Finding The Soul Bridge (The Soul Fire Saga Book 1) (23 page)

43

Thist sat on the edge of the cliff, his feet dangling over the edge. He had found a shallow cave which was just an overhang of jutting rocks. The cavity was barely deep enough for him and his belongings. From his new sheltered vantage point Thist could hide from the strange group of people who seemed to mill around the shanty village just beyond the rocky outcrops. Thist watched his two friends and travel companions as they struggled with themselves and the gear. They had abandoned the strange platform-like contraption in the centre of the rope bridge and had progressed only ten yards on. He found the physical exchanges between the two boys comical; Jem was fighting the balance of the ropes to try to make good eye contact with Kelvin, who was trying to scream his own head off. It was either pain or terror or a combination of both, but not joy. Thist thought of his own experience while crossing, then nodded in sympathy and mouthed a few words of encouragement to Kelvin. “You better grow yourself a new set or your soul will be snapped in half.”

Thist watched as Jem leaned forward to Kelvin and slapped him on the cheek three times. A faint echoing sound of Jem’s voice could be heard as he shouted into Kelvin’s face, “Look at my eyes.”

The wind had come up in buffeting gusts hitting the duo as they tried to make the short journey of three hundred paces. It was probably only three thousand paces to the bottom of the canyon but the slightest fear of heights would give generously to exaggeration. Thist squinted at them as he watched Jem lean towards his distressed friend and wrap his shirt around Kelvin’s face. Kelvin could not protest as he could not let go of the ropes.

Thist shuffled himself into a comfortable spot inside his cave and lounged over his bags. He cupped his hands around his eyes to shield from the sand that was blowing in from the cliff top and from the glaring light that reflected off the mist.

The two friends on the rope were moving along again like upside down inchworms on a wash line. It bobbed and whipped as the wind tugged at it. Jem pulled himself along a few times and then turned to call back encouragement to his friend.

“That’s clever Jem.” said Thist as he realized what Jem had done to Kelvin. “You blind folded him.”

The technique of blindfolding a terrified person was difficult to do but worked well if you could pull it off. Thist remembered that it was called the ‘reft’ technique and was a useful skill for self-calming. It was first implemented to calm a fear stricken animal by throwing a dark cloth over its head. The local healer had tried it once in the tavern on a man who had become hysterical when a snake had startled him. When the tavern tea towel was thrown at him, it had covered his face and the man sank to his knees in a kneeling position. All the other tavern patrons thought that it was a party trick and laughed loudly, not realizing that the snake was still amongst them.

The wind, which had been picking up its pace, had become frigid. Thist wrapped himself in a blanket and rocked back and forth to try to warm himself. The foolish canyon crossing was a monumental undertaking in the best of circumstances. But the poor quality of equipment, lack of experience and treacherous weather was taking its toll on all three of them. He was alone and bored which made the voices chatter a little louder. There wasn’t anything he could do, but wait. He lay back, rested his head and started to doze.

Thist stood at the edge of the raging river. He was standing on the river bank with his back hard up against the cliff. He could feel the jagged edges of rock protruding into his back. He stood bare foot on a sliver of sand, his feet just touching the edge of the water. It was calm just a few inches from him, but became a torrent of violent rapids just beyond an arm’s length away. Torrents of foaming white water gushed from the rocks and an ever present thunder rolled as the noise from the powerful river clapped and echoed.

Thist stood in awe as he stared at the impossible size of the river. The deafening sound faded and became background noise. He listened and looked, drinking in the spectacle. Far on the horizon of the water, Thist could hear a large angelic choir singing a heavenly song in perfect harmony. The song echoed between the two cliffs that encapsulated the river. The echoes served to multiply the choir voices and the raging white water harmonized with the song like a giant symphony. He stood in silence, his mouth hanging open and tears streaming down his face. He knew that he was dreaming but could not bring himself to take control of such a beautiful spectacle. He let it flow over him and consume him.

As the sound of the choir voices came closer he could see a host of apparitions floating above the water. They all wore long lace gowns that covered their feet. They had long golden hair but their faces were hazy and unrecognizable as individual, but he recognized them for what they were. They were the lost souls, a whole choir full.

It was the first time that he had met with more than one lost soul in a dream and tried to make sense of the significance. He raised his right hand and waved at them as they passed and then applauded. The choir seemed as if they were going to ignore Thist and float by, oblivious. As they levelled with him, they took up places on the far bank and sang directly at him. The energy of their voices impacted him physically and soaked his soul. He could not understand a word of the language and decided that it was the tongue of angels that was saturating him. He did not resist, he let the song devour him. Tears of soul weeping streamed down his cheeks and dripped from his chin and joined the raging river. As his tears struck the river they glowed for a moment and for every tear that joined the river one face on the choir singers became visible to him.

44

“Thist!” Jem reached down to Thist’s face and gave it a few light slaps. “Thist wake up.”

“Oh, Jem…you guys made it.” Thist’s voice was groggy and rasping.

“You must come and help me.” said Jem. “Kelvin isn’t well.”

Thist stirred from his position, a little disorientated at first as he felt the rocks and packs around him. Then he remembered how close to the edge of the cliff he had perched himself. “Oh wait, have you got some light?”

“No, just be careful.” said Jem. “Can you see alright?”

It was dusk, the sun had just set and the twilight was enveloping them. “What’s wrong with Kelvin?” asked Thist.

“I’m not sure,” said Jem with his own shaky voice, “We just finished crossing the rope and it was hell. Kelvin is still stuck in his harness and I am in bad shape myself. I am scared I’m going to drop him over the edge.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” said Thist. “We cannot venture past this out crop above us though, because I’m not sure about the characters that live there. They seem a little dodgy to me.”

“Let’s just fix Kelvin up and make something to eat.” said Jem. “We are weak from hunger.”

“It’s just soup and a blanket tonight.” said Thist. “The sleeping arrangement will be very rough.”

Thist and Jem helped Kelvin out of his harness and made a camp fire. They sat around the campfire and enjoyed a warm cup of soup. It was just preserved mushrooms in boiled water. “Hunger is the best cook” said Thist. “Bottoms up, and let’s get some rest.”

Sleep came quickly to Jem and Kelvin but Thist lay awake, staring at the stars. He stoked the fire and listened to the night noises and wondered where his lorikeet was sleeping and what adventure would await them in the morning.

45

Thist woke Jem and Kelvin in the early hours of dawn. The morning stars were still shining and the silhouettes of the mountains were clear on a backdrop of pre-sunrise colours. Thist sucked in the crisp morning air through his nostrils. “Wake up you sorry looking pair. Here is some hum tea, it’s got some ‘wake you up and give you strength’ but it’s got a kick.”

Jem and Kelvin sat up. They were sore and stiff from lying on jagged rocks all night. They each had their sleeping mats, but they were tattered from weeks of travel. Jem moaned as he arched his back and stretched out. Kelvin sounded like an old man who was tired of living.

They sipped the hot tea and watched the sunrise, when they were about half way through the cup Jem said, “Where is the kick that you spoke of?”

“Oh!” said Thist cheerfully, “That only manifests if you fall asleep again. The slightest sip will send you to
‘Weirdville’
, so you may as well wake up already.”

Kelvin glared at Thist in horror, he was fully intent on snoozing a little.

“I hate you.” croaked Kelvin.

“Trust me,” said Thist “you’re going to want to be up earlier than what’s on the other side of this outcrop.

“Oh yes.” said Jem. “There are people here, are they friendly?”

Thist shook his head, “I don’t think so. I think there is something wrong with this bunch. I am sure that they will search us if they catch us, how much of the gold did you bring over from the tavern chest?”

Jem glanced at Kelvin and then back at Thist, “All of it?”

“That is a good thing I guess.” said Thist. “Maybe we can trade with them. But there are many of them and if they robbed us then we would have no means of protection.”

“No way of retribution either.” said Jem.

“Oh we have retribution alright.” said Kelvin as he patted his bow. “I could pick off fifty running soldiers with this baby before anyone gets close to me.”

“How many arrows do you have?” asked Thist.

Kelvin rummaged through his makeshift quiver. “Twenty or so.”

Thist smacked his forehead with his palm in frustration. “I’m travelling with idiots.”

Jem watched the exchange and nodded. “We don’t have to ambush them but we can lay siege upon them. Kelvin, you can hide up here and cover us with the bow while we go down and negotiate with the leader in plain sight. If there is trouble, we will give a signal and you can rain hell.”

“Maybe,” said Kelvin, “but there will be risk either way. Let’s find a safe stash for the gold and diamonds here and then you go down with just a coin or two and see how you are received.”

Thist nodded, “That sounds good. We can do it that way.”

Thist climbed up the few paces to the top where he could get a view and peered down. He was just out of earshot of the other two and could not hear Jem and Kelvin whispering.

“What’s with Thist?” asked Kelvin.

“Yeah,” said Jem, “there is something about him isn’t there?”

“What though?” said Kelvin. “Is that our old Thist or is he being funny? I mean in a new way?’

“You’re asking me?” whispered Jem. “You are the ‘knower’.”

“It’s some kind of strange stuff that I cannot make out. It’s like…” Kelvin’s voice trailed off.

“Scared? Are you scared?” asked Jem.

“You feel it too?” said Kelvin. “It’s like he…I don’t know… I feel very intimidated by him all of a sudden.”

“Intimidated? You? The jaguar slayer?” said Jem. “I’m just a little awestruck.”

“Ssshhh, here he comes.” said Kelvin.

“What?” asked Thist.

“What did you see up there?” asked Kelvin.

“What were you talking about?” demanded Thist

“Dude!” exclaimed Jem. “What happened to you?”

An awkward moment of silence ensued. Then Thist realized that Kelvin and Jem had sensed something in him. “It is complicated.” said Thist.

The three men stood frozen, the atmosphere between them had become awkward. The wind from the previous night had settled and the air was calm. There was a moment of total silence which was broken by the sound of small wings, ‘flap, flap, flap,’ the lorikeet landed on Thist’s right shoulder.

Kelvin’s face turned from questioning to knowing. “It was the crossing wasn’t it?”

Thist stood still and stared at Kelvin “What do you know?”

“Your soul found its breaking point and crossed over victoriously.” said Kelvin.

“What does that even mean?” asked Thist

“Well,” said Kelvin, “there is an old legend that every man has a soul and every soul has a breaking point that can be reached through an overload of adversity. One of two effects is permanent on the soul when this comes to pass.” Kelvin cleared his throat. “Either, your soul breaks and you are a broken man forever after that.” Kelvin cleared his throat again. “Or in very rare cases,” and he raised a hand to indicate Thist, “you cross over your breaking point and your soul becomes limitless.”

“Oh,” said Thist, “the soul crossing, not the bridge crossing.” Thist looked over to the swinging strings of rope that had carried them across the most damning part of the world. “It is ironic that it was a crossing that gave me my ‘crossing’?” 

“So, Kelvin, have you been to your breaking point yet?” asked Jem.

Kelvin shook his head, “Most people never find it. But then most people try to avoid it, I mean, who goes out looking for adversity?”

Jem nodded, “We’ve been doing a good job of finding adversity.”

“I don’t know.” said Kelvin, “I think our friend Thist here is an adversity magnet.”

Thist gave Kelvin a sly grin. “I call it adventure. You know mountains must be climbed, rivers must be crossed and caves must be explored. They are all problems that we face that are difficult at the time but conquering a challenge is fun. Can you think of any challenge or adversity that isn’t fun when you succeed?”

Kelvin stood up, his blanket still draped over his shoulders, “There is one thing.”

“What is it?” asked Jem. “I would like to avoid it.”

“War.” said Kelvin.

Thist looked at the cresting sun on the horizon. “Isn’t that the truth?”

“Well.” said Jem. “We have to get an early start, I believe Fineburg cannot be all that far anymore, is it Kelvin?”

“No,” lied Kelvin “it’s not far anymore and I think we should be about a day’s travel, half a day or less if we can buy some average quality horses.”

“Let’s get the party on the road as soon as possible then. Jem, you’re with me. Kelvin, how many arrows do you have ready?”

“Still twenty four.” said Kelvin

“Alright, that is less than I was hoping for,” said Jem, “but it will have to do I guess. Just one important thing, Kelvin.”

“Anything you say Jem.”

“No kill shots.” said Jem.

“That’s obvious.” said Kelvin.

Jem and Thist strolled down the slight incline towards the small shanty village. As they approached they could see the odd person just rising and going for a morning pee. There was no sense of urgency and there seemed to be no guard. A young maiden came out of one of the large tents and observed the two young men coming down from the cliff top. She darted back into the tent. Moments later an old gentleman came out of the tent, he was tying his black day robe around his waist with a tatty looking piece of rope. His thinning white hair was shoulder length and untidy from sleeping. He ran both his hands over his hair to straighten and slick it back.

“Kind greetings to you.” called the old man as Thist and Jem approached.

Jem darted forward with a broad smile and offered the old man a handshake, which he met sincerely with two hands. “Kind greetings to you too, sir.”

“We have been expecting you for year. It’s so good to see you. My name is Tarn. The folk here call me Uncle Tarn. You are most welcome here.”

Jem glanced at Thist and back to the old man. “Years? You’ve been expecting us for years?”

“Yes. But there was supposed to be three of you.”

“Well...” started Jem.

“There are only two of us.” said Thist. “I am Thist and this is my dear friend Jem.” Jem sensed why Thist was hiding the fact that they were three and kept his facial expression neutral. Neither Thist nor Jem glanced back to where Kelvin was drawing a bead on the old man’s left knee.

Thist put his right hand over his head and scratched the top of his left ear. This was to signal Kelvin to relax his draw but stand by to shoot if there was any sign of trouble.

Kelvin relaxed his bow. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers to try to warm them up. Then he settled into a comfortable waiting position with his bow only half drawn and resting on his thigh.

Uncle Tarn invited the pair of visitors into his hut. “Let me arrange refreshments. Gladys, please make these gentlemen some tea. She’s my daughter, we share this tent, and she takes good care of her old man.”

Jem stepped closer to the tent entrance but didn’t enter. “It is our pleasure to make your acquaintance dear sir,” said Jem, jumping straight into business, “and possibly trade for some provisions and three horses if you have three to spare.”

Uncle Tarn looked at Jem questioningly. “Three horses?”

“Or two horses and a pack mule” interjected Thist saving Jem an awkward explanation.

“We only have one horse.” said uncle Tarn, “and he is ill and will not live long, I’m sorry to say. We use the horse to travel to the nearest town for rare emergencies. Thank the stars there haven’t been any lately.”

Thist sat on a small wooden stool that was poorly carved from a tree stump. “What did you mean that you were expecting us?” asked Thist.

“There was a prophet that spoke of your coming across this river.” said uncle Tarn, “We, the believers of this prophecy, have assembled here to await your coming.”

“How long have you waited here for us?” asked Thist.

“Again,” said tarn, “the prophecy spoke of three, a slayer, a whisperer and a maker.”

Thist nodded at Uncle Tarn and spoke softly, “I am the whisperer, Jem here is the maker” and then Thist raised a finger to the sky and slowly brought it down to point at the ground just two feet away from him.

Thud. An arrow struck the soft ground where Thist was pointing.

“We are three.” said Jem. “I am sorry for the misdirection but we are three.”

Uncle Tarn looked up to see Kelvin stand up and notch another arrow. He walked down and approached the old man. A crowd of young people had gathered around the tent where Jem and Thist were. As Kelvin approached with his bow in hand, the group of young people moved away from him to make a way for him to walk. Uncle Tarn called to him in a friendly voice. “Kind greetings young man, I am Uncle Tarn.”

Kelvin relaxed his bow and greeted the old man. “Hello kind sir. I am Kelvin the jaguar slayer.”

“I knew it.” said one of the tent villagers. “The slayer has come as the prophecy foretold.”

Jem shook his head, “How could you believe in this kind of prophecy? It is unlikely; how can a prophet know that we would come?”

Tarn looked at the three young men as they stood in front of his tent. “It sure looks to me as if you three have not had a decent meal in many weeks. Let me relate the story to you over a hearty breakfast.”

The three friends exchanged glances, and Jem, who was the least shy to speak with strangers kept the conversation rolling as they went, “We have wearily travelled good sir, but we have some means. We do not mean to impose on your kindness for charity. Once we have enjoyed your hospitality we would seek to repay you.”

“Nonsense,” said Uncle Tarn “just the pleasure of new friendships and a good story of how you travelled will serve us well. Come in, I insist.”

A sizable family gathered in Uncle Tarn’s tent as his wife and seven daughters all joined in to prepare and serve a breakfast meal consisting mainly of cheeses.

The three young friends had been absent from the company of young girls for long and the way they stared was making it obvious. Thist and Jem had both exchanged bashful glances with nearly all of the girls while Kelvin seemed undeterred. Uncle tarn spoke about the finer nuances of the prophecy while ordering his daughters around like serving girls. “We have camped out here in adverse weather and hardships waiting for your arrival. Jemmah, please pass the salt. We are the second generation in this family to be out here waiting for your arrival. Stellah, send the ham around please. It seems surreal to have you here around our table, we only have breakfast you know, we fast all the rest of the day but for some water and fruit.”

“I’m curious to know,” asked Jem “how such a prophecy could come about and what your expectations are as to what or who you think we are?”

“It’s easy to explain.” said Uncle Tarn. “There is a problem in the world that nobody can solve, but the problem is so big and so bad that the world will go to ashes if the problem is not solved.”

“But where do we come in?” asked Kelvin who did a perfect job at hiding what he knew.

“Be patient Jaguar slayer.” continued Uncle Tarn “The problem can be so big that one day a person will be so desperate to find the solution that he will meditate on it. He will grapple with the puzzle until he conjures up the solution… Thaana send the ham around again please.” Uncle Tarn had command of the audience in the tent. “…but if he cannot conjure the solution, then he will make up a story in his own mind, of a hero who will come with the solution. But sometimes the person who dreams up this story will believe it so completely that he will tell others of his heroism and they will believe it too. When this person or people appear by coincidence then the prophecy is fulfilled.”