HERE WAS A STRANGE MOOD ABOARD THE SHIP HEADING north towards the rough waters of the Sea of the Hebrides. The Runaways passed the time as best they could to mask their anxiety. Walking the entire length of the trawler and back again, Oksa and Zoe passed Cameron Fortensky’s three sons playing cards, Andrew the minister with his head in a book, Cockerell chatting animatedly to Naftali in a foreign language, and Kukka sulking in a corner. Although they’d been told nothing about Gus’s worrying condition, the two girls hadn’t stopped looking for clues. Anxiously, they’d sounded out everyone who’d accompanied Gus back to his cabin, but it was futile… all the witnesses seemed to have signed some secret pact. Every time, they were given the same reply: “Don’t worry, everything will be fine…”
“They’re treating us like kids!” raged Oksa. “We’ll have to find out on our own since no one will tell us anything.”
She tugged Zoe along behind her through the ship’s narrow gangways to the Bellangers’ cabin. A few minutes later, Oksa was kneeling in front of the cabin door, concentrating hard on unlocking it with the tip of her index finger.
“See, Zoe? The door’s locked. That’s a bit strange, isn’t it?” Zoe silently nodded. Oksa stood up and triumphantly opened the door. Inside the cabin, Pierre was asleep, his large body turned to the wall. The faint light from the gangway barely disturbed him. His breathing faltered for a few seconds before regaining its steady rhythm. The girls closed the door behind them and looked around for Gus in the gloom. He was on the bottom bunk, his knees against his chest. Curled up on a pillow near him, the baby Lunatrix was snoring peacefully.
“He doesn’t leave your side!” whispered Oksa sitting down next to Gus, as Zoe squeezed in beside her.
“I think he thinks I’m his father,” murmured Gus, stroking the small downy head. “So what are you two doing here?”
“We’ve come to find out what’s going on straight from the horse’s mouth,” whispered Oksa. “How are you?”
Gus lifted his head: he looked ghastly.
“Sick as a dog,” he said, pulling a face, before adding: “That’s such a stupid expression! I’ve never seen any dog as sick as I am right now.”
“What’s wrong with you exactly?” asked Oksa.
“No idea,” replied Gus, wrapping his arms around his knees.
“Haven’t your parents told you anything? What about my gran? I’m sure they know something…”
She noticed Zoe signalling to her to stop. Too late—she’d just stupidly given Gus something to worry about.
“If they haven’t told me anything, then it must be serious,” concluded Gus, making Oksa feel even guiltier. “Perhaps even incurable.”
Zoe put her hand on Gus’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort, while Oksa gnawed the inside of her cheek. She could be so tactless sometimes…
“Don’t be silly, everything will be fine,” she whispered, realizing she was using the same words she’d found so hard to believe when Pierre or Dragomira said them. “Do you want a little spritz from my super anti-sickness product?” she added, taking a small spray from her pocket.
Gus hesitated, then accepted.
“If magic has to be my last resort, so be it. Wait, I’ll lie down.”
He stretched out on his back, crossing his hands over his stomach, and Oksa couldn’t help thinking of those recumbent stone figures that had impressed her so much on a school trip to Westminster Abbey. She jumped up abruptly, feeling upset, and almost hit her head on the bunk above. Zoe caught her just in time to stop her falling over.
“This will do you good, you’ll see,” said the Young Gracious quietly, spraying a liberal dose into her friend’s face. “Hang in there, OK? We’ll come back and see you soon.”
But Gus was already unconscious. Before she left the cabin, Oksa turned to look at him once more. Despite the darkness, she could have sworn she saw Zoe whisper something in his ear. Unless she was dropping a kiss at the corner of his mouth… With a scowl, Oksa signalled impatiently to Zoe, who emerged from the shadows looking so solemn that Oksa immediately regretted her hostility.
With heavy hearts, the two girls made their way up to the ship’s deck. The sea was rough and the sky looked ominous. The wind whipped into their anxious faces, but they did nothing to protect themselves. Oksa couldn’t forgive herself for tactlessly giving Zoe the hurry-up and her remorse made it difficult to stay with Zoe. Her cousin didn’t seem to bear a grudge, though, and linked arms with Oksa, who almost burst into tears.
They kept walking along the deck, lashed by the violent sea spray, until they reached the stern, where they could make out Tugdual’s dark figure leaning on the rail.
“I’ll go back to the cabin,” announced Zoe.
“Don’t feel you have to! I’m not going to throw myself at him just because he’s there!” exclaimed Oksa, blushing.
“Except that you’re dying to!” retorted her friend. Oksa felt embarrassed. Was she so transparent? Was Zoe disappointed in her? She mustered all her courage and glanced at her friend: Zoe was looking sadly at her, but there was no sign of a smile on her kind face. What should she do? Should she go back, when she was dying to join him?
“Go on,” said Zoe quietly. “Anyway, you can’t do anything for Gus at the moment.”
Oksa broke down at these words. She slid to a sitting position on the deck and dissolved into tears. Zoe crouched beside her in a panic.
“Oksa! I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” sobbed the Young Gracious. “It’s me. I don’t know how I feel any more… I’m upset about Gus. I can’t stand seeing him in pain. I can’t stand the fact that things aren’t like they were before. That I need him as much as I need Tugdual. That I’m afraid and in love at the same time. That I’m acting like a psycho!”
“You’re not acting like a psycho,” broke in Zoe. “You’re just doing the best you can. Gus has seen how much effort you’ve made to regain his friendship.”
“Do you think so?” sobbed Oksa.
“He knows you very well and he’s far from blind.”
“Do you think he knows how important he is to me?”
“I’d find it hard to believe anything else.”
“Oh, Zoe, how do you cope with it?”
“How do I cope with what?”
“How do you cope… with all this?”
The expression in Zoe’s eyes was intense, yet resigned.
“I don’t cope, Oksa.”
“I’m so sorry…” Oksa spluttered, surprised and ashamed.
“Don’t apologize. It’s all good. Me and misery are old friends now, we can’t live without each other!”
A strange smile lit up her face. She put her arms around Oksa and squeezed. Realizing that her friend wanted comfort, but wouldn’t ask for it, Oksa squeezed Zoe back as affectionately as she could. Zoe gave a deep, despairing sigh, weighed down by the permanent sadness she seemed unable to offload.
“Go to him,” she said, gently pulling away. “But remember, Oksa: Gus needs you. Don’t ever forget that.”
Although Oksa had thought Tugdual was lost in contemplation of the grey waves crashing over the hull of the ship, he was actually studying the screen of his mobile, scrolling through web pages from newspapers all over the world.
“There you are, Lil’ Gracious,” he said, without taking his eyes off the screen.
“Seemingly…”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye with unsettling seriousness.
“What’s the news?” she continued.
“You really want to know?”
He switched off his phone and slipped it into his pocket. Then he studied Oksa carefully.
“You look exhausted, Lil’ Gracious.”
“You didn’t answer my question…”
“Nor did you.”
“Yes, I really want to know!” she exclaimed.
“Well, in a nutshell, London is under six feet of water, as are several other major international cities. The tectonic plates are doing a good impression of figure skating, which is causing tremors in all the fault zones and the Richter scale is in meltdown. Other than that, there have been all kinds of landslides, floods, erupting volcanoes and forest fires raging out of control.”
“How awful!” cried Oksa.
“Oh, I forgot! A huge section of the ice shelf has broken off after an earthquake, accelerating things further. There are 116 square miles of ice adrift in the North Pacific.”
“Oh no!” gasped Oksa, her hand over her mouth.
“It’s the end of the world, my Lil’ Gracious,” he said, sounding deceptively casual.
Oksa punched him gently on the shoulder at this show of offhandedness—aware that he’d just called her “my” Lil’ Gracious for the first time.
“Ouch,” Tugdual said gloomily. Oksa laughed nervously.
“I could really hurt you if I wanted to!”
“I know that,” admitted Tugdual in the same tone.
He continued studying her with a sort of challenging, amused expression, which made her limbs go to jelly.
“I could also really hurt you,” he said softly, as a strand of black hair fell over his face.
Oksa didn’t say anything for a moment, feeling an agonizing uncertainty.
“You could, but you won’t!” she retorted as firmly as she could. “Will you?”
She gazed deep into Tugdual’s eyes. Just for a second, she was sure he’d hesitated, that something vulnerable had just surfaced. She found this as reassuring as it was unsettling. Tugdual had shown his weaknesses on several occasions. They melted Oksa’s heart, but perhaps they were too much for him to bear? And dangerous for the others? When Orthon had infiltrated Bigtoe Square, the only person he’d tried to win over was Tugdual, as if he’d sensed that he possessed a dark power, the potential for destruction… Oksa shook her head to banish this thought. The Lunatrix had assured her that Tugdual had a pure heart and was loyal to her. There was no way he could be wrong. The words of a song by Muse floated into her head. She hummed almost inaudibly.
I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty’s not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past…
Tugdual looked at her in surprise, then turned away. They both stared at the roaring sea for a moment, hypnotized by its powerful, ceaseless motion.
“What are you thinking?” asked Oksa, forcing herself back to the present.
“You mean when I look at you?”
“Stop answering my questions with a question!” sighed Oksa, trying not to smile.
“Answer me instead of replying with another question!”
“You asked for it… what I’m thinking often depends on what I’m looking at and how my mind interprets it. When I look at your father and Abakum, I think of a solid white iceberg and its invisible strength below the surface. When I look at Reminiscens and Zoe, I think of a poisoned dagger secreting venom into the heart, drop by cruel drop. When I look at Dragomira and my grandparents, I think about the lightning bolts of destiny which strike without warning. When I look at the sea, I think about my father clinging to his oil rig and I want to drown myself in the same dark water…”
His voice broke. He gripped the railing, his face ashen, then continued:
“When I look at my cousin, Kukka, I think about committing bloody murder. When I look at my little brother, I think about innocence which will inevitably be lost. And when I look at you, I think about power and the hope you represent. And that fascinates me.”
After saying this, he withdrew into himself like an oyster closing its shell. But he’d gone too far and yet not far enough, in Oksa’s view.
“Is the power I represent all you’re interested in?” she asked quietly, sounding choked.
Tugdual’s eyes darkened.
“You know that’s not true. I’m interested in everything about you. From the moment you walked into your gran’s apartment that autumn evening. You were wearing pyjamas and you had wet hair and bare feet. And you were in a total panic about the mark you’d just discovered on your stomach. And, if you want to know everything,” he added, raising his voice, “YES, I’m enthralled by the infinite power you represent. I know you’d like me to forget the Gracious inside you, but don’t you realize that I’ve never been fascinated by anyone the way I am by you and everything you are? You’re a Gracious and you want me to pretend that you’re not! HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO THAT?”
Oksa gnawed her lip, taken aback by his words.
“Why don’t you ask me what you’re dying to ask?” he growled, through gritted teeth.
She was deeply moved by Tugdual’s tense voice, curt sentences and set jaw. In an agony of indecision, unable to talk, she looked up at him despairingly, then lowered her eyes. Tugdual lifted her chin with his index finger and gazed into her eyes.
“Do you think I’d love you as much as I do if you weren’t a Gracious?” he insisted, enunciating every syllable slowly and clearly.
His words made Oksa tremble. She didn’t feel ready to deal with the answer to this question, which plunged her into a state of nagging uncertainty. She instinctively took a step backwards, but nothing could stop Tugdual.
“Well? What do you reckon?” he asked, with a cruelty that seemed to pain him too. “Would I be here, baring my soul like never before, if you were just an ordinary girl?”
He fixed his cold, feverish gaze on her. Something emanated from him that was at once completely terrifying and mesmerizing. Oksa staggered. The sky darkened with a rumble of thunder, again mirroring her emotions.
“You’re obsessed by the question, but you’re petrified of finding out the truth,” whispered Tugdual in her ear. “So, even though I’d love to go on keeping you in suspense, I won’t.”
Without saying another word, he brought his lips down on hers.