When he got closer, he began looking for the places where their boots had imprinted. When he found one, he obscured it, breaking the link between them leaving and when they headed for the oak tree. Then he made a new trail with his feet and the thread he’d taken from Rochant’s clothing, moving in the direction of the Godroad and then turning parallel to it. Sa-at had never dared go to the Godroad before. The one time he’d talked to Crowflies about it, the Birdkin had got so upset he’d never mentioned it again. He knew from the forest that the Godroad was poison but if that was the case, why would Rochant think of using it? He had so many questions to ask, he worried that he might not be able to remember them all.

Aware that Crowflies was getting agitated, he turned towards the Godroad, making sure the trail was heading towards it, and then stopped. In the distance he could just make out a faint glow in the air. It didn’t look like poison to him. It looked pretty, but he remained wary. Everyone knew that the most dangerous things in the Wild were the pretty ones.

He leaned against a nearby tree as he pulled Tal’s boots on, and it touched a branch to his back for support. ‘You’re so much friendlier than the oak,’ he said, and the words were caught in its leaves and whispered back, pleased. Once this was done he walked backwards alongside the trail he had just made, so it would seem like two people had come this way instead of one. However, the prints didn’t seem right and so he began to stomp more heavily.

‘Better.’

He decided it was quite fun walking backwards whilst pretending to be Tal. The only problem was that the boots were far too big for him and he had to stop every few paces to keep his feet from slipping out.

By the time he’d got back to where his new trail started, Crowflies was calling his name.

They’re here.

He slipped off Tal’s boots, tucked them under his arm, and scurried away, heading deeper into the Wild. He travelled quickly but did not run, focusing on making as little impression as possible. Instincts led him back towards parts of the forest that he knew, until he found one of his friendly trees and climbed into it, letting the branches close around him. Crowflies came to join him, settling into the crook of his arm.

They stayed there like that for a time, bird and boy, hearts beating quickly together, until they calmed and calmed some more, and slept.

CHAPTER TWELVE