“Albatross, you sure you know what you’re doing?” Mal asked, standing very still.

“I know. Just take one step forward, two footfalls long.” The young psychic was staring at the ground.

“Only it looks like there’s something exactly where you expect me to put my foot.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Right.” Mal glanced to his right at the bleached bones lying scattered and broken under the tree. “Can you be a little bit more specific as to the nothingness it is?”

“It’s not real. A tin. Made to look like a mine to confuse you.” She looked up at him, her dark eyes piercing him to his rapidly deteriorating core. “Captain, if you don’t hurry up you’re going to fall over from dehydration and that would be messy.”

“I’ve a notion you’re right.” He lifted his leg, his vision beginning to blur. “Um, how far?”

“Two footfalls. I’ll guide you.”

Trying to balance he stepped forward slowly, closing his eyes as he put his foot down on the sand, feeling something metallic beneath his bare skin that squashed as he leaned his weight on it. He opened one eye warily. He still appeared to be all in one piece. “River?” he asked.

“Mmn?”

“I'm kinda stuck here. Want to tell me where to put my other foot?”

“Shh, I'm concentrating.”

“Can you concentrate a mite faster?”

“Do you want me to do this fast, or do it right?”

He shrugged and nodded at the same time. “Good point.” He waited, the sunlight beating down on his exposed head and naked back. “It’s still a good point,” he finally added, “but I'm about to make that mess we were talking about.” He couldn’t see too well anymore, and the pounding headache wasn’t helping.

“Swing your left leg in front and to the side.”

“What?”

“Put your weight onto your right leg and swing your left in front of you. Put it down when I say.”

“River, I'm sorry, but I have no idea what the diyu you’re …” His voice faltered as he heard a rushing in his ears. Great, his inner captain said. Not only are you stuck, half-naked in the middle of a minefi