The Well of Stars

They followed the damp sand.

It ran along the siq like a dark line on the ground, then grew wider, and led to a wall at the end of the bend. At the bottom of the wall was a large rectangular stone, different from the rock around it. It had been cut by human hands, its edges straight, and in its centre was carved the fourth and last symbol.

A drop of water.

"The fourth symbol," said Malik, his voice trembling. "This is it."

They tried to move the stone. They all pushed — Grandpa, Malik and Jana. It didn't budge. Then, without anyone asking him, Nader Bek came over, took off his dirty white jacket, put his shoulder to the stone and pushed with them.

And the stone moved. Slowly, with a deep sound like the earth growling: grrrrrrr...

Behind it... were steps.

Steps carved into the pink rock, leading down into pitch darkness. Cool, damp air drifted up from below, carrying a smell Malik hadn't smelt for days. The smell of water.