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his legs and lower torso with the blanket.
    He had to sit and rest for several minutes after that, but he took the opportunity to peer through the darkness to assess where they were. As it turned out, there wasn’t much to see. Their beach was a sort of tiny cove. Jagged rocks rose on either side of the cove’s mouth, while behind him, the pebbled beach gave way to sandy undulations covered in scrubby grass and prickly flowers. He couldn’t see what lay farther inland than that.
    There were no sounds aside from the lapping water and, some distance away, a metallic-sounding insect chorus. No obvious immediate dangers, at least. Of course, traumatic danger wasn't really necessary, not with Ennek barely clinging to life and Miner feeling so weak and lightheaded he feared that he would collapse as well.
    Water. They needed fresh water.
    Miner slowly rose to his feet. His legs felt wobbly and he tripped over the little tufts of vegetation as he stumbled his way through the night in search of water.
    And perhaps for once the gods were in a kindly mood, because as Miner rounded one of the great rocks he found a little trickle of water dripping from the top and pooling in a natural stone basin. He got down on his knees to lap at it, and although it tasted thick with minerals it was fresh and wonderful.
    He had to think then about how to get the water back to Ennek. It occurred to him that he could use one of his boots—not very palatable, perhaps, but he had nothing else that would hold liquid. Unfortunately, the rough treatment his footwear had recently suffered had caused the seams to give, and although he could fill the boots with water, it would all drain out long before he reached Ennek.
    Perhaps if it had been daytime he might have found something to carry the water. A shell, maybe. Or he might have fashioned a makeshift cup with some difficulty, using his one good hand. But it was dark and he was exhausted and his mind was too sluggish for inspiration. In the end, he did the only thing he could think of: he filled his own mouth with as much water as he could, carefully made his way back, and then pressed his lips to Ennek’s. It was hard to be sure, but he thought at least some of the liquid went down the other man’s throat. He made several more trips—pausing only long enough to swallow some water for himself—until his legs would no longer carry him and he collapsed on the beach alongside Ennek.

    ***

    He didn’t exactly sleep. He was too worried and his slashed arm was throbbing with every heartbeat and he thought he might be a little feverish as well. But he dozed a little here and there until the sky began to brighten and birds started calling raucous morning greetings.
    Ennek looked even worse in the daylight. His skin had a greenish tinge and it looked very tightly drawn over his bones. Against all that paleness, his hair was shockingly dark and his new scar was red and angry.
    Miner got to his feet again and found his little pool of fresh water; he repeated the tedious business of bringing his lover liquid, mouthful by mouthful. The tide was out, and he noticed some mussels clinging to the rock below the tideline. He used his blade to pry a bunch of them free and stuffed them in his sweater to carry back to Ennek’s side. Then, remembering the matches, he scavenged up a little driftwood and started a modest fire.
    He didn’t really have any clue how to cook shellfish over an open flame. In the end, he simply dumped the mussels atop the fire and left them there for several minutes, then poked them out with a long stick. It was hard to remove the meat one-handed; it was rubbery and gritty with ash, but it was food and his stomach was grateful. He had no way to get it into Ennek’s stomach, however.
    His hunger more or less mollified, he took a more careful look around. Even in good light, there wasn’t much to see. Fifty yards or so away the grass-covered bumps gave way to a sparse forest of low, gnarled