Thirst

"I just need a minute," the girl said as they crested the dusty hill. They walked all morning. The sun was now directly overhead. Halia slumped onto the ground, pulling her knees up to her chin. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth and the dry wind flung sand at her eyes. A wild mane of red hair bounced down to her shoulders as she unraveled her shemagh­ and shook the grit from it. The gray cotton scarf was a waterseeker's best friend, it protected her face against the harsh desert conditions. She wore a loose linen shirt, the light fabric kept her cool, but still offered protection from the sun. Tall leather boots guarded her feet and legs against all manners of spines, barbs, and quills that could be found among the desert-life.

She took the waterskin from her belt and uncorked it. The sip of water did little to quench her thirst, but it was all she would allow herself. The water might have to last her all day. She still felt thirsty but, she stowed the leather pouch back at her side and gazed into the distance. Dry, cracked earth sprawled out below her and a lonely rock formation on the horizon served as her only visible landmark.

Makka laid a heavy hand on Halia's shoulder, she turned and looked up at the huge, bald man. He gave her a sunny smile. Baggy pants, sandals, and a bright purple vest were all he wore in the desert heat. He spent most of his time raising and training terralisks for the village waterseekers.

"Where to, boss?" he asked after he pulled her to her feet.

"Forward, for now," she replied while she wrapped the scarf around her face once more. Her hand strayed to her neck to make sure her dowsing charm was still there. The heart-shaped locket was a gift from her papa when she became a waterseeker. Her papa was a waterseeker when he was younger, and she hoped to be every bit as skilled as him. More importantly, she wanted to make him proud. She tucked the chain inside her shirt for safekeeping and walked onward.

An hour later, Makka broke the silence.

"Fry smells water."

"Probably the old drywell up ahead. We don't get credit for mapping a mud hole," Halia dismissed him.

"Nah, something else," he persisted.

She looked back at him over her shoulder, "Makka, Fry always smells something. He's never right. We don't have time to waste out here. He's a great pet, but we're out here to work." As soon as the words left her mouth, Halia felt a sting of regret.

Fry narrowed his eyes at her and flattened himself against the ground, sending up a cloud of dust.

Halia shrugged at the terralisk, "Sorry." Although Makka and Fry certainly made her trip more interesting, she intended to use the dowsing charm to find a new groundwell.

Fry blinked at her, then looked up at Makka.

Makka patted the reptile's flank, "Don't listen to this one, bud. I believe you."

Fry made a dry croaking sound and brushed his backscales against Makka's ankle.

"It won't hurt to check," he added. The big man stepped up beside her and Fry came bounding along shortly after.

Halia saw the top of the weathered rock formation jutting over the top of the next hill. She knew the old groundwell was dug in the shadows between the pillar and the rock face. They could rest in the shade before beginning their search for a water source.

"Alright, which way is it then?" Halia asked the lizard.

Fry did a scuttling dance and pointed his tail in the direction of the formation.

"Well look at that. The fella's onto something for real!" Makka sounded pleased.

The terralisk bobbed his head up and down.

Halia felt relieved that Fry indicated the same direction she planned to go. She didn't mind giving him a chance to prove himself if he actually sensed something. This was Halia's first time leading a team, but Makka, Fry, and herself had been on treks before. Fry was younger then, and gave false points so often that the team had to turn back and get a matured terralisk instead.

"Break after this hill?" Halia suggested.

"A breather would be nice," Makka agreed.

They started up the hill and soon learned it would be harder than they expected. Fry's clawed feet gave him a clear advantage. He scampered up the hill in seconds and chirruped encouragement down to his companions. Halia and Makka made slower progress. The side of the hill was steep and the earth crumbled underfoot. Halia nearly made it to the top when a handhold gave way and sent her sliding back down. After several minutes of scrabbling, the pair made it to the top. Halia dusted off her hands and inspected the scrapes on her arms. Makka came over the ridge after her. He stopped with his hands on his knees for a moment.

"My sandal," he panted, "slipped off."

Halia looked over the side of the hill and saw Makka's sandal at the bottom of the hill, well out of reach, "Oh, no!" She silently weighed the risk of walking through the desert with no foot protection against the exertion of climbing the hill a second time.

Makka leaned over the edge and grimmaced. "I'll get it later."

Before either of them could react, Fry dashed down the slope. He picked up the sandal in his mouth and scooted back up the hillside. He dropped his prize at Makka's feet and croaked at him. Halia couldn't help but laugh. Fry may not be gifted with strong sensing, but he had a lot of heart. The trio made their way to the shaded area and sat down against the rock wall.

"Here, bud. You earned it," Makka said. He pulled a beetle from his belt pouch and held it out on his finger.

Fry's attention snapped to the beetle. He scuttled over and plucked it from Makka's finger before crunching down on it.

"Now you give him one." He tossed Halia the pouch.

She caught the bag. "I don't think he wants one from me." She wasn't squeamish, but she wasn't excited to reach into a bag full of dead beetles, either.

"Think of it as a peace offering. He hasn't even batted an eye toward the old drywell. He senses real water. You know that."

Halia couldn't argue, Fry was completely ignoring the well up ahead. When she opened the pouch and reached inside, a hundred tiny legs scratched against her skin. She yanked her hand out. This was too much.

"They're alive in here?" she asked, looking inside the bag.

Makka watched her, unfazed. "A few probably got crushed on the hillside."

"No, I mean, you just carry these around with you?"

"Well, I'm not gonna make him eat stale food."

Halia stared at him.

"Just stick your finger in there, one will grab on," he persisted.

She held her breath and dipped her finger into the pouch. The beetles tickled at her fingertip. She waited, her lips tight. Finally, she felt six little legs close around her finger.

"Here!" she shot her hand out toward the lizard. He plucked the beetle from her finger and ate it. She snapped the pouch closed and tossed it back to Makka.

"Not bad," Makka teased, "Hasty, but the form was good."

Halia tried her best to maintain a frown, but Makka's spirit was infectious. She took out her waterskin again. This time, she allowed herself more than just a sip.

"Alright, lets find a new groundwell." She stood dusted herself off.

Fry made some movements and walked into the sunlight.

"It's close!" Makka said. He stood up and followed Fry.

They walked for ten minutes. Fry got more excited by the moment. Suddenly, he stopped and pointed his tail directly into the ground.

"This is it," Halia said. She took off her chain.

"You don't need that. He's right this time," Makka insisted.

"I know he is. I just want to use it once. Like Papa, when he was young." She said.

She held the dowsing charm over the ground.

Nothing happened.

She thought about Papa doing the same thing all those years ago. She thought about all the generations of waterseekers in her family after The Fall.

Slowly, it began to move.

Halia held her breath.

The dowsing charm swung in a wide arc over the ground. Water.

Halia put the chain back on and smiled, "You did it, Fry."

"You first, boss." Makka took a hand shovel from his belt and held it out to her.

Fry pointed at the ground again.

"I know, I know. I see you." Halia dug a small hole. The dirt got softer once she cracked through the top layer. She took out two scoops of soft dirt and the hole began to fill with water. Halia and Makka gulped the contents of their waterskins and refilled them for the journey home.

Fry dipped his head in the water and drank.

"We'll be back by dark if we hurry," Halia said. She bent down and poked Fry, "Ready?"

Fry took a final slurp and rubbed his backscales against her ankle.

"Well look at that," said Makka.

Halia smiled, "Let's go home."

That night, Halia went to tell her father the good news.

"Papa, we did it," She whispered. "Your charm still works, too. Oh, and Fry can sense water now! Makka was really excited, you should have seen him." Halia laughed. "I should go tell everyone where the new groundwell is. I just wanted to come see you first. I miss you."

She pressed the locket to her lips and hung it around the small wooden cross.

"You'd be proud."