Scott jerked himself to his knees, asking “What —?” as he rose, and relaxed when he saw what Zack had first sensed.
One of the trees at the edge of the clearing, twenty meters away, only partially concealed a dark shape, which they both recognized as a person-sized silhouette after a moment. Zack glanced around, searching for other hidden forms, found none, and looked back to see Scott starting forward and calling, “Hey …”
Zack made a grab for him and missed. He did not bother with a second try because the newcomer was already coming out from behind the tree into the clearing. In the sunlight, his spiky black-brown hair, standing almost a hand’s length above his head, turned a light tawn color. He walked slowly and seemed to be limping.
“Hey,” Scott called again. “Are you all right?”
The slim boy shook his head. He was definitely limping on his right leg. “Ah cain’t feel mah ankle,” he said, and slumped to the ground. Zack sprang forward from the edge of the spring, where he was still standing, and caught the boy just before he hit, snagging him under one arm and by the waist of his white shorts, careful to avoid further abusing his bloody right calf. Scott and Zack hoisted him up together and carried him to the spring, wading in to their knees with the dark-haired boy held between them. It took a minute for him to come around; Scott and Zack did not release him until they were sure he could stand by himself. He looked around at both of them and said weakly, “Thanks.”
Scott nodded. The youth still looked a little woozy, so Zack told him, “Drink some water. It’ll make you feel better.”
Obligingly, he crouched slowly, unsteadily, until he could scoop up some water from the spring without falling over forward or backward. The improvement was immediate and extraordinary; he had only taken a couple of swallows before he stopped wavering and began drinking energetically. At last the young man straightened up and gasped, “Wow. What is this?”
“We don’t know,” Scott began, but Zack cut him short: “It’s some sort of medicinal spring, I guess. It healed his cuts, and it made me feel lots better too.”
“Oh. Look, thanks again. Mah name’s Alexander.” They shook hands before Alexander continued, “Ah’ve got a friend back’n th’ trees back there. Let me call him.” Alexander splashed out of the spring, followed by Zack and Scott, and called back the way he’d come, “Colin! Come on, it’s all right —”
From behind the same tree Alexander had come, an even skinnier and somewhat shorter young man with short blond hair and, curiously, arms that looked too long for his body, stepped into the clearing, blinking his large gray eyes at Zack and Scott. He was wearing his shirt only because it was wrapped around his midsection, a broad patch of the fabric on his left soaked in blood.
“I hope this isn’t a trend,” Zack commented nervously.
“Trend?” Alexander inquired.
“The blood,” Zack explained. “Everyone I’ve found since, um, arriving here, has been injured somehow.”
“Uh …”
Colin grunted and pressed a hand to his ribs, doubling partly over for a moment. He looked slightly dazed.
“Colin.” Alexander went to him, looking concerned. “Are y’all okay?”
Colin nodded slowly. “It just hurts a little.” Then he gave Alexander a slow look. “You look a heck of a lot better, though,” he added.
“Yeh, Ah know,” Alexander said, a note of excitement seeping into his voice. “C’mere. This’ll fix you up.” He towed Colin towards the spring.
Colin jerked once and struggled weakly. “Hey. Ow.”
“This is a healing spring,” Zack explained to him, coming beside the two. “You’ll be fine in a minute.”
“Who are you?” Colin managed to get out before Alexander tossed him into the spring. Colin went completely under and came up spluttering, makeshift bandage and canvas shorts soaked, both arms held away from him out of surprise. Either from the landing or from getting wet, the knot holding the shirt on his midsection dropped loose, revealing a long vertical tear across his ribs, small but not completely closed up. The water that dripped down him, though, healed the edges of the thin gash until, just before the edges sealed at the end, a wicked-looking sharp bit of branch about a finger long was ejected from between his ribs to float off with the current.
Colin splashed out of the spring, wringing out his shirt. Zack held out his hand and introduced himself; Scott did the same. Zack looked around and asked, “We’re not going to stay here all day, are we?”
“We better not,” Scott agreed, remembering the black thing.
“Okay.” Colin nodded. “Where should we go?”
“That way.” Zack pointed at the far side of the clearing, where the spring ran off in a small brook into the forest. “Let’s go.”