The Fifth Magic (Book 1) by Brian Rathbone

Osbourne noticed he stood a little taller as he walked. An achievable goal had perhaps given them both a little hope. Perhaps the land was more welcoming now, or maybe they had learned with age to be more careful where they put their feet, but the journey across the swamps was not as unpleasant as it could have been. Rolling hills waited beyond, and the smell of apples was on the wind.
    "I think we're getting closer," Osbourne said. He sighed. "I miss them all."
    "I know," Strom said. "I'm glad you're here. A pretty lady would be better, but we can't have everything."
    "I'd trade you for a sack full of sausages, cheese, and springwine. Or any one of the three in a pinch."
    Over the next hill stood a place they both recognized; the mighty tree still presided over the sloping hills, and not far away, another tree cradled a stone as if gripping a mystical orb. The memories were overwhelming. Some made Osbourne want to laugh; others made him want to cry.
    "Gather wood," Strom said. "I'm going fishing." In his hand the smith held fishing wire and a hook. They were the only tools they had, and Osbourne was grateful Strom had managed to sneak them out of Dragonhold. He hoped they would not have to live off the land for long, but he knew they could if they were forced to. Strom had sent a message through the Vestrana, seeking a ship, but there was no way to know if that message had ever gotten through to anyone willing or able to pick them up.
    The realization they had no home was inescapable. All Osbourne could do was hope.
     
    * * *
     
    Even his memories of the Arghast Desert could not prepare Osbourne for the oppressive heat and searing sunlight. The sand reflected the heat, gradually cooking them. Strom had taken off his shirt, and his skin tanned like leather. Osbourne remained trapped within his long shirt, knowing the sun would boil the skin from his body; his fair skin would never tan like Strom's, and he envied the man.
    Much as Wendel and Benjin had done all those years ago, Strom and Osbourne walked the coastline. Bordered on one side by nothing but blue salt water and the Arghast Desert on the other, they suffered from thirst. Here the heat from the sands burned off any moisture in the air, and everything was parched. The sea water was salty and would make a person sick, and they had nothing to help them distill it into potable water.
    "We shouldn't go too much further," Osbourne said. "If we don't find water soon, we're going to need to go back to that last stream we found, and it was a long way back."
    "Just a ways further," Strom said, just as he had three times before.
    Osbourne knew they would eventually go too far and turning back would do no good. The only source of hope was the gathering darkness along the horizon. Rain would give them what they needed so badly. Lightning illuminated the growing clouds, and Osbourne decided he should take care in what he wished for. There was no cover along the shoreline, and he and Strom were the tallest things for some distance.
    "What do you think we should do?" Osbourne asked.
    "About what?" Strom replied, sounding irritable.
    "About that," Osbourne said, pointing to the storm, knowing his friend had been in deep thought. Neither was at their best.
    "We should look along the water for shells or anything we can use to hold rainwater," Strom suggested.
    "What about shelter from the storm?" Osbourne asked.
    Strom just shrugged. "Not much we can do about that."
    Together they scoured the beach, searching for shells, but most were small, broken, and not much use. Strom had just found a conical shell the size of his fist when Osbourne saw something he would never have expected. Some kind of cross between a balloon and a ship emerged from the storm clouds, rocking and bucking like a prize bull, and the thing managed to lurch its way toward where Strom and Osbourne stood. The shell slid from Strom's hand as he stood agape.
    "Is that who I think it is?" Strom asked.
    "Who else could