His mother shook her head. “That’s the way of the wood these days. But bless your heart for believing it. Now let’s have a look at you!” Ark’s britches were scraped from climbing over the woodway. At least she had managed to sew up the rips in his stockings. “It’ll have to do.”

“It’s not a dress-up party, Mother.” Ark wished she’d stop fussing.

“There’s nothing wrong with a plumber’s uniform, dearest, but you should look your best for the King!” She pushed a packet of food into a leather bag. “May Diana put wings on your feet! Here’s a coin for the shrine.” She pressed a shiny copper into his palm.

“But, Mother, we can’t afford it!” It was worth two loaves and half a dozen eggs, at least.

“Afford? What price prayer? Now go, before your old mother starts to cry. And take care.” He had been found long ago, a gift of the trees. She didn’t want to lose him now.

Ark pocketed the coin and quickly crept behind the curtain to snatch a last look at his sleeping sister. She held her stick figure tight and her thumb had fallen out of her mouth. It was almost too much. Ark came back into the main room and knelt down by his father’s cot.

“Good-bye, son. Don’t let the buzzards grind you down, eh?” Mr. Malikum tried to smile, but Ark could see his father’s eyes watering.

Ark nodded and, before his face could betray his own emotion, walked off down the branchway. He stopped once and turned around. The forest filled with birdsong: robins, sparrows, blackbirds, and thrushes battling it out to greet the new day. Already, his home was lost among shifting shadows. No one waved good-bye. He felt a tightness in his chest, trying not to think of all those he was leaving.

He felt like a ghost as he drifted toward the local sewage station, lingering in the shadows to avoid the few Dendrans who were up this early. But they were unaware of him, hurrying about their business. What was his purpose? He had to get to the King and quickly, but how? Maybe Mucum would come up with an idea.

Ark set off down the inside of one of the nearby trunks, his footsteps echoing into the hollow depths. After a few minutes, he reached a landing with two exits. The branchway heading to the meeting spot was on his left. He paused, thinking about the coin in his pocket. The early service would have ended already and there would be no one around. What did he have to lose? He took a right instead and ten minutes later, the path led him to his destination.