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creating a partial ceiling of foliage above him.
    Lymwich motioned to his left. “Here.” Pryce turned to stare at the huge trunk of an impressive stevlyman tree. The botanical wizard Usherwood Stevlyman had developed this particular species of tree many years ago, along with the much-beloved, multicolored flowering pollandry plant. The tree was cherished for its rich brown color and its elegant shape.
    The inquisitrix again motioned Pryce toward the wide trunk of the stevlyman tree. On closer inspection, it appeared to have a gaping man-sized hole in it.
    “Yes?” Pryce said slowly.
    Berridge released another laugh. “You don’t understand. This is yours, sir. Your dwelling.” “My dwelling? A tree?”
    She nodded and Pryce finally looked up. He noticed exquisite little round windows divided into even smaller square window panels, peeking out from the interwoven vines that covered everything. He then took a closer look at the tree trunk. The opening was cunningly concealed among the bumps and bends of the tree trunk itself, and it was so dark inside the opening that its very existence was difficult to detect from even a few feet away.
    Pryce poked his head into the opening. Inside a small recessed area was a door, also designed to blend into the tree. Once again Pryce was reminded that everything about this city seemed to be designed like a living work of art.
    Covington suddenly remembered his guide waiting outside. “Ha!” he said from inside the tree. “I am fully prepared to find suitable lodgings on my own. There’s no need to put anyone else out”
    “Oh, no,” said Lymwich. “We wouldn’t hear of it. Gamor made Geerling’s wishes perfectly clear. You are to stay here.”
    Pryce looked back over his shoulder from the entryway.
    “Well,” he said with a shrug, “if I must, I must____”He backed
    out of the entryway and motioned for the inquisitrix to precede him. “After you.”
    Lymwich shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said. “You’re not tricking me so easily. I’d be mad to risk the protective magic of Geerling Ambersong!”
    Aha, Pryce thought. One small step forward for Pryce Covington. Now, at least, he had a surname to go with the mysterious Geerling. He also had some sort of protective magic he had to figure out some way to get by. Instinctively he did what he had done before when he faced a thorny problem. “Inquisitrix Lymwich,” he said somberly, “do you know Gamor Turkal?”
    “Humph,” she said, “that rake? Please, no more mention of him, if you don’t mind. It was disgusting the way he crowed about you, his friendship with you, and how important your arrival was to Grand Mage Ambersong.”
    Pryce was distracted by a pleasant sensation of flattery. “Really? He talked about me?”
    “Incessantly. He and you this, you and the Grand Mage that, he and Geerling Ambersong…”
    Covington hoped she didn’t see him twitch. Geerling Ambersong—could he have been the other dead man at the tree? Pryce quickly turned around and faced the door again. Given the worsening odds, it was better to get this over with sooner rather than later. At least if Ambersong’s magic scrambled his body, his brains, or both, the suspense would be over, and he would be put out of his growing misery. He closed his eyes and took a final step toward the door.
    He perceived a dim light from the other side of his eyelids and heard a click. Somehow the noise was welcoming rather than frightening. He opened his eyes just in time to catch the tail end of a glow coming from someplace below his chin, but before he could react to this turn of events, the door swung slowly inward.
    The cloak clasp, Pryce thought. It must be a magic key…. Suddenly his eyes were filled with a vision of homecoming the likes of which he had never experienced. The inside of the tree stretched back and up farther than the outside gave any hint of. It tapered to a vaguely pyramidal shape, complete with branches hollowed out from the