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for Karsten , who gathered wood together to make a fire. Elias helped
him assemble twigs to start it with. Soon we had amassed a formidable pile. I
watched Kara knock two rocks together from her bag, and start the fire. Karsten took out a large metal pot from his bag, went and
filled it with some water from the river. He propped it on rocks that he had
arranged around the fire.
    “The water is clear, but it’s safer to boil it.
We’ll make soup, with some rolls I brought with me. We can drink the water too,
once it cools.”
    Then we all were throwing our leftover mushrooms into
the pot, and Karsten added a few spices from some
small pouches in his bag. The smell was sweet – my dry mouth started to water.
    Woltan stood for a
moment. “We rest here until we have eaten, and then cross this river and keep
moving. Kara and I will scout it out, but it appears neither deep nor
treacherous.”
    Kara scowled. “Appearances can be deceiving.”
    Woltan shrugged. “It
would be easy with magic to divine the best path, but I would rather not. The
dark lord will be looking for us.”
    No one spoke for a while then until Cullen pulled
out a small harmonica from his bag, and began to play, hesitantly, at first,
and then with more assurance. Woltan frowned – maybe
the noise worried him — but the others seemed to relax, and gradually I relaxed
too. Then we were drinking hot soup out of little tin cups, dunking rolls into
the soup. The rolls were good alone, but with the hot mushroom soup on and in
them, they felt particularly wholesome — I felt a warm feeling in my stomach
that moved out to my aching feet and legs.
    Later I would remember that fire, remember the
smell of the burning wood, the taste of the hard rolls gone soft from the
fragrant soup. And the sound of the water roaring past, the cold air, the
humidity, and the sound of one lone harmonica before it too fell silent, so
Cullen the smith could take his fill.
    Now though we were packing up — Woltan was already in the river, finding a path while Kara
shouted directions and watched him from the shore.
    He crossed in less than two minutes, walking
slowly and carefully.
    From the other side of the bank, he gestured us
on. It was strange to not communicate with Woltan by
magic, but I figured Woltan was trying to be extra
cautious.
    Cullen went next, holding his forge and his other
supplies up high and dry. The water never went past his knees, so I figured he
might not have bothered.
    Then he slipped. He overbalanced – he was going to
fall into the water, forge and all. But then he righted himself, and continued
walking, a little more cautiously. When he arrived at the other side of the
river, he waved us on as well.
    Elias and Karsten crossed together — Elias slipped at the same point where the smith had; again I
was sure he was going under, and I gasped, but Karsten’s hand was out in a flash. Then Karsten was slipping
too, but they remained upright. A moment later they were walking again slowly,
holding onto each other. When they reached the other side I let out my breath,
and watched it appear in the cold air.
    Kara squeezed my hand, and then she was moving
across the river, more swiftly than the others, holding her bag, with the
precious book, to her side. I watched her walk and tried to commit to memory
every step she took. She reached the other side, and waved me on.
    I walked into the river. The water was cold, and
my feet and shins went numb; the cold water seeped through my leather shoes. I
kept my feet moving, balancing my bag on my shoulder, my sword trailing in the
water by my side. My eyes stayed on the water, trying to remember where Kara
had stepped, looking out for hidden dangers. There came a point where the water
deepened to the height of my knees, but I kept walking, following the same
course that Kara had, and then it grew shallow again. I came to the stone patch
where the others had slipped. My foot gave way, but I relaxed, and let myself
slide,