that the muck in the bottom was filled with fish. They must have been stranded by the drought. That was no good. He didn't want to squish them underfoot, of course, but neither did he want to let them suffer longer. They needed water, and plenty of it.
Perhaps this was what the quartz rocks were for: to refill the moat when it got dry. But there weren't enough of them to do the job. He needed to find some other way.
He lay down beside the moat and put his head over the edge. "I want to help you, but you will have to help me," he said. "Do any of you fish know where I can find enough water to fill this moat?"
One big fish wriggled a bit in the muck. "Scales," it gasped.
"What do your scales have to do with water?" Gary asked, perplexed.
"Balance," it gasped.
"Balance?" He was no more enlightened. But the fish had gasped its last gasp; it had no further strength for dialogue. It was surely very uncomfortable for a fish to be out of water, and talking made it worse.
Still, this suggested that there was water to be had somewhere. All he had to do was find it. At least he could help the fish before he departed.
He bounded back along the path. He discovered another fork leading from the glade in the cane grove. The wind was still strong, but he was too heavy to be much affected. He followed the new path.
It led to a small mountain. On the top of the mountain was a big stone, precariously balanced. It was a wonder the wind didn't blow it off its perch, so that it crashed downward crushing all before it.
Balance. The fish had said that. This must relate. But what did it mean?
He looked around-and spied another mountain, with another boulder. More balancing. But he still didn't know how any of this could help.
He bounded between the two mountains, hoping for some clue. He saw that the sunlight fell across this region in a checkered pattern, interrupted by the shadows of the mountains and stones. Halfway between the balanced rocks was a square that seemed to have been etched into the ground by the pattern of sunbeam and shadow. He wasn't sure how it had happened, because normally shadows did not stay still very long. But this was a fairly magical region, and with magic almost anything was possible. There must be some significance.
A checkered region between the balanced rocks. Checks and balances? The scales of a balance?
Scales. Now he saw markings around the square, as if something was being measured. He followed the marks, and found a single fish scale. He peered at it. There seemed to be words: RAIN CHECK.
Suddenly he didn't care about scales, checks, or balances. This related to rain, and rain was what he wanted. Maybe it was an amulet or other magic device to summon rain. He picked it up with his teeth and carded it away.
The wind was blowing more fiercely than ever, but Gary flowed on through it. He reached the moat and dropped the rain check in. "Rain!" he cried.
Suddenly the wind whipped into a storm. Mist formed, thickening over the moat. From beyond the horizon came a cloud, borne along by the fierce wind. Gary gazed at it. He knew that cloud! That was Fracto Cumulo Nimbus, who loved to float by and withhold rain at critical times. That was one reason for the drought. Fracto must be magically bound by a geis of his own, to honor the rain check when it was invoked. Thus the scale between the balances, there for Gary to find-if he could. He had more or less blundered across it, but had at least recognized it when he spied it.
Now Fracto was over the castle and the moat, boiling into a frenzy. The bottom fell out, and water gushed out of the cloud. The moat began to fill.
The big fish swam up. "Thank you," it said, no longer gasping. "You saved us!"
"You're welcome," Gary replied.