Its floor, walls, and furniture all sparkled with a moist, silvery sheen, like frozen mist. The ceiling, unlike any they’d ever seen, tapered to a point high above their heads. All at once, the truth struck home, and they turned to each other. “We’re inside the tree!” they both said at once. “I do have chairs, you know,” rang a mischievous voice behind them. They spun around—and then leaped to their feet. Tamwyn accidentally stepped on Elli’s toes, but she hardly noticed. For seated before them was the Lady of the Lake herself. She sat in a chair sprouting out of the floor, a crystalline burl that was part of the tree itself. Under its vaporous surface, it seemed as solid as any wooden chair—maybe more so, since it looked as if it had lasted all the ages of Avalon. The woman herself seemed quite old, and yet her gray-blue eyes twinkled with youthful vitality. She studied her guests, playing with the curls of her silver hair, until at last she spoke to them in a rich, gentle voice.
