Once upon a time everyone knew about a land that was beautiful but deadly. Its history was locked into their hearts and carried in the race memory of every new born child. They knew it by many names, in many continents. They whispered tales of those who entered and never returned. They feared it, and desired it.
They talked of a rose covered gate in the depths of a wild and ancient forest, only those who dared venture far into the dark heart of the forest would find this gate. Nothing could be seen beyond the gate but a brilliant shining light.
The air at the gate smelled of roses and lavender and made the traveller light-headed and the music of a crystal stream aroused a desperate burning thirst. It was said that if people stood too close to the gate or tarried too long at its thresh-hold they would be intoxicated beyond their will and stagger helpless into the light, never to return.
The search for the gate crossed many generations but as the age of machines gave way to the age of computers, and as the human race crossed the frontiers of its own imagination they ignored the history of their hearts. The old tales were forgotten as they chased the great dark Gollum of progress into every last corner of the earth.
And the people of the machine age scoured the dark and ancient forests until only one remained.
Soon the last vanguard of trees where under attack and the massed legions of flora and fauna were being devoured by the road of progress.
Until the people and their machines arrived at the rosy gate.
These were people of machines, pressers of buttons, remote controllers, they could fell a dark and ancient forest without raising a blister or receiving a scratch, but when their machines whirred and coughed at the gates and their buttons refused to be pressed and their remote controls sparked and died everything came to a halt.
The people of machines regarded the rosy gate with care and caution and called upon the wise. The wise were very surprised and they wrote papers about it and took photographic images of it and pored over historical references to it but their hearts told them to keep their distance They decided to wait for the brave, the brave came and looked at the rosy gate but were rightly concerned that the wise did not enter, so, as in all tales they called upon the poor, the foolish and the ignorant.
�Come to the rosy gate� they said �and make a marvellous new life for yourself, take all you can and it will be yours, the fruit is so large that it defies gravity, the flowers so thick and plentiful that your eyes will weep in delight, the trees so thick and strong that your homes will be mansions, come, come, come, it is the promised land.�
The call crossed all nations so that soon the ground outside the gates was filled by the desperate and the greedy, the rich and the poor. The wise would make it an experiment, a clean experiment, so they decreed that one may only enter the rosy gate with the clothes on your back, one months� supply of food, a vehicle or a beast and the tools to build a house. Nothing could be removed.
The rich and the greedy loaded their cars with tools, more powerful and plentiful than they would ever need and tasked their lawyers with the search for loopholes while the wise people looked on in troubled acquiescence.
The poor and desperate arrived with nothing but the clothes they stood in, the bread in their hands and a savagery of hope in their hearts.
And so on the allotted morning they all stood outside the gate, waiting. Already they could smell the beautiful scent of the roses and lavender and their minds became drunk with imaginings. Some gripped their steering wheels, others their electric tools and their solar powered generators, others their donkeys who carried their teetering towers of tents and belongings and some just held each others hands for they had nothing else to hold. And then a beautiful and sonorous bell that had been specially forged from the finest and most harmonious metals in the world was sounded and they all walked or ran or drove in black plumes of smoke through the beautiful rosy gates into the brilliant light. Not one of these many people could have predicted what happened next, for the instant the last children passed hand in hand through the rosy gates a huge wall of granite erupted from the earth and encased the beautiful land. An estimated 2000 miles square of uncharted land disappeared behind an impenetrable wall of grey, indestructible rock; helicopters flew overhead but were blinded by a vicious light that resembled looking into the sun.
The mics and sensors they had put on participants in the Paradise Experiment instantly stopped transmitting. And there was a complete silence except for the strange friction that the wringing of hands and the sighs of people who are about to be fired adds to the tight air.
Beyond the light, standing in black plumes of smoke Amy saw nothing of what they had been told. The land was patchy and dry, the trees were short and stunted, the flowers wore petals of spikes and the water of the stream looked cloudy and troubled.
Andrew started to cry,
�It�s dead, it�s a dead place and my leg hurts, and all the others have gone and I�m hungry and there�s no fruit and no trees I want to go back, please Amy, please�.
As he spoke they turned and looked for the gate they had passed through moments ago, but a dusty desert scrubbed with sharp stunted trees stretched away in all directions. They walked a few paces in confusion; dust settled around them, a sound of cars faded into the distance. They were quite alone, the gate was gone and the sun was burning in a white sky. Amy was lost for words for a moment for her eyes were telling her one story while her heart was full of another. She could sense the subtle scent of roses and lavender and fruit under the choking dust and hear a silver tinkling of crystal water in the air. And a voice was whispering somewhere deep inside, �Welcome home� it said.

�Andrew, it�s going to be fine� Amy said taking his arm and leading him to the meagre shade of a short spiky tree. �We can hope for those trees that the sun leaves warm all day and night and those soft mossy beds, oh, and best of all, those giant fruits. They are here somewhere and we just need to find them.� Just as she said this a huge red and green apple landed in the hot dust at their feet. Both looked at the stunted leafless branches in astonishment, then at the sky, then all around, and then back at the apple. Andrew frowned but Amy felt her sense of all being well grown stronger and more solid. It was almost as if she knew this would happen. And Amy knew, even as she picked up the apple that there would be no maggots or blemishes. She was right and smiled in delight as she handed it to her brother. They really were going to be alright, she knew it as well as she knew her own hands.
�Here you are� she said, �a perfect gift for the perfect boy I told you we�d be alright�, but her brother scowled at the apple, �It�s rotten� he said, �I�m not eating that�. Amy stared in surprise for the apple was as perfect as a full moon.
�Its perfect Andrew� she said and noting his expression of disbelief, bit into it. The apple was sugar sweet and crisp. Andrews face was a picture of disgust but he was hungry and weak so she said, �Close your eyes and just imagine it�s the best apple in the world�. So he did, and in his hunger devoured every last bite, forgetting his sisters� empty stomach.
That first night, curved together like spoons in the cold dust, they could hear the buzz of power tools and the groaning of falling trees in the distance. With her face pressed against the earth Amy thought she could hear something else, the sound of water in the roots, building from a little trickle to a steady flow.

In the morning the sound of power-tools and engines was gone. A bird sang its crystal song, the breeze swished as if rippling through a golden field of corn and there was another sound, a sweet murmuring that called to Amy as she turned on the mossy root and drifted on the strange thermals that lift dreamers into the day. The first thing she saw as her eyes flickered and opened was green, a startling emerald green that caused her to shut them in surprise. Then her body noticed that the earth she lay on was no longer dry and dusty but soft mossy and warm, then her nose scented fragrances sweet and fruity, near and far, and the singing bird that she had thought was in her dream lay its crystal song over these marvellous sensations like a multicoloured blanket. Her heart raced and she squeezed her eyes, what if she opened them and found it was all a dream, what if the sweet taste of the morning should turn to the bitter taste of hunger. She sat up and slowly opened her eyes. And there was the land she had been promised, roses nodded on brilliant green bushes, their delicate scent drifting on a breeze as soft and warm as the memory of a mothers touch. Thick grass rippled and sparkled with diamonds of dew, bright birds glorified the morning from the cloudless skies and trees bowed low to drifts of lavender offering glistening fruits of many colours. And there, coursing like a silver snake through the grass was a crystal stream tinkling like countless tiny bells in the music of the morning.
�Wake up, wake up Andrew, quick, look, look and see...� Amy cried turning to her brother, but he wasn�t there. Amy decided that he must have awakened before her and wandered in search of fruit or water, she stood up and searched for tracks in the lush grass, but all around her the grass stood straight and the dew sparkled at its tips. She wandered around the tree, last night it had seemed thin and stunted but this morning its girth was so great that it took her many steps to walk around it.
�Andrew� she called �Andrew are you hiding?� She said this even though she knew it was not in Andrews�s nature to hide or play and all the time a feeling of panic rose in her chest. �Don�t be silly� she told herself �he can�t be far� but the horrible wave of panic was becoming more powerful
�Andrew, Andrew� she screamed she had always looked after Andrew, she had made a promise and Amy always kept her promises. He was her little brother and she was supposed to look after him. Yet there was nothing, no sound except bird song and the tinkle of running water, no movement except the rippling breeze and the nodding flowers. She could see far into the distance and her heart sank as she failed to see the small stooped figure of her brother, somehow, he was gone, out there alone. She stood under the tree and stared out at the green miles and felt small and scared as the land swooped up and away into the floating misty distance.

2

Amy sat under the tree for a long time, she cried bitterly, she called her brother again and again, she walked round and round the tree, laying a flattened path of grass until her feet were spattered green, as twilight fell she curled into the mossy roots rubbing her damp salty eyes and fell asleep.
It sounded like a long slow yawn when someone says aaah, but this yawn said �weeeeeellll, heeeerree yoooouu aaaaare Aaiimmeee� Amy blinked herself awake, her eyes felt sore and puffy and it took her a few minutes to realise that someone had said real words. She looked around her searching for the voice but in the darkness it was impossible, then she felt and smelt a long slow foul smelling breath on her head, on looking up she saw the strangest creature she could ever imagine. It hung upside down from the tree. It had a strange broad hairy face that was wider than any face she had ever seen. It seemed to be mostly mouth and eyes which it presented to her upside down. The smell was awful and Amy found it hard not to gag, the combination of the smell and the fact that she thought it had talked left her feeling dizzy and ill. It took the creature an age to turn its head; even the blink of its eye seemed to take an eternity. Small insects of all shapes and sizes were dashing about on its coarse hairy body; it also seemed to have moss growing along its back and arms. Had it spoken? Had she imagined it had said her name? Of course it hadn�t, animals cant talk she was telling herself when again it said �Aaaimmmmeeee�
Amy stared at its slow moving mouth for some astonished moments before saying �Did you say my name?� To her amazement the creature uttered a long slow groan that seemed to take an age and said �Sloooowly� so she repeated it slowly and the creature drawled �Yeeesss�. .
The conversation they had took many hours and a lot of patience on both parts, even the creature had to be patient because after a short while, hours in its time, it grew irritated by Amy�s impatience and had to think long and hard about whether to continue to talk to her. Only when it realised that the strange noise she was making was weeping did it relent, she was only a pup after all, but she was important
This is what they said.
�Where is my brother?�
�In the ocean�
�What ocean?�
�The ocean�
�Why?�
�You�ll find out?�
�Won�t you tell me?�
�Don�t know?�
�Don�t know if you�ll tell me?�
�Don�t know why�
�Why not?�
�Not my part�
�What�s you part?�
�To tell you where�
�But why?�
�Don�t waste my time�
�Why?�
�It�s different to yours, it shouldn�t be wasted�
�What are you and where is my brother?�
�Too quick, too much�
�Where is my brother?�
�In the ocean�
�Where?�
�At the end of the stream of course�
�What are you?�
�You mean who�
�Yes sorry who?�
�I am myself�
�Yourself, that�s your name?�
�No, myself?�
�Myself, but now that�s me�
�No, I�m quite definitely myself� The creature said with a slow finality
It was now late afternoon, night had passed into day and the creature slowly closed its eyes as if totally exhausted and fell asleep.

Amy sat under the tree listening to the slow breathing of the creature called Myself and chewed her nails, it was all so confusing. Why was her brother at the ocean, he couldn�t be in the ocean, not all the time. And how did he get there, but she had just talked to an upside down talking animal so it was clear that anything could happen. No-one had mentioned an ocean, or maybe they had and she just didn�t listen. She stared out at the lush green plain dotted with beautiful rose-bushes and thick glistening trees and wished she was back in the grimy streets of her home town, it was hard and cold there, but at least she knew where she was and had her brother safe beside her.
She knew the best places to beg, how to steal and how to hide at night, they would have been alright there and now she wished she had never come to this strange silent world. Tears dropped onto her cheeks and blurred her vision as her doubt and desolation grew... But then she remembered her brothers� face, twisting at the pain in his leg, the way it grew thinner and weaker by the day, the way his skin was turning papery and grey, the colour of death. That was why she came, for life, a chance at life. If she could find him she could heal him here, there was clean food, clean air, clean water, no sight of the night men with their knives and guns, if she could find him he could live, they could live and be happy, just like before. So Amy stood up and wiped her eyes on her arm, she would go to the ocean and find her brother, she would follow the water. She ate two fruits from the tree and drank from the stream, the fruit was so filling and the water so pure that she felt her heart swell in her chest and strength course through her limbs; anything is possible here she thought as she strode out into the afternoon sun and tracked the stream. By the time that she became no more than a little dark dot on the far green plain each flattened blade of grass under the tree had slowly filled itself with water and stood up and the creature called myself had disappeared.

3
The sun lowered itself towards the horizon and covered itself in filmy clouds of pink and orange. It lay gold and red fingers across the drowsy plains, colouring everything facing west in delicate reflections of its own fiery grandeur and turning the long shadows to hues of deepening purple.
The stream had grown from a silvery strip to a broad shallow watercourse, the water was as clear as glass and beneath its surface Amy could see creatures of all shapes and sizes: large brown fish suspended in the fast moving water, small scuttling creatures running across the submerged pebbles and occasionally caught and swept sideways by the current, tiny silvery darts of minnows, insects treading miraculously on the surface, their delicate footless legs describing perfect silvered points on the water, dragonflies patrolling the air, bold and metalled as warriors, dark green weeds flowing out and away from the banks like mermaids hair
At first Amy sensed a change in the air, like a long low note played so quietly that you barely knew you could hear it. She saw a dark gathering of trees around the stream in the distance and as she drew closer the low note became louder and more intense, other higher sounds interweaved within it until nothing could be heard but an intense ceaseless roar. The stream had become troubled and frothy and Amy felt a tremor of fear as she entered the dark roaring wood that sprung up around the water. And there the ground suddenly fell away to an almost perpendicular drop, the trees she had seen were mostly tree tops, dense and gleaming with spray around a booming wall of foaming white water. The bottom of the waterfall was shrouded in spray and mist and everywhere was sodden and slimy. The noise was frightening in its intensity and Amy was quite unnerved for a few a moments. Then she reminded herself of where she was headed and why, and with this in mind she steeled her nerves and searched carefully for a way down.
Years of saturation had covered the rocks in slippery green lichens, the force of the spray had bared huge gnarled roots and washed away all of the soil so there were few footholds. Amy�s arms and legs trembled with fear and exertion as she made her way down the treacherous drop. The icy spray numbed her fingers and toes and soaked her to the skin, her feet skidded, she grazed her knees and knuckles against the rocks, and she had to wipe her eyes constantly as the spray blinded her and dripped into them from her hair and eyelashes. As she got lower everything started to become dark, the last of the sunlight was dimmed further by the density of the growth, it became harder and harder to see. Amy felt a surge of horror as it struck her that she might be stuck here on the side of the waterfall all night. She was so cold now that her body was trembling violently, making it more and more difficult for her to maintain footholds and grips. Then at last the light was gone and it was completely dark and Amy had to fumble around for something to grip before lowering her trembling feet into nothingness and hoping. At last she came to a stop, she was clinging to a wide gnarled root with both hands, her body stretched down to a sloping and slimy rock from which her foot was repeatedly slipping while her other flailed out into dark space failing to find a hold. Her heart galloped in her chest as her frozen fingers slipped slowly from the slimy root each time her foot fell from the rock. She renewed her grip again and again as her toes slithered on the slimy rock and her free foot flailed uselessly in the open air. Then suddenly her hands slipped from the root and she was falling and the roaring water drowned out her cry of terror as she fell, still grasping at the air, into the freezing saturated darkness.

A milk soft moon traced its gentle light over her face, finding her closed eyelids through a gap in the canopy and lighting her awake. She awoke with a gasp of terror, she had been falling, cold and falling, and the noise of the waterfall, almost as soon as she thought it she heard it as if someone had just turned up the volume, booming and roaring all around her. She opened her eyes and saw the moon, round and silent in a black sky, she was lying on a bed of soft moss by the foot of the waterfall. It loomed above her like a huge living wall, the air was loaded with spray and icily cold. She felt her body for damage but her hands were numb, she sat up carefully and pulled her legs up to her chest. No pain, she was not hurt, how could that be? She had fallen a long way. Too weary to linger on this thought she simply thanked her luck that she had made it down without injury. And so, aching with cold and tiredness she staggered to her feet. It was then that she noticed the strange colours all around her, she closed her eyes and opened them again and the sight that met them was so stunning that for a moment time seemed to stand still and the terrible boom of the waterfall disappeared. The spray was alive with colour and it was all around her, spiralling until it covered her body like a firefly cloak, the tiny coloured specks moved past her eyes and up into the spray in a steady glowing stream, vibrant and delicate as butterfly wings. And as they swirled around her she felt her body grow warm and her clinging clothes dry, her numb fingers ease and stretch, her curled toes loosen and relax and finally her shaking, aching limbs grow still and strong again and then the lights disappeared into the spray and the roar returned.
The moon lit a helpful path along the edge of the water, and soon she was walking away from the booming cauldron at the bottom of the falls and watching the water restore itself to a calm broad stream, as placid as the milky reflection of the moon. As she walked away the trees shook their shimmering leaves and rustled their branches as if something was passing through the canopy with slow deliberate movements and behind her the waterfall lights emerged from the spray to dance.

Amy slept well in a warm bed of moss under a sweet cherry tree, she knew nothing of fruits and seasons and when she ate cherries for breakfast it didn�t surprise her to find them. Nor did it surprise her to find mushrooms that tasted of bread and butter or nuts that shed their shells at her touch all in one day. The stream became a wide deep river as she travelled and there was not a moment of any day when she felt hungry, bored or tired. When it rained the drops were large and warm and tasted of milk, when the wind blew it smelled of lavender and roses. And the small creatures she passed did not run from her.
Amy grew fit and healthy on the fruits of the earth, her limbs became quick and strong in the endless summer and all the time the river became broader and deeper. Life should have been perfect, but Amy worried constantly about her brother. How could he have travelled to the ocean without following the stream? And if he followed the stream she would surely have caught up with him by now? And why did he leave, what had she done to make him leave? Or maybe he had been taken? Every other living soul had disappeared as if the earth had swallowed them. All those people and cars and beasts had come into the garden, yet she had seen not one person or any evidence of them since that first day. Was Andrew with them? Was he somewhere alone and fretting? Was he back at the tree where she had seen him last, waiting small and alone for her to come back while all the time she travelled further and further away from him. What would her mother say if she knew that Amy had lost him? She had promised to look after him. It was the one thing she could do at the time, that terrible time, the one thing that had stopped despair and grief from devouring her. The promise had been all that mattered since.
So no matter how wonderful the garden was the cloud of worry coloured the blue skies and green plains with its own dark palette. And then there was the loneliness, he had always been there, the smell of his sandy hair, the sound of his voice, the strange indefinable colour of his eyes twinkling at her in a smile, the way his eyelashes curled over his pale cheek when he looked down and the sound of his breathing safe and even in sleep. Amy felt as if a part of her had been wrenched away and sometimes the pain of it left her so filled with apathy that she could barely bring herself to move. But the promise, that promise dragged her on and she swore to herself that no matter what happened she would search and search until he was found.

4
Amy awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, certain that someone was speaking, no not speaking but whispering, murmuring, close to her ear, but when she searched around in the milky dark she saw nothing but the pale shadows of night and heard nothing but the ghostly whispers of the rippling grass. This was not the first time she had felt this, yet although she was sure it was no dream there was nothing, as usual. Nor did this make her feel afraid, she had wakened many times in a black sewage tunnel or frozen doorway to the sound of children screaming and deep male voices booming in triumph, she had dragged her limping brother among a frenzied scuttle of escaping rats into tight black corners, putrid piles of rubbish crawling with vermin, evil smelling water that stained you with its scent for days. These men would hurt you, they would kill you, you were the rats and they were the catchers, they enjoyed their work and their hearts were made of stone. Here, under the gentle starry blanket of the night, there was nothing to fear, so she would turn over on her mossy bed and drift back to sleep drowsy from its spicy scent and listening for a soft murmur.

Amy saw it from a long way off, at first it appeared as a vast purple block in the distance, and then as she drew nearer it developed vague suggestions of green and grey
The river disappeared into it as if going from day to night, after sunset it loomed along the entire length of the horizon like a vast black wall. It took many days for Amy to reach the edge of the forest but as she grew closer the she became anxious and troubled, her eyes searched the vast shapeless gloom for nameless monsters, dark creatures seemed to move in the shadows, or was that her imagination, or tricks of the light. At night she slept where she could not see the forest and where it could not see her, safely tucked behind a tree or in a soft dip in the grass, sometimes the hairs on her neck tingled and rose and she imagined she felt eyes watching her, waiting for her. At other times the shadows seemed to move and gain depth and density but when she squinted hard into the dark heart of the forest, the shadows melted into the gloom. Eventually Amy decided to stop looking at it, sometimes walking backwards so her eyes rested on the gentle sloping greens of the plains, or looking down at the slow soft river and its troupe of wonderful creatures playing out their lives in the overlapping worlds of water and air, or sometimes watching her green stained feet patting steady as a heartbeat below her, walking without the need to think, carrying her in the way a contented horse will carry its burden steady and sure. She marvelled at her feet and sometimes fancied that they spoke to each other as they trotted along. Even so, the forest pressed itself on her, its presence reached out to her and planted itself in her minds eye. �Look at me, look at me now� it whispered and at these times Amy would fix her eyes on her trusty feet and resist, she could feel it moving towards her, its darkness chilling the air so sometimes she felt she must have stepped into it without knowing and then looking up in alarm see it their, stretched out in the distance still, gaping like a malevolent black mouth swallowing the light.
At last she stood at its edge, the hairs on her body standing on end, her scalp tingling, her heart galloping and her nerve almost failing her. She looked back over her shoulder at the bright plain and her knees felt weak. The trees were huge, their branches grappling in the canopy and rattling in the breeze, their trunks densely packed so the forest floor crouched in an endless night, the river became a dark mirror and its creatures hovered in the light at the edge and did not enter, or disappeared to the safe depths before they dared pass. Amy sat down, terror coursed through her and made her limbs weak, her breath came in short gasps as she stared into the thick suffocating darkness. She could not enter.

But then she thought of Andrew, alone and scared somewhere in this vast land, perhaps lying sick or injured and calling her name, waiting for her because he knew she would come, his heart steady because he knew he was not alone, he had Amy and he was a sure of her as she was of her green spattered feet. And then there was the promise and her mothers face smiling in releif. Amy�s heart slowed as she thought of these things and her blood grew hard with resolution and pumped power into her limbs and nerve in to her mind. Amy curled a hand around each foot and spoke to them. �You will not fail me feet, nor will we fail Andrew, you are going to take me through this forest and if you have to run, run fast, and if you have to climb grip well and if you have to kick, kick hard. This is your promise� Satisfied she released her green toes and touched her chest above her heart, �heart do not falter, keep me strong,� she whispered, then taking one last deep breath of the bright air strode determinedly into the withering dark.

The little light that penetrated the battling canopy was thin and weak, as if the exertion of its journey had left it weary and fearful. There was no joyous dappling on the sparse forest floor, no flashes of brilliance lighting a sudden patch of green like a gemstone. Instead a thickness of gloom cloaked the air between the trunks and gave Amy the horrible sensation that she was growing blind for no matter how she squinted and rubbed at her eyes she couldn�t seem to focus properly on anything more then a few steps ahead of her. The river was black and flat as glass, it had become cold and lifeless and threw a chill up from its banks. Amy had been walking in the gloom for many hours; she had closed her mind to fear and all but the sound of her feet, the rhythm of her breathing and the certainty that the forest would have an end. It had become very dark but she kept walking unable to consider stopping in this sunless place. The air had become damp and mist crept along the forest floor and curled its cold fingers around Amy�s feet and ankles. The night was heavy with chill and something else, something that troubled Amy deeply, a smell, almost imperceptible, of rotting. And then she was back at her father�s funeral, the weeping, the sorrow but most of all the smell, the dizzying obliterating scent of lilies, and underneath that the smell of something else, like a faint shadow or the vague memory of a bad dream, the smell of death.
Amy�s heart skipped a beat as a sudden crack in the forest snatched her back from the memory. It was much too loud for a twig or falling branch. And the smell was becoming more powerful. Amy felt the instinctive rising of the hairs on her neck then ahead in the gloom the mist suddenly tumbled and whirled and rearranged itself around the silhouette of a terrible menacing bulk moving slowly towards her. She wanted to turn and run but her unruly feet rooted themselves to the spot and her knees quivered unbidden above them. A huge black head emerged from the mist, it hung heavily between great hairy haunches that rose and fell slowly as the creature advanced swinging its terrible head from side to side and pouring hot breath from a dark red mouth. Its snout was short and broad and its amber eyes smouldered in the spiky fur of its face. Amy raised her head to meet its� eyes as it drew slowly closer. It loomed above her and she shivered as its burning breath swept her cheek.
Her foot stepped backwards of its own accord, and then her other foot followed and all the time Amy stared up into the eyes of the creature and heard nothing but the pounding of her blood in her ears. Suddenly hot breath gusted down her back and her toes curled as she heard a deep rumbling snarl behind her. There were two of them. And now her feet kept their promise and lifted her sideways into the darkness so suddenly that she barely kept her balance. Blood rushed to her trembling legs and she flew over the ground faster than she could ever have believed possible, her heart pummelled as she vaulted over roots and dodged the thick trunks that rushed at her from the darkness. A roar and the heavy crashing of branches added yet more speed to her feet as the terrible beasts gave chase, the forest was suddenly alive with their howls and grunts and she could feel the air in her ears pulse at each rumbling roar. How long can I run, she thought, how long will they chase? And already she knew she would not outrun them, but run she did. Not just for her but for Andrew, for her mother, for the fact that she did not want to die here in this dark place, not with the terrible smell that lilies could not hide, not here when outside was like a beautiful dream, a beautiful place to lie down for the longest rest. Yet these thoughts were just a flash in her head as it rose and fell over her pounding feet and strained to the tune of the chase. Then, from nowhere, one appeared in front of her, steam pouring furiously from its huge nostrils, a glance over her shoulder confirmed two of the beasts galloping at incredible speed behind her. They were almost upon her, and at that moment Amy gave up hope, she was done for, dead.

Then Amy heard the murmuring voice, the whisper in her dreams, clearly. For just as hope was leaving her the voice cried �KICK, AMY. KICK NOW� and her feet unbidden kicked into the damp ground and she was leaping at the face of the beast. Its jaws opened as if in slow motion and she saw strings of saliva glistening between its jaws, long dark teeth drawn clear of wrinkled black lips. �AGAIN Amy, NOW� the voice commanded �On its nose, on its nose.� Her feet responded unbidden and she watched in wonder as one green spattered foot pointed itself resolutely at the fast approaching mouth, she felt as if she was flying, then as she started to descend she knew she would miss. But suddenly, as if someone had yanked her back into the air her body found height and her toe sank deep into the soft cold nose of the terrible beast.
The scream was ear shattering, for a moment she believed it was her own but then she was falling on the hairy head of the monster, her arms flailing as her toes buried themselves into the deep nostrils and everything was tumbling hair and saliva and steaming breath in the darkness. She was lying across the beasts head gripping its ears with toes locked into each nostril and it was bucking and letting out agonised screams. Around her a hairy mass of other beasts of all sizes had appeared, but they swayed in panting agitation, adding tremendous roars to the cacophony. And they were not attacking; instead they were tossing their huge heads and batting at their noses with great hairy paws. After an eternity of ear splitting screams the beast under her fell gasping forwards, still Amy clung on, digging her feet deeper into the nostrils until she felt it shudder in agony and grow silent, emitting only occasional whines between long rasping gasps for air. Her feet grew hot in its breath but still she gripped with her toes wet and burning in the huge nostrils. Now Amy had time to look around. Every beast was lying on the floor shuddering and suffering just as the one she lay on was. Tiny ones mewled in pain and batted at their noses, giant ones fixed her with eyes full of pain, some tossed their head in distress but all were down and helpless on the floor, a ring of steaming breath formed above them and floated up towards the soaring canopy and the forest grew quiet. Amy�s heart slowed and thumped steadily in her chest, and then strangely, filled with compassion for the beasts. A voice rang out into the ring of steaming breath, it was high but strong, and to Amy�s surprise, it was hers.
�You beasts are the keepers of the dark, the guardians of the trees, I mean you no harm� The beast below her groaned pitifully and she loosened the grip of her toes inside one nostril.
�I am Amy, I am the earth daughter, and you must not harm me� She didn�t know these words but they flowed from her mouth with crystal purity as if she had known them always. She let her foot slide from one nostril and feel for the ground.
�You have done your job but you may not harm me� she uncurled her toes from the other nostril and saw heads rise from the ground. She saw the little ones stop their pathetic batting and blink at her with their small amber eyes.
�This forest will be safe now that I have passed� she said and slid her other foot from the other nostril so it balanced on the edge.
�You must give me safe passage to the other side� her voice said and then as an afterthought she added of her own free will �and tell me if you saw my brother, please� And now she rested her other foot on the floor and released her grip on the brutes ears.
She was suddenly cold away from the heat of fur and breath and stood shivering in front of the huge panting head of her victim. All around her the beasts came snarling to their feet and their reeking breath poured in on her as every head moved in her direction. The voice in her head disappeared along with her courage and she felt her knees buckle and the earth tilt and rush up to her face. The last thing she heard was a tremendous roaring that shook the bones in her skin.

6
The silence was as thick as butter, it pressed on her ears until she thought they might pop and then she heard a sigh, then another and another, it was the sound of her breathing. She opened her eyes knowing she was still in the dark forest
Day must have come for Amy could see enough to distinguish the desperate ruts the circle of beasts had clawed into the ground and the bare earth beside her where the beast she had attacked had struggled and fallen. Her feet felt cold and sticky and she shuddered as she saw they were smeared with dark bloody streaks. Deep tracks led off in all directions. She was utterly alone.
She staggered to her feet and scoured the ground for her own tracks, they would lead her back to the river, but the earth was trampled everywhere by huge paws, all sign of her small prints had been obliterated. She shivered at the memory of the chase but then remembered the voice, that voice that came to her head and spoke with her mouth. Did she really say those strange things? What was the earth daughter? Who was the voice and what did it mean about the forest being safe. Who would want to save this place? She would have burned it all to the ground if she could, every last filthy stick of it. She kicked the earth viciously then wrapped her arms around herself and hunkered to the floor. She was cold, thirsty and totally lost without even the sun to guide her. How would she ever get out of here?
Suddenly there was a voice
�Why?� it said
�What?� Amy almost shouted in alarm
�WHY?�
�Who is it...where are you?� Amy leapt to her feet and searched all around
�WHY?� the voice bellowed
And then she saw it, a tiny movement in the roots of a tree, a glint of polished black, a tiny black beetle. Amy laughed in surprise then frowned angrily
�A beetle, a bug I have to answer to a BUG?� she stepped towards it and glared down at it. The beetle crawled a little further out and rested on the highest point of the root.
�WHY?� it roared so loudly that Amy clapped her hands over her ears and pine needles fell in a sharp little shower all around her. She stared at it in disbelief, how could it be so loud, make such a noise, when it was so tiny? The beetle waved its antenna much as a person might wave both arms above their head to get the attention of another, very distant, or quite close but very stupid, person.
�Why what?� Amy replied, knowing there was no point in asking a beetle why it could shout so loud without asking herself if she had gone completely mad
�Why burn it to the ground?� Amy gasped, it had read her mind, or maybe she was mad, she must be mad, that was it she would close her eyes, count to twenty and make it go away. But the voice grew louder and drowned out her count.
�Why would you burn it?�
�Because I hate it, its dark and scary and cold and full of dreadful beasts and beetles that can shout and I cant get out. That�s why, its no use to anyone and it stinks� Amy yelled. The beetle�s antenna waved furiously and it scurried up and down in the root in rapid agitation.
�No use to you, you mean?� it said and both antenna pointed straight at her face.
�I nearly got ripped to shreds by hideous monsters and now I am lost, and its because of this forest it deserves to be burnt to little tiny cinders.�
The beetle�s antenna froze into two rigid needles. �Does every plant and animal and drop of water and ray of light exist to serve your needs Amy?� the beetle asked, almost gently.
�Well there�s no-one else here but me� Amy barked waving her arms around as if to prove her point. The beetle said nothing, its swaying antenna drooped and became motionless and it made a strange noise that she could only have imagined was a sigh. Amy went to say more but something in the beetle�s expression, yes it was definitely an expression, stayed her tongue. The beetle remained motionless for some moments until Amy was beginning to think she had imagined the whole thing then started to buzz. At first low and quiet but slowly getting louder and louder and as it did its antenna then its whole shiny black body started to vibrate until it eventually became a violent noisy blur.
�Beetle� Amy shouted �No, I didn�t mean it, I�m sorry really I am, stop it, please stop it� But the buzzing grew louder still and the blur grew and grew until it was the size of a dog and the trees were shaking a storm of needles all over her.
And now among the needles more tiny creatures, moths, caterpillars, beetles, earwigs ants and flies. Tiny frogs and lizards, magnificent winged insects, small dark birds, crusty crabs, rodents, squirrels, flower spikes, nuts and seeds, all tumbled from the trees and fell flapping and squirming and scuttling all around her and all the time the deafening drill of buzzing vibrating in her head. They settled upon her hair and face and arms and shoulders and piled around in her in a great writhing squeaking and desperate heap. Suddenly the buzzing stopped and Amy could see nothing for the flurry of wings and bodies all around her head, she put her arms over her face and covered her eyes but she could still feel the creatures, soft, spiky silky crusty slimy all whirring and scratching to escape. At last everything was still and Amy lifted her trembling arms from her face and looked around. The ground was ankle deep in needles and flowers and nuts and dead or dying insects and small creatures of every shape and size. The beetle was small and still again, its antenna pointed at her accusingly.
�This is a small patch of forest Amy and these were its creatures� the beetle waved its antenna over the carnage at her feet.
�You killed them� Amy gasped staring in horror at the massacre.
�But you would burn it all too cinders because its no use to you.�
Amy could not reply, it wasn�t fair, she didn�t know they were all there, if she had of known� But she knew even as she thought it that this was no excuse, there had been someone else here, all these small lives. As small to her as she was to the forest, as the forest was to the world, as the world was to the stars.
�And then there�s what you people do when something is of use to you� the beetle said. And Amy remembered that first day with the cars and the laden donkeys and the black smoke and the sounds of hammers and chain saws.
�Where are they all?� she asked
�They are being useful� the beetle replied
�And Andrew, my brother?�
�At the ocean� And before Amy could open her mouth the beetle seemed to break apart as its back split and it produced two black lacy wings. It lumbered unsteadily into the air in an impossibly slow flight and said �Follow me�

When they reached the river the beetle yo-yoed straight across and disappeared into the gloom on the other side. �Beetle, beetle �Amy called after it �What is your name� but her voice was made tiny among the muffling trees and she was alone beneath the dark soaring canopy again.
It took Amy many hungry days to reach the other side, but she was no longer afraid. She walked in the dim daylight and slept surprisingly well at night waking up feeling strong and refreshed. Sometimes as she slept at night she dreamed she felt warm furry bodies curl around her although she never once found any tracks in the morning.

7
Amy stepped out into a blinding wall of afternoon sunlight. For some time she had seen its bright jewelled glints piercing the forest�s relentless gloom. The canopy remained thick and dark but the light sneaked in between the vast trunks and winked teasingly as Amy followed the dark edge of the river. Then suddenly it was everywhere, a diamond tapestry that Amy could walk through, the end of the forest, the last line of trees. The tree-line was so abrupt that she could step from deep shade to bright light in one stride. This seemed to be the case for as far as the eye could see on either side of her. Amy ran exultant into the light, stretched her arms up to feel the soft heat of the breeze, stretched out on the soft grass and allowed the sun to warm her from head to toe. She ran down the river and found a tree laden with fat fruits that tasted insanely delicious; she closed her eyes and listened to bird song and the gentle hum of small insects in dappled shade. Fish splashed and plopped in the river and the grass rippled gentle breaths.
She washed at the rivers edge, luxuriating in the blue silkiness of the warm waters and the way it made her skin feel brand new. She scrubbed at her green stained feet, yet although the skin felt smooth and clean the colour could not be shifted, indeed it looked to all the world as if she was wearing bright green ankle socks, still she had been walking for days unwashed and she knew that if she washed her feet and legs every day the stain would eventually fade. So, clean fed and happy, she picked up a quick pace and made for the ocean.

The day passed quickly into night but Amy didn�t feel tired, instead she was filled with a strange restless excitement that powered her legs and sharpened her eyes so they cut through the darkness. The smell of crushed dewy grass under the pale moon stirred feelings and ideas in her heart and mind, the mystery and beauty of things under the vaulting starry sky brought tears to her eyes.
She imagined herself, this tiny creature padding through a vast landscape under the whirling stars, as tiny as a midge�s eye peering into the spectacular whirring universe of the shade under a tree. Those stars had been there forever, they had winked at her mother and grandmother as girls, one day her own granddaughter might look up and think these same thoughts. Might suddenly know that she was part of a flowing river of life, stretching both into the future and past at the same time, and that she was merely a drop of water in that river, a dew drop on a blade of grass.
Amy wondered how anything so small as she should carry the huge weight of survival so ferociously, how each tiny living thing believed itself the centre of its universe when really it was just a tiny droplet of being in a much bigger life. But they did, she did, the river was made of millions of drops, each as important and determined and alive and unimportant as the next. This was her turn, her stretch in the rivers journey, her turn to look at the stars and wonder, her life. And she was going to make it a good one, for herself, for Andrew, for her grandmother and her granddaughter, tiny as she was, she mattered.
The night was growing pale and the stars were fading, everything was becoming the flat monochrome that draws night�s last breath before it gives way to the brilliant brightling morning. Fingers of sunshine slipped over the horizon casting long black shadows under great red and orange streaks, a vast wave of colour was breaking over the land. Amy�s heart pounded joyfully and she strode into the morning as if it was the first morning of her life, as if she had been borne of the night and the day had come to welcome her. Birds surfed in on the sunrise and filled the air with their songs and then, to her joy, in the blue distance she saw the shimmer of light upon water, and a blurred blue line on the horizon that she knew in her bones could be nothing other than the magical space where the sky communes with the sea. She was looking at the ocean.

Thoughts of Andrew filled her with a thrill of excitement; she imagined finding him at the waters edge, splashing in the blue water, swimming among the mermaid hair weeds. He had grown strong in her imagination, the grey stain of death washed from his skin by the warm sun and ripe fruit. She saw his smile, him laughing and running, she knew he would be healed. They would embrace and her heart would surge with joy, with the love that is so powerful it knocks the breath from your lungs, so strong that to think of it for too long is so overwhelming that you feel devoured by it and your life is second to it, your life is little more than transport for it. A love you would gladly die for, the love of your own even greater than the love for yourself. Yet she was also impatient, the ocean remained a distant blur no matter how fast she walked, and no matter how far into the night she travelled before rest it appeared no closer in the morning. She kept constant watch for signs of Andrew, he may have started walking from the ocean to find her, and he would take the river route for there was no other clear path. She worried that she may pass him sleeping in the night, or trudging under the shade of a dark tree on the other bank, she took to singing his name loudly so that he would be certain to hear, and sleeping in bright open spots so he might see her. She found she needed less and less sleep till on some nights she didn�t sleep at all, merely lying on the grass listening to the roots whisper to each other under the soil and feeling a distant pulse travelling through the earth as if somewhere a gigantic clock was striking each minute out with a vast hammer on the face of the land.
Her green ankle socks had become knee high now, and although she washed her legs and feet every day the green was not fading but becoming more intense. However her feet seemed happy with this, they never ached or nagged or tripped her, her green ankles never twisted or sprained. In this land green skin was fine and somehow just right, and soon Amy stopped trying to scrub it away even though it was slowly creeping up over her knees, after all the green parts of her worked better than the rest
.In fact sometimes her feet seemed to flow over the grass like air or water rather than rise and fall in a steady tred but this only happened when she wasnï¿