"Cora!"

She shielded her eyes with a hand and looked grouchily up from her book. "What?"

"We need a fourth for bocce!"

"Go inside and get Jake!"

"Cora, please?" She hates that she can't resist Thomas—especially when he looks at her like that. Never mind that his girlfriend is standing six feet away, looking tanned and beautiful in a purple bikini. She glances at Ben, who knows her every thought. He waggles his eyebrows at her.

"Fine." She slams The Lord of the Rings shut, draws her pale legs underneath her, and stands. "I'm on Ben's team."

Thomas pretends to be upset by this, but Lily smacks him playfully on the arm. He scoops her up and dips her, romantic fifties-style, the surf brushing at the ends of Lily's long hair. Cora looks away, because she has to.

Ben juggles balls in front of her. "Which do you want? Green or blue?"

"Which do you think?" He's her best friend; he knows her favorite color.

"Green it is," he grins. He offers the small white ball to her, her consolation prize. Lily and Thomas are kissing now.

She throws it aggressively, and it gets dragged out by the waves. The tide's going out, and the ball gets left behind on the wet sand.

Thomas whistles. "Interesting shot." He backs up to take his shot. He has muscular arms. The bocce goes flying, rolling through the water and halting less than a foot from the white ball.

"Nice!" He and Lily high five.

Water sloshes around their ankles at Cora cocks her arm and throws her green ball. It splashes loudly. Ben looks around, surprised.

"What the hell? I thought the tide was going out!"

The water is around their waists now. Lily squeals. "It's cold!"

Cora grabs Ben's hand as the sea rises above their heads and swallows them whole. The water is clear, cool. She can see to the bottom—no, wait. Where did the sea floor go?

Lily's hand gropes for hers on the other side. Cora takes it willingly enough. She bears no personal grudge against Lily. They are floating in nothingness, holding hands in a line. Thomas and Ben swim around and connect them into a circle. Cora trades panicked looks with Ben, then with Thomas.

The light overhead grows brighter. There's a sensation of rushing—something bears them upwards—blue sky, bright air…

They're falling. Falling through the sky, in a tight ring of four. Lily screams, loudly. Cora wants to shut her eyes tightly and pray for it all to go away. They clouds rush by them, not wet and cold as clouds should be; they're light and warm and fluffy. Cora imagines that they could actually take a nap on the clouds here if they so chose.

But where the hell is here?

A strong wind buffets them. Against her will, Cora is torn away from Lily and Ben and falls alone, the lush green forest below rushing into her face. She expects to be torn at by branches, but the fall is painless, and she lands gracefully in a mossy hollow, entirely naked.

Cora leans back into the moss, staring up at the sky, breathing hard. What happened to my clothes? …Nudity should not be my biggest question right now.

A head appears at the edge of her sanctuary. Her instinct is to recoil, but the head is not human. A large raccoon crawls into her space, rears up on its hind legs. It cocks its head at her. She stares right back. Its eyes are brighter, more intelligent, than any animal she's ever met.

"You are Cora?"

She blinks, taken aback. "Yes—yes, I'm Cora. Did you just…talk?"

"Yes," the raccoon says. "Wait here." It vanishes up the hill. Like an idiot, Cora waits for the talking raccoon because it told her.

"This is Cora," the raccoon's voice says, and it reappears with a few smaller raccoons in its wake. "These are my kits," he—is it a he?—tells her proudly.

"They're…lovely," Cora says, since that seems to be the expected response. The raccoon beams at her, as much as a raccoon can beam.

"Oh, goodness, where are my manners? I am Acer."

"Like a maple tree?"

"Exactly! I was born in a maple, so it seemed only fitting."

Cora notices that Acer's kits are carrying things. "What y'all got there?"

"Your things," Acer says. The kits set down their piles of stuff, and Cora sees that they are primarily clothing; leather boots, a vest…she sees an assortment of knives and frowns.

"Don't be alarmed," Acer says. "We're here to help you dress."

And that's exactly what they do. She's given loose, comfortable cotton pants (which they thankfully let her put on herself) and a similarly loose, comfortable shirt. She feels uncomfortable without a bra on her shirt, but doesn't know how to ask a raccoon about it.

Next is a sturdy leather vest. When laced tightly by a raccoon kit named Acacia, it takes care of the bra problem. Acacia also helps her strap on…she's not sure what they're called. They go from her wrist to her elbow and they're made of leather.

"There are blades in here, see?" Acacia says helpfully.

"Oh!" She tries drawing them; it's easy and quick. "That's helpful."

"We thought so," Acer says. Another kit comes forward with a pile of flat daggers. "These can be tucked into your vest—there should be specially designed sheathes within. We're not overly familiar with clothing, you understand."

"Of course," Cora says. It turns out to be true; once the vest is 'loaded,' blades are always within her reach. A belt around her waist holds a short sword and a dagger.

"Here is your pack," Acer says. "Within you will find travel rations, a water bottle, and a nice cloak. We also have a quiver and bow for you, if you so choose."

"A bow and arrow! Hells yes!" Cora accepts them eagerly and strings the bow with ease. "This was always my favorite activity at summer camp," she tells the raccoons. She pulls the string back to her ear and releases it. It makes a satisfying twang, and Cora smiles.

"What would you like to do with your hair?" Acacia wants to know.

Cora runs her hand self-consciously through the long waves. "Am I supposed to cut it?"

"I know how to braid," the she-kit says happily. "Please, sit."

Cora does, and experiences the bizarre sensation of having her hair braided by a raccoon. "This is all very generous," she tells Acer. "But…why? And…who sent you? And where am I?"

"Is it not obvious?" The raccoon raised an eyebrow.

"No," Cora said slowly. She looks up at the forest around them.

"Stop moving!" Acacia says plaintively.

"Sorry." She looks to Acer again. "Should I recognize this place?"

"It is the oldest forest in the world," he tells her seriously. She searches his face for some clue, but finds nothing.

"Am I in…the same world I was in this morning?"

"Some might say so," Acer says. "We tend to disagree."

Cora frowns. "We were told you would know because you've read of it," Acacia says sadly. "I guess they were wrong."

"This complicates things," Acer agrees. "We were assured that you had a vast knowledge of our world and its inhabitants, from the Ents to the dwarves to—"

"Ents!" Cora shrieks. "Christ on a cracker—am I in Fangorn right now?!"

"She does know!" one of the other kits pipes up. Acer looks pleased.

"Fangorn," Cora breathes, awed. She looks at the trees again. "Hello!" She calls to them. "Tell Treebeard I say hello!"

"He won't know you," Acacia says.

"Not yet," Acer says. "Are you done with her hair?"

"Yes," Acacia says, and clambers over Cora's shoulder to rejoin her father and siblings. They line up in a row and look at Cora seriously.

"We are all counting on you," Acer tells her solemnly. Cora is alarmed when the line of raccoons bows to her. She inclines her head in return, since it seems like the thing to do.

They vanish over the crest of the hollow. "Wait!" Cora calls after them, standing up. "Where are you going? Who sent you?"

But they're gone. Where the hell did they go? She looks around, but the forest offers no hints.

In due time, Daughter of Eve. In due time.