With Charlie perched atop the roof as lookout, and I with pen and parchment, writing my request for the squarefinder, our magic palanquin drifted into the depths of Adytum Forest.

The treetops hung low like broken arches in a cathedral. Day seemed to have turned to night. The palanquin took us through the cavernous wood without a sound; only the distant howl could be heard of the mordant breeze as it snaked through the branches and shivered up my spine. Something had set the forest in a foul mood.

As we floated over a bed of fallen leaves, a creature within sprang to life, rustling loudly and scaring us rather badly before scurrying up a tree. Charlie began to hum softly to ease his nerves, and mine as well.

There was no path through Adytum Forest, for the place was always changing. The trees guided travelers as they saw fit, and one could only hope they were not feeling mischievous for his particular journey.

On this day, I fought to convince myself that our course was safe. Charlie wasn’t so optimistic.