It had to burn.
That was all she could think. It had to burn.
Standing there, in Savages Wood, looking at the tree, she thought she might be dissuaded. She thought seeing it would remind her that it was only a tree, an ancient wonder, a piece of nature. But she could only see it as something sinister. Perhaps it was because she couldn’t help imaging Damen’s still form hanging from one of the branches. But standing there she was even more convinced that the thing had to burn. It was like some great, evil spider; why had she not noticed that before? The way its branches spread out and down, seeking earth rather than sky, chilled her. And the whole entwined, tortured body of the thing was appalling, as if it were not one thing but a multitude of things, all twisting up and around ea
