“Those who don’t make it… I don’t know. No one seems to know. We even have poetry about the urgh… drowning. It’s stupid and I don’t remember it though… not much anyway.”

“What’s a ground stone?” A child inquired.

Clover pointed to the grey stone around her neck. “This grey one. We carve the markings onto the stones ourselves but each stone has a different colour. There are three stones we travel with. A ground stone to anchor us. Step stone to bridge the way, and a wish stone, to where we will go. The ground stone is always set to one 'thing'. We were told when we dive to think about the thing that seems most real and search for our stone in the water. We were also told never to choose something like a flower that would die soon… because if you lose your anchor, you can never travel again. When we remove the stone from the water… well… it becomes like another part of us. I could if I wanted to, instantly go to where my ground stone is anchored to. All the time. Without having to use a step or wish stone. It’s the one point in us that’s set and stable.”

“Where does your ground stone lead you?”

“It… I guess… to the first place I called home.” Clover said after a slight pause.

The children look at Bowden eagerly anticipating his answer.

“Mine leads to what I think of as home as well,” he said with a grin.

“Can’t you just travel with just a wish stone though? Why the step stones?”

“Well, I can tell you the story behind that if you guys like?” Bowden said, stepping in once again. He noticed Clover was getting more uncomfortable with the questions.

“Once there was a single Traveller who journeyed with just a single stone. A pathstone. But the stone fragmented with much use and three stones were formed, each representing an aspect of his travel. Word had it that the stones were broken, and others wanted to travel to the different worlds as well. He avoided them, but knew he was getting old and couldn't avoid them for too long. So, he chucked his stones into a river, and the river, the one that we drown in, became what it was today.”

“Also, if they travel on just a wish stone, they get sick. Terribly, awfully, seriously sick. I have heard it described that it is like jumping from a very very tall building and landing into thick murky water and then the water disappears and you are instantly on your feet,” Andy interjected. “Now, I think, that has been enough questions for the two. If you excuse us for five minutes children, I have to see to these customers of mine, and we will finish the…”

Andy looked down at his gold pocket watch and sighed. “…the next six hours in a little while. Take a break then. Don’t touch anything."

Andy ushered the two of them towards where he had an old cash register laid out.

“Now then, what can I do for you both?”

“Andy, I’m out of pathstones.”

“Which ones?”

“Obviously the only two I need. It’s nice that you have us do your teaching for you for a break, so I expect a break myself. A discount kind of a break.”

“Yes, yes…” he sighed. “You have no idea how much I needed a break, I’ve already been talking non stop to them for four hours. Ten hours every year. Doesn’t seem like much when you put it that way. Every year I accept, and every year I regret.”

“Nice little poem there,” Bowden sniggered.

“Shut up,” Clover said. “Pathstones now, please. I need to leave this place. The children are creepy.”

“Oh do tell me about it!” Andy pouted. “Unfortunately, I do have a slight problem… I’m afraid.”

“What slight problem?” Clover frowned.

“I’m afraid except for two more wish stones and ten more step stones… we’ve run out.”

“What? How could you run out?” She fumed.

“I’ll give you what I have left Clover, and I would sell you more, but the river. It’s stop giving us stones. I could sell you other means of dimensional transport, but that wouldn’t come so cheap. Not many people travel by pathstones much anyway, except for you lot, and well, you claim that you are going to be my last batch…”

“We are not making anymore of us,” Clover said harshly under her breath. Bowden put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“No, we are not,” he said. “What happened to the river?”

“I’m not sure, surely though you can see for yourself?” He said looking to Clover.

She glared at him, then touched the stone around her neck.

An image flashed through her head. A shack of a house sits serenely by a river. Its roof looks like it is about to cave in. A small bare tree lay to its left. A collection of wildflowers grew by the riverbed. The riverbed. The water is running wild. With fury. Cascading. It calls.

She lets go of the stone. “I… the river… it’s... Not happy.”

Bowden scoffed. “It’s just a river.”

“I sent people to collect stones, as we always do, and the men returned saying they refuse to go near it. No more stones they said. Didn’t explain why, didn’t take any money, just left,” Andy said in a huff. 

“Look, as I said, I'll give you what’s left of the stones, free of charge. I owe you over the years anyway. But unless you can find out what’s going on with the river then, I can’t provide you with anymore.”

“I… I don’t want to have to go back there,” she mumbled. “I’ll take your stones. Maybe after this case, I'll find out what’s going on with the river.”

“Good, good, I’ll go collect your stones and return to teaching then, you're not in a hurry are you?”

Clover glared harder. 

"Alright, alright!" 

A moment later, Bowden and Clover are standing in the meadow they came from, with a few extra stones in Clover's pouch. A slight gust blows past them and the little yellow flowers dance about in the wind. 

“This isn’t nearly enough for travelling, if we don’t know where the child is,” she said.

“It’ll be enough for some sort of a lead though right?”

“Yeah…”

“Hey, isn’t the scholar mantra backwards though?” Bowden said “Shouldn’t you ‘learn’ first then you ‘know’?”

“What? Oh… the children,” she chuckled. “Yeah… I guess it is.”

“So, where to now?”

“We find ourselves a lead.” She pulled out a wish stone from her pouch handing it to Bowden. “Well, touch the stone and make a wish.”