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“I see it. ‘Lovely,’ isn’t it?” Yet, as I peered deeper into its branches, I began to notice even more words, described in the curl and convergence of its twigs.

CASCADE

WINSOME

WHOLE

“I’m not sure that I understand,” I said.

“It’s not just this tree. Look there, at that larch.”

There was indeed a larch a few steps deeper into the forest, and among its needles, I saw even more words—picked out in prickling, bristling shapes.

URGENT

RUSHING

“But … how?” I said.

“I’m not sure,” said Havelock.

“How many of them have words?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?”

“In their branches, and bark, and roots. In the shadows they cast. In their needles. Every tree I’ve examined has words. It might be the whole forest.”

There was a gentle wind, and it sent leaves skittering across my shoes.

“What does it mean? How is it possible?”

Havelock smiled to himself. “I don’t know. But isn’t it wonderful?”

A few moments ago, I had been wandering amiably through the long grasses, reminiscing about Colombia, but now I was presented with something so extraordinary that I did not know how to react. I was grateful that Havelock was with me. Here was the impossible, and yet he seemed implacable in the face of it.

“I met Mary,” I told him.

“What are your impressions?”

“As prickly as her nettle-paper. Agreeable enough, though.”

“Capable of felling a tree?”

“Possibly,” I said, thinking about the way she mashed at her crop of nettles.

Havelock nodded. “I think perhaps we should go down to the village,” he said. “There, we can speak to the Duchess’s list of suspects.”

“What about…” I gestured at the trees.

“I’m sure someone will furnish us with an answer,” he told me. “In the meantime—it’s a fine day. Why don’t we enjoy the mystery?”

As we made our way through the forest towards the village, we amused ourselves by reading the words in the trees.

IMMERSED

FLUNG