Immediately the sensation of being watched by hostile eyes flooded me. I took a deep breath and tried to focus my mind on what I needed. I wanted a stout, straight tree to cut into lengths for a corner post and my first few fenceposts. I resolved that I’d set the uprights first, and then use smaller poles for the rails. The deeper I went into the woods, the more futile my task seemed. It would take me ages to cut enough wood to fence even one side of the cemetery. The trees here were all softwood. My posts would rot through in no time at all. Why had I volunteered for such a senseless task?

And none of the trees seemed suitable. This one was too skinny, that one too thick, this one forked, that one bent. In despair, I finally chose one at random, telling myself that once it was cut down and limbed, Clove would drag it out of the woods for me and I’d at least be away from the darkest part of the woods’ magic.

I unpacked my ax from Clove and selected where I would begin my cut. I lifted my ax to begin my swing.

“What are you doing?”

The voice didn’t startle me. I turned to look at the same Speck I’d seen the day before.

“I’m cutting this tree down. I’m going to build a fence around the cemetery, so that our dead can rest in peace.”

“Fence.” His tongue twisted the foreign word painfully. “Pieces of trees all in a line. With limbs blocking the path. Other plants and bushes will grow along it.” I searched the Speck language for words that would approximate what I was doing. I had no qualms at all about letting them know I was setting a boundary.

He frowned at me, slowly taking the meaning from my words. Then a great smile dawned on his face. “You will put trees for your dead? Trees will grow on the hill that was made bare.” I heard him draw in a great breath before he exclaimed, “This is an excellent idea, Great One! It would take one such as you to see this resolution that could be made.”

“I’m glad you approve,” I said. I wondered if he could sense the sarcasm behind my words. I readied my ax again.

“But that is not the right kind of tree to take, Great One.” His tone made it clear that he was very reluctant to point out my error. I lowered my ax again. “What sort of tree do you think I should use, then?” I asked with cautious curiosity. I’d heard rumors that the Specks were very territorial of certain groves of trees. Perhaps the tree I’d chosen was precious to him.

I was willing to take a different tree. I was going to have to cut a lot of trees before I had a fence. There was no sense in antagonizing the man any more than I must. Besides, that was Colonel Haren’s order. He turned his head at a slight angle and almost smiled. “You know! These trees will not bring the dead peace or hold them properly.” We were talking past one another again. I tried to find a clear question for him. “What trees should I use then?”