Tarn pulled a tin cup from the bottom of his pack. He had brought it to the cave because he had come to dance.
Nell had brought a cart because she had come to earn money. She owned the cart, but still owed the wheelwright for its last repair. A trader named Sera had promised her a cart fee if she carried three packs of cave stones down to the road.
“An hour,” Tarn said. “That’s all I want.”
Years ago, he had taught Nell the steps at village weddings. She had never been quick enough to follow him. On this journey she had promised to try again if the spring worked.
He was old enough to remember dancing before Nell was born. Now he walked with a stick. He had heard that the spring inside the cave gave young legs to anyone who drank from it.
“You could fill a barrel,” Nell said.
“Then everybody would follow me home.”
They reached the entrance at midday. Sera sat just inside it with a lamp between her boots. Her three heavy packs covered the only broad, level floor beside the spring.
“Your cart stays outside,” she told Nell. “Bring it close enough that I can see it.”
“First we’ll see the water.”
“Be quick. I don’t leave my stones alone.”
Nell’s lamp had cracked on the climb. Sera let them pass her own lamp only as far as the pool. Its light showed a strip of dry stone no wider than Nell’s hand.
Tarn knelt with care, filled his cup and drank. He set his stick down. Slowly, he rose without using it.
The lines in his face eased. He flexed both knees, then laughed so loudly that Sera snatched her lamp back.
“Give me another cup,” Nell said.
She carried water outside to the cart and drank it there. Nothing changed. When Tarn followed her into the daylight, his back bent again. He caught the cart rail with one hand.
Nell helped him sit on a wheel block. “Only in the shade of the cave.”
He nodded, breathing hard. His memories had stayed with him. The water had not made him forget the steps of his dance, or the climb that would take him home.
They went inside once more. A fresh drink restored his young legs. He tapped one heel on the narrow strip beside the pool, but there was nowhere to turn.
“Move your packs,” he told Sera.
“And put them where?” she asked. “You two walk out young, I turn round, and my stones walk out with you.”
“We’re not taking them,” Nell said.
“Then give me a reason to trust the arrangement.”
Nell could force nothing. Sera had the lamp, the level floor and the goods that would pay Nell’s repair bill. Tarn had begun counting quietly, trying to fit an old tune to three inches of movement.
“We could load the cart now,” Nell said. “You could watch the packs from the entrance while we borrow your lamp.”
“Not for an hour,” Sera said. “My buyer leaves the road at three. A delay could cost me a sale. I’m paying you to get there in time.”
Nell went outside and pulled her empty cart to the mouth of the cave. From Sera’s seat, it was plainly visible. She set the brake and returned.
“We load your packs now,” she said. “You sit by the entrance and watch them. Lend us your lamp and clear this floor for one hour. I’ll take the packs to the road without the cart fee.”
Sera leaned forward. “Free?”
“That’s what I said.”
Sera looked at the sun. “The road takes an hour if the cart rolls well. We should still make three. I’ll take that chance for the money I’d save. But only one hour in here.”
The bargain cost Nell the money she had come for. It was also small enough for Sera to believe.
Together they carried the packs out and tied them to the cart. Sera checked each knot. Then she sat at the entrance, with the cart in sight, and handed Tarn the lamp.
He placed it on a ledge. The cleared floor was dusty and uneven at one edge, but wide enough for a turn. He drank once more and held out his hand to Nell.
“Do you remember the steps?”
“Not well.”
“Good. You won’t tell me I’m doing them wrong.”
He showed her where to put her feet. They danced to his counting, then to his humming. Sera watched the cart. Once Nell caught Sera tapping a boot against the entrance stone.
At the end of the hour Tarn took back his stick. He walked outside slowly, knowing what would happen. Nell stood beside him until his old legs were steady.
He kept the empty cup. There was no point taking spring water home.
At the road, Sera received her packs and paid no fee, as agreed. Nell still owed the wheelwright. Before leaving, she borrowed Sera’s pencil and wrote a message for him on the back of the haulage slip: she could carry his timber on Thursday in part payment, if he had a load ready.
Tarn waited beside the cart. On the way home he counted the dance steps for her, and Nell counted where she ought to have turned.
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