EVERYONE WAS THERE, LOOKING AT TUGDUAL: THE PRISONERS from the Glass Column chained to heavy rings in the platform, the Felons accompanied by a hundred men in armour, as well as Ocious, flanked by Orthon and Andreas. Pavel and his Ink Dragon were circling above with Zoe perched on its back. Instinctively, Oksa hoisted herself through the trapdoor and rolled onto the platform just as Orthon stormed over. If she hadn’t been protected by the Invisibuls, the Felon would have swooped on her like an eagle catching its prey. He knelt down and leant into the trapdoor above the spiral staircase, thundering:
“Where is she?”
Tugdual gave a faint smile as Orthon yanked him upright and seized his face in his hands.
“Where is she?” he repeated, speaking very slowly and clearly. Tugdual stared at him unblinkingly.
“What’s your considered opinion?”
Orthon’s cruel expression didn’t slip.
“So you think you can play fast and loose with me, do you? What do you say to this?”
Stalking back to the trapdoor, he brandished his open palm towards the opening.
“Orthon!” thundered Ocious.
Ocious gave his son a stern look, tinged with reproach.
“Now now, Father,” said Orthon, with a predatory smile. “I’m just making the best of a bad job!”
Saying that, he fired a Fireballistico inside the trunk of the Monumental Tree. Flames licked at the trapdoor as the roaring fire destroyed everything in its path.
The Column’s prisoners screamed in horror and the dragon bellowed, sending an ominous red tongue of fire into the sky. Orthon smugly watched Tugdual.
“So, my young friend, are you still lacking an… opinion? Or do you intend to run away like you did a few weeks ago?”
Tugdual blanched. That was a low and hurtful blow. But the Felon didn’t leave it there. He turned to the prisoners—the Knuts, Bellangers and Reminiscens.
“I wonder why you persevere with someone who keeps proving that he has divided loyalties. He seems somewhat half-hearted in his support for your cause.”
He drew closer to Tugdual.
“Which side do you really belong to?” he whispered. “You don’t seem to be sure.”
Tugdual glared at him defiantly.
“You’re wasting your time.”
Oksa felt sick beneath her layer of Invisibuls. She watched the Felon swagger slowly over to the trapdoor and fire a flurry of Fireballisticos inside the tree trunk. The fast-spreading fire was intensified by the draughts created by the platforms. At every level, bursts of flame escaped from the shaft, mercilessly devouring what was left of the buildings and structures.
Oksa Vertiflew around the giant tree, saddened by this wanton destruction and worried for the creatures that had been deep beneath the roots when she’d left. She hoped the fire wouldn’t reach that far. She was so tempted to cast off her layer of Invisibuls and take revenge on Orthon for his unforgivable crime against this innocent tree. She flew back to the treetop, brushing past her father and his Ink Dragon then, gazing at the securely surrounded captives, gave up the idea. She was convinced that any action on her part would lead to heavy losses, particularly as the soldiers had their Granok-Shooters trained on the Runaways.
“Right,” said Orthon, rubbing his hands complacently. “Since our young friend stubbornly refuses to break his gallant silence, we’ll have to get serious.”
He descended on Helena, Tugdual’s mother, and snatched little Till from her arms. Panic-stricken, Helena screamed:
“No! Leave my son alone!”
She tried to run to him, but her chain held her back and she fell heavily on the rough wooden floor. Open-mouthed in amazement, the little boy stared at the Felon.
“How about a swap, my young friend,” continued Orthon, walking over to Tugdual.
Till was struggling, so the Felon tightened his grip enough to reduce him to silence. Helena wailed. Beside her, Naftali and Brune were in agonies: with their feet and hands bound, and guards behind them, they were powerless to do anything as Orthon lorded it over everyone, including Ocious and Andreas.
“I’m not your young friend!” declared Tugdual, struggling to break free from the iron grip of the soldiers holding him.
Orthon brought his face very close to Tugdual’s face.
“No, you’re not,” he said, smiling evilly. “You’re so much more than that.”
His steely gaze rested on him for long seconds. No one spoke. The silence was broken only by the sound of Helena sobbing and the flames crackling in the branches of the Monumental Tree.
Oksa was perfectly placed to watch the scene. Orthon, Tugdual and Till were within easy reach, yet she couldn’t do anything while invisible. She walked through the Felon several times in the vain hope of deflecting him from his evil plan—she had no doubt that he was planning something totally unspeakable. But she was as immaterial as a ghost, just as she’d been when she escaped from the Isle of the Fairies. Orthon finally continued:
“Let’s discuss our swap, shall we? You might say it’s mere child play,” he added, stroking Till’s curls.
He was the only one to laugh at his little joke.
“The life of this cute little toddler in exchange for the surrender of our beloved Young Gracious. I know she’s here. She’s probably listening to us right now. Aren’t you, Oksa?” he added, looking up.
Naftali cursed and struggled like a bear held fast in a trap, causing Ocious’s henchmen to tighten their grip. Orthon lowered his voice so that only Tugdual could hear him—and Oksa, although he didn’t realize it.
“For that matter, one might almost believe you were bringing her to me. Is that what you intended, Tugdual? To hand her to me on a plate? How very generous, although I didn’t expect anything less. Unfortunately, though, our Young Gracious was smarter than you.”
Fazed, Oksa studied Tugdual. For a fraction of a second, a brief moment detached from reality, she was gnawed by doubt, unsure of the truth. The last few hours flashed past in her memory. Tugdual had led her into danger twice: was that just an unavoidable coincidence in these troubled times or a deliberate ploy?
“You’re mad!” growled Tugdual, fists clenched. “And let me tell you something: Oksa will always be stronger than anyone. And do you know why? Because, unlike you, she isn’t alone.”
Seeing how tense her friend was, his eyes full of deep despair, she realized he was struggling not to show any weakness. An expression like that didn’t lie. How could she have believed… she silently promised herself that she’d never again let doubt get the better of her. She knew full well that Orthon would stoop to any level. He still had his Granok-Shooter aimed at sweet, angelic little Till, who was paralysed by fear. Oksa made up her mind. There was no way she was surrendering. Out of the question! But she was definitely going to make Orthon pay for what he was doing. More determined than she’d ever been, she hid behind the tree trunk to remove her Invisibuls and then, bringing her Granok-Shooter to her mouth, she targeted the soldiers guarding the prisoners.
By the power of the Granoks,
Think outside the box
This twisting gale of wind
Will put you in a spin.
A shower of Tornaphyllons descended on the Felons. Oksa had opted for this particular Granok because it posed no danger to the Runaways, who were chained to the platform. A terrible twister developed, sweeping away everything and everyone in its path. Neither Ocious and his henchmen nor the soldiers could withstand the might of the tornado. The prisoners curled up and clung with all their strength to their chains, which Oksa prayed wouldn’t break. Zoe, Pavel and the Ink Dragon didn’t escape unscathed. They were swept a good three hundred yards away as the wind raised by the Tornaphyllons brushed past, although it wasn’t strong enough to prevent them from coming swiftly back.
Before firing the Granok which would carry Orthon off, but which might also sweep Tugdual and Till away, Oksa emerged from her hiding place without the layer of Invisibuls. Orthon had his back to her. He’d been so amazed at the sight of his allies being blown away that he’d temporarily forgotten to watch his rear.
The Young Gracious knew she only had a few seconds to save Tugdual and his little brother. She met Tugdual’s eyes over Orthon’s shoulder and quickly pointed at Till and the sky before Orthon could suspect anything and turn round. Mustering her courage, she threw herself at the Felon screaming, firing a Knock-Bong at his back—an underhand but effective attack which took Orthon by surprise. Dropping Till, he was sent rolling along the floor and crashed into a huge branch, which dazed him. Tugdual grabbed the little boy and took off from the platform in a super-fast Vertiflight.
Surrounded by the chained Runaways, only Oksa and Orthon were left on the terrace, which was being consumed by the fire started by the Felon. Still befuddled by the Knock-Bong, Orthon struggled to his feet, his body aching and his senses dulled. Before being swept away by a mighty tornado, he just had time to dive to the floor to grab his precious Granok-Shooter, which had landed several yards away, and hear the Young Gracious he was so desperate to capture yell:
“You’ll never get your hands on me! Do you hear me? Never!”