Elowen shook her head. ‘The city was still here when we fled. Treeless, magicless, but still here. Some of us were so disgusted with the way the elders had behaved. My parents had heard of another tree of light to the south – the Undrentree – and decided to live there. A group of us headed to the Shield Mountains to start afresh. In a way that would not repeat the mistakes of Almberg.’

‘And that’s why the whole of Arborven is built around the Undrentree like that,’ Liska realised. ‘It’s the centre of everything. We all work to nurture and protect it.’

‘Yes,’ said Elowen. ‘It was only a small thing when we got there. Just the size of a normal tree, really. And the kittimews kindly let us stay.’ She paused to nod at Fishbone. ‘We decided to use its magic to grow and care for more trees. In fact, our magic became that of the trees themselves.’

‘And did you ever come back?’ Liska remembered how shocked Elowen had been at the sight of Almberg in ruins. As if she’d been expecting the place to still be standing.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Several times. Some members of my family remained here. And my parents’ friends . . . But each time we visited, the city was smaller. More and more of its citizens had drifted away. And those that remained had grown used to life without magic. They were coping, surviving . . . The last time we came here was on our trip to Nammu. These buildings still stood then. There were roads and wagon trains heading north. Towns and villages along the way . . .’

Elowen’s voice cracked as she spoke. There were tears welling in her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry. I led you here thinking the way would be easy. But everything I remembered has gone. We could be in great danger from all kinds of threats now. I misled you all . . .’

Liska put an arm around her. ‘Don’t worry. We had to come anyway. And without you we would never have found the passage through the mountains.’

‘Yes,’ said Lug. ‘I’m glad you’re here with us.’

‘She the only one clever enough to bring food,’ added Fishbone. ‘Even if it is tasting like dried mouse dung.’

‘Forgive me,’ said Elowen. ‘Being here . . . it reminds me of my old life. Back before the accident. When we were all just a normal family.’

‘It must be hard,’ said Liska. She had been trying not to think of her own family: the last glimpse of her mother as she was carried away on a stretcher. How they always seemed to quarrel. How, if they’d known they might never see each other again, they might have been kinder to each other instead. Being away from Arborven made it easier somehow. But the slightest sight or thought of something familiar would bring it all rushing back, just as it had for Elowen.