But she could not even read it! So how could she protect it?

Her thoughts began to blur as panic rose.

From above, a raven called out. Its raucous cry broke into her chain of worry. Startled, she drew her gaze skyward. His wings sharp against the clouds, the animal circled Mary several times. As he did, his dark eyes bored into hers. Just when she thought he might land nearby, the raven turned and, with a thrust of wing, sped to the west.

Watching him disappear, a thought dropped into Mary’s mind. And at that moment, she knew where she must go.

Wrapping a shawl about her face, she hurried toward the road that would follow the raven’s path—and take her where Anna had longed to return.

Seeing her approach, the great sycamore seemed to kneel, like an expectant mother.

The ancient tree was just as Mary had imagined, and as majestic as Anna had described. Its roots rippled like serpents through the earth. Its muscular limbs rose to grasp the sky. Seeing the tree, she recalled her friend describing the many hours she had sought refuge there.

On the wind, she heard someone in the village call out. After a moment, a child responded. The sound of voices put Mary back on alert. She knew she could not delay. If the villagers were to see her, a woman traveling alone, they might become suspicious.

With a deep breath, she approached the sycamore’s knobby trunk. Seeking a foothold on the lowest branch, she lifted herself along the tree’s natural lattice. Soon she found the saddle of branches in which her friend had hidden, high above the ground.

Reclining, Mary gazed out to where the mountains gave way to desert. She marveled at the heat waves shivering above the sand. Within the waves, she spotted a band of shepherds. They moved so slowly that they seemed almost not to be moving at all.

The sun then slipped from behind a cloud and Mary found herself contained within a sphere of illuminated green. The leaves surrounding her glowed with loud, confident color. She felt almost as if she could become a part of the green itself. Suddenly the brilliance began to dive and swirl. She dizzied as the ground disappeared. Alarmed, she reached out and grasped at nearby branches.

Then she felt Anna. Everywhere.

Startled, she spun around, looking for her friend. And though she saw only the tree, she had the sense of her friend being within it. As though her spirit had been poured along the sycamore’s roots and had risen to inhabit its heart-shaped leaves, its curving limbs.