The Forest of Lost Souls (10 page)

A
FEW HOURS EARLIER,
P
AVEL HAD RUSHED INTO THE
terrifying forest. Oksa had just disappeared into the trees, followed by Abakum and Leomido, which suggested they wouldn’t have gone far.

“Oksa!” he yelled, using his hands as a megaphone. “Oksa! Where are you?”

But his voice didn’t travel at all. It sounded flat, as if absorbed by the dark, dense vegetation.

“She can’t be far,” he grumbled. “OK-SAAAA!”

He called out several times in every direction to increase his chances of being heard. But it was no good. At some point, he also noticed that the forest had closed behind him: there was no longer any trace of the path leading back to the small clearing where he’d chatted with his daughter and friends a short while ago.

“The father of the Young Gracious should digest the advice of the head with the root body… there is no location for the Young Gracious in this vicinity. She is pursuing another path.”

These words, uttered by a small, shrill voice, had just come from the Lunatrixa he was carrying on his back. Pavel stopped in surprise and thought carefully. What had the creature said? “Your footsteps will lead wherever you want to go. The Forest of No Return chooses the path, but the traveller’s will determines the destination, even though the route may not be the most direct.” He gave a deep sigh. It was stupid to keep
trying, he realized. That had been the story of his life: he’d set his mind on something and invest a great deal of time and effort in achieving it, only to end up feeling like a plaything of the gods. He clenched his fists with a bitter cry of rage. Looking down at his feet, he noticed that a winding path had formed in front of him. He followed it for a while, between tall ferns and colossal trees, distressed at being separated from his daughter. He didn’t like their group being broken up one little bit, but there was nothing he could do about it. As soon as they’d been sucked into the picture, Pavel had realized that none of them was in control and this feeling of helplessness had been gnawing away at him, making him seethe. He was so blinded by anger, in fact, that it was a while before he noticed that the path had all but vanished.

“Focus, you fool,” he snarled, causing the Lunatrixa to respond accordingly:

“The father of the Young Gracious trips into excess! Focusing is definitely a necessity, but foolishness is exempt from the plan. Do not be forgetful of the advice of the head with the root body: the friend of the Young Gracious is bound tightly to the goal that the father of the Young Gracious must keep in his sight and in his mind.”

Pavel chuckled sadly and reached over his shoulder to pat the
reassuring
creature. She was right: if they all focused on Gus, they’d be reunited with the boy they’d come to save. Pavel closed his eyes and saw Gus’s features in his mind’s eye. When he opened them, the path had reappeared in front of him. Forcing himself to keep Gus at the forefront of his thoughts, he impatiently forged ahead with a determined stride.

He felt as if he’d been in this dark, silent forest for hours and had lost all notion of time and space. He’d begun walking faster and faster until he was running but it didn’t seem as though he’d made any progress at all. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and bent over with his
hands on his thighs. The complete silence was unsettling. Suddenly, Pavel stiffened in the grip of an excruciating pain that made him whimper. He straightened up sharply and arched his back in agony, trying to reach behind him to release the Lunatrixa still harnessed to his back.

“Does the father of the Young Gracious experience torment? The weight of the Lunatrixa has caused exhaustion of his body. Ooohhhh! The regretful Lunatrixa is overcome with grief and makes requisition to give apology!”

The Lunatrixa twisted round, trying to struggle free from her harness, while Pavel groaned even louder, wracked by unbearable pain. He undid his Lunatrixa-carrier as best he could, and the little creature immediately came round to stand in front of him. Placing her two podgy hands on Pavel’s hips, she hugged him, resting her chubby head against her master’s stomach.

“Does the father of the Young Gracious have the will to bestow
forgiveness
on his heavy servant?” she groaned, pressing her cheek against Pavel.

“This has nothing to do with your weight, Lunatrixa,” grimaced Pavel, straightening up again with difficulty. “My back was burning so badly I thought it was going to go up in flames!”

The pain gradually eased, leaving him weak and gasping for breath. With the Lunatrixa still clinging to his waist, he walked over to a giant tree and sat down against its trunk while he recovered.

“Did the Lunatrixa cause the burning of the back felt by the father of the Young Gracious?” asked the small creature in concern.

“No…” said Pavel quietly.

“So the father of the Young Gracious liberates the Lunatrixa from all responsibility?” asked the creature.

“I do,” confirmed Pavel. “Shall we keep going? I have a feeling that we haven’t seen the last of our troubles.”

They set off again, following the path which led deeper and deeper into the dark heart of the Forest of No Return. Since the Lunatrixa had categorically refused to go back into the harness, Pavel was now carrying
her on his shoulders so that he could run faster. The entire surface of his back was still painful—although not excruciating, it hurt as much as a bad dose of sunburn. He ran as fast as he could, maintaining a reckless pace. From time to time he gave a stifled moan, which alarmed the Lunatrixa who could do nothing to help. But although he was an excellent sprinter, his legs started to ache and the effort caused his muscles to cramp, which made it really hard to focus on Gus. He was exhausted by pain, impatience and anxiety and his thoughts kept turning to Oksa. He’d almost reached his limits—his strength was melting away like snow in the sun. Suddenly he spotted a movement through the thick foliage of the plants flanking the path. He stopped, his senses alert, and studied the vegetation. His heart missed a beat when he recognized a figure he hadn’t dared hope to see.

“Oksa?” he called hesitantly. “Oksa? Is that you?”

Straying from the path, he pressed forward, parting the large leaves. Oksa was a few yards away, sitting beneath an enormous fern, smiling and stroking a magnificent hare.

“Oksa!” he exclaimed, overcome with joy at finding her again.

He walked closer, calling her name, but she didn’t seem to hear him. She just continued stroking the hare, without taking any notice of him. Panic-stricken, Pavel pushed through the leaves in his way and continued towards Oksa. However, just when he was within touching distance, he was wracked by another red-hot spasm, even worse than the one before which had made him double over in agony. In despair he looked for his daughter, but she’d disappeared. He cried out in anger as the Lunatrixa jumped down. Pavel’s back was on fire—it felt as if every inch of skin was being consumed by merciless flames.

“I’m burning up…” he wailed, grimacing with the pain.

The Lunatrixa took hold of her master’s face and gazed at him, while massaging his temples and making her wide, protruding eyes spin round. A few seconds later the pain lessened and finally faded away, leaving Pavel exhausted.

“Thank you, Lunatrixa,” he murmured gratefully to the little healer.

“Will the father of the Young Gracious give agreement to the Lunatrixa for inspection of his inflamed back?” Pavel’s only reply was to pull up his T-shirt with a groan, his teeth clenched. The Lunatrixa released his temples and waddled round to stand behind him. There was a worrying silence, punctuated only by Pavel’s moans.

“Well, Lunatrixa? What can you see?” he asked in a choked voice. The Lunatrixa paused for a few seconds before replying:

“The father of the Young Gracious is in possession of a mark on his back,” she said finally.

“A mark? What mark?” said Pavel.

“The mark is that of a fantastic creature forgotten by time, but still feared by men. The father of the Young Gracious possesses the outline of this creature!”

“You mean my tattoo,” remarked Pavel, feeling relieved.

“The tattoo is in existence,” confirmed the Lunatrixa. “The Ink Dragon is visible. However, its border is receiving development. The Ink Dragon is invading the back, as well as the heart and veins of the father of the Young Gracious. The Ink Dragon is now experiencing the heat of life and is animated by the ambition to liberate itself from its master and allocate him the gift of strength.” Looking stricken, Pavel put his head in his hands.

“The father of the Young Gracious has knowledge of the ability of his Ink Dragon, is that not so?” added the Lunatrixa, patting Pavel’s shoulder. “The Ink Dragon has awoken.”

“Yes,” whispered Pavel. “I’ve always known this day might come. And I’ve always dreaded it.”

“But the day of revelation is not dreadful!” continued the Lunatrixa. “The father of the Young Gracious will be filled with the strength of the Ink Dragon, which has been slumbering in his heart and experiences liberation from the power that has been suffocating it.”

“The power that’s been suffocating me,” murmured Pavel, “the power that’s been suffocating me…”

P
AVEL STOPPED SUDDENLY, COMING FACE TO FACE WITH
a wall that rippled as if covered with water and that seemed to mark the boundary of the silent forest. He looked round and saw that the path, the trees and all the vegetation had disappeared. It was as if the forest had vanished into thin air behind him as he’d penetrated deeper, leaving a vast, gloomy nothingness. Fascinated, Pavel stretched his hand out towards this void and felt an icy blast which appeared to be gaining on him. His fingertips immediately turned blue with the cold, forming a striking contrast to his burning back. He snatched his hand away in surprise. Trusting to instinct, he plunged into the rippling wall with a warlike cry. The shimmering surface sucked him in and he lost control of his limbs for a few seconds, before landing in a ball on a thick carpet of vegetation.

“DAD!” cried Oksa, rushing towards her father lying on the ground. “Dad! I was so worried!”

Pavel got to his feet, his heart filled with joy and relief, and opened his arms wide so that Oksa could throw herself into them.

“My darling daughter!” he murmured, burying his face in Oksa’s hair. “I’ve found you at last.”

He held back his tears as best he could, squeezing his eyes shut so hard that he saw billions of flickering points of light.

“Are you hurt?” he whispered in Oksa’s ear. “It was awful thinking of you all alone in this terrible forest!”

“But I wasn’t alone,” replied the girl quietly. “Abakum was there, you know! At least… Abakum’s animal self, if you know what I mean,” she added teasingly. “And Tugdual was never far away either.”

“Well, at least there were two people who were more reliable than your loser of a father,” groused Pavel, hugging Oksa even closer.

“Oh, Dad, don’t be such a drama queen!”

“Good to see you, Pavel!” broke in Abakum loudly.

“Good to see you too, Abakum,” muttered Pavel. “Pierre, Leomido, Tugdual—I see I’m the last,” he remarked bitterly, greeting each of his friends in turn.

“Who cares?” retorted Abakum. “The main thing is that we’re all together again. And look who we’ve found.”

With a big grin on his gaunt face, Gus walked over to Pavel, who gazed at him with genuine emotion.

“You gave us one hell of a fright, my boy,” he said, giving him a bear hug. “Your father must be very happy!”

“Thank you, Pavel, thank you,” said Pierre with a warm gaze. “I owe you, my friend.”

Pavel looked silently at his friend, who was standing there with his hands on his son’s shoulders. The gratitude in his eyes touched Pavel deeply.

“It’s high time we introduced you to a new Runaway, our dear friend Reminiscens!” exclaimed Abakum.

The beautiful woman walked over gracefully and bowed, while
keeping
her eyes on Pavel.

“You look so much like Dragomira,” she murmured.

Pavel greeted her respectfully, disconcerted at being face to face with a woman he’d heard so much about. He’d never have thought he would meet her one day. After all, as far as he knew, Reminiscens had remained in Edefia.

“I do look like my mother in some ways,” he admitted stiffly, barely tolerating this comparison which he was determined not to take as a
compliment. “But, if I may say so, you don’t look at all like your brother, Orthon.”

Reminiscens went pale and nervously crossed her hands over her stomach.

“Needless to say, my dear Reminiscens, what Pavel just said was meant as a compliment,” explained Abakum, immediately reassuring her.

“Then I shall take it as intended,” declared the old lady, with a dazzling smile for Pavel.

“Don’t you want to relieve yourself of your small companion?”
continued
Abakum, motioning to the Lunatrixa who was waiting patiently in her harness.

“The mouth of the Fairyman contains kindness,” admitted the
creature
. “The back of the father of the Young Gracious is already suffering from the flames of his Ink Dragon without the addition of the weight of his servant.”

Abakum frowned, intrigued.

“What Ink Dragon do you mean, Lunatrixa?” he asked gently.

“My back was scratched, near my tattoo,” said Pavel abruptly.

“You should show me,” suggested Abakum, coming over.

“No point,” Pavel replied, immediately twisting round to help the Lunatrixa clamber out of her harness. “It’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse.”

The Lunatrixa turned purple, a clear sign of bewilderment in creatures of her species.

“The father of the Young Gracious is attempting a reduction of the importance of the Ink Dragon,” she murmured quietly.

“I’m fine, Lunatrixa!” snapped Pavel, sounding irritated. “Let’s not make a mountain out of a molehill. It was just a tiny scratch… Well, Oksa?” he added suddenly, altering his tone. “Aren’t you going to show me round this magnificent place? It’s the perfect holiday resort, isn’t it?”

Everyone laughed and followed him towards the top of the nearest hill to admire the strange landscape. The Lunatrixa took advantage of this distraction to attract Abakum’s attention, as the Fairyman had expected.
Ever watchful, Oksa slowed down and listened, thrilled to be able to use the handy Volumiplus power.

“The Fairyman should receive the information that the father of the Young Gracious has not encountered a scratching,” murmured the Lunatrixa.

“I thought as much,” admitted Abakum, almost inaudibly. “What happened, Lunatrixa? You can trust me. I don’t reveal my sources.”

“The Lunatrixa does not have the habit of practising betrayal of her masters, but she knows the predicament of shrouding an event filled with importance in secrecy,” confessed the little creature, her skin purple as an aubergine.

“Don’t be afraid to tell me. What happened in the forest?”

The Lunatrixa glanced around in a panic, nervously rubbing her hands down the sides of her plump body. Then she gave a groan, which she stifled by putting her palm over her wide mouth.

“The father of the Young Gracious has experienced the liberation of his Ink Dragon,” she confided, frightened by her own words.

“At last!” whispered Abakum. “It’s finally happened…”

The Lunatrixa looked at him and gave another groan. The Fairyman gave a satisfied smile, which unsettled her so much that she fainted.