The Lost Boy

Part IV. The Cave of Forgotten Memories

They bid their farewell on the morrow. The young lord was sad to see them go but nevertheless gifted them an envelope of money, two horses laden with wicker baskets stuffed with pies— venison and stone-fruit—and to Vera a warm cape and a new set of boots. Vera gave the young lord a farewell embrace and when she pulled away his eyes were glossy.

Peeku grumbled as they set off in the opposite direction from whence they had arrived, having grown accustomed to the great house's many material delights after scavenging off the land for so many years. But over breakfast of soft-boiled quail eggs Vera had reminded him of their search for the place where the three rivers meet at the base of a mountain, and Peeku did not want her traveling alone.

They ventured always north. They moved swiftly on horseback, and soon the dawn air came tinged with frost. Summer was fading—oh, she was already gone so long! She thought of her grandmother back in her cottage, who must have concluded Vera was lost to the westernmost winds forever.

Each night she found the highest ground near where they camped and played her violin. The night music lifted her up into the atmosphere and sent her gliding over mountains and glaciers. Always she looked for rivers, from gushing streams to roaring rapids, but night after night she found not the place where three rivers united as one.

Until one night she soared over two rivers flowing alongside each other, and saw a lone mountain looming off in the distance. Could this be the place? Vera tried to follow the gentle currents but her music waned before she had reached the looming peak. The next morning she told Peeku about her discovery and they set off in a northwesterly direction. They soon arrived at two rivers running in parallel, with a single ice-capped mountain on the horizon. They followed the rivers, and by sunset they had arrived at the mountain: gushing from its base was a third river. At long last it was the place they had sought!

At the base of the mountain was a small hut. Peeku rapped on the door and called out:

"Hello there! Is anybody home?"

The door was opened by a strange-looking woman, of middle age, with black bangs cut in a straight line and wearing a pristine white cloak. Vera thought she looked very clean and tidy for a hermit.

"Why do you bother me so with your knocking?" she asked them. "I am busy shelling snow-peas for my luncheon."

"Indeed, there is nothing in this world more delicious than snow-peas," Peeku said with much charm. "And we do apologize for the interruption, but we have heard this is the place to find that which is lost."

The woman eyed them with much suspicion. "Unless you are looking for snow-peas, you are sadly mistaken."

Vera cried, "Oh! But we have traveled such a long way, so that our legs tremble and ache. We have both lost those who are so very dear. Is this not the place where three rivers meet at the base of a mountain?"

"Well, there are three rivers... one, two, three... and last I checked that there is a mountain behind us, but that is all," the woman said, unmoved.

A silence fell over them until Peeku asked:

"What do you want? We have little to give, but ask and you shall receive."

The woman gave them a wry smile and said, "I want your souls."

"Our souls?" Vera cried with a shudder.

The woman stared long and hard at Vera before she began to giggle.

"I'm just having fun. It is so lonely here... it's not often I get to talk to other people."

"So no souls, then?" Peeku asked.