Alice had realized, at some point during her wild, multi-bodied flight, that the swarmers could climb trees. They were heavy for their size, but extremely strong, and the sharp-tipped claws on their feet could dig through bark and get a solid grip. More importantly, they could work together. They hit the tree trunk and swarmed up it like an army of angry ants, the ones still close to the ground helping to support the weight of those further up. Many of them didn’t make it, especially once the trunk started twisting in an effort to rid itself of its uninvited guests, but those that fell simply bounced a few times, rolled over, and ran back to the fray. Within moments they had reached the lower branches and were running along them, beaks slashing at the hanging fronds, while gangs of them worked to hoist themselves further into the canopy.

The tree went berserk, like a dog suddenly assailed by an army of fleas. Every branch bent inwards, fronds reaching and grasping in a leafy chaos, trying to grab the persistent little parasites and pull them free. A few were yanked off and sent spinning across the fields, but when a frond grabbed one, a half-dozen others descended at once, chopping the offending tendril with their beaks and freeing their trapped compatriot. Alice could almost hear the scream of rage as the tree flailed frantically at itself.

She never could have done it before this. Individual control of the swarmers would have overwhelmed her in a chaos of multiple legs and eyes. But her brief moments as the Swarm had taught her a great deal about them, including what she could safely leave them to handle on their own. Each swarmer knew where the others were, all the time, and they could look through each other’s eyes as easily as she could see through theirs. They needed only the lightest prodding to do what she wanted, and once she’d sent them off, they set to it with a will.

She had enough concentration left over to wave at the tree-sprite as she walked deliberately forward, past where the cordon of hanging fronds had been.

‘Hey!’ she told it. ‘You want me? Here I am!’

The creature turned to face her, the branch it rode twisting around like a snake. Its green eyes flared malevolently. All around Alice, other branches arched towards her, and she could feel the ground writhing beneath her feet as roots worked their way upwards.

She stuck out her tongue at the tree-sprite and ran, staying within the willow’s reach but a comfortable distance from the trunk. The branches twisted round to follow, as did the tree-sprite itself. She saw it reach the end of its branch and leap to a new one. And, through the countless eyes of the Swarm, she caught something important: the tree stopped moving during the brief moment the sprite was out of contact with the wood.