to take the first watch before lying down near the fire. Thom fell into a fitful sleep, wondering if the sound he heard had been a scream after all.
*
Cowald scowled at Thom as he watched him walk off into the woods. How was he supposed to collect water with no way to carry it? He wasn’t even sure where the closest water source was. He walked a little ways down the path behind Thom and scanned the greenery nearby. Perhaps he could find something to fashion into a container. He caught sight of a tree with leaves the size of his torso and thought he may be able to carry water in one of them, so he stepped off the path and picked his way through the underbrush. Cowald stood beneath the tree, staring up at its branches. He couldn’t reach any of the big leaves, and the few he could see on the ground were torn or too shriveled to be of use. Just before he turned away in frustration, he thought he heard the sound of water trickling over rocks, so he followed the sound deeper into the forest.
He came upon a stream in a shallow bed. The water was only ankle deep, but it ran clear and swift over smooth stones. He began searching along the banks for something he could collect the water in and carry it back to camp. He found nothing along the water’s edge so he turned back into the woods and searched at the base of the trees as he walked. His lips felt dry and his throat parched. He felt a strong desire to return to the stream for a drink, but first he needed to find a way to carry the water. He was not paying particular attention to where he was walking, but he was surprised when he found himself standing again at the edge of the small stream. Five small, blue stones formed a star-like pattern just beneath the water in front of him. He recalled seeing the same pattern of stones when he first came upon the stream.
Cowald frowned down at the water. It looked so refreshing and cool, he wanted so badly just to kneel down and quench his thirst, but he had orders. He quickly turned and resumed his search; the sooner he found a way to carry the water, the sooner he could drink himself. He walked into the woods in a different direction, carefully walking from tree to tree in a straight line away from the stream so he could find his way back. He combed through the underbrush, diligently looking for the hollowed shell of a pike nut. The pike trees were common enough near the ruins at the base of the mountain, so Cowald hoped he could find one nearby. If not the tree, perhaps he could find the discarded shell that an animal had left behind. Pike nuts were nearly the size of his head, although they were more of a fruit than a nut. The hard outer shell was the only thing he could think of that would make an effective container. He really wished he had his wand. He could have made a pot out of clay from the stream bed and cast a spell to harden it. Cowald thought he should probably make a couple anyway before he left. They would take a day or two to harden, but at least they would be able to collect water easily later on their journey. His thoughts were interrupted when his foot splashed down into water, and he jumped back startled.
Confused, Cowald stared down at the five blue stones. He was certain that he had not turned around and headed back toward the stream. It seemed impossible that he had returned to the exact same place three times, but even more unlikely that the star pattern of stones was repeated. There was something strange about the small stones. Their color was so bright, almost pulsing with a luminescent blue light, and they were so perfectly round as to seem unnatural. Cowald bent down to get a closer look. He tried to lick his parched lips, but his tongue felt like gravel in his mouth. He was so thirsty. Perhaps just one drink would be all right, to slacken his thirst before he resumed his search. Cowald paused, troubled. He couldn’t seem to remember what he was looking for.
The blue lights grew brighter in his vision and his thirst was