The Heart of Two Worlds

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The Heart of Two Worlds Page 13

by Anne Plichota


  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 glist
ening 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.

  26

  COCKFIGHT

  BUZZING LIKE A LARGE INSECT, DRAGOMIRA’S TUMBLE-Bawler hovered above Gus and Oksa, who were standing motionless in front of the mirror, and declared:

  “The Young Gracious is now sixteen years, two months and thirteen days old; she’s five feet six inches tall and weighs eight and a half stone. Her waist is—”

  “Enough, Tumble!” broke in Oksa, before it could tell everyone all her intimate details. “Let’s move on to Gus.”

  He groaned, murmuring: “Mercy!”

  “As you command, Young Gracious!” said the little creature. “The Young Gracious’s friend is now sixteen years, seven months and twenty-eight days old. He’s five feet nine inches tall and weighs nine and a half stone. Do you want any further details?”

  “No, thanks, that’ll do just fine,” said Oksa tonelessly.

  Feeling awkward, she moved nearer the mirror and touched her reflection with her fingertips—it looked both strange and familiar. It was her… and someone else. Her figure was more rounded and better-defined and there was a different, more intense, expression in her eyes. With one hand she brushed back her chestnut hair, which was now shoulder-length. Before this, she’d occasionally imagined herself older. She’d cast herself as blonde or brunette, curvy or slender, sporty or smart, as if playing a computer simulation game. But, as far back as she could remember, she’d never hoped to look like this girl in the mirror. She felt dizzy with excitement. She liked her reflection, but it was too soon to feel that it belonged to her. It had all happened too quickly. In the mirror, she smiled shyly at Marie, who was staring at her.

  “You were already a babe, but now…” came Tugdual’s voice behind her.

  She didn’t dare turn round, so she just watched him approaching in the mirror.

  “We’re almost the same height!” he remarked, putting his hands on her shoulders.

  He was so close she could feel his breath on her neck. Still, he didn’t move any closer, as if he didn’t want to frighten her. Only his ardent eyes held hers in the mirror. A strange heat spread from his hands into the Young Gracious’s heart. Instinctively, her eyes strayed to Gus who was watching Tugdual with cold fury.

  “You’re really not that tall,” he said sarcastically.

  “No, I’m not that tall,” replied Tugdual. “But what are a few inches between friends?” he added, edging a fraction closer to Oksa.

  Gus curled his lip and glared at him. Meanwhile Oksa was registering the “new” situation: it was as if Gus had caught up with Tugdual in every way within the last few hours. There was now nothing between them. In their own way, whether they liked it or not, they had the same qualities and the same weaknesses: devastating charm, a bad temper, discerning intelligence and a dark, tormented side. And they both made her heart race.

  “It’s all happening too fast,” she muttered.

  She looked like a young woman now, which was extremely unsettling. She wasn’t sure what to do with those curves and that expression in her eyes. And the changes inside were even more overwhelming. Her emotions were so much stronger! The timid feelings she’d had when she was fourteen were long gone. Right now, she was battling two huge, conflicting urges: to give herself body and soul to Tugdual and to bury her head in the hollow of Gus’s shoulder for ever. How could she be having such thoughts? Who was she now?

  Aware that she had no control over her emotions, Tugdual dropped a feather-light kiss at the base of her neck. Immediately she blushed. It was as if every powerful feeling she’d had “before” was now ten times stronger. Her big grey eyes stared at Tugdual in the mirror with an excitement she understood and felt, but couldn’t admit was hers.

  “You’re gorgeous, Lil’ Gracious,” Tugdual murmured in her ear.

  The shiver that ran down Oksa’s spine wasn’t missed by either Gus or Tugdual, who tightened his grip, kindling what felt like a raging fire in Oksa’s veins. He led her back towards Marie, who was waiting for them in the other half of the room. Oksa couldn’t help looking round.

  “Think very carefully about what you’re doing,” said Gus miserably.

  The words felt like a dagger blow to Oksa’s heart, severing it in two.

  “And do
n’t try pulling your old trick of starting a storm!” cried Gus, twisting the knife in the wound. “You need to take responsibility for your actions now. You’re no longer a child.”

  27

  A BLENDED FAMILY

  IT WAS TIME TO GET BACK TO THE EVEN MORE PRESSING matter of the Runaways and the two worlds. Oksa glanced out of the window at the moors in the gloomy daylight. The small group seemed to be on the first floor of the Felons’ home, so there was an unimpeded view. The wind had dropped, but unsettling black streaks cut across the sky like deep scars. The sea was crashing against the rocks, sending up huge plumes of grey water. In the distance, the Gargantuhens were stretching their legs, their feathered heads ruffled by sea spray. The mood was as miserable as the landscape. Only Orthon looked shockingly pleased with himself.

  “I’d urge you all to have a hearty lunch!” he suddenly remarked.

  Dragomira glanced at him warily.

  “He’s right,” said Abakum quietly. “We need to build up our strength after such a long and difficult night.”

  Although Oksa wouldn’t have admitted it for the world, she felt as though she could eat a horse. She was absolutely starving. Her churning stomach was so hollow that it felt as though she hadn’t eaten for a couple of years!

  “You’re my guests, when all’s said and done,” continued Orthon.

  “Oh, why don’t you give it a rest!” retorted Reminiscens in exasperation.

  “Yes, enough is enough,” added Dragomira sourly.

 

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