They left the lake by a path that had not been there at breakfast.
Suth found it after leading them twice along the base of a low black ridge. Ysabet was beginning to wonder whether the old woman had lost her way when the elk halted at an apparently solid wall of branches. Suth touched her stick to the ground. The animal lowered its head and breathed between two roots.
Behind the branches, earth shifted.
Not quickly. Nothing about it resembled a door being opened by a clever mechanism. One root dragged through the soil, lifting stones and leaving worms exposed. Another flexed overhead. Dry leaves fell on Chaska’s hair.
“That is a terrible entrance,” the courier said.
“Wait until you see the plumbing,” Suth said.
Beyond the roots stood trees whose trunks were wider than Ysabet’s old bedroom. They leaned at different angles, bark scored by places which had once rested against other trees. Ropes of fine roots hung in the gaps. Where sunlight reached the ground, pale mushrooms grew in the shape of overturned bowls.
The elk went first. Suth followed beside its shoulder. Ashaun passed next, her left arm held close so the stone end would not catch. Chaska removed Lilt’s rolled harness and carried it ahead. The ray folded her broad margins and worked sideways through the gap, distinctly annoyed. Pip waited until she was through.
