Darkhenge

F. FEARN: ALDER

He saw the bird fly. I was going to tie a message to its leg but he was running up the corridor and I had to let it go quickly.

It scraped out through the cracked window and fluttered into branches.

He went quite still when he saw the broken glass. A branch reached in like a hand; even as we watched, it was growing inside, and the leaves on it were unfurling like they do in a speeded-up film.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

The window splintered and fell in.

“The first caer is breached,” he whispered.