Soul Intent

by dennis batchelder

  Callaghan led them down the cavern to the old wall. Dieter swung the pick and broke it up, Flora carried the stones, and Callaghan built a new wall by fitting them back together.

  “How can you do that without mortar?” Flora asked.

  The Major chuckled. “Many years of practice,” he said. He stood up and tapped the new wall with his cane. “The stones are well-shaped, and all it takes is a practiced eye to place them.”

  An hour later the wall was built and the alcove closed off.

  Callaghan stood back and held up his lamp. “Looks like it’s been there for a hundred years,” he said. He turned to Dieter. “Where’s my pick?”

  Dieter pointed back in the cavern, and the Major limped over to the old alcove. When he didn’t return right away, Flora called, “Major? Is everything okay?”

  “Flora, come back here.” Callaghan’s voice was high-pitched.

  Was he all right? She grabbed her light and hustled to the back of the cavern. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Callaghan stood inside the alcove where the old wall had been. He held his lantern close to the ground. The light shone on a wooden trap door built into the floor. “This is it,” he said.

  “This is what?” she asked.

  “The shaft Raddy told me about.”

  She felt her stomach lurch. “Where they ate the little boy?”

  “Where they found the opal nest.” He knelt down and pulled on the ring attached to the door. “It’s stuck. Where’s the map?”

  “In my tent.”

  He frowned. “I must see it straight away.”

  Back on the surface, Flora and Dieter stood looking over Callaghan’s shoulder as he pointed on the map. “It’s the shaft your grandfather told me about,” the Major said.

  “How can you be sure?” she asked.

  “Because until the Great War came along, I listened to that bloody ghost story every Easter, Christmas, and Melbourne Cup.” He stabbed at the map with his index finger. “And each time Raddy told it, he led me over to this map, tapped right here on this smudged spot, and swore he’d come back one day.”

  She said nothing, afraid of what he might suggest.

  Callaghan looked at Dieter. “There’s opals down there, me boy. Opals the size of apples, ripe for the picking.”

  Dieter smiled and nodded.

  “Down there or not,” she said, “we’ve got to leave first thing in the morning if we’re going to make the Bratislava train and meet the captain.”

  “Flora, you can buy that train with your share of the eggs from our nest of opals,” Callaghan said.

  “It’s a legend, Major. A story. You said so yourself.” She said this slowly, and she tried to keep the emotion out of her voice.

  He shrugged. “Legend or not, them opals are calling me. I can’t leave here without at least seeing if old Raddy was right.” He peered back at the map.

  She took a deep breath. “I can’t miss the train, or the boat, Major. Baba needs me, and I have to get back.” She raised her voice just a little. “She’s Raddy’s wife—remember?”

  Callaghan’s head jerked up. “Of course I remember,” he snapped. “It’s just…” He paused for a moment. “Please, Flora. I need to look for that opal nest. I can’t spend the rest of me days wondering if I missed the opportunity of a lifetime.”

  She knew the decision was hers; Ned Callaghan was duty-bound to help her get back to Paris. But Flora also knew she owed him, because she could never have gotten the gold this far without his help.

  She needed to rendezvous with Baba, James, and Archibald Morgan in only five and a half days. No matter how important the opal nest was to the Major, she was determined to start their return in the morning.

  That left only one solution. She stood up. “Okay, Major. Let’s find your opal nest.”

  He got up. “You’ll delay our return?”

  “No.” And when he frowned, she added, “We will look tonight—but we will leave in the morning.”

  He stared at her, then he slapped his hands on his knees and smiled. “I reckon we’ll have to dig fast. Dieter, get the picks.”

  forty-three

  October 1946

  Dubnik, Czechoslovakia

  In less than half an hour, the three of them kneeled around the trap door in the alcove. Dieter stuck the pick’s handle through the ring and forced the trap door open.

  Callaghan held his lantern over the revealed shaft and peered inside. “I don’t see any water,” he said.

  Flora saw a ladder attached to the side of the shaft. It disappeared into the darkness after a dozen rungs. She picked up a stone and dropped it down the hole. She listened, but couldn’t hear a splash.

  “I’ll go first,” Callaghan said. He shoved the pick into his belt, tied the end of a rope around his waist, and handed the coil to Dieter. “If I give a tug, both of you pull me out.”

  Dieter nodded.

  The Major tied a thinner cord to his lantern and handed it to Flora. “Lower this down ahead of me.” He sat down and swung his legs into the hole. He twisted his body around and tested a rung with his toes before planting his full weight on it.

  Flora played out her line as he descended, keeping the lantern a rung ahead of the Major’s feet. “Is it sturdy enough?” she asked.

  “Sturdier than the ones your grandfather and I used in White Cliffs.”

  After she played out fifty feet of rope, Flora’s lantern rested on the floor of the shaft. A few seconds later, Callaghan stepped off the ladder and picked it up. “Nothing’s here,” he called. “It’s a bloody dead end.”

  They would make their train after all. Flora turned to hide her smile of relief from Dieter. “That’s it, then,” she called. “Come on up.”

  “Hang on a minute—what the devil is this?” The Major’s voice echoed up from the shaft.

  “Maybe he has found something?” Dieter asked.

  Flora was afraid of the excitement in their voices.

  They both peered into the shaft and watched Callaghan scrape his pick on the floor next to the ladder. A minute later he took a step back and stared at the ground.

  “What is it?” Flora called.

  “A bloody wooden plug, just like old Raddy said. It won’t take but a minute to clear it. Come down here, Dieter!”

  Flora looked up at Dieter and spoke in German. “If you go down there, come back quickly. We must catch that train to Bratislava in the morning.”

  “I will try, fraulein,” he said. Then his eyes narrowed. “But if die opale live down there, we will be late.”

  She grabbed at his arm. “I must make that train, Dieter. If you’re not here, I will—” she stopped.

  “You will what?” He stepped toward her and stood with his face not six inches from hers.

  She backed up and crossed her arms. “An hour before daybreak, if you have not returned, I will tear down the new wall, push the three strigoi boxes down this shaft, and seal the top.”

  His jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t!”

  “I would.” She put her chin up. “But first I will tell them you are at fault for disturbing their rest.”

  Dieter stood still and stared at her. Then he swung around and scooped up a rope and a pick. “You will do no such thing, fraulein.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “No, you will not.” He shoved the pick into his belt, tied the Major’s rope to the top rung of the ladder, and swung his legs over the edge of the shaft.

  “Why not?”

  “I take with me the last pick. The vampires will remain asleep in their new home.” And with that, he climbed down the rungs and disappeared into the shaft, leaving Flora alone.

  She jerked awake. She sat wrapped in her coat, close to the edge of the shaft. She blew on her fingers then groped for the matches. She struck one and lit her lamp.

  “Major?” she called.

  No answer. Outside the lamp’s glow the cave remained dark and silent. She wrapped her hands around its g
lobe to warm them. This cast long shadows around the alcove.

  She had watched first Dieter then Callaghan drop into the chute at the bottom of the shaft. The lamp they left at the bottom of the ladder sputtered out twenty minutes later.

  She looked at her pocket watch. It had been five hours since the Major lifted out the wooden plug. Now it was four in the morning, and they needed to leave for Presov by six—seven at the very latest—if they were going to catch the train to Bratislava.

  A faint scratching sound rose out of the shaft, and she realized this must have been what had woken her. She crawled to the edge and strained to hear.

  “Flora.” The voice was a whisper, distorted by the echoes from the shaft.

  “Major?”

  “Down here. Help me climb out.”

  She looked at the ladder disappearing into the blackness of the shaft. “Can’t Dieter help?”

  “No.” Callaghan’s voice was a whimper. “Please, Flora.”

  She pulled the cord and retrieved the extinguished lamp, then quickly attached her lit one and lowered it down to the bottom.

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “At the top of the chute.”

  She peered down and thought she saw his hand in the gloom of the hole in the floor. “I’m coming, Major,” she called.

  She took a deep breath and climbed down the ladder. The rungs were cold and rusty and she had to squeeze them hard to keep her grip. She kept her gaze on the lamp under her and continued, hand over hand, until she stood on the bottom.

  “In here,” Callaghan whispered.

  She knelt down, untied the lamp, and thrust it into the hole.

  Callaghan’s arm was up, blocking the light from his squinting eyes. “There you are,” he breathed. “We found the nest, Flora. Old Raddy’s story was true.” His voice grew stronger, and a grin broke out on his dirty face.

  “You found the opals?”

  “The nest,” he whispered. “The bloody nest is cursed.”

  “Cursed? Where’s Dieter?”

  His hand curled into a fist. “The Kraut tried to kill me.”

  “No!”

  “Fair dinkum. We bundled up some opals, and then the bastard swung his pick at me head—he would have brained me if I hadn’t ducked.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “In the nest with the opals.” He grimaced. “We must hurry, Flora. Help me out before it’s too late.”

  “You’d leave him down there?”

  “I can’t get him up the chute.” He coughed. “Besides, he has the company of the others.”

  “Others?”

  “Raddy’s mates. We found their bones.” He winced. “The Kraut stuck his pick through me leg. I’m pretty much all bled out. Help pull me up.”

  She withdrew the lamp, placed a knee on either side of the hole, and reached down. “Grab my hand,” she said.

  He reached up and gripped her hand with his, but before she could pull, the Major grunted. “Hold on a minute,” he said.

  She let go and brought the lamp back. “Yes, Major?”

  “When you do pull me out, we must hurry.”

  “I know. The train.”

  He shook his head. “Not the train. The water.”

  “Water?”

  “Dieter’s pick pierced the wall, and he hit a gusher. The bloody cave’s flooded, and Dieter’s drowned. I swam up to the chute as the water rose.”

  Flora looked past Callaghan’s shoulders and saw his belly, knees, and one arm were jammed against the walls of the tunnel. “You’re blocking the water?”

  He smiled. “I’m acting like a big cork. The water’s rising up the chute about a foot a minute, and it’s bloody cold,” he said. He looked down. “It’s starting to leak around me, see?”

  She saw his shirt was soaking wet. Water was flowing up through a gap between the Major’s knees.

  “So I pull you up, and then we’ll plug the tunnel?” Her voice was rising.

  “That’s the idea,” he said. “But we’ll have to hurry.”

  She nodded and put the lamp back on the floor. She reached down past his hand and grasped his forearm and pulled as hard as she could.

  He grunted and shifted a bit, but he didn’t move. “Try it again,” he said.

  She pulled, squatting this time, wedging her feet against the sides of the hole and helping lift with her legs. She felt a vibration when something snapped.

  He gasped. “You’ve dislocated me shoulder!”

  “Oh my God.” She looked into the gloom, and saw the water was rising. “We must stop the water.”

  Callaghan glanced down, then back at her. “Plug me up, Flora. Then get yourself back to Paris.”

  “I’m going to get you out, Major. Just give me a minute.”

  He shook his head. “Even if you pull me out of the chute, I’ll never climb up that shaft. You have to leave me here.”

  “No!” she shouted. She stood up and took off her coat. “Use this to plug the gaps. It will buy some time.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t move me arm.”

  “I’ll do it.” She dropped her coat into the hole, then pulled off her boots and slipped feet-first into the tunnel. She used her legs to jam the coat into the space between his knees.

  “There’s too many gaps to fill,” he said. “And you’ll need that coat.”

  “Major, I can’t lose you.” She reached up and grabbed her boots and wedged them in the gaps between his arm and belly.

  “I can’t breathe!”

  “Sorry.” She used her legs to rearrange the boots. “Is that better?”

  “A bit. But the water’s still sneaking up me back.”

  She bent down as far as she could and reached past his shoulders. Her fingertips touched the cold water, and she quickly stood up and looked around the shaft. There was nothing left to use.

  Yes, there was. She stripped off her sweater and shirt, then bent back down and jammed them behind him. Then she used her pants, each leg filling the crack between the tunnel wall and his knees.

  She grabbed the lamp and checked her work. “I think the leaks are plugged,” she said. She climbed up and knelt at the edge of the chute.

  He gave a faint smile. “You can’t pull me out now.”

  “I’ll go to town and get help.”

  He looked up at her somberly. “Flora, don’t waste your time.”

  “But I can get help.”

  He shook his head. “Flora, I won’t last much longer. The water is cold, I can’t feel me legs, and I’m so sleepy.” He closed his eyes.

  “Major, wake up!” She struggled to keep the panic out of her voice.

  His eyes opened, but soon they slid shut. “Can you do something for me?” he whispered.

  “Anything,” she sobbed. “Just hold on. I know we can figure something out.”

  “Come here.”

  She dropped into the tunnel and crouched next to him.

  “Put the light out,” he said. “Save it for when you leave.”

  The tears streamed down her face, but she wiped them away as she stood up and extinguished the lamp. Then she crouched down next to him again.

  “Flora,” he breathed.

  “Yes, Major?”

  “I’m cold.”

  So was she, but she wiggled around, found his head with her hands, and pressed his face into her bosom. She ran her fingers through his hair. They both shivered, and she squeezed him close. She decided to keep him talking. “Tell me about the opals,” she said.

  “The opals were bloody brilliant,” he whispered so softly she had to bend her head down to hear him.

  “So the nest was real,” she whispered back.

  “Just like old Raddy said.” Callaghan’s words slurred together. “I can see them now, Flora. The opals—they’re beauties.”

  “Tell me about the prettiest one you see.” She choked back her sobs, but she couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face and dripping onto his cheeks.


  “Bright red and green and blue—it’s singing to me, Flora. Can you hear it?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on the red spots flashing across her vision. “I can almost see it.”

  “Listen to it, Flora. It’s singing that I’ll be right, and you’ll make it back to Paris.”

  “I will?”

  “Can’t you hear it?”

  She squeezed him even tighter. “I can through you, Major.”

  “Good. Now it’s calling to me. I’ve got to go with it, Flora. Hold me as I go.”

  “I’ll hold you.” She stroked his hair. “Goodbye, Major,” she whispered as he gave a long exhale. “Goodbye.”

  Flora stayed and held Major Ned Callaghan until his skin grew cold and the water seeped around her plugs and crept up to her waist. She forced herself to stand up, and with her teeth chattering and her body shivering almost uncontrollably, she climbed out of the tunnel, groped for the lamp in the dark, and headed up the ladder.

  She reached the top, found the matches, and lit the lamp. She realized she didn’t plug the hole, and she climbed down the ladder again.

  Back at the bottom of the shaft, she failed to wedge the wooden plug into the hole in the floor because Dieter’s rope prevented a snug fit. She pulled on the knot, but her fingers were too numb to untie it. So she jammed in the plug as tight as she could and climbed up the ladder. She closed the wooden trap door over the top of the shaft and stumbled her way out of the alcove, up through the tunnels, and back to the surface.

  forty-four

  Present Day

  Dubnik Mine, Slovakia

  Rose and Marie flanked Madame Flora, each with an arm around her. The firelight sparkled in the tears running down the twins’ cheeks.

  “How’d you make it back to Paris, Grandma?” Marie asked.

  “Most of the trip was a blur,” Madame Flora said. “I dug through my belongings and got dressed. I found a sweater and some money in Old Ned’s luggage. Then I cut the horses loose from their wagons and rode one of them, barefoot, to Presov. I just barely made that train.”

  George tossed a stick into the flames. “You know, if you had taken the time to plug that hole correctly, Flora, we wouldn’t need diving gear tomorrow.”