Finding The Soul Bridge (The Soul Fire Saga Book 1) (16 page)

“So close” he whispered. The noise of the raging river was too great for the other two to hear what he mumbled to himself. He studied the edge of the far cliff and then looked beyond to where he wanted to be.

“Jem! Thist!” said Kelvin. “Look over the horizon of the far cliff, what can you make out there?”

Jem had been distracted by the dangers right in front of him and the disappointment of imminent failure that he did not notice the commotion on the far side.

“There seems to be a camp, with at least three plumes of camp fire smoke not right on the edge of the cliff but beyond.” said Jem.

“There are people there.” said Thist.

“They want to come here and we want to go there.” said Jem. He sat down on a ledge on the stone pillar and put his chin on his hand and caressed his lips, a sure sign that he was thinking. “There is a cellar in the tavern, that we didn’t explore yet, did you see anything out back Kelvin?”

Kelvin nodded, “It seems that there is a workshop of sorts, nice tools, very dusty, and there are some old tarps, could be something interesting under them.”

“There is a wagon on the side where I went to get firewood.” said Thist “Looks derelict but we might find some stuff, you know?”

“Change of plans.” announced Jem. “Let’s see what we can find in the old tavern and see if we can build a new bridge.”

Kelvin nodded his approval to Jem’s attitude. “Why the change of heart?”

Jem looked at Kelvin, “It is simple, we have come this far, we are here now, if we turn back now then we have failed. At least we can have an adventure with what we have. Try to build a bridge in the meantime and we might still succeed. Either way, we have to try to move forward despite impossible odds. Failure may court us, but it’s not failure until we give in to it.”

Thist nodded. “I agree with that.”

Kelvin drank in Jem’s words. “How can we fail? Let’s go and check out the wagon with fresh eyes. You coming?”

Jem and Kelvin followed Thist around the side of the tavern to where the old wagon was. It was a strange looking wagon with five wheels, and a lot of dusty planks loaded in the centre load bed. The planks looked all shapes and sizes but were strangely packed together in a neat configuration; some were tied and some were bolted together. As soon as Kelvin tried to move one he found it snagged to another. Thist and Jem tried to help Kelvin move the heavy beams off the load bed for a frustrating minute before Jem noticed what was going on. “They are all connected. And these large long ones seem to be bolted to the load bed.”

The three boys brushed some more of the dust off and noticed that it was a contraption of unknown origin.

“This isn’t a wagon.” said Kelvin “It’s a construction crane.”

Jem shot an inquisitive stare at Kelvin. “A construction crane?”

“Whoever built this was crazy.” said Thist. “You need a crane to hoist it.”

“Or a horse and capstan.” said Jem.

“How are you going to look after horses here?” asked Thist.

“Let’s leave this for now and go and see the workshop.” suggested Jem.

Kelvin led the way around to the far end of the building; they found an old orchard of num-num berries. It wasn’t a big orchard, just four rows wide and six deep. The berry shrubs were planted in neat rows and the wet mountain air had done them well for their health. The bright red berries hung thick and heavy on the branches. The sweet white milk from the skin would normally ward off the ignorant but they were good to eat. The boys made a quick detour to the plantation and gorged themselves on num-num berries.

“They aren’t called num-num for nothing.” said Jem.

Thist scoffed several at once, the juice soaking his face with its stickiness and turning it stark white. Jem looked Thist and said. “You are white.”

Thist ignored Jem’s comment saying. “They should be called ‘Nom Nom’ berries! I wonder why, of all things, they would plant this here?”

“Wine.” said Kelvin.

“Yes.” said Jem. “This is what royal berry wine is made of. Do you remember back at the village we used to get a bottle every summer and everyone had a quarter of a cap full?”

“I do.” said Thist. “We went crazy for it and then one day it was announced that it had become unavailable. I think it was made at this tavern.”

Jem looked at Kelvin for a second and spat out a mouthful of berry pulp and tried to speak but his tongue stuck to his palate. After an effort to speak a few times he could only laugh. Kelvin and to Thist laughed openly at Jem’s awkwardness as it was comical and spectacular.

Thist tried to pass fair comment on what was transpiring but the same fate befell him and the trio laughed even more.

Kelvin had no trouble speaking as he had only had one handful. “Too much of these berries will put you guys in a sticky situation.” he said.

The boys laughed heartily.

“What I was going to say.” started Jem as he cleared his throat. “I am now very curious to scout the cellar, I’m sure there is berry wine in there. But first the workshop. Lead the way Kelvin.”

A slight fog hung over the area. It was like a magical aura of power, an effect created by the raging river that thundered in the distance.

Kelvin pulled Jem’s sleeve to steer him in the right direction “Pay attention, the thorns on these bushes are a menace.”

It took only a minute to get to the workshop, an equally derelict building that had been sturdy in its hay-day but on which its twilight sun had set.

The door had fallen off a long time ago and was missing. The inside was dusty and ivy had crept over everything twice and then died. The tools were rusty and blunt and the tarps had fish moth holes poked into every part of it.

Kelvin pulled on a tarp which ripped and sent a cloud of black dust into everyone’s faces. Thist’s face was mostly covered in num-num berry sap which instantly turned black as the dust clung to it.

“You are black.” said Jem.

Thist said nothing as he stared back at Jem while shaking his head. Kelvin waved the dust cloud to try and dissipate it. “Look here fellow adventurers; this is the jackpot if ever I saw one.”

“Num-num berry wine!” exclaimed Thist.

“No you idiot.” said Kelvin. “It is a massive pile of oiled bridge rope.”

Thist rolled his eyes, the whites contrasting to the blackness of his face.

“No tavern wenches, no wine, no bridge, what else is missing?” said Thist.

“If we have enough rope, then we potentially have a bridge.” said Kelvin.

“Sounds like a fun challenge.” said Jem. “Let’s see what’s in the cellar.”

“Yes.” said Thist. “Maybe there is a big pile of oiled bridge rope.”

Kelvin slapped Thist upside the head sending black dust flying out of his hair. “You need a good wash, you’re filthy and you stink.”

The boys were in a jovial mood. The berries they had eaten were over ripe and had fermented just enough to give them a tipsy edge.

Jem rummaged through a trunk of tools that had been shaded from dust and although they were a little rusty most of them looked serviceable.

“Ah” said Jem with delight, “A pry bar, just what we need to get us into the trapdoor of the cellar.”

The rusty hinges on the cellar door creaked, but the wood had not rotted. The door protested creak after creak, echoing through the tavern. The floorboards rattled around the trapdoor sending more dust to the friends as they worked together.

“You know what?” said Thist, “We should clean this place up, while we are here.”

“If we get the bridge working again this could be a nice place and we could be host to weary travellers and have parties and who knows what.”

“Or we could take what we can and split,” said Jem. “Get on with our journey.”

“Torch?” demanded Kelvin, “Stop talking rubbish and let’s see what we can find in this cellar. Thist, the torches and flint are in your pack, go fetch them please.”

Thist was in a happy and helpful mood and skipped to the task. He trotted up the stairs and into his room, as he entered he felt a presence behind him, turned and saw nothing.

“What?” He asked. Goose bumps shot down his right leg. He stared at the doorway, it was daylight outside but the room was dingy and the floorboards creaked for no reason.

Thist dismissed the distraction and grabbed his pack. The jovial mood had fled, only to be replaced by anxiety and fear. He ripped his bag open, rummaged for the flint and felt a cold breath on his neck. He spun around. “Who’s there?”

Holding a torch up like a cutlass, he said “This isn’t funny.”

Thist ran out of the door and down the stairs to the trap door in the bar.

“Guys!” shouted Thist. “This place is creepy.”

“Sure it’s not your head voices again?” said Jem

“This is different, like there is something in the house, you know what I mean?”

Kelvin shook his head and bit his left thumb nail. “Pull yourself together. Light a torch, we’re going in.”

Thist protested. “Oh no, I’m not going in there.”

“Staying out here alone then?” asked Jem.

Thist looked around. “No, I’m coming, but I’m taking another torch.”

The boys went into the cellar. Thist sandwiched himself between the other two. He clenched the torch with two hands but it still quivered a little.

“Were you freaked out by something?” said Jem.

The sound echoed back like it was a large room, or a long passage.

“That’s interesting.” said Kelvin. “You would expect this place to be small.”

Shelf after shelf revealed itself on both sides. On the left, most of the shelves were empty but for a few wine bottles.

On the right the shelves were stacked with all manner of different items.

“Whoever built this place was a madman.” said Thist.  “I don’t like it here. Can we go now?”

“What’s gotten into you?” asked Jem. “Pull yourself together.”

Kelvin pulled a bottle from a shelf and blew on the cork. “It’s full and it’s sealed.”

“Nice.” said Thist. “Let’s go up and drink it.”

The burning torchlight cast figures around them making the shadows dance like ghosts in the sinister room. The light bent and reflected around the wooden shelf frames causing apparitions on the walls that looked like stick figures with their arms raised and flailing. Thist was sweating, he grit his teeth and closed his eyes only to find the fear worsen as he lost sight of his friends.

Kelvin saw the fear in his friend’s eyes and put his hand on Thist’s shoulder and raised his torch to the right position. “If you set fire to anything then this old, dry, wooden and dusty tavern will burn faster than we can find our way out. Keep your head strong. We will be out just now.”

Thist nodded. “Okay.”

“Try to find something interesting and useful.” suggested Jem.

Thist focused his vision on the bottom of the torch, trying not to look into the light as this would blind him. He then moved to the shelf closest to him. There were trinkets and baubles of all shapes, but mostly small. The top shelves were neatly packed and the bottom was untidily stashed hoard.

“It seems that great care has been taken for the middle and top shelves.” said Jem.

Thist kept his focus on the task by mouthing the names of objects that he saw. “Music box, ladies boots, oil lamp, matching gold bangles, buttons, jewellery box…” he flipped the lid and peered inside, “Empty,” Thist was perplexed, “Hey guys, why would you put a set of gold bangles on a dusty shelf next to an empty jewellery box?”

Kelvin examined the objects in question. “I think I know what is happening here. This is like a bank where the tavern keeper stored people’s valuables, probably as collateral for unpaid tavern bills.”

Thist mouthed on as he walked by the first shelf, “Belt buckle, leather whip…wow, this is a nice whip.”

Thist shook the dust from the whip and hung it over his neck and kept on picking. “Rubbish, rubbish, jewellery box, with ring.” He examined the ring. “Nice ring.” it was spotless as it had been looked after and stashed in a good jewellery box. “Are we going to leave this stuff here or can we take it?”

Jem whistled as he thought. “I don’t know, this place has been forgotten and left to ruin. May I suggest that all this stuff is as good as lost, and we have found it without owners?” said Jem. “I guess we could call it salvage if we take something that’s valuable to us.”

“I’m definitely keeping this whip then.” said Thist.

“Oh look.” said Jem. “Here is a treasure chest.”

On the floor by Jem’s feet was a small traveller’s chest, big enough for two pairs of boots. He lifted the lid. Inside was the find of a lifetime. The chest was brim full of gold coins. “Oh snap. What is the bet that we just found more gold than we would ever have gotten for the diamonds?”

“I heard one diamond like that is worth about five gold coin each.” said Thist “we have one hundred and seventy two diamonds.” said Thist.

Kelvin was struck by gold fever. He was on his knees, counting gold coins. “There are at least two thousand coins here, we are rich.” He lay down on his back and poured handfuls of gold on himself. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”