As’ad was putting out the remains of his fire when a shriek met his ear. Looking east in the direction he had come, he noticed flickers of light on the branches of a tall tree he had chosen not to camp beside. The shriek did not repeat but was replaced by worried and frantic vocalizations. He checked that his fire was no longer harmful and took off running.
The tree in question lay just beyond a rise. Unfamiliar with its type, As’ad believed it was something known as an evergreen. Instead of broad leaves, it possessed a myriad of skinny, dark-green needles. Unlike anything nearby, it stood out. As did the fire at its base and the female figure dancing around it.
As As’ad drew near, he recognized the girl who had given him so much grief this trip. In an instant, he absorbed the details of the scene and figured out what had happened. Her open pack was flung to the side, and a fire had been started in the dry space under the tree. Obviously the girl didn’t know any better. The dry debris had caught and sent flames racing up the trunk. As he hurried closer, the lowest branches also caught fire.
The girl exclaimed with surprise when he came into sight, then rushed to copy him as he began scooping some of the dryer sand and dirt mixture onto the out-of-control campfire. Unfortunately, they were too late. A loud popping crack sounded above their heads on the trunk. As’ad grabbed the girl and hustled her backwards, not taking his eyes off the fire. A section of the trunk ignited almost explosively, and he knew the whole tree was lost.
The girl stood where he left her as he hustled over to scoop up her things. He brought them back to where she stood hugging herself in the misty rain, staring with wide eyes at the catastrophe she had caused.
The tree now looked like a giant candle, and As’ad expected to be joined by others as they noticed. At this point, all he could do was watch to be sure that the flames didn’t spread beyond the solitary tree and be grateful for the cold rain that had been soaking the area for most of the day.
“You’ve never camped before, have you?” he asked, not unkindly.
A harsh half-laugh escaped her lips. “How can you tell?” she asked bitterly.
As’ad noticed her rubbing her arms and passed her the pack. “Here. Find something extra to put on.”
She finally looked at him with a grim smile. “I’m already wearing all my extra layers,” she confessed. “I didn’t realize it could get this cold so soon.”
He grunted. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”
When she didn’t answer immediately, he took his eyes off the inferno to look at her. She was biting her lip.
“I need to get to Jabal.”
He waited, sensing there was more.
“I don’t know the way, but you are going there, so I thought I could just follow you.”
A long, heavy sigh poured out of As’ad. “And how long did you think that plan through?”
“Clearly not long enough,” she responded with true contrition.
“Well, you can’t travel with me, and this evening proves you can’t travel on your own. When someone comes to investigate this fire, you can head back with them. I’m sure they can get you home safely.”
Her wordless noise of protest was audible over the crackling flames. “I can so travel on my own! I have been just fine for days.”
He let one incredulous arched eyebrow answer for him.
She huffed. “Fine. I could use a few lessons on how and where to make fire. Until now, I hadn’t been cold enough to try. But you can teach me.”
He turned away from her winning smile and started walking around the tree. She scrambled to catch up to him.
“I know you can teach me,” she insisted. “And then I won’t have to bother you anymore.”
“Supposing I do teach you how to operate fire, then what? Do you have a map?”
He continued his circuit around the tree, checking that none of the flames had spread beyond the dry patch under its limbs.
“I . . . could get a map, I’m sure, at the next village.”
“And can you read it?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Your silence is very reassuring.”
By then, they had completed the circle and returned to her pack. As’ad was confident that as long as they watched the fire, it wouldn’t cause any more damage to the surrounding countryside.
