not sure… I want to come out,” muttered Oksa.

“You don’t think I’d let you get away with that, do you?” asked Gus indignantly, although he understood her reluctance perfectly. “We’re waiting!”

“Who else is out there?”

“Come on!”

He grabbed her hand and they were both startled by the electrifying effect it had on them, although they tried not to show their surprise. Oksa pushed her legs through the narrow opening of the Nascentia, looked out timidly, and was overwhelmed with joy to see her mother sitting straight-backed in a wheelchair right in front of her.

“MUM!”

Oksa’s head swam. Her heart felt as though it was going to burst out of her chest with pure relief. She was going to explode with happiness. Her mother was there, AT LAST! She threw herself into her arms.

“My darling,” sighed Marie, burying her face in her daughter’s hair.

“Mum, I’m so glad to see you…” whispered Oksa, putting her arms around her.

Without warning, the Young Gracious dissolved into floods of tears. The indescribable fear of the last few weeks disappeared so abruptly that she felt as though it had left a gaping hole in her heart. Oksa had never admitted how afraid she’d been at the thought that she might never see her mother again, but the dread had been at the back of her mind all this time. The prospect of losing her parents was more frightening than severe physical pain or extreme danger. A sob wracked her body. Finally, she wiped her glistening cheeks defiantly and, with her face buried in
the crook of her mother’s neck, she brought all those feelings of relief and fear under control.

“How are you?” she asked her mother. “You’re not walking…”

“I’m fine, honestly. I can’t walk, but I’m doing well. Anyway, I’m all the better for seeing you.”

Marie did look very well. The exhilaration of the reunion had made her eyes shine and brought a rosy glow to her cheeks. She looked in better health than when Oksa had last seen her four months ago, just before her Impicturement. Her long chestnut hair had lost its shine, but her face was not so hollow-cheeked, she was moving more confidently and she looked physically more robust. Oksa found this both reassuring and disconcerting. “The Felons have treated her well,” she thought. “She hasn’t been locked up in a cellar on bread and water!”

“You can see we’re far from heartless barbarians,” broke in Orthon, as if he’d read her thoughts. “We treated our guest with all the care and attention she deserves.”


Treated your guest?
” spluttered Oksa indignantly. “You’ve got some nerve!”

Marie waved her hand, dismissing the Felon’s words.

“Oh Mum…” murmured Oksa, snuggling against her.

“Everything’s all right now,” said Marie, stroking her hair, which was tumbling over her shoulders. “You’re here and you’re alive—that’s the main thing.”

“What do I look like, Mum?”

Marie took her by the shoulders and pushed her back slightly to study her. Her eyes misted over.

“You are and always will be my daughter. Nothing else matters.”

Oksa suddenly felt her father lightly stroke her cheek. Pavel was standing nearby, moved by their reunion and struggling to take in the fact that his little girl was now a young woman. Oksa threw herself into his arms and let him hug her. Her emotions were making it hard for her to catch her breath. She sensed that her body had blossomed, but she was trying
to delay the moment when she had to confront her new image. Over her father’s shoulder—which now only came up to her chin—she could see Dragomira and Reminiscens gazing at her in shock. Baba Pollock seemed to be crying. Orthon and Mercedica stood farther back, a superior and rather smug expression on their faces. Standing next to Dragomira and Reminiscens, Brune and Naftali were as serious as usual, but it wasn’t hard to see the amazement in their moist eyes. Beside them, Zoe and Tugdual couldn’t take their eyes off the pair who’d just emerged from the Nascentia. Zoe was white and wide-eyed with surprise. Tugdual was frowning, looking more intrigued than shocked. There was nothing tactless or improper about the way he was examining Oksa from head to toe, but she found it highly embarrassing. She was struggling to breathe normally, her clothes were too tight and everyone was staring at her, while she had no idea what she looked like. She hated this kind of situation.

“You look wonderful,” said Pavel.

“You’re only saying that because you’re my father!”

Pavel sighed, raising his eyes to heaven and, taking her hand, dragged her to the back of the room where there was a large full-length mirror. On her way Oksa glanced at Gus, seeing him “fully extended” for the first time. He was so tall! And so good-looking…

“Yes, I know, I look like the Incredible Hulk,” said her friend, showing off his torn clothes and his trousers, which only came down to his calves.

Oksa couldn’t help laughing. Gus might have gained at least six inches, but he hadn’t lost his sense of humour. It was so good to have the old Gus back!

“Shall we face the dreaded mirror together?” he asked, suddenly looking serious.

She nodded, unable to say a word. So, with their parents trailing some way behind, they nervously headed towards the huge cheval glass.

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