Finding The Soul Bridge (The Soul Fire Saga Book 1) (22 page)

There was no answer, the rope wobbled and bobbed. The cold mist that soaked his body dripped from his back. The chafe marks stung less and had instead turned into an inflamed burn. The throbbing of pain in his arms, back and neck harmonized with the pounding of his headache. His arms were exhausted and he could feel his neck muscles were so fatigued that he could hardly keep his head still anymore. Thist let go of the rope with both of his hands and let them dangle underneath him. He took a deep breath. Then he started to wiggle out of his wet shirt until it was bunched up around his neck. He pulled his arms out of his shirt and wrapped the sleeves of the shirt around the rope bridge and tied a knot. With his shirt off, his skin was now exposed to the rope harness and was chafing on the sores, but the shirt cradled his head like a pillow.

He drew in as deep a breath as he could, sniffing in a few drops of water through his nostrils and into his sinuses. They burned as if he had snuffed the contents of a boiling cauldron. Thist ignored his burning sinuses, and let out a shout of frustration. The sound of his shout was muffled by the deep rumble of the raging river and there was no echo.

He reached far forward and pulled himself along. His muscles no longer had a choice and the pain subsided to a dull ache. Thist could feel the rope cutting into his ribs, the bile from being seasick scorch his throat. He could feel the fire in his muscles but one thing burned hotter than all the pain in the world.

Thist’s soul had become an inferno.

41

Thist groped.

It was dark by the time he reached the other side and pulled himself up onto the outcrop. The last bit of rope had been a steep uphill battle. He had weighed the rope down during his traverse across the canyon and had stretched it, giving it too much slack. He climbed out of the canyon and lay on the cold stone for a while. He was relieved to rest his weight on something other than his raw and naked chest. The rocks were sharp and uncomfortable but they felt like a comfortable mattress in comparison to the rope.

He pulled the trailing rope a short distance until his pack of luggage filled his arms. Then he dragged himself and his pack up over one ledge and then the next while still harnessed in. Thist tried to climb out of the harness that Jem had fashioned. After a few attempts, he realized that if it took three fresh and rested guys and a struggle to get into it then one fatigued man wasn’t going to get out of it on his own. He needed his knife. Thist felt for his knife. It was on a lanyard, and he remembered that Jem or Kelvin had put it there to help him cut himself free. “Good foresight, Jem.”

It was dark. Thist couldn’t see anything as he fumbled. He couldn’t find it. He was trapped in his harness, strapped to the rope bridge. Thist sighed in frustrated resignation and started to chafe the rope harness on a sharp rock. Thist was exhausted, dehydrated, cold, wet, hurting and trapped. He shifted the rope harness higher up under his armpits and away from the burning chafe marks. He put his head down on the cold stone, took a deep sigh and tried to catch just a moment of sleep.

“You have changed.”

“Who are you?” asked Thist.

“I cannot remember.”
said a raspy old voice, neither male nor female.

“How can you not remember who you are?”

“My life was insignificant.”

“I don’t believe that,” said Thist. As he looked around for where the voice came from “Everyone’s life is significant, you must have mattered in some way, to someone else if not yourself.”

“Maybe,”
said the voice as it sounded closer.

Thist looked at where the voice was coming from. There was an apparition like a smoke cloud hovering over a pool of mud.

“What is your name?”

“I don’t know, I just am around, I hover around.”

“Are you a lost soul? Like the others?”

“Yes, that much I know, and that I did nothing before my soul was lost.”

“Why are you here?”

“I don’t know, I guess this is where I’m doing nothing today.”

“Look, nameless one, every lost soul that visits me in my dreams has a profound effect on my life, surely you are here to give me a message.”

“I saw your soul and could not help but come over to see what the light was.”

“What do you see in my soul?”

“It’s just very bright.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know, but I have never seen such a bright soul.”

“You are no help; you are more of a nuisance than anything. At least give me one lesson to help me along my way.”

The apparition looked fidgety and nervous; it writhed a little and tried to hide the fact that it didn’t have anyway.
“Sure…don’t ever be like me. My soul was lost before it was lost.”

“Are you the soul that is in the diamond that doesn’t shine on its own anymore?”

The apparition darted left and right close to his face “No.” An element of surprise was present in the voice. “The stone will shine on its own if there is a soul in it no matter what, if the stone no longer shines then it is empty, the soul has moved out.”

The apparition moved away, Thist called after it, “Wait, how does a soul leave the stone?”

“No more questions.”
said the apparition as it floated away.

Thist felt a jab in his side, he shifted to get more comfortable and the jab became a sharp stab. Thist woke up with pain shooting into his side. He opened his eyes and moved his hand to his where he felt the sharpness and discovered the knife that was on the lanyard, it was there all along. He grabbed the knife and started cutting the rope harness and freed himself.

“What a day.”

Thist freed himself from the rope harness and climbed up the last bit of sloped rocky cliff-top. His whole body was still exhausted from the crawl across the rope and he was shaky, weak and still clumsy from slumber. Thist banged his right knee on a sharp rock just hard enough to wake him up completely.

Thist swore and rubbed his knee with his right hand while clinging to the outcrop with his left. The ground was moist from the ever present mist.

He reached the old pillar where the grapple had snagged, sat down on a rocky outcrop and observed the sunrise. The sun lit the edge of the horizon with a shimmering strip of bright yellow, gaining purchase in the sky and lighting the world. He absently rubbed his banged up knee and nodded at the sunrise. “A new life starts today, I promise.”

Thist’s words were not yet cold when he heard the familiar chirp of a lorikeet.

He turned his head to the right and saw the lorikeet execute a soft landing on his right shoulder. “This is going to be a good day.” He smiled at the lorikeet. “Hello chirpy. You either escaped, or someone set you free.”

Thist was so elated to see his favourite lorikeet that his heart raced with too many emotions at once to process any at all. He was grateful for the company as he would be alone on this side of the raging river, at least for a while.

“Let’s do our chores shall we.” said Thist settling into a conversation with his bird.

The lorikeet chirped back every time Thist spoke, giving him a sense that someone was listening. He had raised the lorikeet by hand from a hatchling and was surprised how attached the bird had become to him and he to it.

He followed the rope bridge to where it was anchored with the grapple between the wedges in the rock. As he approached he saw that the grapple had split its eye open. Only the knot was snagged, just a slight vibration in the rope would have been enough to unsettle it causing him to plummet to the bottom of the raging river. A chill ran down Thist’s spine. “Now I understand why the guys drew straws for going first.”

“Chirp!”

“Let’s tie this off properly and the second one that I brought.” said Thist.

“Chirp!”

Thist laboured to put tension on the rope. It was a heavy burden that pulled itself under its own weight across the canyon. The second rope was slung onto the first making it heavier. The instruction from Jem was to tie them securely on this side at least three yards apart. The two ropes, spaced a short distance apart with ties in between, would make for a more stable crossing and start the foundation for the new rope bridge.

“How is everyone back at town?” asked Thist.

“Chirp!”

Thist sat down on a flat outcrop and stared across to the far side. “The other two are probably still sleeping.”

“Chirp!”

How is Tayah? Did she look after you well?”

“Chirp!”

“How did she feel after we left?”

“Cheap!”

Thist looked up at the far horizon, a deep longing for home gripped his heart and he missed Tayah now more than ever. “I didn’t know it before but I guess now I do. Only when you are away and alone do you figure out who you truly love.”

“Chirp!”

“You showing up didn’t help.”

“Chirp!”

Thist sighed, “Your advice is utterly poor.”

“Chirp!”

Thist looked at the lorikeet and listened inwardly. He could hear the faint chatter of voices like a crowd in the distance, they had become like white noise. It sounded like the flow of a stream or the wind in the trees, something had settled them. “I wonder what caused a soul stone to go dull. How can the soul leave, what causes that?”

The lorikeet darted up to a higher rock and sang a cheerful morning song at the sunrise. Thist listened and drank in the beautiful sound, and took a moment to enjoy the beauty around him; the mist over the canyon, the red and orange of the sunrise, the landscapes of forest, the jagged mountains and valleys rising and falling in the distance.

The smell of early morning was punctuated by the smell of oiled rope, wet clothes and a waft of camp fires.

Thist, now curious about the smell of fire, climbed a little higher to see over the outcrops and jutting rocks. Just a few hundred yards away was a makeshift village of tents and bevy shacks. The people in the shack village were just stirring. Some breakfast fires were being stoked out of the smouldering campfires and a couple of women were carrying water. He didn’t know if the group was friendly or not so he ducked his head behind a rock and headed back to the rope bridge.

He looked over to the far side and could barely see Jem standing on the edge peering back at him. He stood up and made large waving arm signals. He watched as Jem signalled to Kelvin and pointed back at him. If Jem was trying to tell him something then the message was lost in translation. “Oh well, I hope they hurry up.” said Thist as he scratched his chafe wounds.

42

Jem and Kelvin had watched Thist’s painful attempt at crossing the canyon the day before and had decide to do things differently. They would attempt the crossing both at the same time. That way they could help each other if the harnesses or trailers got snagged. The other problem that they had was how to get harnessed in if you were the last guy, and staying two more days in the haunted tavern could drive the last guy mad.

Jem had devised a cunning plan to take a resting platform along. It was just a small wooden deck supported by ropes and slung from the incomplete rope bridge.

Kelvin was helping Jem load the rope bridge with all their equipment. The bridge wasn’t much of a bridge yet, just two very long thick ropes strung across the canyon and pulled tight.

“At least it would be a little stable.” said Jem.

“Compared to what?” asked Kelvin.

“Compared to what Thist had to do.” said Jem as he shook his head and bore his teeth in a gritting gesture. “I’m glad I didn’t get the short straw.”

“I wonder how he is doing.” said Kelvin. “I think the harness chafed him hard.”

“Well, he made it alright.” said Jem. “I’m just dreading my turn.”

“The three of us both.” said Kelvin.

“You mean the two of us both.” said Jem. “Thist has already crossed.”

Kelvin shot Jem a frown. “You know what I mean!”

Jem whistled a monotonous tune to try and distract himself from the coming task of crossing. He and Kelvin knew that they had to start as soon as possible to make the best of all the daylight.

Jem tied Kelvin into the harness and showed him the two ropes that he had fashioned to tie off for safety. “Always keep one tied no matter what, we may have to climb over each other from time to time, or help each other tow the load.”

“Plus,” said Kelvin, “we are going to have to rest every so often on your mobile deck.”

Jem nodded at his contraption. “I call it the under slung canyon bridge ferry, it’s going to be popular one day.”

Kelvin scrutinized the assembly of planks and ropes and shook his head. “No it’s not.”

Jem drew a deep breath for courage. “Let’s get to it, we’re burning daylight.”

The two boys were fully kitted and attached for safety. They crawled onto the rope bridge, hanging from the harnesses, pushing and pulling themselves and their cargo along. At first they were a little clumsy until they had worked out a rhythm. They tried to keep their minds occupied during the mundane task of moving forward at a snail’s pace.

“Any boring task is easier if you have good company.” said Kelvin

“Then I feel sorry for Thist during his crossing,” winced Jem. “He was alone.”

“No.” Kelvin chuckled as he heaved himself forward. “He had his voices.”

“Did you see how sick he got near the middle?” said Jem.

“Shut up Jem,” scolded Kelvin “you’re making me queasy…but keep talking, I need the distraction.”

Jem stopped moving for a moment and looked down. He felt nauseous as he became aware of how the rope swayed in the light breeze. He closed his eyes and gripped the rope. In his mind Jem transported himself to his childhood days. His mother would push him on a swing and he would laugh and insist on more. He matched the image of himself swinging from the small rope swing to the feeling of his body swaying to and fro.

“Come on Jem,” shouted Kelvin, “you’re holding me up, remember we are tied together.”

Jem raised his arms from their free hanging position and pulled himself forward. Hanging upside down he looked back at the progress they had made and his heart sank. They had covered only about twenty paces. His arms were tired and his neck hurt from supporting the hanging weight of his head for so long. “This is going to take the whole day, isn’t it Kelvin?”

“Pace up Jem,” said Kelvin. “The only way out is through.”

As the day waxed on Jem became more fatigued and Kelvin more insistent that they just keep moving on. At midday Kelvin suggested that they stop and try to climb into the under slung platform for a rest and a snack. It was harder to do as everything bounced and swayed. They eventually managed to get into a less uncomfortable position on the platform and had a chance to stretch their arms and legs and hold their heads upright.

They ate a light meal of fruit and water for energy as a heavy packed meal of leftovers would have made them feel lethargic.  Being hungry but slightly fed always made them feel motivated.

Jem adjusted the knots and ropes to give them the comfort that a change in position could give, and started to climb back into canyon crossing mode. He scanned the far horizon and breathed in the cool air. “Kelvin.”

“What?”

“We have a situation.”

“What now?” Kelvin had not seen what Jem had seen.

“The weather is going to spoil our crossing in less than an hour.”

No sooner had Jem spoken than a gust of wind buffeted them.
The ever present mist roiled in swirls and coiling eddies. The ropes creaked as they swayed and stretched.

Kelvin’s face flushed at the prospect of having to do the rest of the journey over the rope bridge in a howling storm. “Let’s just ditch everything that we don’t need and climb for our lives.” said Kelvin in a panic.

They had also packed sacks with gold coins from the cellar chest, berry wine, berries, clothes that they had scavenged from the old tavern and all their other stuff.

“We cannot ditch everything, surely.” protested Jem.

“At least leave the platform and make an effort to cover ground quickly.” said Kelvin.

“I have an idea.” said Jem. “Let’s leave everything here and just take the trailing rope with us. When we get to the other side we can just pull it all in.”

“Let’s do that.” said Kelvin.

The two boys heaved at their weight, forcing themselves into a steady rhythm. Kelvin kept on battering Jem with motivation and scare tactics. “The wind isn’t going to get weaker Jem. Pace up Jem. Try harder Jem.”

Kelvin wasn’t going to admit anything but the fear of heights, motion sickness, and all of his own inner monsters were starting to take their toll.

A cold wind could be heard echoing through the canyon from far away. The sound was loud and running ahead of itself, hailing its imminent arrival. The gust whooshed as it stirred the mist from the canyon. Kelvin looked at the approaching wind with horror. It could be seen approaching like a dust cloud on a desert. His skin broke out in hives and goose bumps and his throat disobeyed his command of silence and let out a wail of terror as tears flooded his eyes.

Jem turned to Kelvin who was a stricken figure and watched as his friend was consumed by fear. “Kelvin, Kelvin, look into my eyes! Kelvin!”

Kelvin turned to Jem and Jem saw that the pupils of his eyes were dilated like black holes in his face.