Alice’s watch marked only four days and a few hours left when they stopped for dinner that night. She looked from the hills in her path to the mountains that were her destination and back again. We’re not going to make it.

Their packs were getting lighter too. Alice had thought they’d had plenty of supplies, but Erdrodr’s size came with a corresponding appetite. There was probably food to be had, in a land this lush, but searching would slow them down even further.

We could always try turtle soup, Alice thought sourly, watching the huge creatures, gleaming in the last rays of the sun, wend their way up and down the river below. At this distance, heads and flippers invisible below the surface, they looked like little boats.

Boats. She frowned at them, thinking of the ice raft still in Erdrodr’s pack. There’s an idea. If only I can figure out how to bribe a turtle.

It was kind of a plan, anyway. Alice sighed. Flicker’s not going to like it.

The next morning, Alice interrupted the first turtle that stopped to insult them.

“I was wondering,” she said, “if we could make a deal. We need to get up the river, you see.”

“Your intellect,” the turtle continued, “is clearly inferior, even for an unfortunate of a minor race such as yourself. I think—”

“Yes, yes,” Alice broke in. “We’re all terrible. You and all your friends have been telling us.”

“We are extremely perceptive,” the turtle said.

“But in return for your help pulling our boat upstream,” Alice continued, “we could do a favor for you.”

“Oh?” The turtle’s head turned toward her, black eyes gleaming. “As it happens, there is a favor I need, one even such an inferior creature as yourself should be able to help me with. There’s a spot on my back I can’t scratch. Flippers, you see. If you would climb aboard and give it a tickle, I would be most obliged, and I’d be happy to take you anywhere you want to go.”

This is going to be easier than I thought. Alice shrugged out of her pack and went down to the bank. The turtle shuffled closer, so Alice could scamper through the shallows and up the steep curve of its shell. The glassy, colorful substance was slick underfoot, so she moved on all fours, keeping her hands flat on the huge pebbly surface.

“A little farther to the left,” the turtle said. “Up a bit. A bit more. Ah, yes. There you are.”

It was hard to imagine a shell itching, but Alice had no idea what it felt like to be a turtle. She scratched at the glassy stuff tentatively.

“Oh, yes,” the turtle said. “That’s absolutely the spot. Keep that up.”

“Alice?” Erdrodr called. “Are you all right?”