“Well, we’re going the right way,” he said as he backed out of the water. “There must be some kind of opening that allows the water to get in here. If the tide were lower, maybe we would find our way out.”
“We can’t afford to wait that long,” Iarion said. Barlo heard rustling in the darkness coming from his direction. “Barlo, why am I so itchy?”
Barlo smirked in the darkness as he scratched at his beard. “I guess fleas like the taste of elf after all.”
Iarion uttered an irritated sigh. “Well, that tears it. This is by far the worst journey ever. If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re trying to kill me.”
“What?” Barlo spluttered. “I’ve been taking care of you! Who’s been setting up camp, and coming to your rescue when you’re outnumbered?”
“Let’s see... First there was the moth
