“DELIGHTED TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE!” SAID OKSA, carefully kneeling down.
The two creatures’ eyes grew impossibly wide, then a shrill scream issued from their narrow mouths, which were filled with tiny teeth. Oksa jumped up and took a few steps backwards. The creatures were shaking like leaves.
“They’re such cowards!” laughed the Getorix.
Abakum gave it a stern look, which didn’t stop the roguish creature from jumping around the others, who were transfixed by fear.
“Don’t be afraid,” said the Fairyman softly, bending down. “This is our New Gracious.”
The creatures immediately stopped trembling at this announcement and Abakum turned to Oksa with a smile.
“Oksa, despite their apparent awe of you, these creatures are a dab hand at household chores.”
Oksa couldn’t help laughing, which did nothing to ease the anxiety of the two little helpers or lessen their rigidity.
“The Dirt-Sucker derives its name from its main function,” continued Abakum. “It sucks up dirt. See those long, soft spines? It uses them to pick up the dirt, which it then swallows and digests. Although it would never say no to a piece of corn or a grape, its staple diet is dirt.”
“Excellent!” exclaimed Oksa. “It’s a one-stop recycling system! What about this… marmot?”
“The Lusterer? It works alongside the Dirt-Sucker. Its role is to polish and buff things to a high shine; its luxuriant blue fur contains the ideal ingredient for that kind of chore.”
Oksa was dying to plunge her hand into the Lusterer’s magnificent electric-blue pelt. She ventured a gentle touch and the lustrous marmot immediately rewarded her by arching its back under her fingers.
“Fantastic!” sighed Oksa in delight, her fingers buried in its fur. “I haven’t touched anything so soft since the cuddly octopus I had when I was little! Nor anything so greasy since I had to clean up that bottle of oil I broke in the kitchen,” she added, withdrawing her glistening hand.
The Lusterer gave a sort of husky chuckle and, from its delighted expression, Oksa surmised that her praise hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. This reaction encouraged Tugdual and Zoe to copy her and the three of them began stroking the remarkable cleaner, which lay flat on the newly cleaned paving, offering as much of its body to their caresses as possible. Oksa was laughing heartily when she suddenly noticed Abakum’s worried face. The sky instantly darkened and everyone stood up, looking around, as the Dirt-Sucker and Lusterer scurried inside a house. Everyone working in the buildings nearby came out, looking up, on the alert.
Granok-Shooters in hand, Pavel, Abakum and Emica surrounded Oksa while Tugdual, Zoe and Olof rose ten feet above the ground. Oksa surveyed the sky carefully.
The Dome District bordered the outermost zone of Thousandeye City, a belt of barren ground, devastated by the insatiable desert, whose carpet of black dust had turned to a sticky paste in the recent rainfall. The barely visible, opalescent membrane of the Aegis was fastened to the outer edge of this belt. No one would know it was there but for the breeze and the odd sunbeam, and this transparency meant that the Felons outside could see everything that was going on in Thousandeye City—and vice versa. Standing there in terror, everyone soon realized what had darkened this area of the sky: part of the surface of the Aegis in front of Oksa was covered by tens of thousands of Chiropterans and Vigilians, which were beating their wings ominously against the shield, making it quiver.
“How disgusting!” murmured Oksa, her hand over her mouth.
The Gracious squadrons soon converged from all districts of Thousandeye City to position themselves along the transparent membrane, Granok-Shooters at the ready. On the other side the first Felons appeared, clad in leather armour. The two clans couldn’t come to blows as they were separated by the almost invisible barrier which, although effective, didn’t stop Oksa and her supporters from feeling intimidated by this show of force: despite being perhaps five times less numerous than Oksa’s allies, the Felons were terrifyingly battle-hardened. And they had those diabolical insects, which struck fear into even the bravest hearts. Furthermore, despite being muffled by the shield, the strident whistles of the Chiropterans continued to assail their eardrums and disrupt their nervous systems.
Oksa glanced at Abakum.
“There has to be a way of fighting that!” exclaimed Oksa.
The Fairyman nodded with the air of someone who’s already thought long and hard about the problem. Oksa waited wide-eyed, anxious to hear the details, especially if they could allay her fears, but Abakum had already turned away to focus on the dark swarm. The red-eyed bats and caterpillars with their stinging hairs were pressing against the membrane, stretching it like elastic, trying to bore a hole in it. On every side, Felons were cutting through the scudding clouds yelling war cries at Oksa and her protectors and firing Granoks or Fireballisticos which, although they bounced harmlessly off the shield, were still designed to provoke.
“I hope it’s strong enough!” gasped the Young Gracious.
“The Aegis isn’t indestructible,” replied Abakum, “but don’t worry, it’s strong enough to withstand this kind of attack. The Felons just want to appear stronger than they really are. For the moment, though, they aren’t ready to go further than a display of strength.”
This remark took Oksa’s breath away.
“You mean one day they will?” she asked. “They might be stronger than us?”
“Of course,” replied Abakum gravely, almost inaudibly.
Oksa noticed that Tugdual and Zoe were Vertiflying very close to the hideous creatures and punching them through the stretchy material. She was dying to join them and give vent to the anxiety provoked by those flying monsters and the Felons. She’d just decided to take to the air when a familiar figure appeared among the Chiropterans. Orthon was hovering a few yards away, a nasty smile on his grim face. A cry rang out: as Zoe watched, Tugdual had just been propelled suddenly against Orthon. The two of them stared at each other, the Felon with dangerous resolve and Tugdual with helpless, yet distressing, submissiveness. Then, as violently as he’d been drawn towards Orthon, Tugdual was thrown backwards and, spinning out of control, he crashed to the ground.
Oksa raced over to him. Kneeling at his side, she took his hand, which was as icy and stiff as the rest of his body. He didn’t appear to be injured, but the dark mist over his eyes revealed a deep confusion. He was staring at the exact spot where Orthon had appeared. Oksa turned. She could again see the sky and the Peak Ridge Mountains bristling along the horizon. The Felon had disappeared along with the swarms of Chiropterans and Vigilians.
“Are you all right?” asked Oksa, a lump in her throat. “Have you broken anything?”
Tugdual struggled to a sitting position and rested his elbows on his knees.
“No, I think I’m fine,” he stammered, still in shock.
Oksa’s Lunatrix came to stand in front of him and peered into Tugdual’s ashen face.
“The confrontation of Gracious Hearts has consequences stuffed with gravity for the equilibrium of mental faculties.”
Oksa cocked her head to one side. She frowned dubiously at her little steward.
“The breakage of bones or the sprainage of limbs do not give cause for any lament,” the latter hurriedly continued. “The body of the beloved of my Gracious presents the conservation of an intact constitution.”
Oksa couldn’t help feeling embarrassed by the Lunatrix’s description of Tugdual, even if it was the simple truth. She let her hair fall over her face to hide her crimson cheeks and walked mechanically towards the membrane. She probed it with her fingers, feeling the texture. Although she’d imagined that the substance was similar to plastic or silicone, she found that it was a dense, almost living matter, like flesh made water. And, like any living thing, it was impermeable but could absorb what it needed and defend itself instinctively to stay alive. As a result, while letting in the wind and the rain, it would obstruct anything it deemed undesirable or harmful.
“It’s like a giant Nascentia.”
A commotion roused her from her observation: the Corpusleoxes were racing towards her, escorted by a score of Squoracles, including her own two, dressed in their multicoloured mohair sweaters. The huge creatures, half-lion, half-woman, skidded to halt before Oksa in a spray of dark mud.
“Our respects, our Gracious!” boomed one of them. “Please be advised that your enemies have just tried to enter Thousandeye City on the south side.”
Oksa paled.
“Did they… succeed?” she stammered.
The Corpusleoxes threw their heads back and roared, batting the air with paws bristling with lethal, blood-stained claws. “Stupid question,” thought Oksa, gnawing her lip.
“How did they go about it?” asked Abakum.
“They began by firing Fireballisticos which had no effect,” replied one of the Squoracles. “The Aegis doesn’t react to heat or cold, unlike those of us whose delicate metabolism is extremely sensitive to variations in temperature—not that anyone cares. We could die of hypothermia and no one would notice.”
“Oh, I think we would,” said the Getorix, cackling. “Things would be a lot quieter round here!”
The little hen shivered and looked up at the sky before continuing:
“Then they started firing Granoks loaded with an acid we’ve never come across before. The doorway was damaged, but they couldn’t breach the reinforcement. The Corpusleoxes dissuaded those impertinent Felons from continuing their attack and, in our view, some of them will probably remember the lesson they were taught for a long time to come! We immediately strengthened the door hinges with the help of the Servants for Granokology and Protection.”
“Nicely done!” exclaimed Oksa.
The Squoracle fixed her with tiny eyes like marbles.
“Our Gracious, did you know that Cameron—the son of our late-lamented Leomido—was one of the best locksmiths in that horrible wet, icy city called London?”
“I had heard as much, yes,” confirmed Oksa.
“Well, he’s now part of the Protection Mission and has joined forces with Sven in Granokology. Their combined talents have worked wonders in reinforcing the door so that it is now stronger than ever! Which is more than can be said for us poor Squoracles. We have to put up with freezing temperatures when we’re carrying out our nightly guard duties,” the little hen couldn’t help adding.
Oksa tried not to laugh. The Squoracles never missed an opportunity to elaborate on their favourite subject.
“I’ll bring you some braziers,” announced Abakum with a smile.
“You have our eternal gratitude!” squawked the Squoracles in unison.
“Oh, I know,” said Abakum, looking amused.
Oksa glanced around for Tugdual, hoping he would be just as tickled as she was by this entertaining interlude, but met Zoe’s serious gaze instead. Tugdual was farther away in one of the circular streets of the Dome District, standing with his narrow back to them. Oksa clenched her fists. She was about to call to him when she thought better of it, her heart heavy with a strange sadness.