Godwin rolled over, opened an eye, and smacked his lips. He always awoke hungry. He scrabbled in the sand beside him until he found his bag of dates, popped one into his mouth, and got up. He pushed a bare toe against the backside of El Sareuk, who erupted with a startled curse. Yellow-eyes woke at that and screamed, and Ramizail sat up.
"Time to ride, old wolf," said Godwin. He went to the spring and drank deep. Then he walked past it toward the horses.
The horses were not there. He scowled, went through the palm trees, and made as if to set foot on the desert sands beyond.
The desert sands were not there.
He fell to his knees. His eyes snapped wide. Two inches before him the oasis came to an abrupt halt. There was nothing there but vacant space. The desert was gone. Everything was gone.
"What in the name of—"
He bent over the edge of the oasis. A thousand feet below him the desert shimmered coldly in the light of the stars. He could see their horses, the three saddle beasts and the two pack animals, standing in a knot with the Arabian camel they kept for emergencies. The creatures looked like insects, so far below him they were. He drew back with a gasp.
"El Sareuk! Ramizail!" he shouted. "Take care! The oasis has floated off its moorings!"
They came running to his side. Ramizail gave a little cry. "Godwin, darling! What's happened to us?"
"Lord knows. We're marooned up here, it seems." He lay down at full length and peered over the edge again. The oasis had indeed been torn from its base, and the roots of the palms dangled below the round disc of it, waving their filaments in the air. "By the rood," said Godwin, "if this doesn't strain the imagination! Does it happen often, old one?"