They gathered a stack of the dried stems of the mushrooms and corded them against the night. Gary, carefully shielding the flame with a protecting hand, struck a match and started a small fire.
The sun had set and the stars were coming out in the hazy darkness of the sky… but stars they did not know.
They crouched by the fire, more for the companionship of its flames than for the heat it gave, and watched the stars grow brighter, listening to the chattering of the busy goblins in the mushrooms behind them.
"We'll need water," said Caroline.
Gary nodded. "We'll try filtering it. Lots of sand. Sand is a good filter.”
"You know," said Caroline, "I can't feel that this has happened to us. I keep thinking, pretty soon we'll wake up and it will be all right. It hasn't really happened. It…”
"Gary…" she gasped.
He jerked upright at the alarm in her tone.
Her hands were at her head, feeling of the braids of hair.
"It's there again!" she whispered. "The braid I cut off to make a bowstring. I cut it off and it was gone and it is there again!”