Sarah had played in the forest since she was a child. There was a clearing with a waterfall that was her favourite place. She had spent many afternoons swimming in the spray or lazing on the sun-warmed rocks. The route to the clearing was different every time, but that had never seemed strange to her. Her feet always knew the way.

There were many animals in the forest, but she had never seen another human being under the trees. She felt a kinship with the animals. Sometimes a small deer would cross her path, or a fox, or a badger, and a look of recognition would pass between them. The Forest King watched.

The forest comes right up to the city wall to the south. People have tried to cut it back over the years, but no headway is ever made. No-one has ever seen them change, but the paths between the trunks and under the leaves never seem the same twice. Every year a few people go in and disappear. Some show up again weeks later, some never at all.

Thirty years ago, someone tried to burn back the trees. The flames cleared the undergrowth and the forest thrived, but the buildings caught fire and nearly a quarter of the city was damaged.

It is said that the Forest King stood beneath the boughs and watched.