Chapter Ten: The Sea Bridge

“Well… this is awkward.”

Mollie’s statement summed up the mood in the room. The girl sat between the two groups as if a mediator. While his brother's scorn was directly aimed at him, Kenelm knew Finneas was annoyed the other two kids had followed him. All three were in deep trouble.

“At least I can say I tagged along to make sure these knuckleheads didn’t kill themselves, or something,” Mollie continued.

Finneas didn’t respond. The room’s atmosphere intensified as the silence grew. Kenelm and Teller sat fretfully, their backs to the wall, while the three older boys leaned against some storage containers. Kenelm’s brother frowned with discontent, whereas Kistoph seemed to be assessing the room. Kenelm was unsure who the Native kid was. He couldn’t remember anyone like him back in Angluem.

Kenelm curled his hair nervously – this was a habit he’d picked up over years. While it was unintentional, Kenelm’s action appeared to further anger his brother.

“I’m sorry…” he said meekly.

“Sorry?” Finneas said. “That’s all you gonna say?”

“What else did you expect me to say?” Kenelm said, this time louder and less timidly. He felt something inside him, a feeling he had whenever he felt injustice. “You ran away… we just followed.”

“Damnit!” his brother grumbled. “I had a good reason.”

“You’re the Seer,” Kenelm decided to finally try to confirm. "I'm not sure what it means… but I thought we could help."

“Help?” Finneas retorted. With every gasp, his brother panted harder. Kenelm wondered whether he would faint, or at least run out of breath. Yet, Finneas continued. "I didn't need help! I was fine by myself. You didn't need to run and find me. Chaff! Dammit!"

Of all his memories, he could never remember his brother getting so livid. Finneas was always the calm one. It was Kenelm who always found himself in fights, usually suffering the wrath of the matron. He remembered that body – the corpse they found back in the abandoned temple. His brother must have gone through hell and back. Perhaps this had changed him? Kenelm wasn't too sure. He wasn't too keen on seeing his brother change like that.

“It’s too dangerous for you anyway,” Finneas said. “Kist, can you take my brother and his friends back to Angluem. Lochen and I will travel to Rivetia City ourselves.”

At that moment, a sickening feeling sank in for Kenelm. His stomach ached – he wasn't too sure whether it was the hunger or the realisation their adventure was almost over. So much had happened the past few weeks, he didn't want it all to go to waste.

“Wait…” Kistoph spoke defensively. "I didn't travel, like, to another side of the region just to turn back now. Nah… we all go together."

“Kist?” Kenelm's brother said. For a moment it seemed as if Finneas was about to unleash all the rage he'd built up. Instead, his brother suddenly appeared defeated. "You sure… it'd be better for all of us?"

“For you, perhaps,” Kistoph replied. “But we’ve come too far. I say we decide as a group.”

Even though he appeared defeated, his brother didn’t seem happy with the results. He too was curling his hair.

“Fine,” Finneas responded. “I guess there’s no point voting. I’m the only one against this, anyway.”

Kenelm's brother was about to walk away. He was most likely going away to brood when Mollie approached him. She seemed nervous – it was rare to see Finneas irritated like that. No one knew how to manage the situation. Kenelm wasn't sure what his friend could do. He was afraid she could make his brother angrier. He knew from personal experience he preferred to be left alone when aggravated. Finneas was calmer, kinder, and forgiving. Perhaps it’ll be different, Kenelm wondered.

“We… found your bag…” Mollie interrupted. “You can have it back… if you want.”

MollIe quickly picked up the backpack they found left in the temple. She handed it back to Finneas. His mood seemed to suddenly change. For the first time since being reunited, Kenelm’s brother smiled ever so slightly.

“Thanks,” he stated simply.

Finneas quickly searched the bag, finding the old and faded photograph of their mother. For a moment, Finneas appeared to lighten up, as if relieved. For the next hour or so, Finneas simply stared at the photograph. Kenelm, and the rest of the group, decided to leave him alone for a bit.

Since the room’s atmosphere still felt rather tense, due to the argument that had occurred, Kenelm wandered outside. As he sat there, he reminisced on the journey so far. After they had escaped the grip of the two kidnappers, Kenelm and his friends slowly made their way north. They reached Hilding two days ago. He had heard rumours of a mysterious group that had passed through town the previous day. Kenelm quickly realised two members of the group were Finneas and Kistoph. Knowing his brother and friend would eventually return, the group decided to stay put in Hilding.

The cellar had long been abandoned, and the townspeople weren't bothered by a bunch of kids squatting in the place. So Kenelm and his friends decided to make the place home for a bit. Not only was a cellar dry and a safe place away from the storm, but the room also had plenty of old unused couches on which the kids could sleep. Over the next day or two, the three kids spent their time telling, or retelling, stories they’d heard. They played a few games of dice, just to bide the time. Kenelm felt unprepared when Finneas stormed in suddenly, demanding to see him. Kenelm knew his brother would return eventually. He didn’t expect him to return so soon.

Now that it was decided the whole group, including Kenelm and his friends, would travel to Rivetia City, Kistoph volunteered to find transport across the Sea Bridge. It had been closed due to the storm, but they were hopeful the passageway to Haven Port would have reopened. Since Kenelm still wasn’t prepared to approach his brother, he decided to tag along with Kistoph. At first, Kistoph seemed uncertain whether he wanted Kenelm tagging along. He appeared to quickly change his mind; perhaps Kistoph relished having company. Kistoph was probably sick of having to spend time around Finneas or the Native boy.

At first, the two didn’t speak as they walked through the street. The town was busier than usual, with a few villagers roaming back and forth. Kenelm noticed a few of the townspeople trading with shopkeepers. Now that the sky had calmed, with no hint of rain, people were more willing to go outside. Kistoph finally spoke.

“No one’s mentioned it,” he said, “but you sure smell damp. You’ve not been out in the rain all this time?”

“Nope…”

“Really?”

“Really,” Kenelm replied. Kistoph didn’t sound convinced. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

They continued wandering down the street in silence. Kenelm wasn’t sure what to think. He didn’t really want to tell Kistoph, nor his brother, what he’d done. A part of Kenelm felt as if he’d murdered the man in self-defence. He was now self-doubting himself. Maybe he was lying to himself. Nonetheless, he preferred not to delve into that matter. The younger especially didn’t want to mention he knew about the incident in the temple – although returning his brother’s backpack probably rose suspicions.

“You know your brother does care for you?”

The statement came out of nowhere. Kenelm wasn’t sure how to respond.

“When do you think my brother stop being angry with me?” Kenelm asked Kistoph. He hoped Kistoph would talk some sense into Finneas; perhaps convince his brother to accept the fact Kenelm and his friend were coming to Rivetia City with them. “He’s never really been the hot-headed one.”

Kistoph chuckled.

“Your guess is good as anyone’s,” he replied. “He’s kinda right, I s’pose. You did run away without telling anyone.”

“You did the same?”

“Finn and I are older.”

“By only a few years,” Kenelm said defensively. “You’re kids too.”

As Kenelm spoke, an older man approached them. He was an old sailor who’d most likely faired more storms than anyone else in the harbour. The old man had a long greyish white beard which grew out in all directions. Bracers pulled his trousers up to his waistline. In his arms was a rather big hardback book – it probably had all the listing of all the things passing through the Sea Bridge. He kept the book firmly in his arm as if his most important possession. The man smiled – all his teeth were pitched black. His breath smelt rotten. Kenelm dreaded to ask what the man had been eating.

“What we had ‘ere, boyos?” he said with a grin.

“Can you get us across the Sea Bridge?” Kistoph asked.

“And why’d I do that?” the man asked.

“The storm’s over.”

“It is… of course. But that still doesn’t ask my question.”

“We just need to get across,” Kistoph said. Although he still sounded confident, there was a slight hint he was losing his patience. "We'll pay; we got the coin."

"I'm not concerned with the pay," the sailor stated. "The Sea Bridge is still closed."

“Closed still?” Kenelm interjected.

“What we’ve here,” the sailor examined Kenelm. “So, you talk too? I know captains who’d cut your tongue out in a heartbeat.”

“Good thing I’m not a sailor, huh?” Kenelm said defiantly.

The old sailor ignored his comment. He didn't say anything at all. He scanned through the book he was holding, without uttering a single word. After about five minutes of waiting in silence, the man slammed the book shut.

"We got a shipment going through tomorrow," he confirmed. "I could, you know, turn a blind eye to… a few more shipments. Hiding under blankets… no would, say, notice the difference."

"So… it's a deal?" Kistoph asked.

“Be here dawn, tomorrow.”

The two quietly returned to the abandoned cellar, neither muttering a word. Along the way, Kenelm took a good glance at the shop stalls set up along the town’s main road. Like those back in Angluem, each stall seemed to sell the same stuff: fish, fish, and more fish. The only exception was a shopkeeper selling piles of coal extracted from the nearby mine. He could smell the odorous scent coming from jet-black stones; a sweet yet bitter stench Kenelm couldn't exactly point his finger towards. It did, however, give him memories of the factories back at home. The machines would always give off the same scent. Kenelm was glad he didn't have to return to that place. Although the factory's foreman made a point stating the kids weren't slaves; after a long day working Kenelm certainly felt like one. He always wished he could copy his older brother and help with the fishing. That, sadly, never happened.

Returning to their friends, it seemed as if no one had moved. Teller was still head deep in a book he’d found in the cellar. He added the book to his small collection – Mollie had managed to keep hold of Teller’s backpack, stuffed to the brim with tomes. After fleeing the kidnappers, she returned the bag to her brother. Kenelm was a bit annoyed Mollie didn’t grab his bag as well, even though there wasn’t anything important in there. The Native boy, whom Kenelm hadn't learnt the name of yet, was sharpening a dagger using a piece of flint. Mollie quickly glanced at Kenelm. She smiled briefly as if telling Kenelm everything was all right. He smiled back – a small gesture of acknowledgement.

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Finneas appeared to have calmed down. Kenelm wasn't too surprised. His older brother was always the least hot-headed out of anyone. If there was anyone who'd agreed quickly, or at least admit defeat, it was his brother. Finneas was always a crowd-pleaser; he always tried to compromise or come to an understanding. Kenelm sometimes hated that about his brother. He, on the other hand, would rather stand up against bullies than cower and submit.

Finneas was sitting in the corner. He was transfixed on the black and white photograph he had kept in his backpack. Kenelm sat down beside him. At first, his brother was unaware of his presence. The moment it became apparent, Finneas placed his arms around Kenelm’s shoulder. It’d been years since they’d done this last – a simple embrace.

“What was she like?”

“Ma?” his brother queried. “I barely remember.”

He sounded sincere. The two never talked about their mother. Even though it wasn’t a taboo topic, neither of the two boys thought much to discuss her. Their mother had died when Finneas was only three.

“She was pretty,” Finneas reminisced. “She was the nicest person I ever knew. I miss her so much.”

Tears began to pour down Finneas’s face. It was as if someone had reopened an old wound. This was why the two rarely discussed their mother. Her passing affected both boys in one way and another.

“Sorry… I shouldn’t have bought it up.”

“It’s… okay,” Finneas responded. “You didn’t mean to… you know.”

“I’m sorry I came looking for you… I hope you understand.”

“No need to apologise,” his brother replied. “I probably would’ve done the same, thinking about it now. You needn’t be sorry. It’s me who should be sorry… I shouldn’t have, well, been so angry. It’s not like me.”

“Apology accepted, I guess…” Kenelm said. “So… you’re the Seer?”

"Something like that," his brother clarified. "I assume Moles told you.”

“Yeah. Teller, Moles and I…. you know… did some research too. Teller found a book,” Kenelm explained. “I think you should talk to him. It details the last Seer. I dunno if it’ll be of use?”

“Thanks… I’ll talk to him.”

Although Teller had read aloud the book detailing the previous Seer, Kenelm still wasn't sure what it all meant. He doubted his brother understood either. However, he could tell his brother was feeling a great burden, whatever it was. It was like Finneas weighted the entire world upon him. Kenelm was glad he didn’t have that responsibility.

The next day the group arrived at the dock at the agreed-upon time. The sailor they'd met the previous day was waiting peevishly. His gaze kept moving back and forth, keeping a good eye on the coming-and-goings on the dock, while also taking a note of his pocket watch. Noticing that the kids had arrived, he placed the watch into one of his waistcoat's pouches. The golden metal chain still dangled from the pocket, however.

“On time,” the man remarked. “And…” he took notice of the Native boy, “…he’ll cost extra. Dangerous goods…”

Kenelm wanted to punch the guy. Although the Native boy was a stranger, who Kenelm learnt was called Lochen, he hated seeing bigotry like that. His brother, however, gave him a scowling glance. Finneas probably knew what was going through Kenelm’s head. For the sake of his brother, and to not cause a commotion, he remained silent. He did, nonetheless, try to pull a disapproving face. Kenelm was unsure whether he succeeded though. The sailor either didn't notice or didn't pay attention.

"Fees paid upfront," Kistoph said, handing the man a pile of crowns – one for each of the free folk kids, and two for Lochen. “Happy?”

“This seems ‘bout right," the man said, sounding satisfied. "Hide under the blankets. Before the guards come."

The group did as they were instructed. The older boys helped the younger ones climb into one of the carts, before jumping onboard themselves. They hid beneath the blankets. Kenelm hoped this was a good enough disguise. The cart began to move, slowly at first, before picking up speed. It soon came to a sudden halt. The oxen pulling the cart snorted whilst standing still.

“Just bringing supplies to Haven Port,” the sailor’s voice uttered from the front. “The latest shipments. A few bobs and ends. A few boxes of lemons were freshly picked yesterday. Some lumber to prepare the houses. You know, those sorts of things.”

“You needn’t sell me on your ware, merchant,” another voice said. Kenelm assumed this was a guard. “I ain’t buying.”

“I’m a sailor… just doing this on the side, you know,” the sailor continued. “With this latest storm, I’ll be surprised the town will last a year. Best to get rid of this stuff before it’s too late. The storeroom isn’t getting bigger, huh?”

“Fine… fine…” the guard muttered. “Move along then. Here’s your papers. Deliver to the inspector in Haven Port.”

“Agreed. Thanks.”

The moment they were away from seeing distance, the kids were allowed to remove the blankets. Kenelm gasped as he inhaled fresh air. Well… it was a salty sort of air. Nonetheless better than being stuck under the cover of darkness with only the smell of dusty odour.

Moving to the back of the cart, Kenelm was able to get a good look at the Sea Bridge. He had known about the Sea Bridge since he’d been young. It wasn’t just sailors that talked about it, everyone in Estmere knew about the legendary bridge, which linked the town of Haven Port to the mainland. Some people would even dare to call it one of the wonders of the world. Despite its mythical status, it was simply a long pier stretching several tens of miles. The width of the bridge spanned large enough to contain at least five carts side by side.

Already, the town of Hilding on was a small smidge in the distance; the building looked like small matchboxes. The cove's water was calm, barely lifting. It was so smooth a person could easily skid across it without worrying about bumping into waves. The previous night, Kenelm overheard his brother discuss with Kistoph about a Wind Taper. Although Kenelm was unable to get a good grasp of the conversation – they kept mentioning a guy named Cymon – he could tell they had uncovered the cause of the unusual weather of late. A pillar of some sort, Finneas was heard saying. The magic seemed so strange, even his older brother had difficulties understanding what it truly was. Kenelm wondered about the two Sensors who’d interrogated him back in Angluem. Perhaps they had something to do with the weather. The storm only began the moment the kids left Angluem. Kenelm wondered whether that was an attempt to halt the kids’ progress.

A seagull flew by, holding what appeared to be a sardine. The fish was still wrangling in the bird's beak, trying its damn hardest to escape. The seabird landed on the cart’s side rails. It began munching away at its freshly caught meal. It pretty much gulped the sardine in one go, before fluttering away.

Soon the town couldn't be seen at all. In all directions, Kenelm could only see the ocean. The water began to get rougher; it was even possible to see slight waves. Kenelm didn’t realise just how boring it was going to be. His brother and friend were playing a game of dice, with Mollie and Lochen looking on. They were playing the game Snapper – each boy would place a card down from the deck, and whenever two cards had the same value whoever yelled ‘Snapper’ would win the round. It was a popular game back in Angleum. Kenelm never understood what made the game intriguing. The rules were extremely simplistic, and there wasn't any strategy involved. The game simply involved paying attention; nothing else.

Teller was still reading the book he’d found back in the cellar. Kenelm’s friend was so engrossed in whatever was in the book, Kenelm thought it was best not to interrupt his friend. Instead, he looked out at the barren sea, hoping to get another glimpse of sea life. He'd heard from sailors that it was possible to see dolphins dart across the ocean. Much to his disappointment, and sense of boredom, this never occurred.

Night soon came, and they were nowhere near their destination. The sailor pulled the cart to a halt. Using his coat as a pillow, the man laid back and went to sleep in the front seat of the carriage. The kids had no choice but to do the same. Kenelm was awoken the next day by the sudden movement of the cart. The sailor was eager to reach Haven Port as soon as possible.

The next day was just as boring. Teller remained absorbed in his book – Kenelm wished he was able to do the same. The three older boys continued their game of cards, now with Mollie joining in on the action. They’d moved away from the game Snapper, playing Last Card instead. Another popular game among Estmere youth, the game involved each person drawing ten cards from a deck. In turn, each player places a card down that matches the previously placed card – the card can be either the same number value or element type. Dark elements were used as punishment cards; instead of being able to place a card, the next player is forced to pick up two cards instead and miss a turn. If a player is unable to place a card down, due to not having a marching pair in their hand, they also miss a turn. The winner was whoever was able to empty their entire hand.

Compared to Snapper, Last Card had far more strategy. On a few occasions, Kenelm would play a few rounds with his friends back in Angluem. Older boys would go as far as gambling; adding a few crowns to make things more interesting. Today, however, Kenelm simply wasn’t interested. He barely had a good night's sleep. To remedy this, he leant back against the cart’s railing and close his eyes. He didn’t exactly go to sleep, but he was able to get some rest. The carriage would occasionally bump up and down whenever passing what was an open gap between the Sea Bridge's planks. The bridge was extremely old – it was surprising the structure was still mostly intact – so some of the wood had rotted away. Although the planks were frequently replaced, the bridge’s extremely length made this highly impractical.

Kenelm's eyes were half-closed when the cart bolted to a stop. He opened his eyes, expecting the night to have arrived. Kenelm was surprised to discover he was wrong. The sun was still up. It was about late afternoon; and surely too early to stop now.

“Damn beast!” the sailor yelled angrily. “Damn thing. Should’ve replaced you months ago. When I’d the chance.”

The kids remained quiet, unsure how to react. The sailor continued his rant.

“Don’t make me have to prod you, you fowl chaff. When we return, I might as well put you down! Might do it now, for all its worth.”

The rest of the kids returned to what they were doing before; Teller continued reading his book, while the rest continued their card game. Only Kenelm pay any attention to the man. It quickly dawned on Kenelm. Something wasn’t right, and it was up to him to stop it.

Before anyone could utter anything, Kenelm leapt out of the cart. Realising he probably should have uttered a word or two to the group. His appearing over the railing, he briefly spoke to his friends.

“Get your slingshots ready,” Kenelm instructed. “You did bring yours?”

Kenelm then carefully made his way to the front of the bison, making sure not to further spook the beast. The sailor said something, but Kenelm wasn’t paying too much attention. By now both Kistoph and Lochen had jumped out of the cart. Standing staunchly on the wooden planks, the boys aimed their slingshots at the target. The two boys were now aware of their situation.

There were only a few of them, perhaps a half dozen at most. Although small, they could be a menace. The wyverns fluttered around the cart, flying in circles. Back at home, the flying lizard would occasionally attack fishermen, which was why Kenelm's brother and Kistoph were trained to shoot down any of those flying creatures with a slingshot. Finneas was a far better aim than any of them. He was surprised his brother wasn’t helping. A few stones thrown in the wyvern’s direction would discourage them, usually.

Before Kenelm could reach the front, someone pull him back.

“Are you crazy?” his brother yelled. “Get back in the cart! We can handle this ourselves.”

Kenelm was sick and tired of being ordered about. He was old enough to handle himself in a fight. This certainly wasn't his first scrummage. Kenelm pull himself out of his brother's grip and continued to approach the beast.

“Help Kist and the other Native kid,” Kenelm explained. “I can calm the beast. I know what to do.”

Finneas seemed defeated. Instead, he turned around and helped Kistoph and Lochen. He picked up a slingshot and began shooting stones at the wyvern. Kenelm’s brother had better luck. He was able to strike at least two of the flying creatures one after another. Hopefully, that would discourage them to fly away, Kenelm thought.

Kenelm made his way to the bison’s face. In a panic-struck pose, it was still bolting like mad. Kenelm placed his cheek against the beast’s nose. Hugging the large creature, he hoped to somehow calm it. Kenelm could feel the bison breathing out its nostrils; large gulping breaths.

“It’s all right,” Kenelm said softly. “Nothing will hurt you.”

The beast continued to struggle. Kenelm grappled the bison further. Eventually, something clicked, and the large creature began to soothe. It stopped moving around agitated. The beast’s breathing began to slow. Kenelm checked to see if the wyverns had gone. He was able to catch a glimpse of the last wyvern flying away after a projectile peddles struck it.

Leaving the bison to be, Kenelm returned to see his friends. A large grin remained on his face. The proud smile quickly faded when his brother bared a massive scowl.

“What the heck?” his brother yelled. “Dammit! Don’t do that again!”

“I was just-”

Kenelm was unable to finish his sentence. His brother continued yelling in his face, with spit splattering from his mouth.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

“But I didn’t!” Kenelm exclaimed. "And I've experienced with these beasts before."

“Not one that’s panicking!”

“Well…” Kenelm continued, not knowing what to say next, “…could you’ve done better.”

“Better?” Finneas retorted. “The sailor guy had things under control, didn’t he?”

The two continued to throw insults at each other, with everyone else looking on. It was a good thing they were in the middle of the ocean because their quarrelling probably would've created a scene elsewhere. Only one cart passed by; the wagon filled to the brim with barrels of ale. The merchant pulling the bison along ignored the commotion.

“Stop it!” a sudden voice yelled. It was Mollie. “Stop it, before I smack your heads together!”

The brothers bowed their heads, somewhat in defeat and in acknowledgement that their argument had ended in a draw. Neither Finneas nor Kenelm spoke for the rest of the journey. In fact, no one talked at all. All the kids sat in silence, trying to ignore one another. The only person who probably benefitted from the awkward quietness was Teller - he was still reading one of his books.

Nightfall came again. Two more nights, to be more precise. The day after the argument, Finneas and the group continued their game of cards. Kenelm chose not to take part, and instead secluded himself in the corner of the wagon. It was on the fourth day since leaving Hilding did they arrive in Port Key. Since it was pitch black, after saying farewell to their sailor who’d brought them across the Sea Bridge, the group scurried to the local inn.

Because the tavern only had one room left available – the room containing two sets of bunk beds – it became quickly apparent the kids were going to have to share. That night, the two brothers sleep together in one of the bottom bunks – since Mollie remarked how Teller and she once shared the same womb, they also had the displeasure of having to share a bed. The two boys had their backs against one another. Kenelm wondered if his brother was still awake. He wanted to say sorry. He was starting to feel a tad bit remorseful. Maybe Finneas was right, and it was foolish of him to go looking for his older brother. Kenelm decided against apologising; at least not now. He would wait for the morning, perhaps. With that thought still drifting in his head, Kenelm closed his eyes.

Tomorrow, Kenelm pondered. Tomorrow, maybe.