It was not the traditional dirt or brick path that they were used to seeing, but a long, winding line of grass between the thick stands of trees. It looked as though tiny stars rose out from between the leaves of the bushes, or like embers from a fire. Maybe they even looked a little bit like will o’ the wisps, although they did not move as though they had a will of their own. They came in various colors, sparkling, fluttering on drafts of air, bringing a faint light to the forest.

It was like night in between the trunks of the trees, except that it was not completely black. It was lit like humble lanterns by various glowing plants. Some of them were the mushrooms that they had been warned not to touch. Others were the veins and edges of wide leaves that hung from above; these seemed to also be dripping with some sort of dew, and smelled faintly sweet. There were all also flowers with luminescent pollen, and it occurred to Cerys to ponder whether or not faeries might prefer those sorts of plants to others. That led her to wonder whether there were any faeries in the forest at all. It seemed like the perfect place for pixies and sprites to her.

She was about to ask about it when James grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the tree that she had gotten a little too close to. “Keep away from the ones with black bark,” he warned her.

“Why?” she asked him.

“Can’t you just trust me?” he replied.