"Y'know, it's usually me who has the bad idea that we decide to go along with anyway." Dakkan laughed nervously, pushing aside the dewy branch that had whipped against his arm. "Not to be, ah, rude or anything but—are you sure you know where you're goin', Janik?"
Janik looked over her shoulder, raising her eyebrows at him.
"And I thought you liked adventure, Dakkan."
"I do," Dakkan said, kicking aside a leafy sapling on the ground and splattering his foot with dew as the two tromped on, "but the part of adventure I don't like involves getting lost in the mist and being eaten by a Treewalker after Dad forbids me from ever returning to Terria again, ever. Which is kind of a problem."
"What, being eaten or not being allowed to visit Quinlan and me again?"
"Both."
The trees were thickening as they went along, growing wider and rougher, and Janik skipped over a few of the arched giant roots that bulged from the forest floor. Dakkan scrambled over them. The forest floor was slick with spring morning dew and mist. Sunlight was a soft rumor that hung far, far above their heads.
Janik breathed in the coolness, feeling a shiver go down her spine as she looked up and saw the towering tree trunks disappear up into the mist. She loved morning. Everything was quiet and cool, and as much as she enjoyed debate, it was nice to escape the constant rattling of words that went with her diplomatic studies, or her parents grilling her every morning. There was something soothing and collected about morning. Quinlan liked the sunlit-dappled woods when Caldus cut him free enough from his studies to explore them, but she liked the mist.
"Okay, this is creepy." Dakkan ducked his head to avoid walking face-first into a dew-laced spider web. "I hope the walk is worth whatever you promised we were goin' to see. Why did we end up doing this, again?"
"Because Quinlan is in bed sick, and you and Kenosh didn't get the news before you got here," Janik said matter-of-factly, her curled tail bobbing behind her, "which just leaves you and me. The adults told us to go 'entertain ourselves', and I didn't think you would want to spend your whole time here learning to recite the governing principles of the Vulpin council. And the last time I checked, Dakkan, you don't have a very busy schedule."
Dakkan grinned. "You got me there."
Janik and Dakkan walked on further, winding into the woods. They treaded carefully to keep their balance as they started up a slick slope. The mist followed their ascent. Both of them were flecked with moisture when they came to the top of the rise and stepped out from behind the rows of trees. A giant lay fallen against the slope, its roots bigger than Lutren dinghies still embedded in a crushing grip on the hilltop. Its massive, moss-splotched frame was supported by the other monoliths in the woods. Despite being hollow and covered in moss reveling in its slow decay, it stayed strong—a hollowed out passageway to the sky—and Janik approached the entrance.
Dakkan whistled at it. He had no need to duck when he clambered into its belly, and he and Janik easily stepped in side-by-side.
"Cripes," he whispered, looking up at the inside of the hole-dotted roof and wrinkling his nose at the smell of wet wood. "This thing has gotta be over a thousand years old."
"A million is more like it." Janik's wide eyes roved over the inside.
The two scrambled up the inside of the tree, feeling spongy wet wood and white disks of toadstools under their feet, and finally, after what seemed to be an hour of walking, they spied the light at the end of the tunnel. Janik darted up the last steep incline to reach the outside first, Dakkan scrambling to follow her. They both stopped on the jagged outcrop of bark.
"Woah," Dakkan said.
An entire different canopy level was laid open to them: a complex map of outspread branches eons old littered with bunches of leaves, vines, and wads of mistletoe bigger around than Dakkan's head. Green-nipped buds lined the web of vines, making them into their own dew-covered spider webs, and the mist put everything beneath a dreamy, color-dulling filter.
The branches were wider spread this high up, and instead of having the clutter of mist and undergrowth in their faces like before, Dakkan and Janik could see the sun. It was a red disk in the distance poking from the mist with stark clarity.
"Some sailors are gonna be nervous this morning," Dakkan breathed, gaze fixed on the scarlet orb in front of them.
Janik looked up at his face.
"Worth it?" she said.
Dakkan looked over the expanse of clouds, forest, and sun before them. He shifted, making the droplets clinging to his whiskers shiver.
"Worth it," he said.