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

by Zax Vagen

  The ball of flaming sting nettles had fetched its target perfectly. It smoked like a thousand burning trees and caused the illusion that the entire keep was on fire. The thick smoke was heavy and permeated through every part of the castle. It was thick enough so that each building in the keep was hidden from the next. The eyes of every person and animal would burn from the smoke for a day and leave them with itchy, scratchy throats and a bitter taste in their mouths. Thist stood in his position like a lone magician of mischief at the far end of the castle entrance bridge. He was only one hundred paces out of bow range from the castle. The smoke poured out of the castle gate and over the battlements.

  Thist stood and watched as the wind wafted his hair and coat. The castle gate opened. Twenty foot soldiers advanced on Thist. He could see the purpose in their stride; they were sent to hunt him, but he was ready. Thist gave a hand signal over his head with a grin and waited just a few seconds. He gave the hand signal again but still nothing happened. He had given Kelvin instructions as to which specially imbued arrow to fire for this given situation, but nothing was forthcoming from the sky.

  The soldiers’ advance was too close and Thist turned and ran for his life. He ran toward the ancient forest where Jem had built his trebuchet. The soldiers followed Thist and were gaining on him. As Thist reached the edge of the tall and ancient tree line he pulled the thin black cloak over himself. The black sheet was cut out of an old tent from the village. He had imbued it with just a small amount of magic that would allow the wearer to look exactly like an ethereal forest wisp. He ducked behind a tree to catch his breath as the soldiers rushed into the gloomy tree line. Right on time the forest wisps appeared and at their arrival the soldiers’ moral seemed to waver.

  The commander of the patrol held up his hand for his group to stop. “Spread out!” He commanded “He can’t have gone far.”

  The group advanced in a wide sweeping motion for the distance of about ten rows of trees. The wisps came rushing at them and stopped just before they collided with a soldier, then they disappeared into the undergrowth. Some of the soldiers lashed out at them with their swords but struck nothing. The exercise was futile.

  Meanwhile, Thist had doubled back to the start of the tree line to deliver a crippling blow to the soldier’s morale. He ran along the edge of the forest, from two hundred paces up, all along the edge to the same distance past. As he ran he threw magically imbued ancient forest tree seeds by the handful. These seeds were conjured with powerful magic from Thist and his stone of power. As the seeds struck the ground they started to grow rapidly. No sooner had Thist reached the end of his target area when the first trees had finished growing. The trees had grown so fast that the ground they had grown in was steaming.

  “Fall back!” called the commander. “We will return with reinforcements, those cowards are not as plentiful as they made themselves out to be.”

  The commander was stocky and arrogant. “We will return with the whole garrison and sweep this wretched forest until we find them.”

  The group of soldiers returned the way they had entered only to find that the forest had become thick, dark and unfamiliar. “It’s not this way.” said one of the men.

  All the soldiers could see that the way was different. The wisps kept on harrying them like a pestilence. Every soldier had his own reservations against being pushed and bullied by a dark apparition and every soldier was bent on getting out of the forest in a hurry. But they were lost.

  They stood on the very place where they had entered the forest but it was now a dark and foreboding place. If they would press on just a few yards then they would be free, but they could not see it for all the trees in their way.

  Thist followed a familiar trail back to the trebuchet where Jem was preparing the last shot. “Jem.” called Thist in a hushed tone.

  Jem spun around. He was startled by Thist in the dark cloak. “Thist, you scared me, take off the cloak you look like one of those damned forest things.”

  Thist snapped off the cloak. “Where is Kelvin?”

  “That’s better.” said Jem “Those cloaks make you look exactly like a wisp.”

  Thist was exasperated by Jem’s answer. “Jem! Where is Kelvin?”

  “I don’t know where Kelvin is.” snapped Jem alarmed by Thist’s tone. “He is with you, isn’t he?”

  “No, he didn’t respond to my signal and he wasn’t at the waypoint where he should have been.”

  Thist wiped the sweat from his temples “I think he might have been captured or something, and...”

  “And what?” asked Jem.

  Thist hesitated a second as he listened to the sounds in the forest. “A platoon followed me in, they might be here in a seconds. Is the final shot ready?”

  “Yes, the final shot is ready and loaded.” said Jem, switching to a harsh whisper. “Why did you lead them here?”

  “Good.” said Thist still out of breath. “Let’s shoot the sucker off and hightail it out of here. Get your stuff and put on your cloak.”

  Jem grabbed his bag, flung his own wisp cloak over his shoulders and pulled the firing pin on the trebuchet.

  “Is it rigged?” asked Thist as Jem came running past him.

  “Yes,” he shouted. “Run for it.”

  The trebuchet was rigged to self-destruct on the back swing of the last shot, rendering it irreparable. The two young men ran hard as the trebuchet creaked. They ran even harder as they heard it wind up to its climax. They flailed their arms ahead of their faces as they ran through the thick underbrush of the forest. As the shot slung away, it rang with a deafening boom, Jem and Thist turned to watch the granite boulder fly through the air toward its target.

  “What special magic did you give the boulder?” asked Jem.

  Thist stood on his tiptoes to see better where it had gone. This did not help at all but it made him feel better for trying. “I put all the soul stones inside it.”

  Jem looked shocked. “Why?”

  Thist grinned. “The voices will drive them insane.”

  Jem looked perplexed for a second, “Only if they have some of the tea you gave us in tavern.”

  “I left a bag full of my magically imbued tea in the river that feeds the castle with water.” snickered Thist, “it has been there since yesterday.”

  Jem stroked his chin for a moment. “How long will the effects last?”

  “Indefinitely,” said Thist, “no, maybe a week. Let’s find Kelvin. I know where he was stationed. If he was captured we should at least see footprints nearby.”

  Jem and Thist ran to where Kelvin had been stationed. They wore the cloaks that Thist had fashioned from old tent sail. They looked like wisps dashing out of the forest as they crossed into the adjoining savannah.

  They arrived at the place where Kelvin had been and stopped. They stood in shock as they observed the scene. Kelvin was gone, but his bow, his bag and all the imbued arrows lay on the ground. There were peculiar scuff marks on the ground, as if he had been dragged.

  “They’ve taken our friend.” said Jem.

  Thist and Jem looked around as they started to search for Kelvin.

  “It’s no use.” said Thist. “They must have taken him.”

  “What shall we do now?” asked Jem.

  Thist rubbed his hands together, one eyebrow raised as he scrutinized the castle. “Now we will deploy the most powerful weapon.” said Thist. “But we have to do it before sundown.”

  59

  Jem led the horse down the track to the castle. He had borrowed the sick old horse with permission from uncle Tarn. He didn’t have to go far or haul a heavy load; he only needed to look the part. He was dressed as a merchant, with a straw hat and travel worn clothes.

  The horse was pulling a noisy old cart with pots and buckets and other tinckery lashed to the side. He descended the hill from the tent village, like a traveller who was nearing the end of a long journey. As he approached the bridge he kept on walking, as if oblivious to the local politics an
d hailed the gate. “Ahoy!” called Jem. “I be a peddler of fine wares.”

  There was no movement and no answer. Jem approached the steel gate closer and closer. “Ahoy the gate!” shouted Jem. Three guards approached the gate and shouted at Jem. “Be gone you vermin, we have no interest in your pottery.” The guard’s eyes were bloodshot, an obvious sign that they were affected by the nettle smoke.

  “Ahoy laddie.” shouted Jem in a jovial manner. “Mine wares not pottery is, I is tinckery and berry wine only has.”

  “Berry wine?” How much berry wine?” asked the one guard.

  “I is has one quart of berry wines has.” said Jem as he laboured to stay in character.

  The guards laughed. “One quart?” said the one guard. “That’s not enough for a garrison, that’s enough for one man, be gone with you.”

  “No, no,” protested Jem, “one quart is one quart wagon is. I is has one quart wagon, I is has a hun’d bottles is.”

  The heavy gate started to open. The captain of the guard was standing by the other two guards. It was the same guard that had tried to assault them on the beach. His eyes were blood shot and black. “Let’s buy some berry wine from this guy, I need a good drink.” said the captain. “How much gold do you want for a bottle?”

  “I is tired is,” said Jem. “I is not take gold is. Mine horse is sick is. I is pay you berry wines for nice horse and foods is.”

  The guards let Jem and his horse in. Jem walked slowly and coughed at the smell of nettle smoke. The guards led him to their small tavern between the keep wall and the main castle. Jem didn’t ask them any questions. He played the part of a merchant who took pride in his wares and offered all and sundry a miniscule sample of the berry wine.

  The ploy worked and the guards agreed on bogus terms with Jem to take a bottle each. It wasn’t long before the entire garrison was so drunk on the berry wine that Jem simply walked out of the keep gate unhindered.

  60

  Jem stood in the entrance of their tent. He was leaning against the tent post as he watched a group of people leave the castle in the distance. They seemed to be in a hurry. Thist was fidgeting with the inner sole of his new boots and looked distracted. He didn’t know that Jem was there.

  Jem, Thist and Kelvin had discussed the plan a few times and it had seemed feasible. But now Kelvin had vanished and Thist was having doubts, or perhaps it was just anxiety. He knew that he had to do this one job and he knew he had to do it on his own. The potential fallout could be catastrophic and he didn’t want to see his friends get hurt, or worse, die at his hand.

  “I think you are ready.” said Jem. “We don’t want to keep our unsuspecting adversaries waiting too long. I am sure that they are preparing their next move as well.”

  Thist glanced around. “You startled me! How can they be waiting if they are unsuspecting? Anyway, I just want to look the part, you know?’

  “I know.” said Jem. “But how do you fully prepare for something like this?”

  “I don’t know.” said Thist shaking his head while chewing on his bottom lip. “Are there no scrolls of teaching for this kind of thing? What about the scrolls that you got from the old man? Don’t they say something?”

  Jem shook his head, he was exhausted to the bone with all their travels and the work he did alone on the trebuchet. He had returned from the castle early in the morning after spending most of the night trying to evade drunk guards. Jem just wanted it all to be over already; perhaps he had never wanted to start it in the first place. They knew that there lay the answer to the world’s problem in the hands of the ruler of the castle and nobody with that amount of power in their hands would give it up without a fight. “The scrolls are useless.” said Jem. “I was inside the keep last night and had a good look at everything. The scrolls are for a different castle.”

  “Well, so much for that.” said Thist.

  Thist wore a long coat over a loose shirt, a pair of craftily stitched sheep skin boots with the fur on the inside, and tight trousers. All were black except for the studs on the belt and the chain mail vest made of polished rings. His long curly hair was pulled tight over his head and tied in a ponytail with just a dangling bang over his right eye where his hair had turned white.

  The clothes that Thist had ordered from the tent village tailor were all freshly made to his specifications. It was what he called his ‘death wish’. He had ordered them before the siege had begun and had insisted that the tailor not spare any time or cost. “It may very well be the last thing that I wear and if I am going to die in it I want it to be incredibly stylish.” He had said.

  The tailor had heard rumours of Thist’s eccentricity and had just nodded his head and mumbled, “Nobody truly knows when they will die, so you should always dress well.”

  Jem knew why Thist wanted fantastic and expensive clothing. It was so that he could imbue magic into each item. Thist had noticed that if he used poorly crafted objects, it didn’t matter how great his magic was. Nothing could make up for poor quality items.

  Jem knocked on the door post, “It’s time now. Let’s go.”

  Thist straightened his coat in the mirror one more time and then winked at himself.

  He picked up his staff from next to the door post and ambled out. His shoes made no sound on the floor, as if he were not walking but floating. The long black coat didn’t sway or flap but kept his legs hidden. Only his toes and heels could be seen flashing their presence. On Thist’s belt was his ever present whip, rolled up and held by a quick release clasp.

  “Before I go,” said Thist, “I have to give you something.”

  Thist present Jem with a small wooden box. It was not longer than his forearm and not thicker than his wrist. It was light and Thist had pain in his eyes as Jem took the box.

  “What is it?” asked Jem.

  “I have become very powerful in the last few weeks.” said Thist.

  “I know, and I am very happy for you Thist.” said Jem “However it is disturbing to me. We were children when we started on this journey but now we are formidable. There is nothing that can stop us, especially you.”

  Thist chuckled, “Do you remember that bear that we trashed when we got the mushrooms?”

  Jem laughed. “When we lost the mushrooms?”

  “I wonder what we would do if we had to encounter that bear today?” said Thist.

  Jem shook his head. “He would be toast.”

  Jem opened the small box. Just at that moment Thist glanced away. “It’s a small dagger.” said Jem. “Thank you. Is it special?”

  “Jem listen to me.” said Thist, “This is very important. You must wear this dagger with you for the rest of your life; when you wash, when you swim, when you do anything. You and you alone must control this dagger.”

  Jem raised his face inquisitively. “Why? What have you imbued into it?”

  Thist was quiet as he averted his eyes from Jem and the dagger.

  “Thist. What have you done to this dagger?” insisted Jem.

  “I imbued it to be my ‘Bain’.”

  “Your what?” asked Jem.

  “My weaknesses, my nemesis.” said Thist, now exasperated. “This dagger can kill me and I can do nothing to stop the one who holds it. I am giving it to you so that you can use it to kill me if I become evil. And I will not be able to stop you.”

  Jem gaped at Thist. “I am honoured that you would trust me with this but what if I become evil and you are still good?”

  “I don’t know Jem,” said Thist. “Can a man who is truly ‘good’ ever become evil?”

  “I think you are safe for now.” said Jem. “But what if you become evil and I die before you die?”

  “Then the world will be at my mercy until a man with a good heart finds the Bain dagger…and kills me.”

  Jem took the dagger and sheath from the box and tied it to his belt. “Don’t turn evil.” said Jem as he patted the dagger.

  “Sure.” said Thist. “Thank you and don’t die.”
>
  61

  Jem and Thist walked out towards the castle. The smoke from the burning nettles on the far side had cleared and the early morning sunshine was welcome. Only the birds could be heard and the morning air was sporting the first cold snap of an early winter. Thist drew in the fresh air with only the smell of dead campfire coals and old road dust hinting at their own presence.

  Thist looked at Jem and nodded. Both men knew that the exchange meant more than words could say. Jem slapped Thist hard on the back and said. “Go do your thing well, and I will go and search for Kelvin.”

  Thist tightened his lips and nodded at Jem. Then he started walking to the castle. The guards had no idea what they were going to confront this day. No amount of preparation or battlements or bridges or moats or steel gates or boiling oil could prepare them for the apocalypse that approached them on foot.

  Thist stood in front of the main gate that loomed ahead of him. It was enormous and towered above him, making him look insignificant. He waved a hand above his head to try to signal one of the guards but at this distance he could not tell if they saw him. He rubbed his hands in the cold to warm them and then he blew into his hands ending with a quiet whisper. A few minutes later a small door in the gate opened up and a squad of guards was ushered out. They all wore the same uniforms. The men wearing them, although young, looked weary and broken.

  One guard put his hand to his temple and clenched his eyes as he stumbled to where Thist was standing.

  “What do you want stranger?” stammered the lead guard. He was intimidated by the confidence that flowed from Thist’s face. The guard looked Thist up and down a second time and recognized his face. It was the same captain of the guard that they had seen near the beach but this time the man looked stricken as he scrutinized Thist.

  “Take me to her.” was all Thist offered.

  The lead captain flicked his head up and forward in a rude manner.