While I Waited

Lucrative Finds

The storm passed, and I climbed from my hole feeling sore and thirsty.  My canteen held another day's water, but I decided to hunt again anyway - what if another storm came, and I ran out while burrowed?

I walked west, watching for the sand to change color, but it never did.  When night faded into dawn, I began to worry:  could this part of the desert be truly barren?  Is that why so many clung to the canyon walls?  Had I travelled all this way, only to have to turn around?

I was still debating whether to keep going when I spotted a tichu, its elephantine ears recognizable even from two hundred yards off.  If the rodent could survive out here, there must be water somewhere.  I gave chase.

The tichu, of course, was faster, but, remembering the incident with the Leever, I used an ounce of magic every so often to block the creature in, so I could catch up.  We proceeded this way, compressing and expanding like the ends of a caterpillar, until I spotted the tichu's target on the horizon:  a cluster of rocks in a ring too uniform to be natural.

"Sarqso, little friend," I said, releasing the spell for the last time and putting away my needles.  This was an old desert tribe's vault:  it would have water and jerky aplenty.  The thought gave wings to my feet.

The sand hardened as I approached; within the marking stones, it was hard as the rocks themselves.  The ancient tribes had carved various geometric designs within the circle, shapes that tied marking stone to marking stone and bent around a dimple in the center.  The entrance.

I approached the entry and found it sealed with a wooden trapdoor.  I frowned.  The desert tribes didn't use wood - they'd never journeyed far out enough to find any.  But I put the thought aside and focused on my task:  trapdoor or no, I would get inside.

I tried picking the lock first, but after breaking two needles I gave it up, muttering a half-apology, half-curse at Impa for the lessons.  Next, I attacked the hinges with my habra.  This time, the tool endured the abuse, but I quickly determined the hinges could withstand much more force than I could output.  I made a small attempt with magic, but my reserves were worn from holding the tichu, and that spell was more a barrier than a wedge anyway.

I sat back on my heels, wanting to scream.  The water was not six feet under me, and I couldn't get to it.  I simply did not have the power.

But then, I was blessed by Nayru, not Din.

I got up from my pout and reexamined the door.  It was made of dark, heavy wood, probably cedar.  I could pile a hundred rocks on it and it would stay firm.  I brushed my fingers over the surface and felt the smooth polish of a flame-retardant finish.  No fire would get in.  Not that that surprised me - Din was the goddess of fire and stone, and I'd already established she wasn't helping here.

That left Nayru, the goddess of order and natural law...

And Farore, the goddess of life itself.  

I looked up and saw the tichu, squatting on its hind legs as if it had been waiting for me.  When I lifted my head, it sprang off toward one of the boundary stones, bent over, and disappeared.

Cursing myself for a fool, I followed the rodent and found a little hole that was currently vomiting sand as the tichu beneath worked furiously to block the entrance.  

"That's twice now you've helped me, little friend," I said.  Out of respect, I circled the vault once more, eyes on the sand, mind on my feet, feeling for any soft spots that might indicate an older entrance.  Sure enough, I found one a quarter-circle away from the tichu hideout, on the side pointing directly east.  I had no doubt there were two others on the other compass points.  The ancient tribes did love their symmetry; I should've known there would be more than one entrance.