The tiny blue and yellow orb faded into the dry earth in a barren, lonely spot between two rocks. Odd kicked a rusted out, bullet-riddled can out of the way and began digging with all the energy he had left in him. Four heavy shovels full of compacted dry earth and he stopped, leaning against the old splitery spade for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Water. The magics had told him it was here, and the magics never lied. But what if it was far deeper than he had strength for? Then he would die here, he supposed.