18
Late in the afternoon, as the yellow of the sun’s rays turned darker gold between the trees, Harkell and the woodfolk sat deep in discussion trying to figure their way out of the Lost Forest. This was too navigational for Tarkyn to be very interested. Besides, he suspected that they would only be able to leave when it suited the forest guardians. So when Midnight scampered off out of the clearing in pursuit of a blue and gold butterfly, Tarkyn headed after him.
At first, they followed the path of the stream in amongst the gnarled old trees, the butterfly dodging and dipping, always just beyond Midnight’s grasp. As they drew away from the clearing, the trees seemed to close in around them and before long Tarkyn could no longer hear the voices. The butterfly led them away from the strea
