They stood in a small clearing. Fer saw no sign of the gateway they had come through. Dew pearled the grass under their feet; the air smelled rich and earthy. Trees huge and apparently ancient, great broadleaves, surrounded them. Their leaves glowed green in the clear sunlight, but darkness gathered underneath them, as though they carried great bundles of it under their outstretched arms.
Fer reached with her mind but felt nothing; an utter lack of life save for Seleena, Ran and Johnny. The wood was clearly unnatural. And silent, apart from the gentle roar of countless leaves brushing together in the breeze.
Paths led in all directions. They reminded her of the carved sun above one of the doors in the archive: the central circle, the rays winding off that seemed, through some artifice of
