Long ago, a sequence of events was begun by the song of a tree. The tree’s voice, soon joined by that of its twin, brought forth a kind of creature that was like none that had existed before it. This creature possessed a special gift that enabled it to control its own destiny, and it was because of this gift that the forests of the world were now diminishing.

Glenridge Forest was located at the centre of the City of Saint Martin and it was being consumed by a housing project.

Andrew Milligan’s job was to go into newly built house-skeletons and stuff their walls with insulation. He worked with two other men at a construction site run by a company called Paigely Builders. The site was a sprawling mess of machines, building materials, and houses in various stages of completion ranging from bare foundations to fully built homes awaiting only a layer of paint.

During the day, the site was normally bustling with activity as workers went to and fro moving dirt, wood, and concrete from one area to another, using heavy machinery when necessary. As late in the afternoon as it was, however, the site was quiet as most of the workers had already gone home. The three insulators were working later in the evening than usual. They were paid based on the amount of work they completed so putting in a few more hours now and then meant a little more pay. The summer was nearly at its end and Andrew’s son needed a new backpack for the coming school year.

“What grade is the kid going into?” Bill said.

“He’s starting middle school,” Andrew said, “and he doesn’t know anyone here.”

They were sitting on the exposed floor of the house that was their current project. They had placed floodlights around the area to illuminate their work and these cast their shadows on the walls. The scene reminded Andrew of sitting around a campfire telling stories.

“I’m sure he’ll be good,” Bill said. “Lots of friends in no time.”

Joel was the youngest of the three. “I don’t know how you guys do it,” he said. “I can’t even take care of myself.”

Bill chuckled. He tipped his cup back, drank the rest of his orange juice, and then threw the empty container at him.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s get this done so we can get out of here.”

Andrew stood up and pulled his face mask over his nose and mouth. He walked to the back of the house where he had been working before the break. The insulating material came in rectangular pieces that were made to fit into the frames of the walls but often they had to be cut into smaller fragments in order to fill in the nooks and corners. He went to work, stuffing the walls with the fluffy material or cutting it into pieces with his utility knife.

An hour passed before Andrew finished insulating the back wall. He took off the face mask and leaned on the open frame that would eventually become a window. It looked out into Glenridge Forest. The moon was full and it shone down on the tops of the trees but its rays failed to penetrate the darkness underneath. It was a hot night but a lazy breeze cooled the perspiration on Andrew’s face. He stared into the darkness of the woods for a long while and, in time, he heard music, faint and uncertain.

“Ready to go?”

He turned and saw Bill and Joel standing there. He hadn’t heard them approach.

“Yeah,” he said. “Hey, do you hear that?”

They joined him at the window and together they stared into the night.

“Crickets?” Bill said.

“No. Really listen. Don’t you hear that music?”

“What are you talking about?” Joel said. “Have you been inhaling this stuff?”

Bill patted Andrew on the back. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go home and get some rest.”

They picked up their tools, left the house, and walked to the parking area. Their vehicles were the only ones remaining there. Bill and Joel threw their things into the bed of Bill’s truck and then jumped into the cabin. Bill honked the horn as they drove away. Andrew put his tools into his aging sedan’s trunk. He slammed the door down twice before it stayed closed. He walked around the car toward the driver’s door but stopped in mid-step.

He heard music again, more clearly this time. He recognized violins, trumpets, flutes, and drums, among other instruments that he couldn’t name. It was a sweet sound that made him think of honey and silk.

He reached into his car and pulled out a flashlight. He walked toward the source of the music and passed many of the house-skeletons that now hid in darkness.

When he reached the edge of the forest, he shone his light into it. The music was coming from somewhere in there. A hesitant step took him into the woods.

He walked for a while and then reached a part of the forest where the undergrowth was thick and the going was slow. He had to step around bushes and over branches. Andrew considered turning around but wavered. The strangeness of the music nagged at him and begged him onward. He breathed in deeply and fumbled with his flashlight.

During that moment of indecision, there came a sound from another part of the forest. It was a growing, rhythmic thudding that was as if a giant was pounding on the forest floor. It was coming from the direction opposite the source of the music. There was a rumble like thunder and no more than twenty paces away from him a monster appeared. In the darkness, he made out only a mass of muscles, glowing red eyes, and horns like the devil.

Andrew turned and ran. He felt the earth shake as the creature gave chase. Branches struck his face and arms and pulled at his clothing, but he stumbled forward as quickly as he could. He dropped the flashlight and his flight became a blind sprint.

Before long, Andrew thought that he could feel the creature’s warm breath on his neck. A bestial snarl made his head rattle. He dove forward. His head bounced off a branch and he fell. He landed hard and felt a trickle of blood run down his forehead and into his eye.

He scrambled to his feet and saw that he had come to a clearing. The full moon revealed a tree, enormous and ancient, in the middle of it. The tree was the source of the music that he had been searching for.

He turned back toward the edge of the clearing and saw, in the darkness, a pair of fiery eyes that were looking back at him.

The creature stepped forward and its massive frame was illuminated by the moon. Andrew backed away, using his hands to feel for the trunk of the tree behind him.

The monster took a step forward and the ground rumbled.

Andrew fell back toward the tree and then he found himself in another world.

Emma Wilkins was eleven years old and she lived on Belle Street.

It was Sunday morning, on the day before the start of the new school year, and Emma was sitting on the window sill in her living room, reading a book, when she saw a man walk up the lawn. The man saw her through the window and waved to her before he reached the front door and rang the doorbell. Emma dog-eared her book and put it down. She went to the door and opened it but her father came up behind her before she could speak.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning. You’re William Wilkins, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. What’s this about?”

“My name is Bill,” the man said. “One of my friends went missing near here and we’re trying to get some people together to go search for him.”

“You’ve called the police, obviously.”

“Yeah,” Bill said. “They’re looking for him but the thing is that we don’t think they've looked hard enough. See, the thing is me and my friend work with Andrew and we were with him night he disappeared. We work at the Paigely site over that way.” He pointed in general direction of Glenridge Forest and Emma’s father nodded.

“So we’re sure he got lost in the forest somehow,” Bill continued, “and they don’t think he could’ve got very far but we know Andrew better. He’s a stubborn son of a gun.”

“Why do you think he went into the forest? Hiking or something like that?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Something like that.”

Mr Wilkins took a moment to look out into the street behind Bill. “Okay,” he said eventually. “I’ll be right out.”

“Thanks,” Bill said. “Meet us down the street at the intersection when you’re ready.”

He turned and walked on to the next house. Emma could see now that there was another man across the street doing the same thing that Bill was doing, knocking on doors and talking to people.

She turned back toward the house and said, “Dad, can I come?”

“You’d better stay here,” he said. “It will be boring for you. We’ll just be walking and looking.”

“But I love the forest, Dad,” she said. “And I like walking and looking too.”

There was a closet next to the front door. Mr Wilkins opened it and took his running shoes out. He sat on the bench next to the closet and put them on. As he tied his shoelaces, he said, “Okay, go get your brother. He can help keep an eye on you.”

“Okay!” Emma said and ran to fetch her brother Will.

Down at one end of Belle Street was Lockhart Road. It was a small road that ran alongside the edge of the forest, separating it from Emma’s neighbourhood. Toward the west, the road led to The Hill, and toward the east, it terminated at the main entrance of the Paigely Builders construction site. Glenridge Forest straddled it from the north.

It was at this intersection that Emma and her family gathered with half a dozen of their neighbours and a few strangers. Bill stood in front of the crowd with the other man who had been knocking on doors with him.

“Last time we saw Andrew, it was at the construction site,” Bill said. “We think he’s in the forest because his car was still parked there next morning and he mentioned earlier that he’d heard something out there. I think he probably went to check it out.”

“What did he hear?” someone said. Emma couldn’t see who it was but he sounded familiar. She made her way to the front of the crowd and saw that it was their next door neighbour, Mr Arnold Thornton. He was a biology professor and he worked at the University of Saint Martin like her father did.

“He said he heard music in the forest,” Bill said. “I know, it sounds kind of ridiculous so we didn’t pay it any mind. But it’s possible he went looking for it.”

“So you think he just got lost?” Mr Thornton said.

“I hope so,” said Bill’s companion. He was younger than Bill and he looked very worried. After he spoke, he patted his pockets down looking for something but he didn’t seem to find it.

“Hello,” Emma said to him. “What is your name?”

The man blinked down at her. “I’m Joel,” he said. “What’s yours?”

“Emma.”

She offered her hand and Joel shook it. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll find your friend.”

Bill drew their attention again and explained his plan. They were going to spread out into the forest in pairs and circle back after two hours.

“I know that four hours is a long time to take away from your Sunday, folks,” he said, “and I apologize but Andrew is a decent guy and his wife and son miss him very much. They moved to Saint Martin recently and they were only just getting settled in.”

Emma’s father spoke up from the back of the group. “Don’t forget to call out his name from time to time,” he said. “Maybe he’s stuck or injured somewhere.”

The assembly dispersed and they entered Glenridge Forest.

Emma took the lead and walked on a few steps ahead of Will and her father. She took glances left and right as she went and saw the other searchers moving through the trees. The rustling of their footsteps on the forest floor mingled with the chirping of the birds in the trees. As time wore on, she saw the other groups move farther and farther away from her own until they were completely out of sight, though the calls of “Andrew!” continued to make their way to her for a while longer.

Emma had decided to take charge of her group’s yelling duties.

“Andrew!” she called out as loudly as she could. She turned and waited for her family to catch up.

“Come on, Will,” she said. “If you yell too then we’ll be twice as loud.”

“It’s okay,” Mr Wilkins said. “One yeller is enough.”

“Maybe just once?” Will said.

Mr Wilkins adjusted his glasses as he considered it. “Okay,” he said. “Just once if it’ll get it out of your systems.”