Ark didn’t pause. He was off even before the thump of body falling on wood. His pursuer’s scream would have been as good as an alarm bell, and where there was one guard, more were sure to follow. At least, Ark thought, tasting the adrenaline of escape, he’d bought himself some time. But the branch line he was following was long and straight and seemed to keep going forever. He knew that the next turnoff was nearly a quarter of a mile away, and his thin legs were beginning to cramp with the effort of the chase.

He scanned the way ahead and skidded to a sudden halt on the treacherous woodway. His worst fears were already advancing in the distance: another guard, twice the size of the first, footsteps creaking toward Ark. The man’s stiletto was drawn purposefully, its sharp blade shimmering in the rain. Ark could make out a rough scar zigzagging across the man’s shaved head like a bolt of lightning.

Ark spun around. He’d have to double back. How far to the next branch crossing and, even if he got there, where next? He looked over his shoulder and saw that the guard had broken into a run and was shouting and pointing. As he turned again, he saw why. Farther along, the first guard — the one he thought he’d knocked out cold — was already sitting up. Could things get any worse? This time, there was no welcoming crossroads, no alternative route, nothing. Ark was trapped.

The rain soaked into the forest, thickening the mist that now hung in drifting patches. The highway was plunged into shadow and the two guards could hardly make out the figure of the boy, already neatly camouflaged in his stained brown clothes. No matter. Where could he go? They came at him slowly, sure of their prey, sure of the outcome. No need to hurry: It was over.

The boy appeared to kneel down as if praying. Then he stood up, looked over the edge, and took a single step back. Before the men could do anything, the boy leapt from the highway, breaking the great unwritten law of the Dendrans:

Stay on the wood, it’s as it should.
Step off the tree: end of thee.

As the boy flew into space, the lead guard shuddered. To jump willingly, away from all that was known, down to the foul, poisoned earth so far below … it was madness!

They ran as fast as they could through the mist, but it was too late. By the time the guards finally converged on the spot, the boy had vanished. One of them crawled to the edge of the branchway and lifted the safety ropes to peer nervously over the edge. But even though he strained his eyes down and down, all he could spy was the lad’s plumbing belt, caught on an old bit of scaffolding on a dead trunk a hundred feet below.