I seized on that idea: make him understand. If I could make him see his own grim predicament… or shut up for a minute to let me explain it… maybe that would be enough.

“Let in—” I began.

“Assassin!”

“Le—”

“Murderer!”

“—me explai—”

“Traitor!”

“—it to you!”

“Oath-breaker!”

I paused. The abuse didn't stop for a second.

A human being who talked and screamed and shouted non-stop would rapidly lose his voice. What about a tree? I didn't know. But I intended to find out.

“Liege-killer!”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Tell me about it.”

And he did, calling me every sort of vile name imaginable—and some I never would have imagined. Through it all I just stood there and nodded, smiling now and again, making encouraging noises at all the right places. Maybe all he needed was time to talk himself hoarse.

Well, let him! His words couldn't hurt me.

Finally, as he began to repeat himself, I decided to take a rest. I sat beneath its spreading branches, stretched out my legs, and gave a wide yawn. Wriggling my back, I found a comfortable spot against the trunk, leaned back, and shut my eyes.

Abruptly the abuse stopped. I opened one eye.

“Go on,” I said. “Don't stop.”

“What are you doing?” he cried.

“Taking a nap.”

“Stop it! Murderer! Help me, someone!”

“Go on,” I said sarcastically. “I love the sound of your voice.”

If anything, that seemed to enrage him. He screamed, shouted, threatened, and insulted me time and again.

Despite the constant stream of abuse, it actually did feel nice to relax. I could even fall asleep here…

Closing my eyes again, I pretended to snore.

After ten minutes, the cursing and name-calling came to a stop. Now the tree muttered the vilest of threats under its breath, promises to disembowel, behead, and boil me in oil—sometimes all at once.

Minor progress, but progress nonetheless. I continued to snore.

The muttering lasted another ten minutes or so. At last it grew silent. Had I outlasted it? Had its murderous rage finally passed? Would it talk civilly to me now?

Cautiously opening one eye, I peeked up at King Elnar's face. He stared down at me, frowning severely.

“Don't stop,” I said with a chuckle. “The music of your voice soothes my sleep.”

“What are you doing?” it demanded.

“Resting.”

“Why?”

“I felt like it.”

“Traitor!”

“Scream all you want,” I said, folding my arms behind my head and closing my eyes. “It doesn't bother me a bit.”

“Why not?”

“We're far from Ilerium. I don't have to worry about hell-creatures finding and killing me here.”

“Why not?”

“It's just you and me, old friend. No one can hear you, so go ahead! Scream all you want! Curse. Call me names. It doesn't bother me. No one can hear you. After all, we're alone in this world.”

“I don't believe you.”

“And I don't care.” I closed my eyes. This time, I almost did fall asleep.

When at last it spoke again, suspicion hardened its voice. “What do you mean, alone?”

“We aren't in Ilerium anymore, old friend. We're in a new world… an empty world. No people. No hell-creatures. Just you and me. And you're a tree.”

“You're a liar!”

I actually laughed. “I wish I had a looking-glass. You're not even a tree—you're a face stuck in a tree. Now that's funny! King of Shrubbery, I'll call you!”

“Liar!”

“Shrub!”

When it didn't reply, I squinted critically up at the twisted, gnarled trunk. Had my words finally sunk in?

“You're not even a very good looking tree,” I went on. Why not add insult to injury? “You're lucky I don't have an axe. I have a feeling you'd make better kindling than anything else.”

“Liar! Liar!”

“Don't you believe me?” I streched one arm up, caught a low-hanging branch, and broke off a handful of leaves with a twist of my wrist.

“Ow!” it cried.

“Look! You really are a tree, whether you want to admit it or not!”

“That hurt!”

“What hurt?” I demanded.

“My… my leaves?” A horror-struck look came over the face, as it realized what it had said.

Leaves. Its leaves.

I smiled grimly.

“That's right, Your Highness,” I said. “As I already told you, you're a tree now, complete with roots, trunk, branches, and quite a nice bunch of leaves. Everything I've said to you has been the truth.”

Casually, I reached up and snapped off a small branch just above my head. I got a shriek in return.

“See?”

“Stop that!”

Perhaps I'd found the negotiating tactic I needed.

I said, “You need to keep a civil tongue, O King of Shrubbery. Set a good example for your people.” I nodded to one side. “The blackberry bushes over there are watching, after all.”

“Do not mock me, traitor!”

“Why not? It's fun.”

“Woe!” cried King Elnar's voice. “I am lost! I am a tree, and I am lost!”

“Be quiet,” I said, reaching for another branch, “or I will have to do a fair amount of pruning…”

The face closed its mouth with a snap. The silence seemed unexpected—almost unnatural. If it had enough sense left for self-preservation, what else might it be capable of? Maybe more of King Elnar remained than I had dared to hope.

Slowly I lowered my arm.

“If you're going to be reasonable,” I said calmly, “we can work things out between us.”

“You are trying to trick me!”

“Why would I do that?”

“I… I don't know. But you will! That's what traitors and murderers do!”

“Here's a thought. Maybe I won't trick you. I have no reason to, after all. And I'm neither a traitor nor a murderer. Don't call me that.”

“But—”

“But nothing! Everything I've told you has been the truth. You really are a face stuck in a tree. Hell-creatures killed you, not me. They put those words in your mouth and made you say them. The man I knew, the man you once were, would never have believed their lies. We fought them together, side by side.”

The face and I stared at one another. I didn't know what else to add; apparently, neither did he. We had reached an impasse. At least he had stopped yelling and calling me names.

Then a bird flew past, twittering loudly. I sat up, startled. A bird—the first animal I had yet seen in this world! It seemed the unicorns had left more than mere greenery and magical trees in their wake. I watched the bird land twenty feet away. It picked up a piece of grass, then flew to a nearby tree, where it seemed to be building a nest. If this world had animals, what else might there be? Perhaps… people?

Rising, I turned slowly, searching for any sign of civilization—houses, smoke from cooking fires, anything that spoke of a human presence. My gaze lingered a long time in the direction the unicorns had gone.

A perfect stream, surrounded by cattails and thick green reeds, burbled happily through the picturesque little valley. Iridescent dragonflies buzzed over the water, and a frog hopped from the bank into a blue-green pool with an audible splash.

“What are you looking for?” asked the tree.

“Shh!” I held up one hand for silence. Something felt subtly different…

Stealthy movement caught my eye. A single white unicorn moved with dainty steps from a copse of trees beyond the stream, lowered her head, and drank deeply from the frog's pool. She had something around her neck… something that looked like a giant ruby on a chain.

I gaped. It had to be the jewel my father had shown me in Juniper… the one he used to trace the new Pattern. This unicorn had to be the one that had helped Dad and me.

When she raised her head and she saw me staring at her, she stamped her right forefoot and tossed her head. I took a step in her direction. As I did, she turned and slipped into the trees. There she paused long enough to glance over her shoulder.