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The tree swallowed them, the world turned upside down, then it flipped inside out again. Khaidu’s spinning head couldn’t distinguish between up and down for several minutes. During that time, dark-barked trees with trailing lianas and drooping, waterlogged leaves danced and did pirouettes with a sky that was grey-brown, with neither stars nor sun visible. When everything righted itself, Khaidu saw that she and Aglaia lay on a sward of prickly grass that was closer to yellow than green (if anything that drab could actually be called yellow). Those dark, thick trees were all around them, and next to them ran a brook with water so brown and still and fetid that it might as well have been mud. It was a depressing place. Khaidu sniffed her disapproval, completely sure there would be an acco
