The eastern edge of the clearing approached rapidly. Beyond it, the trees were twisted with spatial distortions even more complicated than the borders of Osmund's side of the island.
"Eyes forward," Madoc advised without looking back. "And don't try to understand what you're seeing. Just follow me exactly. Step where I step."
They entered the distorted forest, and Finn could immediately tell why Madoc had cautioned him. His senses were literally betraying him at every break in concentration from Madoc's back that he had his eyes locked on. Unwarranted vertigo, questioning his sense of distance, of depth, of scale…
Through it all, Madoc moved with composed confidence. His steps never faltered, never hesitated. He navigated the chaotic border region of his side of the island with the same familiarity Osmund had in his.
"How long have you lived here?" Finn asked, partly to distract himself from the disorientation.
