“Harley, when can it be my turn?” asked James, casually swinging his barkless stick.

“I’ll let you know,” replied Harley.

“When do you think we’ll find Yoyo?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Well, what about Pinecrest? How long till we get there?”

“Just shut up and walk,” she said crassly.

James let out a sigh. He’d been following Harley for seemingly forever, and whatever excitement he felt before had entirely worn off. He smacked his stick against a leafy branch and water drops rained on his head.

The forest was wet from top to bottom and the drenched leaves were eager to shed weight. James wiped his forehead and smacked another branch. More droplets fell.

Meanwhile, Harley dashed from singing stone to singing stone, keeping up her brisk pace. Most of her hammer strikes caused the stones to ring like bells, but every so often her target made a thud.

Every stone looked the same to James. Nothing in particular stood out to distinguish the singing stones from the ordinary ones. There must have been some secret she knew that he didn’t—maybe the size, or the shape, or the color. He would figure it out when it was his turn.

“Hey, Harley,” said James. “Watch this.”

James held his stick like a baseball bat and whacked it against a tall tree. The tree stood strong but half of the stick went flying. James dropped the broken half and found another stick. Harley ignored him.

“What’s wrong Harley?”

She didn’t answer, so he found a new tree to hit. It was one of those strange looking trees with a face. The bark swirled around a knot in such a way that two eyes and a laughing mouth appeared to be looking right at him. He held his stick like a bat and gave the mouth a whack.

The tree frowned.

“Harley!” James shrieked. “Did you see that?!”

“Stop messing around. Just follow me, okay?”

“But the tree frowned!”

“No it didn’t.”

But it did. He saw it frown right in front of him. James started to notice the trees a bit more: the arching branches, the wide trunks, the grooved bark. They were very suspicious. Berwick had warned them about the trees in the forest, maybe these were precisely the ones he was talking about.

“All the trees have faces, Harley.”

“Of course they do,” she replied. “And so do the birds and the squirrels and the ferns and the mud puddles.”

“I’m not joking.”

“The trees with faces are the ones we don’t have to worry about, remember? Now stop distracting me. We’ve got a long way to go.”

Harley kept walking. James discarded his stick and walked with his gaze on the ground. His wet shoes started to bother him. He regretted splashing in the puddles. On top of that, the mud made it difficult to keep up with Harley and he slipped on a cluster of yellow-brown leaves. Doubts crept into his head.

“What if we get lost?” asked James.

“We won’t if we pay attention,” replied Harley.

“What if we get hungry?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“What if we never find Yoyo?”

“What if you never chased that bird?” Harley interjected with a scowl.

James felt tight in his chest. He knew what she meant. Like it was his fault this happened. It wasn’t true.

“I just wanted to help the bird,” he said softly.

“If you had listened to me in the first place we wouldn’t even be here. Now I’m barefoot and hungry and covered in crud.”

“It’s not my fault. I was following Yoyo.”

“You’re always chasing Johan, being silly, never listening. You need to grow up!”

James bit his lip and looked down. Parts of her rant rang true but she didn’t need to make him feel so terrible. He felt tiny, like he had shrunk to the size of an ant. She was mean. Standing silent, he fumed at her.

“Come on, James,” said Harley.

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He didn’t move. He didn’t want to go anywhere with her. Certainly, he would be happier alone. James sat on a rock and wrapped his arms around his knees.

“Maybe I was a little harsh, but I’m just trying to get us to safety as fast as possible. We can’t stop here. We have to keep going,” said Harley with a softer tone.

He didn’t answer. Her excuse wasn’t good enough to dissipate the anger he felt towards her. He was content to stay right where he was unless she said sorry.

Harley crouched in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Look at me, James. We can’t stay here,” she said calmly.

He kept quiet, avoiding her eyes.

“We have to reach Pinecrest. I heard the halflings have chocolate ice cream. I know it’s your favorite.”

“I’m not a stupid little kid—you’re trying to butter me up.”

Harley sighed. “Okay, fine. How about if I buy you some when we get home?”

“Promise?”

“Yes,” said Harley. “I’ll buy you a whole tub full if we make it home in one piece. Now let’s go.”

That sounded good to James, although it wasn’t the apology he wanted. He also had figured out that Harley wouldn’t go on without him, which was interesting since their parents weren’t here to force anyone to play nice. That revelation was the main reason he stood up and continued to follow her.

Even though she’s angry at me, she won’t go off alone. She needs me.

Walking with Harley and keeping up her pace, James’ eyes wandered the forest. He saw squirrels and rabbits, gnats and bees, finches and crows, and plenty of ants.

A bright green insect circled around a tree, then disappeared into the leaves faster than a blink. Five more appeared for a moment before darting into a hollow trunk. A seventh one appeared, flying over James with a pair of buzzing helicopter wings. At that moment, he realized all of them had been dragonflies.

James kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure if they were ordinary dragonflies or the evil ones with fairies, and even mentioning the word dragonfly to Harley seemed like a bad idea. Besides, he had other things to worry about—the trees with faces were growing in number, and each one seemed to be frowning.

“Are you sure we should ignore the trees with faces, Harley?”

“Stop asking me that. I already told you to stop and still you keep pestering me.”

“What about the stirge? Berwick said they roam the forest in swarms.”

“I don’t even know what they are.”

“They’re like big mosquitoes.”

“Great, more flying things that want to kill me,” said Harley. She stopped and pointed to the ground. “At least I found the first fork in the trail.”

“Which way do we go?” asked James.

“Barten said to go this way to Pinecrest so that’s what we’re doing,” said Harley, her brows furrowed.

“Good thing we met Barten, huh? What was he saying about remembering Ezra or something?”

“Ezrazeit. It’s some kind of evil place where people go to learn magic. And time speeds up, or slows down, I can’t remember. Don’t worry, we’re not going there.”

“People can learn magic? That sounds awesome! We have to check it out.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Harley said angrily. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Apparently the place is near Cutter’s Gate and who knows if we’ll even make it there at this rate. Come on, James.”

The trail curved gently up the side of a hill. It was less muddy, but the trees were plentiful, and nearly all the sky was blocked by the leaf covered branches. A marvelous tree grew from the crest of the hill with more branches than James could count, and its crown rose far above the rest. It was the perfect tree for a treehouse.

One thought led to another and soon James was wondering if halflings lived on the ground or in trees, and if they might arrive in the village soon, and what the halflings might have to eat.

“So do you think halflings eat pancakes?” asked James. “I’m starting to get hungry.”

“I don’t know,” said Harley. She sat on a flat rock and put her face in her hands. “My head is spinning—I need a minute to rest.”

James picked up an acorn from the ground. It was the biggest acorn he ever saw—long, oval, and bigger than his thumb. He put it in his mouth. The taste was as bitter as the shell was hard, and after a while of maneuvering for a bite, James gave up and spit it out.

He picked up another acorn, smaller, greener, and still attached to a tiny stem. There was a rustling above him, and at the very top of the tree was a squirrel hopping from branch to branch. The squirrel stopped, stood on its hind legs, and looked over the forest before leaping to another tree.

Suddenly, James had an idea. He excitedly emptied his pockets, setting down his leather bundle on top of the logbook page, then he skipped to the marvelous tree at the crest of the hill. He examined the trunk of the giant sprout, a force of nature indeed, and began plotting how best to climb it.

Deep contour lines formed within the bark in a diagonal pattern. If James chose his handholds and feet placement correctly, climbing it would be a breeze. Huge branches grew starting from ten feet or so, and once he reached that height, the rest of the climb would be similar to climbing a ladder. He took a deep breath, rubbed his hands together, and grabbed his first handholds on the trunk.

The mud on his shoes left marks as he made his way up the trunk and onto the first set of huge branches. Without much trouble, he scooted along the branch until he could reach another branch higher up, and he continued this method smoothly until he was in the thick of the tree’s crown. A gust of wind swayed the branches, but it felt sort of fun. He’d done this many times, though nothing this tall grew back home.

He shifted his feet for balance and heard a crack as a smaller branch gave way. Because he was holding on tightly, he stayed where he was as the branch fell to the ground. Thinking of the view at the top, he regained his footing and kept going. Nothing was more important than reaching his goal.

As he went upward, a smaller branch broke in his hand. James found a thicker one and again resumed climbing. Up he went, higher and higher until there was no higher to climb. He reached the top with a smile.

James clung triumphantly to the swaying branches and took in the view of the valley. Rolling forest of oak and pine stretched for miles, and in the far distance, a spectacular mountain ridge spanned the horizon. Searching for the halfling village, he spotted a nearby hill dotted with trees of white bark.

In the air was smoke, thin and white, and the source was the top of a stone chimney. The smoke billowed upward and away from him, dispersing quickly in the wind, invisible to anyone on the ground. The chimney rose from the roof of a shingled house and it looked quite nice although small. Unfortunately because of the dense clustering of leaves, he couldn’t see much more of it. The best course of action was to check it out.

“I need to tell Harley,” said James.

The discovery needed to be shared and a strong wind gust signaled it was time to get down from the tree. But going down was always harder than going up. James had completely forgotten about that.