For the next few days, the Vien refugees scoured the barren landscape for anything edible. They found more lichen and thorny bushes with little tart berries that were more seed than fruit, but birds were safely eating them. They even found a few small grains growing in rocky depressions out of the wind. Further down the little creek, low nettle grew in the damp, and even scattered dandelion. On the south-facing slope of one knoll, they found strawberry. The low plants had no berries, but the Vien recognized them by their leaves, which were also good to eat.

There was not an abundance, but all these were brought back to Isecan and Findel, and soon the banks of the stream looked like a strange, luscious garden in the midst of a blasted landscape. Wild strawberries of unnatural size grew up the slope of the tir, and a ring of massive thorn-bushes laden with thick clusters of tart red berries hemmed in the camp.

Vah did not join in the foraging. Neither did Tessiel. She remained next to the small cairn on the side of the tir, surrounded now by bursting life drawn forth by Findel and Isecan. Vah watched with mouth agape as his brothers raised the garden with outstretched hands. The other Vien rejoiced. All knew that the strange pool they had found—that the others had sensed for weeks with a growing awareness—was the wellspring of this deliverance through the hands of Findel and Isecan.

How did they know? How did everyone appear to understand and sense it, when Vah could not? Despite feeling full for the first time in months, he was too tired and too dumbstruck to understand the events unfolding around him. A fear of madness clung to him; whatever was happening, whatever had come over his brothers, was deeply unsettling to him, as if everyone could see and yet he was blind, or perhaps that he alone was going mad.

After three days, Isecan sat down next to Vah near the flowing creek. A great sorrel grew, looking more like a palm than a sorrel, with great spreading leaves giving shelter from the sun. Vah noticed that two fingernails on Isecan's left hand had turned an iridescent blue, and the texture had changed from the usual smoothness to a raised roughness. Vah took Isecan's hand in his own and picked at the pigmentation with his own fingernail, but it was solid and would not come away. Isecan pulled his hand back.

"It does not hurt," Isecan said, and smiled. "Be joyful, brother. Wake up. We are saved."

Maybe Isecan was right. Maybe Vah should be rejoicing like the others. He was full after all, and if this. . . miracle was not just a passing madness, if it persisted, then they may yet live.

In the middle of the unnatural garden along the stream, the Vien had cleared an area by harvesting and eating. Through it the little stream flowed, and it was there that Isecan and Vah sat. In that opening, surrounded by verdant salvation, many of the refugees rested, sleeping or simply lying down, enjoying a sense of fullness after so long. Among them was a young Vien, not a boy nor yet an adult. His name was Fhena. Having come from the same village and fled together for so many months, they all knew each other's names. Vah noticed Fhena scraping dirt into a mound around the stalk of a small sorrel plant, burying it, and then patting the soil down. The lad stretched out his hand and closed his eyes, not touching the plant. His fingers started to curl, as if grasping at something. A shudder ran through the sorrel stalk. Its leaves began to rustle.

"Stop!" Findel shouted, rushing into the clearing. "Stop, Fhena!"

Fhena startled, opening his eyes. Seeing Findel, the lad smiled.

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"I felt it! I took hold of it! It was working!"

Findel's nose and forehead wrinkled, and he bared his teeth in a snarl.

"Never do it again!" Findel snapped. Fhena frowned, lowering his hand and leaning away from Findel's outburst.

"Why?"

"Never again!"

Fhena stared at Findel, eyes wide. Isecan stood up and took a step toward them.

Findel's demeanor softened, and the tensions left his shoulders, though his breaths still came rapidly.

"I do not mean to startle you. But look at me." Findel motioned to his marked face. It bore streaks of the roughness and blue and yellow pigmentations where the water of the pool had touched it. Findel held up his hands as well. The palms were rough with the strange marks where he had cupped the water. It was difficult to see if the effects of the pool had spread. If it had, it was insignificant compared to how the water had marked him at first.

"We do not know what effects the Wellspring might have," Findel said. "I do not wish you to endanger yourself. There is no need to grasp it. I will take that risk on, myself." Findel looked around and raised his voice. "Let no one else grasp the current of the Wellspring! I will, as we need, and Isecan I have for help. Let no one else grasp it, at least until we know what might become of it."

Fhena looked down at the sorrel plant, his lowered brow and frown showing he was not pleased with this injunction.

"Do not be upset at it, Fhena," said Findel. "It is for your good. For everyone's good."

Fhena's frown lasted only a moment longer before it started to fade. He nodded.

"As you say, Findel."

Findel smiled.

"Come, let us pick strawberries." Findel held out his marred hand to Fhena.

***

For three days, Tessiel did not move from beside the little cairn above the body of her child. She lay next to it both night and day. She had even stopped eating or drinking. Vah had taken her water and food, leaving it next to her when she failed to respond to him. He refreshed the water, but it did not appear she had touched it, and the food lay neglected and withered.

Findel had wandered off alone, but Vah had an idea where he might be found. It was not a long trek back from the tir to the vale where the pool of bubbling water lay. He saw the rising column of steam before he crested the hill. Findel was there below, sitting cross-legged at the edge and staring down into its depths. At the center of the pool, bubbles rose, disturbing the surface.

"Brother," Vah said as he approached, startling Findel out of reverie. His brother turned, his face showing a flash of either fear or anger, but when he saw Vah, he softened.

"Brother," he replied.

"I cannot reach Tessiel. I fear she will let herself die. I do not know what else to do for her."

Vah had often gone to his eldest brother for guidance and help before, but Vah would have had a hard time remembering what was so serious as to need advice in their lives before all this, when they dwelt in forests that practically wanted to meet their needs. Now, Vah felt the need for advice even more keenly, especially since he felt so far outside the instinctive understanding the others had of what was going on.

"We cannot allow that," Findel said. He rose and put a hand on Vah's shoulder. "It is good that you watch over our people."

"But what can we do?"

Findel pursed his lips and stared up at the rising steam.

"Come," he said at last, and started back up the slope.

When they arrived back at the camp, Findel walked straight up to Tessiel without hesitation.

"Tessiel," he said. She did not respond. "Tessiel, you are not alone. Your fasting and mourning is ended. Do not die. Eat and drink and help our people."

To Vah's shock, Tessiel turned and looked at Findel, their eyes locked together. Her bloodshot eyes matched her sun-rashed skin. They had all suffered from exposure.

"Leave me be," she said.

"No," Findel answered. He held out his hand to her and took a breath. "I say again, your mourning is ended. Rise."

A spasm crossed Tessiel's face, and her shoulders shuddered. Then, to Vah's amazement, she rose without a word and walked to the stream. Kneeling, she drank and bathed her face and arms in the clear water. Findel turned to Vah, nodded, and strode away, back in the direction of the wellspring.

Vah stood, staring back and forth from Tessiel to the retreating figure of his brother.

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