attract youthful kirins, almost beckon them upward. But not a youth of the home clans has ever touched a barwood, taught from childhood about the tree’s perils.

    Instructing Hut what to do, Speckarin spoke quickly and with utter gravity. “Climb the tree, gather several leaves, and place them in this container.” Removing a silver box from his bag, the magician’s brow furrowed as he handed it to Hut. “Then climb down to the ground immediately. Do not tarry in the tree, little one. Puncture one of the trunk’s vessels and collect a few drops of sap in this.” He produced a small silver vial.

    “While anywhere near the tree,” he continued, “wear a mask. Take this cloth and cover your face, leaving only your eyes exposed, and t...

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