DEEP IN THE SEVENTH BASEMENT OF THE GLASS COLUMN, the door was blazing with the mesmerizing intensity of molten metal. Oksa squinted, dazzled by the blinding light spilling out from around the door frame and through the keyhole. It was time to enter the Cloak Chamber at last. Images of the past flooded her mind, reminding her of everything she’d gone through, from the moment she’d discovered her remarkable gifts in her London home to her arrival in Edefia. These memories merely served to strengthen her resolve, though. She took a deep breath and turned round to look at the semicircle of people watching her—her father and the Runaways in the middle, flanked by Ocious and the Felons, who were glowering at her. Everyone was there. Everyone except the four people whose absence had left an aching void in her heart: her mother, Gus—who was so much more than a friend—Dragomira, her late gran, and enigmatic Tugdual, with whom she was so deeply in love.
Oksa screwed up her eyes to hide her violent emotions and protect her gaze from the intense glare radiated by the door. Endlessly reflected and magnified by the multifaceted precious stones lining the walls, the light was growing brighter with every second. The disagreeable stroboscopic effect created by the aerobatics of the Death’s Head Chiropterans and Vigilians high above the Runaways’ heads was also becoming unbearable. Oksa looked up in disgust at those revolting tiny bats and winged caterpillars, sorely tempted to put an end to the torture by cremating them all with a Fireballistico.
“At last!” whispered Ocious, raising his hand and clicking his fingers to halt the frenetic comings and goings of his airborne escorts.
The imperious old man took a few steps towards Oksa. Pavel Pollock stiffened but Abakum—the wise Fairyman—caught his eye and made a pacifying gesture.
“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” exulted Ocious. “But since you arrived, my dear Oksa, those long, hard years have ceased to matter. The Cloak Chamber has reappeared and you will enter it as our new designated Gracious. There you will be enthroned, making it possible for me—for us—to accomplish our mission.”
“Your mission? You’re such a megalomaniac!” protested Oksa, clenching her fists. “Anyway, you know very well I’m not here for you, I’m here to save the two worlds! You’ve got nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.”
The Felon gave an evil smile.
“Poor child,” he said. “You’re so naive!”
“You fancy yourself as the ruler of Edefia,” continued Oksa furiously, “but you’re just an ageing psychopath without a future. You’ve been nothing but a curse on the inhabitants of this magnificent land, which is dying because of you, and you still think you’re stronger than anyone. You’re pathetic! Can’t you feel some remorse for once? There’s still time to show you’re a man, not a monster.”
“Oksa,” implored Pavel, “be quiet!”
Beside herself with anger, Oksa was pulling at the hem of her blue tee-shirt hard enough to rip it.
“I don’t give a damn for your impertinent opinion,” sneered Ocious. “Don’t forget I’m the one with the power of life and death over your family and friends until you come out again.”
Ocious waved a hand and the guards in leather armour posted around the vast circular hall closed ranks around the Runaways. Then, with a speed that took everyone by surprise, he launched himself at Pavel and caught him in a firm neck hold. Drawing himself up to his full height, he glared evilly at Oksa.
“Now, you’ll do me the great pleasure of entering that Chamber, restoring the equilibrium and coming out again to open the Portal for me. Do you understand, girlie?”
Before Oksa could reply she was suddenly distracted by a movement in the highest part of the seventh basement’s vaulted ceiling, which was lined with blue gems. A gorgeous bird with wings of fire flew among the Chiropterans and Vigilians, which scattered to let it pass. It circled above their heads with silent grace before landing at Oksa’s feet. The heart-stopping solemnity of this moment caused both Felons and Runaways to hold their breath.
“My Phoenix!” murmured Oksa.
The sublime creature bowed, then stretched out its foot and opened its talons to reveal a key decorated with an eight-pointed star—the emblem of Edefia, which had changed Oksa’s life when it had appeared around her belly button. The key fell to the ground, raising plumes of fine sparkling dust, then the Phoenix uttered a throaty caw and took off again, disappearing into the lofty dome.
“My Young Gracious is henceforth in possession of the final component,” declared a small chubby creature, hurrying over to pick up the key and offer it to Oksa.
“Thank you, my Lunatrix,” replied Oksa, holding out her hand. The key was surprisingly heavy and so cold to the touch that she almost dropped it. A few yards away, the door to the Chamber grew larger with a roaring noise caused by the intense heat. Oksa trembled.
“The flames of hell…” she said, with a grimace.
She felt a hand on her shoulder.
“No, sweetheart,” whispered Abakum in her ear. “Your date with destiny.”
Turning to meet the Fairyman’s eyes, Oksa gave him a faint smile. Feeling powerful and actually being powerful were two different things.
“Will you at least let me give my daughter some moral support?” growled Pavel, struggling to free himself from Ocious’s grip.
“If you must,” sighed the elderly Felon. He released Pavel, but kept his Granok-Shooter trained on him.
Looking distraught, Pavel walked over to Oksa and held her so tightly she could feel his heart racing.
“Everything will be fine, Dad,” she said quietly, as if trying to reassure herself.
Then, emptying her mind of all thoughts and refusing to look at anyone, she walked towards the Chamber, which was brimming with light.