Finding The Soul Bridge (The Soul Fire Saga Book 1) Read online

  The tops of the grasses were swaying in unison, as if they were dancing to the tune of the fresh breeze. In the distance was a wisp of cloud on the horizon and the sun was high.

  Jem was thirsty from all the climbing. He was also the water carrier but dare not drink until all three friends were together. That was the rule.

  “Come on!” shouted Jem. “What are you guys loitering for?”

  “Ahoy!” shouted Kelvin “This patient is sinking.”

  Kelvin was talking about Thist. He was still in a battle with his head demons and getting distracted by voices. The affliction seemed to be more annoying as it was hampering progress, like caring for a wounded soldier in battle.

  “Why again?” asked Jem. “I thought that he had ‘found himself’ in the cave, whatever that means.”

  They sat down for a drink.

  “What am I to do?” asked Thist.

  “Maybe you just need the right potion.” said Kelvin, as he gazed at the horizon, his long hair whipping in the gusts.

  “I think you are tired.” said Jem. “Maybe it’s difficult to control your unruly voices when you are exhausted.”

  Thist took a gulp of water, “I think you are right, but I think the voices are trying to tell me something. I’m starting to understand more of what they are blabbering about and the more I listen, the more they talk. I honestly don’t know what is more exhausting, listening to them or the walk up this hill.”

  The wisp of cloud had become two wisps. The boys climbed on towards the top of the mountain. Thist had picked up the pace albeit muttering a steady “Left foot, right foot, left foot...”

  The total focus on the mundane was helping, “Just get through the day.” said Thist.

  The mountain had turned out to be deceptive in its shape. It was a small outcrop from the distance. A moderate hill from closer, but it was turning out to be an almost insurmountable leviathan.

  Jem stopped in the lead and waited for his friends, who were now lagging a few minutes behind him. He gazed at the clouds on the horizon and thought aloud “These billowing wisps of white clouds do not bode well my friends.”

  Kelvin and Thist staggered up the rear just to flop at Jem’s feet.

  They drank deeply, Kelvin wanted to protest the water usage but before he could speak Jem said, “It’s okay. It will rain tonight, we can fill it.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Kelvin.

  “You know I know weather.” said Jem.

  Kelvin glanced up and had a double take. “Wow, you are right. It’s going to be nice taking a rain shower again.”

  “What’s with you and rain-showering?” said Thist.

  “I just love it.” said Kelvin.

  The clouds were like fingers from hell coming towards them. A rolling vortex was spinning on its side on the distant mountain, sucking clouds over and spilling cascades of white into the valley facing them. The belching of moisture over the mountains was nothing new to the trio but they had never seen it split into two. One finger of cloud was spilling over the hillside, covering everything in an ominous blanket, the other gathering above into a storm.

  “We better make shelter.” said Kelvin.

  “We better make that hut.” said Jem.

  “What’s making those clouds?” asked Thist.

  “Come on Thist.” urged Kelvin in a rushed tone. “Time for lolly-gagging is over. Move your legs and feet a little faster.”

  The boys picked up the pace to a jog. The air had chilled, giving the wind an icy bite. The hut had periodically disappeared behind an outcrop or boulder as they climbed. They rounded a bend and were startled to find what they had thought to be a hut was a large round structure. It was a house with a big round roof and a long overhang, much bigger in stature than perceived from a distance.

  A doorway seemed to be on the left side, built facing away from most directions that the wind could come from.

  A faint puff of smoke escaped from the roof, a blind chimney in the centre. Jem hesitated. The hut, as they had called it was inhabited and well maintained.

  “This way.” said Kelvin as if he knew the way.

  The house was recessed into the ground and the path to the only door wended downward again behind rock faces and curved walls.

  “Wait.” shouted Thist.

  “What?” shouted Kelvin and Jem in unison.

  They stood motionless for a few seconds as the first drops of rain started to fall. Then they heard a lonely howl from what sounded like a timber wolf.

  “Ahoy” shouted Kelvin “We are friendly travellers, weary and cold. Please let us pass.”

  “Who lives up here?” shouted Jem.

  “I.” said a voice. “I is who lives here.”

  An elderly man wrapped in an old blanket came shuffling from the doorway. “Shh!” He shushed his hound. “Yous better put away yous sticks, Butch doesn’t likes sticks. Come in, yous must be freezing is.”

  Kelvin put away his makeshift walking stick. “Sir, you are very kind. My friends and I have come a long way and we seek shelter for the night.”

  “Yes. Yes. Come in, come in, go lie down Butch. What is yous called young man?”

  “I am Kelvin, this is Jem, and Thist”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes come in. Yous better have good stories to tell is.” He eyed each boy as they entered into the room. His eyes lingering on Thist as he scrutinized him while stroking his beard; he smelled at Thist and then drew his face away suddenly. “Well-travelled young man. Very well-travelled. Last one in is shut the door tightly is… please.”

  It was one big round room inside. All the amenities of the house were visible with no internal walls. It was warm inside with a small fire in the centre. The thick reed thatch was the roof and the ceiling and it looked well maintained like the outside. Most of the furnishings inside were neat and clean. To the east of the house was a large table that was covered in scrolls, piles of books and antiques. There were metallic objects and carved wooden items, small jewellery chests and a row of assorted tools.

  “We don’t get many travellers in these parts yous knows. Yous must be lost is.”

  “Could we trouble you for something to eat?” asked Jem.

  “Oh well I don’t has much, I really don’t has much. Yous know I is an old man is you know, I thinks yous is asking too much is, yous know, I could give yous shelter that I has enough of.”

  “I could trade you some hum.” said Jem.

  “Oh!” Exclaimed the old man “Hum, oh what a delightful surprise, why isn’t yous say so? For just a spoon full I could give yous good meat preserve we just warms it on the fire yous see.”

  The old man walked slowly to an area in the house that looked like warehouse shelving, neatly carved and jointed. All the shelves were supported by each other in ‘aytch’ configurations and slotted into each other so that you had to walk a zigzag through them to get to the center. It was a wonderful space saver and you could stack many items, all accessible. The old man came out of the maze of shelving with a jar filled with meat and corn preserve. It was not a favorite food of the town where they were from but the boys were so hungry that they could only be grateful.

  The trade seemed fair at first but the old man had taken advantage of the situation. Hum was only found in the town where the boys were from and only in the eastern part. Many travellers would go there seeking their fortune in hum, only to be disappointed in how difficult it was to extract from the ants.

  18

  Thist shivered.

  The cold weather had come in and the wind howled as the rain drove in from the side. Thist couldn’t sleep. Kelvin and Jem had fallen asleep quickly but Thist remained awake. He stared through the window at the darkness, the loud rain drowned out the lingering whispers of the voices that still haunted him.

  “What is they saying to yous?” asked the old man.

  “What?” Thist startled, jumped to his feet and knocked over his empty dish.

  The two men locked gazes for a long moment be
fore the old man said with a deep tone. “The voices son, I is hear them too. They is speaking to yous, don’t they?”

  Thist stood next to the tattered old chair where he had been sitting moments earlier, his dish lying next to his feet. He stared at the old man, then uttered. “How do you know about the voices?”

  “I is hear them, they speak to yous. I is started to hear them before yous three came in the door.”

  “Yes.” said Thist. “I hear voices, they started to come to me just as our journey was starting, at first only a few, then many. I don’t know why.”

  “Are yous is the bearer of the treasure?” inquired the old man.

  Thist looked startled again at the man’s words. “Treasure?” asked Thist, trying to look surprised. “What are you talking about old man? How can you know about something that you cannot know about?”

  Thist had trusted Jem and Kelvin because he knew that he could. They would not have told the old man about the diamonds that he carried. He put his hand in his pocket and felt the diamonds in the pouch. They ground together like gravel underfoot.

  The old man made a friendly gesture for Thist to sit down as he pulled a chair closer for himself. “I is tell yous a story from long ago.” The old man’s eyes seemed to be looking deep into the past as he gazed out of the window, his whole body and soul seemed ancient. His long grey beard was thinning and he wore a tattered cap on a bald head. His shoulders hunched and he shuffled his feet when he walked, clutching his cane so tightly that his knuckles became white.

  Thist sat down on his chair close to the old man and wrapped himself in a blanket.

  “This world is vast is.” began the old man, pointing a stern finger at the ground. “Bigger than yous can imagine. It is also old is, so very old. Many, many years ago there is two villages not far from here, maybe three days travel back the way that yous is come from.”

  The old man was passionate about his story and explained vigorously with hand gestures. “The villages is disagreed about land that is divided them. It is rich and good for growing crops is. One day an evil druid is cast a spell that is trap the souls of anyone who is drink from a flask of water that he is made. Their souls is trapped in a diamond, one diamond is for one soul is. He is cast an affliction on the villagers that he loathed and then he is go there to give them the water, claiming that it is the cure is.”

  Thist’s eyes were wide with wonder. “No?”

  “Yes.” said the old man, raising his bushy eyebrows. “All the villagers is disappeared is. Every soul from that village is in a diamond is.”

  “No!” said Thist. “I don’t believe it!”

  “It is true.” said the old man, “The diamonds is all collected together by the druid, who kept them for himself for a long time. But the souls could still be heard and it is made him mad. He is threw them into a river and they is lost…until now. You is have them, or at least most of them… where is they?”

  “That’s nonsense.” said Thist. “The other guys don’t hear the voices.”

  “They can’t.” said the old man. “They don’t have the gift! Only yous do.”

  “What gift?” said Thist. “Hearing the voices all the time is a curse.”

  “Oh my boy, yous gift is powerful! Don’t yous know what yous can do? You have power; surely it is not escaped yous?”

  Thist looked confused, mesmerized, and frightened. He knew he was special, he knew he had some kind of gift but now for the first time he had met a stranger that could tell him more.

  “How do you know all this?” said Thist.

  “I is hear the voices too.” said the old man. “I is also has the gift.”

  Thist was quiet for a long time. He considered the old man’s words.

  “So they are diamonds?” asked Thist.

  “Yes. But their value is not in the diamonds is but in the souls they is carrying.”

  “Do you know how to stop their incessant chatter?” asked Thist.

  “Have yous tried listening to them?” said the old man. “Or talking back?”

  “I’ve told them to shut up.” said Thist. “That seemed to work for a while.”

  “Some of those souls is important people, some is children, all is confused and all of them is still alive is…in a way.”

  “If yous separate them and listen to them one by one then yous might learn somethings valuable.” said the old man. “Tell yous what son, I is make you some special tea, it will help yous to sleep is. Yous look like yous could use the rest.”

  “That would be fantastic.” said Thist. “I would love a good night’s sleep.” He was exhausted; body, mind and soul but he was also afraid of falling asleep lest he have nightmares again.

  The old man shuffled to his kitchenette. It was a crude stack of kitchen items balancing on a wicker table. His hands were gnarled and rickety but he seemed to transform into a brewing machine, mixing up a concoction of great wonder. Thist dozed a little, jerking himself awake as if something was constantly disturbing him. The old man watched him as he mixed herbs into boiling water. He cooled it with some fresh rain water, and tasted it, added a smidge of hum and stirred rapidly, tasted it and stirred it again.

  Thist heard a voice. “It’s the colour, the colour must be right.” The old man was still busy at the other end of the hut. The voice was clearer than before.

  The rain was hammering the window. The gaps in the sash let through a small draft and some rain water as it leaked. It smelled fresh with a hint of cold.

  “Why can’t I sleep?” he thought.

  “You have to awaken first.” said a voice.

  Thist sat up, rubbed his face hard with both hands and tried to concentrate; he could feel an energy flowing into his face and limbs.

  “Oh my.” said the old man “Yous is very restless is.”

  “How long was I asleep?” asked Thist.

  “Oh just a minute.” said the old man. “Did yous dream at all?”

  “Yes. A voice just said you were trying to get the colour right.”

  The old man looked startled, he tried to hide the fact but failed. “The tea is ready.” said the old man. “Drink it, it is makes yous sleep but yous is dream about the souls in the diamonds that yous carry.”

  “I don’t know if I want that?”

  “It is said that yous will not stop hearing the voices once they is started,” said the old man. “Even if yous throws all the diamonds far away, they is speak to yous over any distance. This is the only way is.”

  “What?” asked Thist.

  “You is become the bearer.” said the old man. “They speaks to yous. Yous must learn to speaks to them and control when they speaks to yous.”

  “You have to tell me how you know this.” said Thist.

  The old man looked burdened. “I can tell yous but I cannot.”

  Thist sipped the tea, it was vile. He sipped some more, it became worse. The tea fell on its own after taste and lingered.

  “Wait, if this stuff makes me sleep deeply,” said Thist “Then how do I know you are not going to steal my diamonds.”

  “Don’t be a fool is.” said the old man. “I cannot run from yous, I is as old as these hills. I cannot run, besides, I do not want yous curse.”

  “I thought you said it was a gift?” Thist’s eyes started to get heavy; he sipped some more tea.

  “Oh no, it is a curse alright,” said the old man “and after yous see their faces there is be no turning back for yous.”

  Thist could feel himself fading into sleep. The feeling was welcome but he fought it as he stammered “Curse you old man, curse you to…”

  Thist slumped.

  19

  Thist brushed his hand over his sleeves.

  The air was soft and cool, like early morning spring rain. He took in deep breath after deep breath; it had never felt so fresh before. The dream was clear, vivid but surreal. While he was dreaming he knew that he was walking in the dream world. He had always had a fantasy of being able to control his
dreams, to see what he wanted to see, and do what he wanted to do and he felt like he could do that now.

  “I’m dreaming.” he said.

  “Yes.” said a beautiful voice.

  He turned and saw a gorgeous young lady wearing a pretty summer frock, barefoot with long flowing blond hair. Her skin was immaculate like a polished porcelain doll. She seemed to float over the lush, green meadow, with colourful flowers all around her; bright yellow, white, red and lavender. The birds sang sweet tunes and butterflies flapped at her ankles. As Thist decided to change something in his dreams it changed and everything moved slower. He could see the butterfly wings open and close, the colours became brighter but the girl’s face…he looked at her face.

  She was coming to him, he could see her but not, “I’m dreaming.” he said.

  “Yes.” her voice was like medicine for sore ears.

  Her face was there but not there.

  “Who are you?” asked Thist, his voice sounding far away.

  “I am Skyla, one of the forsaken.”

  An icy chill passed over Thist like cold water down his neck.

  “Forsaken?”

  “Yes, I am one of the voices in your head.”

  “The old man gave me tea, he said I will see faces, but I don’t see your face.”

  “I have forgotten what my face looks like. That is why you do not see it.”

  “Do you know the old man?”

  “The druid that felled our village is fallen himself; his soul is in a diamond. The shaman who gave you the tea has the fallen druid’s diamond.”

  The lady started to skip away, slowly and majestically. Thist tried to follow, he called after her “Skyla wait, Skyla!”

  She started to fade away, “The others will come, have some more tea.”

  “Wait!” shouted Thist as Skyla faded. “Tell me about the fallen druid.”

  “I cannot, it hurts to feel about that, but we have waited for you Thist.”

  And just like that she was gone.

  Thist fumbled through the meadow calling after Skyla. “Skyla. Skyla wait. Skyla, what do you mean ‘shaman’?”