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‘A clock would be nice,’ said Garovel, ‘but it’s not strictly necessary. I’ve just been counting, instead.’

‘Counting?’ said Hector. ‘Counting what?’

‘The seconds. Ever since we got here, that is.’

Hector paused. ‘You can do that? That sounds impossible.’

‘Only needs to be a rough estimate. It’s not as hard as it seems. Plus, I’ve had practice.’

Chargoa barked a laugh. ‘Sounds like a story. Why don’t you tell us about that? Seems we’ve got plenty of time for all your long, boring tangents.’

‘Excuse me,’ said Garovel, ‘but as it so happens, it’s not boring at all. It’s actually--’

‘Uh--er, before you get into that,’ said Hector, ‘there’s something else. Er, I think.’

‘We’re listening,’ said Garovel.

‘Well, um...’ Really, he still wasn’t sure how to begin. ‘When I was meditating, uh... there was, uh... agh. It felt like this place... wasn’t... empty. I don’t know how to explain it, but I sensed something here. I think.’

‘...Can you elaborate?’ said Garovel.

‘Uh... it was like, space wasn’t... space. Does that make sense?’

‘Not really.’

‘Agh... I just, er--it felt like there was something else here. Or maybe that “here” was something else. I mean, I don’t know how else to... argh. Emiliana, did you sense anything?’

‘Oh. Um. Well, now that you mention it... perhaps I did. I thought I had just fallen asleep, but...’

‘So you both sensed something really weird while you were neck deep in meditation?’ said Garovel. ‘That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Sometimes, the mind just makes its own...’

‘...Garovel?’

‘No. Wait a minute. Did you--? Would that even be--? Hmm. Do either of you sense it now?’

‘W-well, no,’ said Hector.

‘Me neither,’ said Emiliana.

‘What are you thinking?’ said Chergoa.

‘...I think they sensed the dormant soul of the Dry God.’