it lightly with a finger. It was cool. He forced himself to feel it, then grasp it and pick it up. He stood up and slid it unceremoniously into his pack.

    He spent a brief time examining the twigs and sticks near the now-spent fire, then ventured into nearby brush, found suitable stones, and broke off several small branches with leaves still attached. On a mossy, open area near the fire he arranged the objects into a pattern. Using triangles, crosses, and other shapes, he skillfully prepared the communication, then stood back to review his work. The others, eager to leave and glad they were finally doing something to find their missing friend, came to view the message.

    “Gilin, nedsam rutwanym ut ilon serpodin,” read the magician under his breath. “Th...

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