Lost by S. A. Bodeen

and followed Sarah back down the path. After being in the bright sun at the edge of the cliff, Marco found the light under the cover of the trees especially dim. He looked around, wary for any other creatures that may have found their way into the trees.
    Sarah asked, “Do you think those animals have something to do with the Curator?”
    â€œMaybe,” replied Marco. But he hoped they would not find out the answer anytime soon. They reached the V. “This is it,” said Marco. He rubbed his cheek on his shoulder to soak up some of the sweat on his face. He took a long, lingering look at the path they’d taken from their camp.
    Sarah followed his gaze and said, “We could go back to the beach. Maybe they made it back and are wondering where we are.” She sounded more optimistic than he felt. “Dad’s probably mad that we came looking for him.”
    Marco pulled a bottle of water out of the canvas bag and handed it to Sarah, then pulled out another. Without thinking, he put the bottle to his face, hoping to cool off; he was disappointed to find the plastic just as hot as he was. Would he ever drink cold water again? He unscrewed the top and took a long, unpleasantly warm swig. At least it was wet. He stuffed the bottle back in the bag. “Ready?”
    Sarah nodded. “You first.”
    That path looked much the same as the first, except that they seemed to be descending the entire time. The area grew lighter more quickly than it had on the other path. Soon, they emerged from the trees, facing a rock wall that rose about fifty feet above them.
    Sarah tipped her head back and gazed up. “Is this the same one I fell off?”
    Marco crossed his arms and looked around. “This might be the end of that valley. At least, the opposite side of where it ends.” He turned all the way around and let his hands drop with a slap onto his thighs. “I’m confused now.”
    â€œWe’re lost?” asked Sarah.
    â€œNo, we can always go back on the path. I’m just trying to figure out how to go farther this way.” A pile of boulders lay there, covered with vines. He walked over to them and started to climb.
    â€œSeriously?” Sarah put her hands on her hips. “Because we haven’t had enough cliffs for one day?”
    Marco looked over his shoulder at her. “I’m just going up a bit, to see if I can see something.” He grabbed at the vine on the top boulder for a handhold and it snapped.
    â€œWhoa!” He fell back onto his butt and slid down the boulders, landing on the ground with a jolt. He winced and put a hand on his back, which stung from being scraped. “Ow.”
    â€œMarco.” Sarah sounded funny.
    â€œI’m fine,” he said. “Thanks for asking.” He stood up and brushed himself off. But Sarah hadn’t moved. She stood there, gawking at something behind him.
    He turned. By tearing off the vine, he’d uncovered the boulder. Two identical circular indentations about the size and shape of doughnuts sat across from each other above the top of a jutting portion of stone. Beneath that a crescent curled up into a smile.
    â€œIt’s a face,” said Marco.
    â€œA face rock.” Sarah pointed at it. When Marco didn’t say anything, she repeated, “A face rock. What Cash said Fox was searching for!”
    Marco put a hand over his mouth for a moment. Impossible. Fox had seen the island and had discounted it, ruled it out as the one he’d been marooned on. “But Cash said that Fox had taken one look and said it couldn’t be the island, that there had barely been any trees on it.”
    Sarah glanced sideways at where they’d come out of. “But this island is jammed with trees.”
    â€œYeah, now, ” said Marco. “Maybe they weren’t here when he was.”
    Sarah shook her head, “I’m no expert, but I know trees don’t grow that fast. And