by Zax Vagen
Kelvin stopped explaining his dream, “How can you know that like you were there?”
“I had exactly the same dream down to the last exact words the people used.”
“It’s the tea that Thist makes.” said Kelvin. “It gets him all ruffled up and if we drink it we get it as well.”
Kelvin seemed to have an uncanny gift to know what had happened just by looking at the things that lay around. “You know Jem; this place didn’t run down before the tavern keeper killed himself. It fell into disrepair right after he died. It was in good nick before. I just realized something else, looking at Thist and the situations that I saw in the dream.”
“What?” asked Jem.
“The tavern keeper cut the bridge on purpose,” said Kelvin, “I just know it.”
Jem looked at the tattered old bridge remains as the rotting pieces dangled in the distance. They were barely visible, but they were there, swaying in the breeze. “I wonder why he would cut the bridge.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” said Kelvin. “We are going to start the new one. We will cross it and then leave the unfinished bridge for someone else to complete. We have spent far too much time loitering and preparing for this and I’m sick of this stupid haunted tavern, aren’t you?”
Thist raised his head just a little and waved his index finger in front of his neck.
“Yes.” agreed Kelvin as he nodded at Thist’s gesture. “It’s decided then. We will cross today or die trying, is the grapple and rope ready Thist? Let’s load this puppy.”
Thist opened one eye and signalled to Kelvin with one thumb up in the air. Then he gestured for Jem to come closer as he tried to speak. Jem approached, and Thist croaked, “You have to speak to the grapple and give it your instructions.”
Kelvin and Jem retrieved the grapple and rope where Thist had cast his imbuing spell. The two buckets that Jem and Kelvin had used to throw water on Thist were lying to one side in a pool of mud. Jem laughed at the buckets, “That is the second time today that we had to wake him with buckets of water.”
“That is rather funny,” agreed Kelvin, “But what if he decides to faint when he is halfway across the bridge?”
Jem considered Kelvin’s notion. “Let’s jump that bridge when we get there.”
“Yes, we have to build the bridge first.” said Kelvin. “Are you sure that it is going to work?”
“The potential is there, but I’m not sure what Thist has done to the shot. So we will see.” said Jem.
Jem loaded the heavy shot at the far end of the Trebuchet, he stroked the grapple.
“Now you fly high and true and carry the rope across the canyon, see?” said Jem.
Jem felt a little awkward giving instruction to a grapple. Kelvin had taken the rope over the top shaft of the trebuchet and had started to wind large coils in front of it so that the rope would unwind as it was pulled away by the shot.
“Come on Thist.” shouted Jem, “Its show time, come and see your baby fly!”
Thist opened his bloodshot eyes and stared for a moment at the trebuchet and the rope and shot. He looked over at the far side of the canyon. There were no figures loitering in harm’s way. “One thing.” he said. “Did you tie off the end of the rope so that when it flies into the sky one end is anchored here?”
Jem covered his mouth as he gasped; a chill ran down his spine, “Imagine if we shot the rope across without tying it off?”
Kelvin stared at the loose end of the rope for a second, “That would have been stupid.” He started to tie it off to the main pillar on their side of the canyon.
“Okay, let’s fire the sucker.” shouted Jem.
Kelvin held the string in his hand that would release the firing pin and checked with the other two, “Everything ready?”
Thist folded his arms and squinted to the far side to check if all was clear. “It’s now or never.” said Jem.
At that Kelvin counted down. “Three…two…one.”
Kelvin pulled the pin. The grapple dragged across the firing bed. As the counterweight moved down and forward, the boom swung past to the left and up at an increasing pace. The grapple started to glow as soon as it lifted into the air. The upgrades to the trebuchet were working. The extra power was evident in how the machine creaked and jerked. The glowing grapple flew from the ground. It swung in an arc and soared at an angle to the ground over the canyon, flying straight for a long time. The rope following the shot as it was pulled, hissing and whipping up dust as it uncoiled from the ground. The three boys shielded their eyes from the sunlight as they watched the grapple reach the apex of its trajectory and started to arc back down. “It’s working.” shouted Thist as he jumped out of the chair.
On the far side of the canyon was a narrow wedge of rock near the pillar, a perfect place to snag the rope. The grapple was careening straight toward it as it came down on the far side of the canyon.
Jem, Thist and Kelvin stared for a long while as they saw the rope cascading down on the far end. It was hard to make out if the grapple and rope had hit its mark and snagged or not.
Thist looked impressed with himself. “Tea anyone?” he offered.
Kelvin looked at him, in surprise, “Your grapple shot worked very well, but I think you should lay off the tea for a while, don’t you? We don’t need you to fall asleep and have funky dreams when you get halfway across the bridge.”
Jem nodded. “I think you need to pace yourself on the tea. The imbuing job was unbelievable but I doubt if you can do more than one per day. Have you seen what your face looks like?”
Thist looked perplexed. He didn’t know if he should feel complimented or insulted.
“What’s wrong with my face?” said Thist.
Kelvin was impressed by the shot, even a good trebuchet should never have made that distance even with Jem’s newly invented upgrades. “Go and find a mirror.” said Kelvin.
38
Tayah sighed.
She had been feeding Thist’s lorikeets every day since he had disappeared. Every time she stood in the aviary she would look at the birds and see the longing in their eyes or maybe she was just feeling her own sorrow. She stroked her neck and ran her hand down her chest and over her waist. The aviary hadn’t been cleaned in weeks and the smell was becoming worse. It made her nauseous and she decided to ask one of the other young men to help her clean it. She wasn’t prepared to do it herself but she knew it had to be done.
She had felt a deep connection with Thist when they were in each other’s arms in the strawberry field. Over the past two months her feelings for him had grown stronger and she ached for him. One of the lorikeets perched on her shoulder and sang a long chirpy birdsong. Tayah looked at the lorikeet as it sang and felt her connection with Thist wrench at her soul. “How could he just leave so suddenly” she asked the lorikeet. “What is wrong with him?”
“Cheap!” chirped the lorikeet.
Tayah looked away as if embarrassed but it was just a silly bird. The lorikeet looked Tayah in the eye and then cocked his head to one side and chirped a strange tune before flitting to the perch.
Tayah threw out the dish of old water onto the ground with a splat. It dissipated into the droppings on the floor of the aviary. She filled the dish from a jug that she had brought with her and gave the cage a quick glance to make sure everything was fine. The spilled water had agitated the droppings, giving the smell a pungent tang that burned the throat. Tayah gagged and choked back the urge to vomit.
Tayah realized that she was fighting a losing battle. She dropped the pewter jug and made for the small wire door, flung it open and dashed out. As she fumbled to close it behind her, the one lorikeet that had perched on her shoulder darted out of the aviary and flitted to the rooftop of the nearest house. Tayah swore. “Oh no, how stupid of me!”
She latched the door and looked hopelessly at the escaped bird. It chirped a cheerful tune and Tayah was sure that it was mocking her. She called to it, “Here birdy, birdy, birdy.” The lorikeet fl
itted to the next house. Tayah lifted her long autumn dress so that she could move around quickly. She ran a few steps to try to catch up to where the bird had gone and then she stopped. She could feel her face and neck go green as the nausea overwhelmed her. She bent over and vomited on the ground. It splashed on her feet which only served to revolt her even more.
“Stupid birds.” she cursed and started to cry.
She cupped her hands over her face and wept for sorrow and loss. She longed for Thist and had promised to look after his birds. She had tried to be brave but it felt like the world was conspiring against her. She felt loss as well as lost, responsible but failed and she felt sick. Kaylah came trotting up to her with a concerned look. “Hey Tayah, are you alright there?”
Tayah started to sob with renewed vigour while trying to explain. “One of Thist’s birds escaped and I messed myself… why did those silly boys just leave like that… they didn’t even greet or anything… and he made me promise to keep his birds fed and safe… while he was…” she brushed at her dress with her hands as she gasped for breath between sobs “…he knew he was going to go… and I thought it was just one of his silly jokes… or he was trying to be romantic… Why was I so stupid?”
“Oh shame you poor dear…” Kaylah tried to console her friend “…how did he get out then? Can we catch him again? Where is he now?”
“I don’t know…” sobbed Tayah, “…he said they were going to see the circus or something.”
“No, Tayah, silly,” said Kaylah. “I mean the bird.”
Tayah pointed up to the rooftop of the second house. “He was just there a moment ago.”
The bird was gone. Tayah started to cry with passion. “How am I going to explain this to Thist…? I’m so stupid.” she stopped talking and held one hand on her stomach and the other hand over her mouth.
“What’s wrong? You look ill.” said Kaylah.
Tayah took a moment to compose herself. “It’s that stupid bird cage. It’s so dirty and stinks and it’s been getting worse. I thought it would be fine until Thist comes back but now I know I’m going to have to clean it. Do you think you can help me with that?”
Kaylah made a face that gave away her blatant unwillingness to help with the task. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can talk about it. My mom is making guinea fowl pie.”
The two girls went to Kaylah’s house just a town block away.
At Kaylah’s house Tayah just sat at the table and didn’t eat any of the pie. She looked revolted by it. Kaylah’s mother was a sweet lady with a cheerful smile and could usually lift anybody’s spirit just with her demeanour. “Oh Tayah, you look so crestfallen. You know those boys were silly to go to the circus like that. I have heard of some people who went there and were given fantastic opportunities by the circus masters. But some fell into a trap and lived a life of misery, cleaning animal cages.”
Tayah started weeping again at the thought of animal cages and how she had blundered. “I can’t understand why I am like this; I must be coming down with something. I don’t feel like eating, I was sick in the road, I’m clumsy, and if Thist was here I think I would strangle him.”
“I know that feeling.” said Kaylah’s mother. “Why don’t you have some tea, I’ll make you some quickly. Don’t feel shy now we’re all having.”
“You know, I don’t want to impose on you or anything but I would really like to have some lemon, with a sprinkle of salt.” said Tayah.
Kaylah made a disgusted face at this notion and at the same time Kaylah’s mother dropped a cup and it smashed to the floor. She ignored the cup for a second and then seemed a little confused about what to do next as she fumbled for her broom. “Lemon? Lemon? With salt?” said Kaylah’s mother, “Oh dear… Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. You are coming down with something.”
“What? What is it Mum?” said Kaylah. “Is it the affliction?”
Kaylah’s mother seemed a little stricken not knowing at first how to handle the situation until she composed herself. “No, no, it’s okay it’s just a condition that we haven’t seen in a long time.”
“Is it serious? Is there something we can do about it? Am I going to die?” asked Tayah as she started tearing up again.
“It will all be okay,” said Kaylah’s mother as she started to bite her nails. “But first we will have to get some lemon. Kaylah darling, can you go over to the grocer and buy us five lemons?”
Kaylah dashed out not knowing what the problem with her friend could be. She had been the nurse’s apprentice for the last couple of seasons and salted lemon wasn’t the cure for anything she had ever seen.
39
Thist blinked.
For a moment he could not believe what he was seeing. His face was black. The sticky juice from the berries they had eaten a day ago had combined with the dust from the workshop and had stained his face black. His eyes were a deep bloodshot red and his clothes were filthy and tattered. He had taken poor care of himself normally, but the last time he had bathed was at the shaman’s hut. His beard had grown past its normal tatty and thin boyish fluff and was now more a shock of thick black dread. His curly black hair was matted and sticky. His clothes were stiff from the dirt and dried mud. Thist exhaled and turned his face to himself and concentrated on the smell that emanated from his own body. He reeked; the stench was so vile and revolting that he felt disappointed with himself and angry with his friends. “How can they live with me? Why didn’t they tell me sooner?”
Thist had always cared less what people would think of him regardless of anything but he decided that it was time to limit how much he didn’t care what people thought.
Thist stood in front of the mirror that hung on the wall, staring at his own reflection. “It’s time.” He said to himself and turned and left the room in search of soap and water.
The water wasn’t so hard to find, but soap was in short supply. Jem had suggested that he mix some clear liquor with soda. It stung his skin a little but it felt good and smelled wonderful. He scrubbed his face and arms first and after trying to inspect himself in the mirror he found that the mirror was incredibly dirty. Thist washed the mirror, scrubbing it hard to try and get a proper reflection.
The face that looked back at Thist didn’t look the same anymore, he had changed. His face was drawn and a single lock of hair above his right eye had turned white. He didn’t look like a different person but he looked like he had grown up so much since the journey had begun that he was astounded. “What is happening to me?” he asked.
The room was quiet. The long tatty drapes that hung in the room dampened the noise from outside, a stark difference from the echoing caves. He was weary from casting his imbuing spells. He didn’t know what he was doing and it was wearing him out. He sat down on the floor and closed his eyes for a minute with his face in his hands.
Thist stood on a mountain. He was wearing just a cloth around his waist; the wind was strong and blew his curly hair straight across his face. Thist wiped his face clear of the hair and turned into the wind so that his hair would stay out of his face. A tall, long-haired figure stood to his left, facing away from him. Thist wrapped his arms around his own shoulders to shield himself from the cold. “What am I doing here?” asked Thist.
The figure turned his face towards Thist. As he turned, the wind whipped his shoulder length hair around into his face. Thist looked at him and saw that he had clearly visible features. He was well groomed. His beard was neatly trimmed around the edges. His eyebrows were thick but brushed and his hair was clean and even of length. His eyes were sapphire blue and brimming with soul-fire and he stood up straight and tall like a man of authority.
“This is your dream world.” said the man. “You choose what you look like here.”
“Why am I naked?”
“You haven’t chosen what you look like.”
Thist was freezing; he couldn’t care what he looked like now he just wanted to be warm. “Why do you have a face when the others don’t?”
“Why, is your face special in some way?”
“Not my face, your own face.” said the man. “How can you truly know who you are if you cannot remember what you look like?”
Thist’s feet were starting to hurt; he looked down and saw the snow gathering around his feet.
“Can you see what my face looks like?” asked Thist.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You cannot project what you look like to me if you cannot remember what you look like.”
“Why can’t I remember what I look like?”
“Most people are who they become over a long period of time but some, very few people, become who they choose to be. The latter will remember what they look like.”
“Which is the best?”
“A ship without a rudder will be taken to where it will end.”
“So if a person is a ship then what is his ‘rudder’?”
“Choice.”
How does that affect what my face looks like?”
“Choice cannot change what your face looks like,” said the tall man. “It can change what people see when they look at your face.”
Thist opened his eyes. He had not slept; he had just closed his eyes and spoken to one of the lost souls. He took out the pouch and tipped the contents out into his hand and looked at the stones with renewed wonder. The diamonds sparkled with their own light, all but one. One of the stones had lost its lustre and was completely dull, the rest of the handful of stones were shiny. Thist walked over to the window and let the sunlight fall on the handful of diamonds, they all sparkled evenly in the light but only one did not sparkle in the dark.
“How odd.” said Thist.
40
Kelvin looked at Thist and stroked his chin, “That is far more becoming of you, Thist.”
Jem came sauntering up to Thist from the anchoring pillar just twenty yards away. “Wow, Thist, what is the occasion?”