"We'll be at Nathan's soon," he responded. "He's bound to know where there's water; he drinks the stuff." As an afterthought, he added, a smile in his voice, "And he needs it for tea."

It was mid-morning. The remnants of an early fog almost gone, the air was warming. They were on what was called Picturn Alley, a trail found long ago that affords the least number of navigational difficulties traversing this sector of the meadow. It's how trails are made in the meadow. Whichever one is traveled the most becomes the optimal and sometimes gets named. It led directly to a picturn bush whose fruit was considered a delicacy much favored among the scouts.

It'd only been a few days since their last, and first, outing and already the field of grasses, wildflowers, bushes, and flowering fruit trees were filling the landscape with all the exuberance, color, and gusto nature could provide. The only way to view the meadow in whole or in part would be to climb a tall bush or, better yet, a tree of which there were few and far between. So they hiked through a dense jungle, only able to see a little ways in front and even that not clear. Sunlight dappled through, however, sending shafts of light onto the path every few inches or so.

Leroy led, he could sense movement more readily than the others, plus, he was the biggest and toughest. Yancy brought up the rear. His hearing was acute, he could discern footfalls scraping the surface grains of dirt that were different from their own. Because of the enclosing overlay, they were protected from the breeze blowing across the meadow. Something was going on, they could feel it, a current.

Dominic shouldered his pack and nodded. In silence they resumed trudging through the bush.

At first, he had planned on explaining to the elders that they wanted to explore the region above the tree line. The cold season had been getting colder and longer. If the colony, or some portion, were to relocate above it, they'd have easy access to the forest, which they could move into during that season, and set up elaborate underground warrens where the grid of fungi lived. And the canopy's protection would provide cover. Near the trunks of trees there is hardly any snow; they could surface for fresh water and search the bark for food. The colony's population was increasing. Soon, it would become almost too hard to sustain themselves.

The elders would want to know, naturally enough, why up where it's colder and not down or to the sides? They are, after all, surrounded by forest. The meadow was vast and no one had ever ventured to its edge in any direction. Dominic anticipated this and thought long and hard for an excuse beyond his intuition. They were right, of course, reasonably. That part of the woods downslope would no doubt be warmer; although, not by much. A plausible rationale was not forthcoming. He couldn't very well tell them he had a dream, more than once, where, from a point of view above the mountain, he saw it spew boulders and rocks and a cloud of black dust that set the forest and meadow on fire and covered them by several feet, killing everything. But above the tree line all remained unspoiled and the creatures survived. It was only a dream, strange as it was, and for which he had no understanding.

In truth, his motivation was adventure, discovery, and exploration for their own sake; the dreams merely lent justification; although, not of any realistic nature. Perhaps, he thought, the two are actually related, connected, and his desire a reflection of his dream? A premonition spelled out in images of devastation, a major catastrophe. He had never seen, of course, how the meadow and forest and the top of the mountain look from on high, but in the dream it's all very clear. How can that be?

His attempt to come up with a good reason to travel that way and not others was getting him nowhere. Dreams or intuition, they wouldn't accept it as valid, he needed something plausible, something grounded in reality. So he had to ask himself, truthfully, why would upslope above the tree line be a more suitable area to move to or colonize than any other? In fact, staying where they were, in familiar surounds and a warmer climate, made far more sense. Certainly Dominic knew he could never persuade the elders to move the colony in any direction based on a dream. He eventually gave up. There were more reasons not to move than he could count.

So, true to form, he met with them in a room made for such discussion and simply and honestly described his dream, how many times he'd had it, and its marked intensity. Those dreams we sometimes have that are so visceral they seem real. He knew them to be highly pragmatic and stern when it came to matters affecting the whole colony, so he expected nothing less than to be dismissed and the idea of wasting foraging time on an empty, self-indulgent journey considerd shirking responsibility.

But to his surprise, after a brief discussion amongst themselves, the chief elder informed him that they had their help in whatever means necessary. A side of the clan of elders he wasn't aware of was their deep spiritual relationship with the earth, the dirt, the life-giving force infusing and manifesting one and all, besides the fact that it was where they lived. In other words, they believed him, his sincerity and their knowledge of his integrity convinced them that he had a vision, something not brushed aside lightly. And, it was a bona-fide scouting mission, an expedition, They'd have information of value regardless of whether they chose to move or not.

Dominic, Leroy, and Yancy had decided to go anyway, with or without their permission or belief in its rationale. Their society wasn't all that rigidly controlled. In their free time, they came and went as they pleased. They were of one mind but they were also individuals. But the elders were wise with knoweldge of the ways of things, how their colony fit into the overall scheme of the meadow's life. What was important to think about and what to ignore. So they deserved respect. Their unanticipated support overwhlemed him and not only gratified him deeply, but, surprisingly, pushed him over any lingering doubt he had. Maybe that's the purpose, he thought, behind having a mission sanctioned by those who embodied the colony and its history. He knew now he was doing the right thing.

The trail narrowed, the enveloping greenery brushed against them as they walked; Leroy had to duck down a little to avoid losing his straw hat. It became increasingly dark, forcing them to rely on other senses of a more chemical nature, when suddenly they broke out into a clearing. A few stones laid in the middle. It was a good place to take a break and have something to eat and drink. It was midday but the sun was having trouble getting through the thin cloud cover forming overhead, closer to the mountain it got considerably darker. Rain was coming. Before that happened they decided to get off the path and take what they figured was a shortcut to Nathan's place. It would be tough going but take less time. They rested on the stones for a while, preparing themselves, adjusting their gear so it fit tighter. They'd been on forced marches before, it was part of their scout training; time was of the essence. No ant wants to be caught out in the rain; you have to take cover to wait it out and they'd much rather do that at Nathan's.

They took one more long look at the position of the sun, bleary though it was, and how quickly clouds were piling up against the mountain, then Leroy took lead, his broad shoulders barreling through the thick foliage. Over and under; over and under, they tramped along. But after only a few minutes they came out onto another dirt clearing that seemed to meander in the right direction for as far as they could see. Luck had shown itself, they quickened their pace. The sky was losing its light. They saw other creatures, other ants, fleetingly as they scampered for home or some place equivalent--shelter. They came to a pebbly streak that slowed them; heads down they hadn't realized they'd entered a ravine. Off in the distance they heard the sound of thunder and reflexively looked up just as a jagged flash of lightning illuminated their predicament. The gully's walls were steep, well over their heads, the sandy dirt soft and crumbly.

They needed to move. Yancy slipped on an angled stone and yelped. Leroy and Dominic helped him up. Next to him they saw a break in the ridge that led up and out. They took it, climbing steadily and with grunting purpose. When they reached flatland again, they reconnoitred. The sun was now obscured save for a bright transluscence like a flame in the fog. Dominic noticed the bushes of buds with the luminosity inside that they'd run into before. They were in Nathan's territory. Their antennae registered a definite barometric shift in the air; they needed to hurry. Rounding a towering boulder they were immediately embraced by a distinctive aroma directly ahead--Nathan's unmistakable tea. As before, they followed their noses and were relieved to see his estate not far, just as the first drops made their presence known by the flopping sounds on leaves and ground around them.

Charging up the incline, breathing hard, they entered his darkened foyer under the body of the berry bush and dropped their packs. The rain thudded. The dank coolness made it easier to breathe and cleared their heads; the muggy air was left at the entrance. Another flash of lightning and a drum role of thunder off towards the mountain illuminated Nathan sitting in his outdoor living room. Next to him was an extravagant creature. A little taller than Leroy, her enormous wings were moon white with intricately arrayed pale yellow shapes of varying sizes stretching out to an invisible thinness. The underside was the faint color of fall leaves with lines of darker brown and yellow. She tucked them neatly behind and above her as they approached. On the table before them sat a pot of tea and five cups.

"My friends," Nathan said, "please, come in, you just made it in time. A sanctuary from the storm." Grateful for the warm welcome, they approached. He gestured to the side where three straw chairs stood. They each grabbed the one they'd used before and placed them in front of the table. "May I introduce my friend, Nalina. She's recently returned from down south where she winters."

She nodded politely. He then introduced them to her. Dominic couldn't help but stare. He'd seen lots of creatures like her in his lifetime, but never so up close. His tiredness left him as his senses sharpened to a fine point. Besides being beautiful to look at, she filled his mind with wonder and a pang of envy. To fly over vast distances, soaring on the warm updrafts and as high as the tallest tree. What a view that must be. He tried to calculate how long it would take them to reach their destination if they could do that. He tried, but his mind was elsewhere.

"What brings you here," Nathan asked warmly, "is this a social call?"

Leroy and Yancy, by dint of habit if nothing else, deferred to Dominic to do the talking, but it seemed he was having trouble finding his voice. So Leroy spoke up, "We're heading west above the tree line to see what's there. We have a feeling it's different from here. We want to check it out."

"Hmmm," Nathan began, "I lived near the forest and explored its interior, but never as far as the upper edge. I don't know. Perhaps it is."

A soft quiet passed as everyone got comfortable with the sudden arrival. A few light-stones hung overhead and on the walls lent a comfortable and homey ambience. The muffled patter of rain made it all the more cozy. Smiling, Leroy asked, a twinkle in his eye, "I see you have three extra cups, were you expecting company?"

"Why yes," he laughed. "You. Help yourselves, it's freshly made."

"You knew we were coming?" Leroy asked, wonder and surprise in his voice, as he half-filled all three.

"Well, not exactly. I could feel a wave of energy focused in this direction. And I could see a future event, a resonance of proximity sharing the time stream with my own, to be more precise, involving three people I'd met before. You said you'd return, but I didn't think so soon. I'm glad for your company. Now, tell me what your intentions are, and," he looked over at Dominic, "why."

Dominic reached for his cup, took a sip, shook his head from side to side, then carefully placed it back on the table. "We don't wish to intrude on your visit with Nalina. It can wait."

"No, by no means," her voice as pleasing as the morning sun. "Nathan wasn't expecting me either," she said sarcastically and laughed. A melodious sound as light as she. "I'd love to hear what you have to say. I'm guessing you're here for a reason, not just idle conversation. Go on, please. Nathan and I were just chatting up old times."

"Nalina's a bit of a seer herself," he said, feigning a glare in her direction. "Very perceptive. Now, Dominic, what say you?"

Eager to discuss it, he started right in. "Very well. It involves a dream I've had. I mean, I've had lots of dreams in my life like everybody else, but this one struck me as a different kind."

"What do you mean--kind."

"I wasn't actually in it. I was a witness to a fantastic event from a point of view I've only ever imagined. And what I was seeing I had nothing in real life to compare. I don't know where it was coming from. Yet, it all seemed perfectly real, like it was really happening."

"Well," said Nathan topping off Nalina's cup and gesturing to the others to do the same, "tell me, don't leave anything out. You never know what tiny bit of information might prove most significant."

Dominic proceeded to describe the catastrophe, the volcano belching fiery rocks, the forest and meadow burning, flames roaring, and hot flakes of ash covering it all to a great depth. Every living thing died, either directly or from starvation and thirst. The chaos and panic, the fruit trees engulfed in flame, the fear and desperation. Nathan stood to pace, a grave look to his brow as Dom described his dream and the reason for their expedition. When he finished, Nathan was standing behind his chair, his large hands gripping the back, staring at Dominic. His emotions shifted from a surprised alarm to an unsettling curiosity and wonder. He appraised him as though seeing him for the first time. When they met he saw him as an unfulfilled dreamer. An adventurer at heart and so was not surprised at their reason for being here. But now, he saw him as a prophet, or at the very least, a visonary. Someone to whom a premonition and a willful desire have coalesced. But why him? he asked himself. But he knew why, of course.

Nalina's face was contorted in horror and concern. "Nathan," she said, "could that be true? Have you seen it? Or is it merely a dream, nothing more?"

"Yes," he finally answered. "I've seen it." He slumped around to his chair, a heavy load on his shoulders. "My parents knew of this event. They are master practitioners. They created a ritual to pass the sight onto me." He paused, staring at his cup on the table, then looked Dominic in the eyes. "It is to be as you have dreamed, Dominic."

Shock waves coursed through the lead scout. Stunned, he couldn't understand how his own personal dream could be a premonition of what was actually to occur. "Well then," trying to stay above the maelstrom of confusion. Accepting it as true for the time being and only that in order to get a handle on it, he asked, "If that's the case, why are you here? What of your friends? Your community? Have you told them?"

"When is this to be?" Nalina interrupted, her voice not as pleasing as before. "You said your parents told you of this. Many years ago, I presume. Well before you came here. Did they say when? If they saw this catastrophe long ago, it must be soon to happen. And why have you kept it secret all this time? Nathan?"

He leaned forward for his cup and sipped, then held it in his hands. "It is why I traveled as much as I did throughout this meadow, met many and made friends. It's beautiful and wondrous with constant surprises, strange, exotic plant life everywhere you look. To think of it destroyed was heartbreaking. I told no one of the calamity to come because I believed I could prevent it, or rather, that it was preventable."

He stood to pace. "Time is not something that moves; it is we who move, our minds. For reasons unknown, there are those who possess the gift, the talent, and the skills necessary to travel alternate timelines. And there are events that stand out amidst the ordinary, natural flow. Disturbances so great they establish the ending of a history, a break in that line. The event Dominic speaks of and what my parents showed me is one such. But the way we measure the passage of time by the cycle of the seasons is unlike where it comes from, its original nature. It is spread out in all directions at once, so there is no way to gauge time's passage in the sense we know. So there is no method that can determine when, exactly, something seen will occur. Only that it will."

"That doesn't answer my question, Nathan," she said, annoyance mixed with disbelief in her tone. "Why have you kept this to yourself? Don't you care about these people, your friends?"

"Because there is a catch," he replied. "My parents saw a parallel event. They saw a splitting away from the inevitable. A continuation of nature's order and the life of the meadow."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, now more confused than ever. He was sounding a little crazy to her. She didn't want that, she wanted him to be the old sensible Nathan, a constant in a fickle world.

He hesitated, trying to find the right words. "When they--master seers like my parents--begin to gather a vision of the future, they focus on critical markers, characteristics, features, necessary and significant objects, essential factors of identity, that the rest, the connecting fibers of the event itself, hang on, like a pattern of raindrops on a pond at various distances from one another. The ripples interfere as they spread out, defining the event. The drops are the sources, the markers of the timeline, without them, the event cannot happen. If any are missing or more are added, the timeline will be uniquely different, a different reality and outcome."

He returned to his chair and put the cup on the table. "They saw two timelines for this meadow and mountain. An important marker was missing from one, the one that contained the catastrophe. For the other, life went on uninterrupted as it's been for cycle after cycle." He paused, a smile slowly forming and said, "You, my friend, are the marker. Or should I say, the instrument of its creation. That is how it was described to me." Dominic, surprised and abashed, stared at his two friends; they stared back.

"I travelled all over looking for that one, for some tiny indication. I was told he would be drawn to me, drawn to the dreamstate, a realm that knows not distance or time, only meaning." He looked fondly at Dominic. "I can see now it was not an accident, our first encounter. In their life-saving timeline there is contained a prophesy evoked from the guardians of that realm: a particular person to whom the debacle revealed itself will undertake a quest to the land where the tree line meets the snow. There he will find salvation."

He looked off into the distance. His tone changed to that of a teacher, he began, "Each timeline has a unique identity at the root of all materiality from which it stems. It defines it. This identity can be found in the way crystals in certain rocks form and the powers they have. Rocks like the ones you saw on my shelves in the bedroom. I have others you didn't see, a large collection. The one my parents gave me with the identity of the timeline free of devastation is in a special place. Let me explain."

He sipped more tea to wet his whistle, warming to his exposition. "Parallel patterns of existence emerge from the unconscious mind and are expressed as different interactions between similar elements of the whole. When my parents transited, they materialized on another plane of existence, one free of destruction, and were able to sense and move about at will. They procured samples of various rocks and colored stones. These, necessarily, are stamped with that timeline's identity--the history of that world. The timeline markers stood out to my parents, especially my mother. Comparing them to the plane of destruction they sensed an emptiness, a marker missing that if included would alter the timeline, the pattern rearranged, to the one free of death. She knew what that world design had to be and where the missing marker was. They were drawn to it in a meadow above the trees where a pile of rocks stands out, a constant that appears in both timelines. I've never seen it, but they have, they've been there, to examine it and seek its nature. From it, they crafted a stone with facets arranged at select angles, making it susceptible and receptive to mental integration--magic.

"When placed on top of the pile of rocks in our world, the mind-spell imbued within will permeate its inner nature and alter its effects. The fields of energy emanating from them will change to match those of the devastation-free plane. But in the one that is destroyed, it doesn't have any significance, it is simply a huge boulder that has, with time's passage, broken into smaller ones. But in the life-saving timeline, it makes all the difference. In that one it is a vessel and a conduit for the fundamental unconscious identity of that world. The new ripples and interference patterns will radiate out on the mind level of reality and alter the pattern of the whole. And our timeline will shift to the new timeline."

These ideas and terms were arcane to Dominic, exclusive to a community of seers and practitioners. But he believed he got the gist of it. "If that's the case, all details aside, why can't you or anyone, for that matter, place this magical stone on the rocks? What's the difference?"

"I did volunteer to place the charm on the pile of rocks, but I have transited to other planes of existence, so I've lost the uniqueness of only this world. But it didn't matter. It has to be someone to whom the vision of the future has revealed itself. It's how the unconscious mind works. I know of the devastation to come through other means, shared visions with my family. It is they who saw it while in communion with the earth. For the split to occur, the one chosen by the spirit of the meadow must perform the ritual. Its essence joins with, twines with, a single soul of the right time and place. Like how a leaf shares in the lifeforce of the tree from which it grows."

His eyes looked inward. What he had to say took on a more reverent tone. "The spirit of the land made it known through my people, my clan, that it did not want to end. It knows for all time where it's been and where it's going and what will happen along the way. Comparatively, our time is very brief, but a tiny fragment of the land's. It calls out what will happen in images. It brings to light its cry from deep within through those whose spirit seeks life at its heart. It speaks to that person. It knew it was seeing its own demise, the end of its way of life. And although it knows that too is nature's way, its fierce vibrancy does not want that ending. It rebelled as would a living thing.

"The meadow that lies above the tree line is not vast." He looked off as though envisioning it. "Near its center lies a pile of large rocks, boulders really. My people devised a transition spell to enter the other timeline and retrieve a shard of the stone from the very top that would give meaning to the pile, modify it into a marker. They knew how to shape it, how to apply subtle pressures across its surface and to rearrange its inner angles with potions made of special ingredients in order to express the fields of energy peculiar to that timeline." He paused, tired of exposition and got right to the point. He opened himself up to Dominic as one would a friend and said forcefully, "You must climb to the top." His sudden burst of assertion almost intimidated Dominic. He was being told what his mission was. He listened.

"I've visited that plane and know it to exist as a possibility only, a potential reality. You've never seen it, experienced its differences and similarities, its necessary dissonance and fortuitous harmonies. You know only what I've told you. But it's all around us as though on the other side of a thin veil, a veil that separates truths. Perhaps there are others of the meadow who share your dream of destruction or at least some portion of it, but lack the wonder of your spirit and desire to see what lies above the trees. I don't believe that's a coincidence. The spirit, the mind of nature, sought you out and so you are here. The circle can be completed, space and time shifted."

He turned to Nalina and said, "If I'd told them, my friends, most would have decided to leave, to take a chance on the long, arduous journey. Some would not have made it. And when the survivors arrived, they would have to find new homes, learn to find food and water in an alien terrain, populated already by others working out a living, while the rest down here would perish. I couldn't make that decision. I believed in the hope that I would meet the person to whom the land has spoken. That is why I held my own as well as my tongue."

To Dominic he said straightforwardly, "This is my role and why we needed to meet. My clan could not say with absolute certainty that it would happen. Unpredictability is built-in to the magical world; it's part of its nature. Probabilities exist only, we make up for the uncertainty by bringing our own mental and spiritual energies to bear and by faith and hope and the will to openness."

As if on cue, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled and rain pummeled the ground outside, muffled by the safety of Nathan's retreat. When all had calmed, Leroy asked, "Couldn't you do both? I mean, hope a savior shows up in time, but also warn your people?"

After a sigh, "I spent many a day and night agonizing over just that, my friend. It was not an easy time. I called on my spirit guides for help, but they were mute. All they could offer was to be true to my beliefs. If I told them, I would feel obligated to go with them. I know the safest and quickest way to this side of the forest where I'm from. I know several alternative routes as well. It would depend on circumstances, the weather, for instance, and the availability of food and location of watering holes. I couldn't let them travel into unknown territory, feeling their way, running into impasses, things that necessitated backtracking to go around, guided only by the sun. It would be chaotic and haphazard. An unpleasant adventure. They would need a leader who knows the terrain. But then, what of all the others? The countless others who had no idea what was coming? Sure, on the way, we would tell all we met and invite them to join us, but that would only be a tiny fraction. No, I decided to stay and hope. And, it would seem, that hope has been realized."

"That may be," Leroy interjected, a touch of anger in his tone. "But don't you think that's a lot to put on Dominic? The survival of all life in the meadow, including the meadow itself, and the forest? That's a huge responsibility. Suppose we fail? Suppose we're killed along the way? What then, master seer?"

Dominic smiled at his friend's regard and caring. And also his sense of fairness. It was a lot to ask. He did have a point. Saving the world was a lot to ask. Nonetheless, how could he refuse? Resignedly, he accepted with all due gravitas but also with a strange exhilaration. Magic of the type Nathan talked about was unknown to him. He couldn't imagine how doing something as simple as placing a stone on top of a pile of boulders was going to change the course of the future. He didn't, couldn't understand it. None of it. The whole situation of fantastic and catastrophic proportions which, according to Nathan, wasn't a dream at all but rather a premonition of what was to come. The spirit of the land had called out to him describing this event in detailed imagery. And Nathan had been told by the practitioners of his clan to search for that one being. Through luck--or supernatural orchestration--and the channels of dreamland, he attracted Dom to him and evoked the expression of his dream. And that was it. Nathan's search was over. Now it was up to Dominic to carry it off.

He was caught up in the middle of some preposterous undertaking he didn't ask for and wasn't sure he wanted. To his mind, he was an ordinary person going about an ordinary life, albeit with desires exceeding what were considered ordinary expectations.

As the rain came down and thunder receded into the distance, they discussed matters over tea. The trio was heading west as straight as possible, that was all they'd planned. It wasn't much of a plan but they'd be traveling into no-ant's land and had no idea what to expect. Nathan had a better, less reckless idea. His people lived just shy of the forest. They could consider that their first leg. In the morning, weather permitting, he would point out the landmark of the twin trees that grew next to one another. They were at the edge of the forest and the tallest in that area, easily spotted from anywhere in the meadow. That was where his family lived. He told them their names, his parents and a few of the elders, to ask of those they met if they knew them and if so, for directions. Eventually, he was certain, as they neared those trees, they would find them. He hadn't seen them for a long time but was sure they were still alive; he would know if not. Once they explained their mission and answered a million questions about how he was doing and were recognized as friends, they would be given all the help and hospitality they needed. He would give them a keepsake to show to prove who they were and that they knew him. Also, most importantly, the stone-of-change which they fashioned themselves. That, actually, was all they needed.

Dominic explained that they intitially had overestimated how long it would take to get to the edge. After some help from others better at calculating navigation, they figured that the direct route would take four, maybe five, days. Now that's going straight over flat ground under ideal weather conditions and with no problems from the locals. But that's not the case, obviously. Walking, trudging, through jungle brush would necessarily be a meandering path. Only hiking in the daytime. Taking breaks to eat and rest. Carrying heavy packs. If it rained, they'd be forced to find shelter and wait it out. So, they were thinking maybe as much as nine or ten days.

Nalina, having witnessed this momentous and terrifying revelation and the appointment of Dominic as saviour, felt to be a part of it. She therefore involved herself and offered to help. She said it would take her about two days, maybe three, depending, as was said, on the weather, flying evasively and keeping low, to reach Nathan's clan. She could contact his parents and inform them of what was transpiring. And to expect three travelers to arrive in several days with the stone-of-change, friends of Nathan's.

Our trio, especially Dominic, anguished over the time it would take her in spite of their appreciation for her help. To be able to fly, what an advantage. How wonderful. This whole affair would be so simple and be over in no time if she were the one to place the magic charm on the pile of rocks. Why hadn't the spirit of the meadow chosen someone who could fly for this task? He felt there must be a reason, but even Nathan couldn't answer it. Flying above the meadow, although it brought its own dangers, wasn't the same as hiking through it. A much more visceral experience, to be sure.

Travel plans having been almost completed, the tension in the room relaxed and the excitement of adventure took over. It turned into a bon voyage party. They drank tea and told stories. Our trio related what happened to them after they left his place last time and their encounter with the monster. Nathan and Nalina both nodded with familiarity and glanced at one another as they described its appearance. They were aware of this creature and said it was fortunate they escaped. Nathan chastised them in a fatherly way that he hoped they learned not to be so careless in the future. They all nodded solemnly and thanked him most sincerely for the charm of concealment, which they were certain had saved their lives. Nathan promised three more to take with them along with the stone-of-change. He didn't say if he thought they might need them as before, and they didn't ask.

Without their noticing, the rain had subsided to mere dripping sounds off the bush and grasses. Nathan's stories were usually humorous and Nalina had wondrous tales to tell and sights she'd seen when down south and on her journeys. She was very worldy. Dominic didn't feel the least bit jealous and the others didn't appear to either. They were too impressed and marveled at the images she conjured. If anything, they found her stories inspiring and motivating. The anxiety they worked to quell at the onset dissipated with each new description of far-flung places and close calls. She was admiraly resourceful and resilient. Could they be any less? They were experienced scouts, after all; they knew how to proceed through uncharted territory.

Dusk brought a chill with it and Nathan could see his guests were exhausted from their journey, so he declared it was time to retire. They would need their rest for the morrow's exertion. He took the tea pot and led the way. Our trio picked up their packs and followed Nalina down the hidden corridor to Nathan's copious living room. As per standing arrangement, she said her good nights and went into Nathan's bedroom to use his bed; he would sleep on the couch. Dominic, Leroy, and Yancy had the floor. They pulled out their sleeping covers while Nathan built a fire in the fireplace, stoking it to fullness to get the damp chill off. He rolled a disc of dried moss suspended from a wooden hoop over the round doorway to keep the warmth and the light inside. A spell of concealment enclosed his entire estate, as he called it, but you never know when someone might blunder in due to weather or whatever. Just because it can't be seen doesn't mean it isn't there. By the time he got the fire going good, they were all asleep.

He sat on the couch tending the fire until it was just how he liked it, looking over at the three scouts curled up on the soft dirt. An incantation drew forth his spirit guides. He inquired if they knew if the three adventurers would be successful. As before they remained mute. They could only say they would try, they were determined, and that they could see no darkness in their future. Otherwise, it was entirely up to them and the spirit of the meadow. Nathan thanked them and closed the doorway to their realm. He gave one last look to the fire, then lay down on the couch pulling a cover over him. He could do no more. His role in this was almost finished. The rain had stopped, with luck the morning will be sunny and quickly dry the land. Besides the crackling of the wood, all was silent. He moved into it and fell asleep.

Groggy, muscles stiff, Dominic opened an eye to the sound of wood grinding against stone. Nathan came around the corner from the kitchen with a small bowl; he poured its contents into a much larger bowl standing on a flat stone near the fireplace, a hole underneath had wood burning, dragged down a groove from the main fire. With a long wooden spoon, he stirred the concoction. The smell coming from it soothed Dom's nerves and loosened his muscles. He could see through the chairs three bowls sitting on the table and another at the far end. The mossy disc had been rolled away from the doorway. Leroy grumbled, Yancy yawned loudly. It was time to get up.

"Ah, you're awake," Nathan said. "Have a seat, breakfast is coming." They plopped down in their chairs rubbing their faces, Leroy still had his hat on, crumpled though it was. Nathan grabbed a bowl and ladled in some porridge, then placed it in front of Yancy. He did the same with the others. "It's a little flat, all I have to add is seasoning, spices. Later, when the berries come, I'll add those, give it a sweet flavor."

Dominic tasted it. It was bland but it gave him a tingling sensation, refreshing his tired body. Dominic stared at the the empty bowl. Nathan, sitting on the couch, bowl in lap, said, "Nalina. She's already gone. Dawn or right before, she said, was best. The birds are out but they're mainly looking for things on the ground."

They sat in silence, slurping away. Nathan left for the kitchen and returned with the pot of tea and four cups, which he placed on the table. "Help yourself," he said. Leroy finished his bowl and accepted another half. The tea revived them and sharpened their wits. They remembered the last time they walked through the jungle after drinking a few cups. It'd been most beneficial, they could keep up a good pace plus enjoy the scenery in intricate detail.

When our trio had eaten enough, Nathan went into the bedroom and returned with a small pouch. He placed it on the table in front of Dominic, sitting in the middle, and opened it. He took out three stones like the one he gave them before, charms of concealment, and asked if they remembered how to use them. Dom said he'd never forget and talked it through. "Hold over heart, say, with feeling, dark be done."

He then carefully removed a green leaf folded over. He unwrapped it to reveal the elliptical, moon-colored stone-of-change. Dom took it in his hand, it was warm to the touch and weighed next to nothing. Its curved surface flattened around the edge. And it wasn't as smooth as it appeared, there was a roughness to it, a graininess. "Won't this blow off with the first puff of wind?" he asked.

Nathan shook his head. "As soon as you place it on the rock, it will dissolve and its magical properties absorbed into the pile, transforming it. Not to worry."

Dominic wished he hadn't said that. Nathan rewrapped it, placed it in the pouch and handed it to Dominic to put away. "Ah," Nathan said, an idea popping into his head. He invited them into the bedroom that doubled as a workroom. Against the wall opposite the fireplace were two doors of flat bark behind a narrow workbench. He opened them to show off his stone- and wood-carving tools on shelves cut into the mud. Chisels of every size made of an unusually hard mineral found in deep cracks and crevices of the land and in dried-up stream bottoms. Worn cedar and fruit-tree bark for rubbing stone and wood to smoothness and shaping edges and points. And hammers of stone, varying in weight.

He then went to the triangular table tucked in the corner near the fireplace. He opened the large box resting in back and pulled out a tiny pouch made of flower stems weaved together and lined with a dry apple skin. He opened it to show them the contents. Inside were three tiny, yellowish seeds. He gave one to each of them. "Put these away in a safe and accessible place," he almost whispered. "If needed, eat them, swallow them. They slow the passage of time a thousand fold. Everything around you will move slowly, but you three won't." He gave Dominic a piercing look and said slyly, "It might come in handy."

They smiled mischievously and put them in a pocket of the vests they wore to cushion the packs. That was it, Nathan thought. Now, I am finished. "The sun is shining. At least it was poking its head up when I saw Nalina off." Noticing their look of concern, he added, "I gave her charms of concealment as well. She'll be safe."

They went back out to the living room. It was time. Dominic and Yancy carefully put on their straw hats, adjusting the brim just so, Leroy straightened his. It had become a way of bringing their concentration to bear. An act of self. The tea helped in that regard, intensifying the moment. They hefted their packs onto their shoulders and stood facing Nathan as though at attention and conveying respect and appreciation and friendship.

They were about to turn to leave when Nathan said, "Oh, wait." He ran into the kitchen and returned with a bundle of fresh tea leaves. "Here, you don't want to forget this." He stuffed it into Yancy's pack. "It's tea. Take a leaf and chew on it occasionally when you can't stop to make any."

"I was going to ask for some, but...," Yancy said.

"I know, son. I'm a seer, remember?" He stepped back to take them all in. "May the spirit of the meadow guide you."

He led them outside and pointed to the twin trees off to the right, the tallest of any around them, an unmistakable landmark from any perspective. He went back into his outdoor living room and stood by his chair. They took in their surroundings and prepared to leave. When they turned to wave, Nathan was gone. They stepped out into the morning sun, the ground soaked in the downpour was already drying, but the grasses were still wet. With the heat they could already feel, they wouldn't be for long. Leroy took lead, Dominic next, and Yancy covered the rear. Scouts, heading into the unknown to do the unthinkable in a world that had taken on new and unexpected meaning. All because of a dream.

Morning tea having its effect, they easily avoided sticks, pebbles, stems of wildflowers and blades of grass. Sidestepping impediments, climbing over rocks, dodging wet overhangs, and cruising through narrow passageways without so much as brushing their gear or disturbing their hats. They were making good time and talked incessantly. About Nalina, Nathan, his home, his hospitality, the magic world, and the life-saving importance of meeting him, accidentally or not. How is that possible? Explain? No one could. Perhaps it was unknowable. Something beyond thought. They were surprised at how they were discussing it, aware that Nathan and the whole enterprise was altering the way they saw things. Life. Reality. The Oneness of all living things. And now the responsibility for that to continue as it has was in their hands.

They talked about their surroundings, pointing out oddities and unusual plants, twig and mud sculptures, the sky, the shade of blue, how it subtly changed with time, the twin trees, the snow-covered mountain, and laughed at things they ordinarily wouldn't find very amusing. They decided when their energy dipped, they'd chew on a leaf. This was a one-shot deal for better or worse, might as well make the most of it.

They climbed a gravelly hill that rose above the tops of the early-spring grass and took another bearing. The twin trees didn't look all that much closer but they knew they had to be, the sun was midway up. They scanned for the cleanest route and picked out closer landmarks to guide them, budding fruit trees and large boulders that could be seen from the ground. Concentrating together, they locked their antennae in the direction of the twin trees. The sun's angle with that trajectory would be close to overhead most of the way. Deciding to take a break, they unshouldered their packs where they were. They could see clear at some distance, it was a good spot.

They broke out their rations, sugar mash mixed with dried blackberry juice, and recalled Nathan's porridge with appreciation. Their canteens were half empty, talking made them thirsty. After yesterday's downpour, they were bound to find watering holes soon. They may even have passed some but didn't notice. They needed to get more professional about what they were doing. Things could get rough. They decided that except for warnings or the occasional commentary as they went, they could cut down on the chatter, they were all talked out anyway.

As they sat, resting, they watched a hawk high in the sky circling casually, not flapping its curving wings at all. It did so several times and then moved off with a few flaps to another area of the meadow and began searching again. Every creature, big and small, that could fly was out exercising their wings. It was a lazy spring morning, they enjoyed it. Here and there, deer grazed while fawns gamboled about. How peaceful, thought Dominic. To imagine it all being destroyed in a violent conflagration was too much to contemplate. The weight of his responsibility pressed down on him. He needed to get more serious about the whole thing, they weren't out on a pleasure trip. Abruptly, he stood and stared off. "You see that tree?" he pointed. They nodded. "I think we can make it there before dark. Set up camp beneath it if it looks safe or up in the first clef." He proceeded to shoulder his pack in a couple of quick motions. "The sun ain't slowin' down." Leroy and Yancy hopped to it. They slogged down the hill to the grassy ground, each munching on half a leaf, and headed into the dense jungle.

They took breaks every couple of hours and by the time they reached the fruit tree the sun was kissing the top of the mountain. The pink and white flowers against the golden sun were glorious to behold. In the shade was a pool of water. They replenished their near-empty canteens and splashed their faces. Leroy, after removing his hat, of course, went over to the other side of the wide pool and dunked his head, then sat back and said, "We made it."

They considered actually starting a fire and cooking up some crushed bindleberry seed, but exhaustion had its way. Sleep was on the menu. They ate a handful of mash and after checking out the base of the tree for a campsite and finding the sodden ground undesirable decided instead to climb to the crook of the first branch and camp there. Not quite dusk, they could already hear strange, unfamiliar noises. Leroy climbed first and using a long strand of twisted twine pulled the packs up. Then Dominic and Yancy held on for the assist. They spread their mats of dried moss on the flat bark and lay down, pulling their sleeping covers over them. The sun had dropped like a rock, but not before displaying a brilliant red, yellow, and orange sky. Stars began to poke out, and along with them the sounds of clicks, shrills, croaks, and movement through the grass. Night fliers dashed about, intent on going somewhere. More stars.

Yancy said, "I remember the first time I saw stars. I got caught in the rain my second or third time out and hid under a broad leaf near the trunk of a tree. The rain stopped but it was nightfall, so I decided to stay put. The clouds parted and broke up and I saw stars. For the very first time. Lots of them. I heard others speak of them but.... This is what I was looking forward to, camping out under the night sky. Just look at them all." They were indeed plentiful and their brilliance intensified with the deepening darkness. They decided that in the morning they'd make some seed gruel and a pot of tea. Take their time but be ready to hit the trail when the sun presented its colorful morning show.

They wondered about Nalina, if she'd made it yet and how she was doing. They figured another day, maybe two. Nathan's clan would be expecting them. They imagined how they would be received, laughing at absurd scenarios, and what kind of person Nathan's mother must be like, his parents. To be able to create a spell that can shift the timeline of the world into a completely different direction. Very powerful indeed. How incredible. And not just anyone's timeline, the timeline of the spirit of the meadow channeling itself through Dominic. It and the stone-of-change and the pile of rocks must all come together at once. Then the transformation will supposedly take place, or begin to. None understood how it worked. What mechanics were involved, what agency.

They were ants, they didn't know about magic, they dealt in mechanical forces, the clever use of surroundings to achieve desired ends, innovation. But, they needed to remind themselves, they also dealt in the power and efficacy of the group mind. How separate individual selves can come together and bond into a single organism. Without surrender of individuality, they knew that the one mind cannot emerge, an emergence with a purpose, an identity. Perhaps that's the same thing, they thought. Perhaps. The air was warm and balmy; tomorrow would be hotter. They lay there, grateful for the day and for being alive, savoring the sweet fragrances of wildflowers and fruit trees, and listening to the sounds of the night. Before long, they were fast asleep.

The next two days went by smoothly. They ran into others, ants in particular, who, on seeing their packs, couldn't help but ask questions. Large lumbering loners, however, passed them by, ignoring them, plodding into the bush. They stopped briefly on occasion to talk to those sitting in front of their homes, engaged in conversation, enjoying the air, watching the young at play. Some waved and smiled and wished them well as they went by. Fliers landing on leaves, flower petals, and rocks wanted to know what they were about and a few who just stared, then flew away. Their story was that they were on a camping trip to the upper forest region and would return before the weather chilled. They met diverse groups, whole communities, folks of every background and lifestyle. Most were friendly and just plain curious, some kept their distance and merely observed, but no one was hostile or antagonisitc. Meadow life. Easy going. Open. Birds and spiders were a constant threat however; it was the way it was. Fatalism was the dominant philosophy.

The next two nights they repeated the drill, sleeping in a tree. There was just too much traffic at ground level and some they hadn't seen before. The night crowd was understandably more circumspect and suspicious, which often can make one dangerous. And it didn't take much to recall the monster. They'd gotten into a pace and their sense of urgency had given way to the realities and limitations of their endeavor. They could only walk so fast through rough wilderness, especially carrying heavy packs; they'd get there when they got there. Besides, despite the ultimate seriousness of their mission and the apparent consequences of failure, they were into the experience itself. Nathan's tea leaves were somewhat inspiring in that regard. Delighting in the plants and creatures they encountered fueled their resolve. The thought of it all gone, destroyed, everyone and thing dead, strengthened their determination not to let than happen. Maybe that's why it was imperative, or at least preferable, that a ground dweller be chosen. Someone more attuned with the land. But they also were aware that they'd intended to travel there anyway. It was more or less a coincidence, or was it? In any event, they appreciated every new and novel thing along the road, the strange and unusual just kept coming. They were well out of their home range and anticipated even more bizarre firsts as they went. They were not disappointed.

Late in the afternoon of the fourth day, they were filling their canteens at a small pool, which were becoming fewer and farther between, under a shady bush when they heard the rush and then felt the force of powerful wings. Three beetles landed right in front of them. They were half again as large as Nathan and had a rugged, gritty look to them. Quite unlike his refined demeanor and friendly smile, these guys looked like they hardly ever smiled. They had backs of turquoise striped with dark green that glittered in the sun, bordered by a narrow band of rich black, so black the surface was undefinable. Unsure what to do, Dom reached into a pouch for a concealment stone.

"Wait," the one in the middle said. "I know what you're about to do, it's not necessary. We've been sent by Nathan's clan to come find you and bring you in. You're a little more than half way from Nathan's. The rest is on us, literally." His melodious voice belied his appearance. The tension went out of the air.

"Nathan's clan?" Dom queried. "His family?"

"Yes. Your friend, Nalina, showed up yesterday, or the day before, I forget now. Time is a problem with me." The others nodded and sighed, their eyebrows raised. "Anyway, we were chosen to find you and bring you in. Unless, of course, you'd rather walk the rest of the way. Surely, you must've had your fill of the jungle by now. There's lots to see, though. It's quite stunning this time of year, don't you think? But, you might appreciate the view from above too. You might find it rather, what's the word, thrilling, in fact."

"From above?" they gasped in unison. Eyes wide, Dom asked, "And how would we do that?"

The beetles flattened themselves on the ground and the one who'd been doing the talking said, "Climb on. Hunker down in the middle and dig in if you like, we can't feel it. And grab hold of the tuft of hair at the base of my neck."

Dom pulled a leaf of tea from his vest pocket, showed it to the others and bit off a piece. They did the same. He adjusted the straps of his backpack and, as he climbed onto the talker's broad, hard, iridescent back, asked, "How did you find us?"

"Are you kidding?" he laughed. "It wasn't too difficult. You radiate magic in all directions, like a flame in the mist. Now, all of you, hold on."

They dug in and closed their eyes at first while the massive beetles flapped airborne and banked sharply towards the twin trees. Several feet above the tallest grass and wildflowers, our three intrepid adventurers--on a mission to save the world--were completely awed by the scope of their surroundings. The extent and diversity of the meadow could simply not be appreciated from ground level. True, their evening campsite in a tree at the joint where a branch jutted out did give them a wondrous panoramic view, but the exhilaration they felt cruising over it, changing perspective moment to moment, and just the excitement of flying itself, lifted their tired spirits to heights none could've imagined.

Leaving his stomach behind, plunging through clusters of multi-colored flowers and clouds of fragrances, disturbing ornate butterflies and zooming past preoccupied bees hastily flitting from one flower to the next, Dominic's dream ride had come true. Fluttering almost to a stop to avoid a collision with an oblivious bumblebee, then hurtling down into the thick of it at breakneck speed, he felt the wind trying to pry him off and saw stems of wildflowers, bushes, and blades of grass blur past in a greenish swish. He held on tight and wanted to scream for pure joy. Gliding, diving, swooping down like a bird of prey, it was another world. But in spite of its grandeur, he felt a twinge of sentiment for those they met and spoke to on the ground who offered friendliness and encouragement, not to mention food and water. They would not forget who they were doing this for.

Immersed in the dense brush, he couldn't believe how fast they could fly and not hit anything. What skill, he thought. How amazing. Abruptly they broke out into a clearing over a huge pond of cattails and lilly pads. On either side was Leroy and Yancy only a few feet away, their straw hats on the verge of pulling through their antennae as they smiled at one another from ear to ear. Then with a deafening whoosh they were back into the fray, deftly avoiding other fliers who blithely took no notice. Cruising, sheering, banking, soaring, lost to time's passage, they rose suddenly into a clear space far above the tallest grasses, the air surprisingly cool and crisp. They slowed to a glide, sailing along, wings outstretched, immobile. Lifting his head, Dominic could see the twin trees looming before him. But they stood not beside one another as they appeared from afar. One grew in the meadow and the other some distance into the woods.

Nearing the meadow tree, they circled over a large prickly bush covered in clusters of tiny pink flowers. Surrounding it were smaller bushes of the same kind. Paths joined them, meandering along the contours, conflating here and there at circles of flat stones, their arrangements clearly purposeful. The three beetles with their cargo spiraled down. Someone on the ground looked up and waved, then quickly walked towards the bush and disappeared under it.

Landing at its base, the three carriers crouched down. "How was that?" the one with Dom asked casually, friendly sarcasm in his tone. He could guess how it must've been and laughed. Dominic gingerly slid to the ground, his head in a bit of a daze, not completely sure of his balance. He let his pack peel off his shoulders, faced his transport and, unable to contain his exuberance, gushed, "That was terrific. Wonderful. You are an incredible flier. Thank you."

Letting his pack fall where it may, Leroy disembarked like he'd been doing it all his life. Yancy crawled breathlessly to the side, dropped to the ground and exclaimed, "That was wild. Absolutely, positively wild." He shook off his pack. "Did you see the look on that bumblebee's face?"

Leroy laughed. "Nobody will ever believe him."

The sun had coursed the sky and now cast them in shadow. Considerably higher up the slope of Mount Cowabunga than their usual stomping grounds, as the adrenaline rush waned, our three flying scouts felt the chill. Voices drew their attention. A group approached from the bush, two were in front. One wore brown fur buckled at the neck by a round, blue-green amulet. The others wore varying mixes of coverings, none of which conveyed any significance, except that they were warm. They were surprised to see members of their tribe amongst the assemblage. Dominic found it curious and coincidental. Were there other colonies like his? How naive, he thought, to imagine mine as the only one. And here's another link he suspected fit in somewhere.

The one wearing the cape was about Dominic's height and very old. She smiled and said, "I am Nathan's mother, Miriana, and this is his father, Saimac." The quiet old one beside her, not much taller, wearing a black cloak, a fiber of some kind holding it together at the neck, smiled and considered them with polite respect.

Dominic walked towards her, introduced them, and presented her with a pouch he removed from a pocket inside his vest. He opened it and handed it to her. She smiled at the stone-of-change, then closed it huriedly and handed it back. "Put this away and come inside. All of you. I'm sure you need rest and sustenance after traveling with these ruffians." She looked at each in turn, standing just beyond the shadows, a stern fondness in her eyes, then said, "Off you go now, and stay out of trouble."

They laughed as they whirled effortlessly away from the group into the twilight. After watching them a bit, and not wishing to keep Miriana waiting, our trio collected their packs and followed her and her entourage towards the bush.

Her spacious main room was occupied with straw and soft bark couches and chairs, tables of various shapes were strategically placed. Two fireplaces, one at either end, burned with a mild intensity, keeping the evening coolness at bay. They laid their packs against the wall next to the doorway and dropped their hats on top. The way the lights in the ceiling and walls reflected off the stone tables created natural separations of shadow. To Dominic the arrangements appeared haphazard, but something told him there was an order to it beyond his appreciation. Furthermore, he realized with a start that his thoughts about his immediate surroundings weren't familiar. That is to say, he perceived his circumstances in terms new to him. And, surprisingly, for unknown reasons, he understood them. It was like taking the color red and breaking it up into a million shades with each having its own distinct meaning. He was still energized from his trip and what remained of the effects from the tea, but he believed something else was afoot, something about the atmosphere affected his mind causing it to be intimately entwined with the physical. By the look of his two comrades, they appeared to be experiencing the same thing.

She removed her cape and draped it over the back of a chair as she proceeded into the kitchen accompanied by a few others. Instructions could be overheard and soon she emerged. "Please, sit here." She walked to a large circular table near the fireplace furthest from the doorway, which now was covered by a thick brown curtain hanging from a wooden rod pulled across it. Tea, cups, and a tray of something brown and cake-like was brought. Activity in the kitchen continued with muffled sounds and pleasant commentary. A feast was being prepared. The pungent aromas stirred the stomachs of our three travelers. Tea was poured by a young member of their tribe who couldn't stop smiling at Yancy. When finished, she scurried away giggling.

"Your friend, Nalina, didn't stay long," Miriana said, "she was worried about Nathan. Her feeling was he seemed troubled. So she spent the night and left early this morning." She asked about how Nathan and they met, what drew them together. He told her of their wandering scouting technique and their sudden encounter with the smell of his tea." She smiled and said, "Yes, Nathan is fond of his tea." They followed it and it led to him. To him and a friend named Malcom.

"Oh, Malcom," she said, delight in her voice. "So talented and an amazing story teller. I don't know if he makes them all up; Nathan says he can't tell either. That whole community of folks he knows. We've visited a few times, but unfortunately it's been a few seasons now since last we were together." She ended on a sad note; Dominic sought to revive her. "He speaks very highly of you. Of both his parents and the clan. We are very honored to meet you." She couldn't help but smile at what he was trying to do. As food was beginning to arrive, not only at their table but a few of the others as well, she asked him to come with her, she wanted to show him something.

They went into a back room that was old workbenches and tools and bizarre designs inscribed in sheets of inner bark hanging on the walls. It smelled of damp stone and dry wood shavings and was well lit. No shadows here. In the far corner sat a tall cabinet with many small doors. She opened the one at the bottom and took out a cubic sculpture made of greenish rock not much larger than her palm. She explained that it was the first one Nathan ever made, when he was quite young. With the proper incantation, it can transform into a sphere of many points enabling the user to see the space he's in from multiple angles by touching a particular point. "Quite ingenious really, for his age. But it will only work for Nathan, it's tuned to his resonance."

Dominic was completely overwhelmed, it seemed a cumulative effect. A crescendo of one unique, offbeat event after another eventually tipping over a threshold. The more he found out about Nathan and this world, the more he realized how little he knew and how much there was to discover. And to think he was right in the middle of it now and what his responsibility was brought it home that he shared in this in his own humble way. The stone-of-change was atuned to his resonance without any prior contact because it was atuned to the spirit of the meadow which he embodied. So, it would work for him and no other. But what of an incantation?

He asked her about it. Was he to say something when he topped the rock pile with the magic stone?

"Yes," she replied. "I was going to tell you tomorrow before you left but now's as good a time as any. You place the stone on top of the pile and say your name. You say, I am Dominic and I am the spirit of the meadow. Together we move into a new life." He repeated it, twice, mimicking her cadence and emphasis. She nodded approval.

"But Nathan didn't tell me about any incantation. Would it have worked anyway?"

"He didn't know it. He told you to come here and showed you the way. That was enough. An incantation is not only a series of sounds, it is the mental attitude of the spirit of the individual who speaks it. And for that to be correct, for that to make it work, the individual must be known by the creator of the embodiment of the charm. I see you, Dominic."

A friend appeared at the doorway and said, "Miriana. Time to eat. We are ready. Guests are arriving." She thanked him, put Nathan's toy back in the cabinet, and she and Dom joined the party. He believed he was beginning to understand this magic world. But not being magic by nature, he doubted he would ultimately grasp it. It was a plane of existence, as Nathan might say, that he would never fully know, most likely. Nonetheless, with the aid of his comrades, he was determined to follow through on his promise. He knew what was at stake. He believed in them, these strange beings, and what they could do, and that was enough. One thing he did remember that distinguished him from a magical being, though, was that he didn't volunteer for this, he was chosen.

The tables were almost full and more folks were arriving by the minute. They first introduced themselves to the guests of honor: Dominic, Leroy, and Yancy, then proceeded into the sizable room looking for friends and a place to sit. The smells were enticing and none stood out as resistible. The couches and chairs soon filled up with plates on laps. Conversation was brisk, loud, and continuous; excitement was in the air. Our three travelers had never seen food like this. The different colors, tastes, and textures. How delicious and satisfying. More food than they'd eaten for some time and much improved from their daily ration of sugar meal with dried blackberry juice mixed in.

They got to know one another through the meal; it seemed designed to induce that effect. Dessert was a white, creamy, thick concoction with just a hint of sweetness. Yancy was given a second bowl by his adoring young fan. Folks were up and about, tea cups in hand, seeking others to talk to, sitting wherever there was an empty seat, small groups standing together and chatting. Gradually, as the evening wore on, the crowd thinned. A few stopped by on their way out to wish Dominic luck and may the spirit of the world be with all of them. Those who had consumed a little too much of the special brand of tea were accompanied by others who hadn't. It was night, the air had an edge to it. It was full-blown spring over the meadow, but up here a touch of winter held on, especially at night.

All that remained was a volunteer crew cleaning up and Miriana, Saimac, and our trio sitting near the fireplace, freshly replenished and giving off a comfortable heat. Miriana informed them that her guides and those of the elder practitioners believe it best if they were to travel through the forest on foot. "The spirit of the meadow would then twine with that of the woods," she said softly, "intensifying the identity of the land together. The forest and all its creatures, after all, are part of this too, and they must unite through the body, the physical, the densest medium of consciousness. It is how the land knows itself, through us."

She talked them into it, even though it wouldn't have taken much in their current mood, but flying up there and getting it over with was a much better idea as far as they were concerned. But, she explained, they wanted to make sure. Now was not the time to treat the matter lightly, to take it for granted, to take shortcuts, to not be thorough.

It was late, they were exhausted. They said their good-nights to Saimac; Miriana showed them into a sizable bedroom off the workroom. It contained several beds of soft, thick moss. She smiled as she explained that sometimes after a dinner, when much tea was consumed or because of the weather, some guests were unable to go home. "Choose anyone you like. I'll see you on the morrow." She pulled the curtain across the doorway leaving but two stones at either end for light. They were full and satiated and jokingly wished they could just stay there for a couple more days. But they saw the crowd that'd come to meet them and wish them luck and to honor them for what they were attempting. It was everything, life or death. One leg of their journey done, they were almost there and wanted to get it over with. Perhaps on the return trip. If they were successful, there'd be something to celebrate then.

They discussed it as they lay in adjacent bunks. How long it would take, what problems they might run into in the woods that were different, and most importantly, did they have enough time? Having consumed more food and in such variety than they'd eaten for eternity, much improved from their daily ration of sugar mash mixed with dried blackberry juice, and, of course, let's not forget the tea, they soon fell asleep.

Dominic dreamed a voice called to him from the mountain. He was having trouble walking, grass and leaves and thick black dirt clung to him. One step at a time, dragging it all along, hearing the voice but unable to make out the words. He collapsed on the ground, immobile, paralyzed. He was all alone. Finally, he understood some of what the mountain was saying, "You must hurry. I cannot forestall the inevitable much longer." Then he felt the ground rumble.

He woke with a start and sat up, trying to get the dream out of his head. The yellowish light was dim, bright red embers burned in the firepit in the center of the room. The air was cool, sweat covered his forehead and back. He looked up through the smoke hole where the fire vented and saw a few stars against the blackest of skies. Wrapped in a blanket of woven reeds, he quietly made his way to the outside and walked beyond the edge of the bush. The stars were plentiful and the moon, almost full. He pulled the blanket tighter and thought about all the creatures in the land who were seeing the same sky. Staring at the stars strewn across the blackness and thinking about what it all meant, who they were, why they were here doing what they were doing. And what they'd do tomorrow and the next day and the next year.

Then he remembered the dream. Was the spirit of the mountain warning him or was it just the fears and anxieties working themselves out? He felt himself now to be a conduit of some kind. That it was not uncommon to be spoken to directly by beings from the spirit realm, beings whose manifestation he and all the others lived in and called home. A chill broke his revery; fatigue made it feel almost painful. He turned and hurried in, and while his companions slept, stoked the fire with a few pieces of wood, poking the embers to flame. When satisfied, he crawled back into bed, pulled the blanket over him and hoped to dream of something more pleasant, like reaching the pile of rocks and having this whole thing over with. Soon, his energy drained completely, he fell asleep.

The following morning when they awoke they weren't quite as stiff as they'd been. Either they were getting used to it, in shape, or they had ascended to a whole other level of experience where mere physical discomfort had little meaning. There was a knock on the outside wall calling them to breakfast. They sat at last night's table, the fire low and simmering, wrapping them in a warm embrace. Three bowls of something very familiar in appearance were laid out. Indeed, it tasted like Nathan's porridge, including the odd ingredients; they could feel their energy reviving with each spoonful.

Miriana discussed their journey. She calculated that it would probably take two days to reach the upper meadow from the lower edge of the woods. They countered that looking at the swath of trees they could see from the middle of the meadow would indicate at least twice that long. She pointed out that the terrain was completely different from what they were used to. The ground is mostly hard dirt, no jungle to crash through, and the canopy is thick, so except for those spots open to the sun, it would not be beating down to tire you as easily. They could see far and wide as well, which was good; the horizon would then be in view most of the time, as far as it went, so you can take the most direct path and also spot creatures lurking about that you hadn't seen before. It was best to stay away from those you didn't know in the forest. "They're not as friendly as meadow folk," she said wistfully, "I don't know why that is."

They drank tea after filling themselves with the thick gruel and were ready to depart. Our trio plus Miriana and Saimac went outside. Standing just beyond the edge of the bush were the three ruffians. Miriana explained, "I asked my three nephews to escort you to the forest edge. Once there, head due west." They hefted their packs, now refreshed with leftovers and full canteens, straightened their hats just right, thanked them for everything and, after a caring pause, signed good-bye. It was a very quiet ceremony, there was nothing left to be said. Dominic went to turn towards their rides when Miriana grabbed him and gave him a hug. It was much appreciated and snapped him out of his gravitas. He smiled and the three strode off.

The meadow was aglow with the soft orange of the sun just risen above the horizon but not quite clearing the forest below. The one who'd done all the talking the previous day asked Dominic, "Ready for your morning jaunt, master of the stone?"

"Yes," he replied, smiling. Then grabbed the rough hairs at the nape of his transport's neck and yanked himself on.

"Hey, that hurt."

"Shut up," Dom said evenly, digging his claws into his back. "Let's fly."

The ruffian laughed, lifted off and made a wide arc heading towards the woods, the other two spread out right behind. They rose above the grasses and shrubbery. No acrobatics this time, no display of flying virtuosity, weaving in and out of grasses and wildflowers, barely avoiding other fliers, no banking and swooping and sudden drops that made him feel weightless. He could sense more serious intent in the beetle's movements, a no-nonsense attitude. Fearless of the early morning birds, he raced right through them, his cousins on either side and a little behind. Dominic wasn't so sure this was a good idea, but the vigorousness of the wing action and blur of the passing scenery convinced him otherwise. When he was able to make out a bird, its attention was drawn elsewhere. Were they flying under a cloak of concealment? Dom thought to take out a stone and perform the ritual, but it was in his backpack and he dared not let go to reach for it.

They flew like that for the longest time, or so it seemed. Warmth from the sun finally managed to get through the cool from the backward force of the wind. But he knew the other tree of the twins wasn't that far, they could've walked it before the sun was high. So where were they going? He was getting all worked up over nothing, he decided; they knew what they were doing and so he tried to relax, to think of something else. The dream. The mountain calling to him. Was that real? Had he been in the spirit realm? Were we running out of time?

Suddenly, they were in shadow. Their transportation slowed. He could see that the twin tree was far to the left; they'd gone past it, heading west, upslope. The canopy covered them, it was almost twilight. He tried yelling, "Where are we going?" but to no avail. He saw the beetle's antennae twitch; he was communicating with the others. They continued west, not fast as before but not casually either, they had purpose. Dominic wrapped his hands around as much of the hairs as he could grab and yanked a few times. His ride got the message. His antennae vibrated again and all three settled onto the brown dirt of a path. Our trio de-beetled and Dominic questioned their destination. He much appreciated the ride, but he thought they were only going as far as the forest border.

"We were told to do that," his ride said, unapologetically. "And we know why our aunt thinks it's a good idea if you hike through. But we consulted a couple of elders last evening, after they returned from the dinner, to discuss it. They didn't entirely agree that it was necessary. They said the spirit of the forest is heavier and deeper than that of the meadow. Its roots hold forth the hillside, giving it strength; I've seen them when a tree's fallen. Very impressive. It doesn't need to be dwelt in for long in order to bond with the spirit of the meadowland. All that's important is to pass through, to be present for a time. Miriana was being extra-cautious, to be certain. It's her way. The elders, however, are more concerned with time. No one knows when the catastrophe will strike, so getting there as soon as possible matters."

He looked off towards their home, then said, "But Miriana's belief is based on her artistry and knowledge and so is not to be dismissed lightly; it must be taken seriously. As master practitioner, she understands the nature of timelines and alternate planes of reality better than anyone else. So, we decided to take you half way, as we judge it. Since we were young we've explored these woods; we know where to drop you. From there due west will take you to the meadow just below the rock pile."

Dominic, Leroy, and Yancy looked at one another uncertainly and discussed it. They didn't want to screw up now after all they'd been through thus far. She understood a great deal about what they were doing. She fashioned the stone-of-change and conjured the incantation to make it work for the good of all. A very powerful seer, to be sure. A sorceress of deep knowledge. But there was at least one thing she couldn't understand, and that was the group mind his tribe was able to create, was, in fact, what defined them. If they were to submerge their individuality into a singular identity, it would become a more intense draw than what Dominic and the spirit of the meadow could produce on their own. Perhaps Miriana was judging only on what she could see. Plus, it would cut their time in half, knock a whole day off if not more. They knew what to do, how to blend self into something that transcended it, so they accepted with much appreciation. They climbed onboard their respective rides and away they zoomed. No blur, but things passed rather quickly nonetheless.

Trees, thought Dominic. He'd never been amongst them before. Not these massive kind, all grouped together. He used to look at them, off in the distance, every day all these years when out scouting or just exploring for its own sake. And now, here they were and here he was. The smells were the most notable thing. The dank, rich, pungent smell of black dirt and rotting branches, twigs, and leaves. They flew over entire trees, fallen with greenery and moss growing on them. What creatures, he thought. So gargantuan, as tall as the sky, and when they die and fall over, life uses them to feed new life. A cycle that never ends. Sounds he heard he never had before. Birds aplenty, nesting and flitting from one tree to another, and other animals. He knew deer and bear would be here, but also he saw small furry creatures with long tales running on branches, jumping from one tree to another, chittering to no one in particular. It was a world apart as Miriana had said. They needed to experience it.

Shortly, it seemed, but he couldn't tell, time lost all meaning when traveling this way, they came upon a sandy hillock barely covered. They landed, our trio found their footing in the sandy loam and let their packs fall. The talker pointed out due west, the border of the tree line could be seen from their elevation; a tiny patch of bright sunlight shone through despite the haphazard arrangement of the trees. Dominic wondered if they grew that way deliberately. Was there a plan underlying it all? A harmony? Surely, he could sense it. A collective mind at work to match their own. It must be true then, as he used to imagine. Something about the forest that acted tribe-like, and different tribes collaborated with one another for survival.

There was nothing more to be said and time was wasting. Miriana's nephews wished them luck. Our trio thanked them in return and wished them the same. The talker lifted off, circled around to hover over Dominic and shouted, "Okay, master of the stone, it's all yours." He laughed and raced to catch his cousins. They watched them until they disappeared. That was it, like a doorway being covered; they were alone in the middle of the woods. They turned to face west and the meadow beyond the tree line.

Dominic took a drink from his canteen and passed it to Leroy who sipped and handed it to Yancy. He took a long pull and gave it back to Dominic who capped it and put it in his pack. This was their ritual. They all had their own canteens, of course, but this sharing at the onset of a trek brought them together as one. It helped them to center and gather strength and determination--resolve. It was like saying, we're in this together and I got your back.

They loaded their gear and headed down the hill, sliding in the loose, sandy dirt all the way. When they hit bottom, they paused. They were at a fork they hadn't noticed from above. One was wide, practically all dirt, hard and crumbly, with but a few stones and sprouts of short grass here and there. They could see large, deep footprints up to the far turn that would have to be negotiated. To the right was a narrow one with barely discernable depressions; mere traces and imprints. Leroy tapped him on the arm. "Dominic," he inquired, "which way do ya' wanna go?"

Dominic had picked up a short stick with a point on the end and aimed it down the narrow path that twisted sharply into the woods at an angle. He moved a charm of concealment from its pouch into the vest pocket where he'd put Nathan's time dilation seed, then stepped onto the darker path. Through the twilight, they walked abreast; brilliant shafts of sunlight poured through scant openings in the canopy showing the true colors of the surroundings and ground. The majesty of the trees. They had nothing to compare them to in their meadow. Sure there were fruit trees and the occasional single large one, but not like these, and not in this profusion and overpowering presence. Yet they weren't pushy about it; they held stillness, repose, steadfastness.

After several meandering turns, the narrow-leafed plants towering over them closed in, making it difficult to keep a bearing on west. But they knew they were heading uphill, of that they were sure. Leroy had taken the lead, as usual, with Yancy bringing up the rear. When the occasional ground vibration indicated the approach of something, they moved to the side. Yancy had that covered and would call out. Once a grey-skinned creature with a long snout they were familiar with passed by and another time a much larger one with ordinary features for his tribe. Leroy studied the grasses and stems for any movement. They had yet to bump into anybody their size, which they found peculiar. But the forest had its own ways, they were learning.

They came to a wide break in the canopy, light shone on a cluster of pebbles. They could see for a distance around the perimeter an the air was comfortably warmer, so they decided to take a break. They opened their packs for a handfull of rations and were excitedly surprised to realize they'd forgotten about the leftovers. Spreading an assortment on a stone, they stood around picking at it. Once satisfied, they each grabbed a piece of something and found a seat.

The sun was high. On the meadow they would know how much time before dusk they would have. But here, close to the mountain, they couldn't really say, except that it wouldn't be very much. With all the curves they'd taken, they also couldn't say how close to the meadow they were.

Leroy brought it up. "Dominic. I want to get this over with. I've been enjoying our stroll through the woods, don't get me wrong, but why don't we just bear down and go for it? Get off this wandering trail and head due west, right through the brush?"

Yancy walked to the makeshift table to get another blue thing and said, "I agree. We need to get a move on." He looked up at the sun, it was a little past high. He pointed to his right and said, "That way."

Dominic glanced up, then said, "I agree too. If we're lucky, maybe we can make it before dark." They repacked everything, wet their whistles, took out a piece of tea leaf to chew on, then loaded and tightened their packs. Leroy put his head down and crashed into the jungle, Dominic and Yancy close behind. They climbed over and ducked under branches, twigs, and seedlings of multiple varieties; stepped gingerly over a stretch of moss, fearful of falling through; circumnavigated a smelly hole filled with black water and who knows what else, and struggled up a gravelly, leaf-covered hill they could see no way around. No one spoke. For what might have been half the morning, they trudged through the thick and thin of it, climbing over stones and tree droppings they'd never seen before, when they passed into a clearing where the canopy began. They stopped for a breather to appraise their situation and to take a drink. Yancy heard a soft croak coming from the far corner of their one-foot wide enclosure and walked over to investigate. They were scouts, it's what they did.

On reaching the broad leaves spread out just above the ground, he felt a stiff, cool updraft. Listening intently, he heard the muffled sound of burbling water off in the distance. He called them over. Their canteens could use filling, so they headed that way. Passed the leaves it was all straight downhill. As they entered the shade of the canopy, the grasses and scrub thinned out. The rush of water intensified. They broke out onto a sandy, pebble-strewn bank. A streamlet gushed by from right to left. They were rising higher up the slope at a faster rate and noticed that the flow of air coming from the snow-covered mountain was less impeded and a good deal cooler. They scanned for passage and spotted a branch laying across upstream. White butterflies flitted about and a lazy, deep-throated croaking went off nearby. They heard a high-pitched chirping followed by a distant buzzing and then something large thrashing through the brush. Sounds took turns in the forest, especially bird song, and their sources were mostly invisible. A twig fell soundlessly close by; they looked up to see a chiterer scrambling through the lower canopy.

They walked up the bank, stopping at a back eddy to replenish their canteens, then up onto the bridge. The bark was wet from splashes over rocks just above. They dug in with each step. When they got to the middle, they paused to look upstream and down. They heard of streams flowing near the edges of the meadow but had never encountered one. After the snow melted, the streams and brooks were so vast one had to get some elevation to see the other side, but this one was very narrow, a single branch linked the banks. Because of the stones in it, the flow was quite turbulent with water frothing and splashing up and over rocks near its center. Ice-cold spray running from the snow above wetted them. It was not unpleasant after their hot march through the thick foliage, but it made the bark slippery. They dug in and continued across, one cautious step at a time, staying within grabbing distance of one another. They jumped down onto the far bank and directly in front was a narrow dirt path heading steeply up. Most likely a well-used trail for small creatures to get a drink or to cross over into the woods. It was heading in the right direction, so they took it. When they reached the crest of the hill above the bank, the ground flattened out and the path curved sharply to the left right into the sun. They froze in their tracks. To their surprise, one might say astonishment, the meadow lay before them. They hadn't anticipated reaching it until the following morning after camping for the night. But there it was. From their vantage point, they could see how it dipped downward on this side; they were thankful now they'd chosen the narrow path at the fork. Excitedly, they pushed one another forward to the tree line.

One tree stood apart just inside the meadow. Hurriedly, they climbed to above the highest grasses to scan for the rock pile. There it was off to the left, not very far. The sun was near the peak of the mountain, the snow and ice glittered under its onslaught. Happy and relieved, they climbed back down, jumping the last few inches, and began to make their way when a deep grumbling shook the earth, knocking them off their feet. It lasted only a few moments but was terrifying nonetheless. "Not yet," Dominic screamed. "Hold on, you monster."

They dropped their packs and ran for it, over and under, under and over, sticks, stones, dips and bumps; crashing through clumps of stiff cabbage grass, they raced. Another rumble, more violent, closer to the surface, but they kept their balance and continued running. Yancy, the fastest, ran ahead, knocking whatever might be an impediment aside. Leroy ran beside Dom, making sure he kept his footing, although it didn't seem to be necessary. Dominic moved with an agility and deftness he didn't believe he any longer possessed. It was like someone else running for him.

"We need more time," Leroy yelled. "We need to slow this whole thing down." Simultaneously, it occurred to them. "Yancy," Dom yelled. He turned. Dom pulled the time dilation seed out of his vest, showed it to him, then swallowed it. They did the same. Almost at once, the wildflowers waving in the downhill breeze slowed to almost a standstill. The wings of bees and butterflies, oblivious to what was going on, could be seen moving ever so gracefully like eagles casually cruising the sky.

They reached the rock pile, once a huge boulder but with time and weather had cracked into dozens of pieces. Yancy got out of their way as they scrambled up, Dominic at the lead. Abruptly, the ground under the pile shifted back and forth heavily. Dom was sure that if it had occurred at normal speed, he would've fallen, hard. Clambering over cracks and crevices and jagged shards without hesitation, he reached the top, a flat rock resting on a jumble of larger ones leaning into one another. He took the pouch out from his inside vest pocket and removed the stone-of-change, tossing the pouch aside. He held it over the top and whispered as though rehearsing, "I am Dominic and I am the spirit of the meadow." His eyes widened, his antennae straightened, fear outlined his features. He turned to stare in disbelief at Leroy not far behind. "What is it?" Leroy yelled, the gravity of the situation all he knew.

"I've forgotten the rest."

"The rest of what?"

"The incantation, what Miriana told me, the magical words that make it work."

Leroy stared back. "What?" Pounding his fist on a rock, he said, "I knew it. I knew something like this would happen. Why didn't you tell us? Why'd you keep it to yourself?"

"I don't know. It didn't occur to me. How could I forget such a thing?"

Leroy bellowed, his body quivering with the exertion, "Get it together, Dominic. Life is on the line. Move it."

Dominic squinted, then shouted, "That's it." He placed the magical stone on the flat rock and, as reverently as he could under the circumstances, repeated what he whispered followed by, "Together we move into a new life."

Immediately, they were thrust off, landing on their backs on the ground, the impact bringing them into real time. Miriana forgot to mention that part, thought Dominic, hoping he didn't break anything in the fall. They watched incredulously as the misshapened pile of rocks reconfigured itself into irregular blocks of varying sizes all around it like steps, stairways, that snake-like swerved from bottom to top. It transformed from a dingy brown to a mix of purple, dark green and deep blue as well. It sparkled in the sun with reflections off the smooth surfaces and sharp angles radiating in every direction. The blinding suddenness of the multicolored light too intense to look at.

Then all went silent and as still as the space between a heartbeat, setting the stage for the transition of something into something else. A shifting of identity to a new version. When they opened their eyes, a fresh sheen covered everything. The grasses and wildflowers and flying creatures exuded an effervescence as though reborn. Then the birds started up as though on cue, taking their turns one after the other, their crisp, vivid calls from the forest went straight to the heart, and the loud buzzing of a bee passing overhead made them laugh. Leroy and Yancy got to their feet and helped Dom to his. They smiled crookedly at one another, not completely certain but willing to believe they had accomplished their mission. It was a miracle.

Leroy slapped him on the back, almost knocking him to the ground. "You did it," he said. "I knew you could. I never doubted you for a moment." They laughed, the deep bond of brotherhood strengthening. Gleefully, they retrieved their packs, narrowed their eyes to stare at the new rock pile in amazement, and then walked back to the meadow tree as the sun started its passage over the mountain, now calm and unperturbed. They climbed to the first branch and found a suitable place to spread their bedrolls.

Dominic leaned against the trunk and surveyed the meadow, its grasses and clusters of wildflowers of every color tossed their heads in the cool breeze running down the mountain. It was a beautiful sight. The highest meadow on this side of the mountain, it was only about half the size of his meadow, if that, but as wide as the mountain, and there was something about it that made it seem less wild, less raucous. A refinement, an openness, a dignity. Bracketed on both ends by clumps of stumpy trees and above by a band of gravel that spread right up to the thin tongue of ice and snow, it was a world unto itself. The bright glistening of snow thickened as the slope rose to the lip of the mountain top. How could this meadow be here? he wondered. Why? All he could see from his world was the tree line and the snow. And this is where they meet.

As darkness descended and the strange and sometimes startling sounds of night creatures emanated from the woods, stars began to appear. Shyly at first here and there, then as the sky blackened, with more verve. They said nothing, knew no words. They savored the vista, breathing deeply the fragrant, cool night air of the magical meadow and feeling the profound satisfaction of having realized their goal.

The following morning the air was a-tingle with that delightful spring mixture of chill and warmth. From their vantage point, they could see fog over the forest pulled apart and lifting off ever so lazily, devoured by the sun. Sitting up, nibbling on some unknown yet delicious piece of leftover, Leroy's keen eyes made out three dark fliers coming straight for them through the gray mist. Within moments, they were close enough to be recognized; our trio of heroes waved them in. The three cousins landed on the ground beneath their branch. "You did it," yelled the oldest beetle, a broad smile filling his face. "Congratulations. Miriana knew early this morning, something about a crystal she was working on, it formed into a stairway or a series of ledges of different sizes stacked like a tiny hill, twisted at the bottom like a spiral. She said it was her spirit guides informing her the transition had been completed. I don't know, I didn't follow all of it. My cousins can explain it to ya', they're into that stuff more than I am. She sent us to get you. A festival is being prepared. Everyone's invited, including us, you'll be happy to know. And a courier has been sent to invite Nathan and Nalina and whoever else he can round up. My aunt wants some guy named Malcom there. We got work to do, my friend. It'll last for days. Much tea will be drunk in your honor, the three of you. Come down and we'll get goin'."

They rolled up their sleeping mats and tied them to their packs. Leroy and Yancy let them fall on the clover, then climbed down. Dominic stayed aloft to stand on the branch leaning against the trunk, taking in the view. All except the talker on the ground walked over to the newly reformed pile of rocks, the marker for the freshened timeline. It was magnificent to behold in the morning sun, a monument of magical design and mystical meaning, linking the earth to the stars and to time itself.

"Others will want to see this, Dominic," he yelled up. "Traffic will be heavy for a while." He looked at Dominic with admiration and then with some curiosity and concern. Dominic wasn't staring at the marker but was instead surveying the entire meadow with appreciation and caring. Its bustling activity and beauty, its tall, strong reeds of myriad grasses and purple, violet, and yellow wildflowers. He especially admired for their simplicity the ones of white petals arranged in a circle with a large sun in the middle. Its peacefullness. A serenity not felt in his home meadow. A solitude between the forest and the ice and snow of the mountain's face.

"What is it?" asked the talker, a touch of worry in his smooth voice. "Are you looking for something?"

After a pause, Dominic said softly, "I wanted to be here since I was young and wondered what it was like where the tree line met the snow. A life's quest finally realized. And to have it be under these circumstances and because of such an incredible reason. A dream fulfilled. And one not."

The talker felt what he did, his sense of relief and discovery, and said, "We'll bring you here again, if you wish, Dominic. Just name the time and we'll pick you and your friends up at Nathan's."

"No," Dominic said. "This is it. I want it to remain in my heart forever as it is." He said no more. He kicked his pack over the edge and climbed down.

The gang had returned in time to hear that last part. "Let's go, Dom," Leroy said, care in his tone. "The celebration is about to begin." Everyone smiled, including Dom. Yancy howled loud and clear, then said, "C'mon, boss. The job is done. You did it."

Our trio of adventurers climbed onto their rides and after one long inspection trip around the fantastic marker, off they went. Dominic looked back over his shoulder at the quickly fading sight of the meadow and whispered, "Together we move into a new life." He then looked off to the side past his ride's shoulder at the passing trees almost lost in the shadows of the canopy. Then out into the sunlight over a rocky, grassy patch, then zoom, back in and around massive trunks and between branches. He held on tight, looking toward what lies ahead.