The Forest of Lost Souls (31 page)

T
HE
R
UNAWAYS SAW
Z
ELDA GIVE A START.
H
ER DARK
pupils dilated, then her eyes narrowed like those of a cat about to pounce. Abakum was standing a few paces from her, waiting with a quiet determination that seemed equal to anything, even the
maelstrom
that was unleashed in the centre of the room. Everything went flying—the shutters banged against the windows hard enough to break them and ornaments and pictures shattered on the floor. The flames in the hearth roared so high that they threatened to set light to the carpet. The Runaways didn’t appear to be impressed by this show of strength. Or, if they were, they were hiding it well… They stood there watching, alert but motionless. Only Pierre and Pavel reacted: the Viking pushed Gus and Merlin behind a sofa to protect them from flying debris and Pavel stood in front of Oksa to shield her with his body. In the midst of this commotion, Zelda—who’d stopped pretending to be an innocent schoolgirl—stood up and growled some incomprehensible words in a low voice. Bluish lightning bolts suddenly sizzled from her hand, only to be sent back by the Fairyman with the flat of his palm. Oksa screamed:

“Mind Zelda!”

The warning came a second too late: the lightning hit Zelda head-on and the storm stopped abruptly as the lifeless girl fell to the ground. Oksa pulled away from her father’s protective embrace and rushed over to Zelda.

“No, Oksa!” shouted Abakum. “It isn’t over!”

Oksa had just enough time to jump back to avoid the strange cloud billowing from her friend’s mouth. The initially formless particles coalesced into a fuzzy human figure, as indistinct as a blurred-out face on TV. The pixelated form floated closer to Oksa, who was speechless with horror. Pavel and Abakum rushed forward, Granok-Shooters in hand, attacking with all the Granoks they possessed, but it was no good—they bounced off what seemed to be an invisible force field over the figure’s heart. Tugdual threw himself between Oksa and the human shape. Brune gave a shrill scream. The silhouette stopped briefly, then edged dangerously close to Tugdual, who looked completely unfazed and ready to do battle.

“Why don’t you join me?” rang out Orthon-McGraw’s cavernous voice.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” sneered Tugdual.

“You’d make an excellent recruit,” continued the Felon. “There’s still time, you know. My offer won’t last for ever…”

“I said ‘no thanks’!”

“Pity. Such a waste… Don’t come crying to me when you realize you’ve made the wrong choice. I’ll crush you like the arrogant young whippersnapper you are!”

Saying this, the form unleashed a pitch-black wave which smashed Tugdual against the ceiling. He hung there for a few seconds, suspended by the black smoke, which seemed to be hurting him badly, then he fell to the floor with a cry of agony. The shape headed straight for Oksa, who put out her hand to stop it. It was no use—it kept coming at her and, the minute it touched her, a terrible chill spread through her body, as if she’d been turned to ice. She could hear a commotion going on around her. Panicked shouts from her father and Dragomira, which sounded clear at first, grew more muffled as the freeze set in. Then everything disappeared.

She tried to open her eyes, but it hurt far too much, so she gave up. She tried to say something instead.

“Dad…”

Had the word crossed her lips? There was no way of knowing. She couldn’t hear anything, see anything or feel anything. Was she dead? Surely not. Not now. Not already!

The Runaways clustered round the two lifeless girls. Pavel looked
devastated
. Cradling his daughter’s head in his lap, he glared at Dragomira with barely contained fury.

“If she’s dead, I’ll kill you…” he raged.

“You won’t have to,” said the grief-stricken old lady.

Abakum took Oksa’s pulse. Staring into space, he waited a few seconds, then his face darkened and his shoulders slumped. Pavel groaned in anguish. Abakum leant forward and listened to Oksa’s chest.

“She’s alive!”

Pavel gave an animal whimper.

“There’s no time to lose! Dragomira, do you still have the Extrichasmic Elixir?”

Dragomira looked at her Watcher in astonishment, then her face
brightened
. She whirled round and ran towards the staircase to her apartment.

“I refuse to let that woman anywhere near my daughter!” burst out Pavel. “She’s done enough damage already!”

The Runaways flinched at his vehement tone, while Dragomira stopped at the foot of the stairs and gave a heart-wrenching sob, which echoed in the heavy silence.

“That woman is your mother, Pavel,” said Abakum gently but firmly. “And things would have been a lot worse if she wasn’t here.”

“Oh, really?” snapped Pavel. “Marie abducted, Leomido and the Lunatrixa dead, my daughter and her friend in a critical condition and,
if that isn’t enough, we’re at the mercy of forces which are too strong for us. How much worse can it get?”

“Stop right there!” shouted the Fairyman, surprising everyone. “Stop it and start fighting! If you even know what that means…”

Pavel looked shocked. Abakum’s words had hit home. With his lips pressed in a tight line, he gazed miserably at the Fairyman.

“None of this is your mother’s fault and you know it!” continued the old man. “The big difference between her and you is that she’ll never give up, even if she’s sorely tempted to. Your mother isn’t perfect, but she’s a fighter and a survivor, so please show her some respect. By insulting her, Pavel, you’re insulting us all. Starting with your daughter.”

Pavel held his gaze for a few seconds before he had to look away as tears flowed down his cheeks. Abakum put a comforting hand on his shoulder; Pavel was grief-stricken and they were all suffering with him—and the Runaways’ solidarity was their greatest strength.

Dragomira soon hurried back from her private workroom, clutching a crystal bottle. She knelt down beside Pavel to be as near to Oksa as possible and broke the wax seal on the bottle, which gave off a pungent, marshy smell.

“Are you sure this won’t poison her?” grumbled Pavel sceptically.

Dragomira tried to glare at him, but her eyes were soft with love and sadness.

“The Extrichasmic Elixir can bring pure spirits back from the depths when they aren’t strong enough to escape unaided,” explained Abakum.

“Son, will you open Oksa’s mouth a little?”

Pavel did as ordered, startled that Dragomira had called him “son”. The apothecary-cum-sorceress poured a drop of the bronze liquid into Oksa’s mouth, waited a few seconds and repeated the gesture, holding Oksa’s head up. The elixir seemed to spread through the Young Gracious’s
frozen body, warming her and breathing new life into her. Spluttering and coughing, as if rescued from drowning, she spat out huge quantities of water, which cleared her lungs and enabled her to breathe properly again. When her coughing fit had stopped, she looked around wheezing, her throat sore.

“Darling!” exclaimed Pavel, hugging her.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight to stop a fresh wave of tears. When he reopened them, he gazed at his mother in silent thanks. Dragomira smiled back, visibly moved.

“Where is he?” asked Oksa, gazing around in a panic.

“Don’t worry. Orthon isn’t here any more,” murmured her father.

“I’m freezing…” stammered the girl, her teeth chattering.

Pavel pulled a thick mohair car rug over her and hugged her even tighter.

“Are you trying to smother me?” she spluttered with a grimace. “I can just see the headlines: ‘Girl miraculously cheats death to be suffocated by her father!’”

Pavel couldn’t help laughing. She was obviously feeling better. He looked at her tenderly and she smiled back. She felt a little light-headed, particularly when she thought about her brush with death. That strange figure had only touched her and it was as though she’d been plunged into an icy vacuum. It had been horrible… She shivered. Everything was fine now, or almost. Her eyes strayed to Zelda lying on a sofa.

“W
E’D BETTER SORT YOUR FRIEND OUT NOW,” SAID
Dragomira, heading over to Zelda.

The powerful concoction soon brought her round, to everyone’s great relief. She sat bolt upright with a wild look in her eyes, and gazed at the ring of faces around her.

“What… what happened? What am I doing here?”

“You fainted, that’s all. Nothing to worry about, my dear!” replied Dragomira hurriedly with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Here, drink this, it’s a special blend of herbs that will have you back to your old self in no time at all.”

Holding out the steaming bowl to Zelda, Dragomira produced her Granok-Shooter from the folds of her dress and, while Zelda’s face was hidden behind the upturned bowl, she fired a Granok, freezing her in position like a statue.

“BABA!” protested Oksa.

“Memory-Swipe,” whispered her father, signalling to her not to make a fuss. Oksa remembered Dragomira using this tactic before—last year, when the police had “benefited” from the combined effects of
Memory-Swip
e
and Thought-Adder. Oksa couldn’t wait to master the astonishing power of persuasion that only the Graciouses could use! In the meantime,
she could do nothing but sit back and admire her gran’s talent. The old lady closed her eyes to concentrate and, a few seconds later, a thin line of blue smoke entered Zelda’s right ear and, in no time at all, emerged from her left. Granok-Shooter in hand, Dragomira uttered:

Then she murmured a few words right by her ear. Zelda woke up at last, a tranquil expression on her face.

“Wow! I don’t know what you put in that drink,” she exclaimed,
gesturing
at the large bowl she’d just drained to the last drop, “but I feel… on top of the world!”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Dragomira happily. “Now, my dear, it’s getting late. Might I suggest that Tugdual takes you home? Your parents will be worried.”

Tugdual came over, a smile playing over his lips, amused by Dragomira’s verbal manoeuvres. When she saw him, Zelda shivered and glanced enquiringly at Oksa.

“He’s a family friend,” she explained.

“You could put it like that,” he said sarcastically, scraping his tongue piercing noisily against his teeth.

They said goodbye to Zelda in relief and accompanied her to the front door.

“Is it wise to let him go like this, without keeping an eye on him, after what just happened?” asked Pierre, frowning.

The Runaways stood on the doorstep, watching Tugdual walk down the street with Zelda.

“Are you afraid he’ll be tempted to accept Orthon’s offer?” asked Naftali, looking as concerned as his friend.

“I didn’t want to imply anything but—”

“—but you think my grandson is unstable and could easily be seduced,” continued Naftali sadly. “He’s certainly different from the rest of us, but you forget that he proved his loyalty inside the picture on numerous occasions.”

Pierre looked down in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Naftali.”

“Don’t upset yourself,” said Abakum. “It’s perfectly natural to be wary when you don’t know Tugdual as well as Naftali and I do. There’s little doubt that Orthon’s offer will have unsettled him, but I have complete confidence in him. Still, I’m happy to prove to anyone who still isn’t sure that our trust isn’t misplaced…”

The Fairyman immediately turned into a velvety black shadow and hurried off in pursuit of Tugdual.

“Are you going to wipe my memory too?” asked Merlin tremulously, as soon as everyone had filed back into the living room.

Dragomira turned round in concern.

“Is that what you’d like?” she asked.

“Um… I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I… I don’t mind,” he added, closing his eyes and spreading his arms wide with a resigned expression.

Baba Pollock burst out laughing, followed by the rest of the Runaways.

“I don’t believe it’s necessary! You’ve proved we can trust you. I’d even go so far as to say that you’re a valuable ally, so there’s absolutely no reason for us to take that… precaution.”

Merlin sighed with relief and grinned at her.

“Now it’s just us, can someone please explain what happened?” asked Gus in a small voice.

No one had taken any notice of the two boys since protecting them from Orthon’s violence. Pierre and Jeanne jumped at the sound of their
son’s voice and the Runaways glanced at each other: the Squoracle had told them what was happening before Zelda had even set foot in Bigtoe Square. Gus and Merlin, the two “Outsiders”, had been the only ones not in the know. When the Runaways had stood in a circle around Zelda and the battle of wits had begun, they’d been taken aback by the tone of the conversation. Until then, everything had been fine. The situation had become incomprehensible when a fierce storm had begun raging in the centre of the living room. Not to mention the strange cloud rising from Zelda’s body… They hadn’t been able to believe their eyes.

“Could someone please explain how Dr McGraw could possibly inhabit Zelda’s body?” asked Merlin hesitantly.

Everyone stared at him, but no one said a word, which was unlikely to resolve the two boys’ confusion. Surprisingly, it was Zoe who replied.

“Seeing is believing,” she said, without getting up from the corner where she was sitting against Reminiscens, her arms around her knees. “Orthon, or McGraw if you prefer, has inhabited Zelda’s body for quite a few weeks. Probably since the summer holidays.”

Dragomira looked at her in amazement.

“I had my suspicions from the first day back at school,” continued the girl, hoarse with emotion. “Zelda had really changed. She was very confident, sarcastic and not at all clumsy—completely different to when we saw her last. She made me feel uncomfortable and, on several
occasions
, there was something very familiar about her expression.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” asked Dragomira, trying hard not to sound critical. Zoe hunched against the wall.

“It was too unthinkable to be… true. I thought I was seeing things. You’d have assumed I’d gone mad. And I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

Dragomira knelt down beside her and put her arms round her.

“You poor thing,” she murmured in her ear. “I’m sorry if I didn’t take enough notice of you…”

“Is… is he still here?” asked Oksa hoarsely.

“No,” said Pavel reassuringly. “As soon as he touched you, the particles flew in all directions. They then coalesced to form a new mass, followed by a hazy figure that was still recognizably Orthon. We tried to stop him, but he disappeared through the wall.”

“Unbelievable…” said Oksa. “But… why Zelda?”

“Look what happened when you came into contact with Orthon,” said Pavel. “He probably didn’t realize that he’d almost kill himself as well as you when he touched you. Zelda was an easy, harmless and docile host. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but it’s true. What’s more, she was one of your friends, which was a crucial factor. I think Zoe is right: he must have taken control of her body this summer to get closer to Merlin and the picture, because I’m positive he knew our young friend was involved. He didn’t manage to lay his hands on the picture but, by staying close to Merlin, he made sure that he had a front-row seat when you were all Disimpictured.”

“Of course!” exclaimed Merlin. “That’s why Zelda has been all over me since we’ve been back at school! But I was too taken up with Hilda Richard’s strange behaviour to suspect something fishy was going on… I thought it was just my irresistible charm!” added Merlin, pulling a face.

“It is where Hilda is concerned!” snorted Gus. “Lucky so and so!”

Merlin grimaced and shook his fist at Gus, laughing.

“Poor Zelda,” he continued. “Does that mean she’ll go back to being as bad at maths as she was before?”

“You can use Thought-Adder selectively and only erase what’s
necessary
,” replied Dragomira with an enigmatic smile.

“Hmm… I see,” replied Merlin, smiling back at her. “You know, thinking about it, I had a strange feeling when I woke up one night this summer, as if someone was in my room… I suddenly felt really cold but when I turned on the lamp, there was no one there. The feeling lasted for a while though.”

“I’m sure that was Orthon!” cried Oksa.

“The same thing happened to me…” said Zoe tremulously.

Everyone looked at her, which made her feel even more embarrassed. Trembling, she explained what had happened.

“You mean Orthon tried to inhabit you and Merlin before he ‘found a home’ in Zelda?” rephrased Oksa.

“That’s my view…” murmured Zoe, turning pale.

“It’s perfectly believable,” added Abakum, who’d just returned from his “stroll”.

“But why did he give up?” continued Oksa.

“Maybe he couldn’t see it through… for emotional reasons, which would surprise me, because Orthon isn’t soft-hearted. Or for physiological reasons, which seems more likely. Let’s not forget that Zoe is a Werewall: it’s possible that her DNA was too unstable to accommodate Orthon in his departicularized state. But I wonder what could have stopped him inhabiting Merlin: you were the perfect target, lad.”

Merlin frowned, listening hard to the Fairyman.

“You mentioned an unstable DNA… I don’t know if it counts, but I have a blood coagulation disorder. I’m a haemophiliac.”

Abakum nodded.

“That would explain why he went for Zelda. Orthon obviously tried everything! Anyway, well done, Oksa, for bluffing that we might be going back to Edefia. That really threw Orthon. You made him unsure of himself, which is a very good thing.”

“Maybe… but we didn’t get much information from him about Mum.”

“And we don’t know whether that lowlife will try to take possession of one of us again,” growled Pavel.

“He knows we’re on the lookout now,” replied Dragomira.

“And we’ve seen how well that turned out!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” murmured the old lady in an injured tone.

“I’m sorry I’m not jumping for joy, mother dear,” continued Pavel,
placing sarcastic emphasis on the last two words. “I’m just a little upset by the losses we’ve sustained.”

Saying this, Pavel stalked out of the room with a face like thunder and ran upstairs. A door slammed, leaving the Runaways looking at each other in tense silence.