Clotnik's fidgeting had increased; seemingly unaware of his actions, he pulled small tufts from his brown beard. "We've got to runl" he blurted.

But Tanis shook his head and stopped the dwarf from edging away with a curt wave of one hand. "Impossible," the half-elf replied. "You can't outrun a grass fire. Besides, it could be miles wide. We'd never outflank it. Our best chance is right here; we've got the lake to protect us."

"We could go back the way we came. The fire wouldn't burn through the woods as fast as it will sweep down the meadows."

'That's true," conceded Tanis. "Then let's go I" "No."

The small dwarven body nearly vibrated with frustration. "Why not?" he demanded.

Tanis, sympathizing with his companion's fear, tried to keep his voice soothing. 'This wood is small. We came through meadows to get here. This is like an island of trees, and we could get trapped in an inferno. No, this is the safest place to make our stand." The half-elf smiled reassuringly as the dwarf made a visible attempt to control his nerves, shoving his fists deep into the pockets of his dark brown trousers and acting as though witnessing killer grass fires were as everyday an event as juggling for travelers in far-flung inns.

"What do we do?" asked Clotnik.

"There's a fallen tree back by the edge of the lake," Tanis recalled. "Let's shove it into the water. At least we'll have something to hold on to."

Clotnik began to turn and run, but Tanis grabbed him by the edge of his green tunic, "fill the water pouches. When this is over, the lake may be full of soot and ash."

The juggler nodded and hurried toward the lake.