She pushed one finger into the mud at the edge and lifted it. The moisture coating her fingertip vanished within seconds, leaving a trace of pale dust behind.
Celine knelt beside the channel. "If the soil isn't retaining the water, where is it going?"
"We don't know," Misty said. "There is no drainage beneath the field, and nothing is collecting farther downhill. The water disappears after the earth absorbs it."
A worker standing nearby raised a waterskin and drank deeply. His wife watched him swallow, then caught his wrist when he lifted it again.
"Joren, slow down. That's your fifth skin since sunrise."
The man pulled against her grip. His lips were wet, though the skin around them had begun to crack. "I know how much I've had. I'm still thirsty."
"You made yourself sick twice yesterday."
"And I was thirsty afterward."
Ludwig crossed the distance and held out his hand. "Give me the skin."
