The White Oak Read Online Free PDF Page B

silver-gray tree. The largest tree I’ve ever seen. The base is wider than a city block, and the top disappears from view like the point of a skyscraper piercing the clouds. Its pale leafless branches form a net against the dark sky. A flock of large orange birds drift around them like autumn leaves animated by the wind.
    “This is where she lives,” Minotaur says, stopping abruptly next to a large root that protrudes from the ground not far from the trunk of the tree. My feet are numb with pain and I’m sweating from the run. I lean against the root, which is as tall as I am, and lift up a foot to examine it. The cuts are packed with the toxic sludge from the riverbank. Infection is setting in; my feet are swollen and throbbing. I lean back and close my eyes for a moment. That’s when I realize there is something different about this tree. Through its woody skin, I can feel something flowing, a pulse. The tree is alive, like me.
    Minotaur has been staring up at the canopy, watching the giant birds. He glances at me, and a look of concern appears in the form of a television mom from a show I used to watch. “Don’t touch the tree,” she says firmly and urgently.
    “Why?” I ask.
    “Just stay away from it,” she says, turning her attention back to the birds. “The tree is dangerous—trust me on this.”
    The mother persona is gone and the knight returns. As Minotaur watches the movements of the birds, he shifts personas rapidly, trying on different characters to figure out his strategy.
    “I’ve never seen birds like that,” I say, marveling at their size and speed.
    “Those aren’t birds,” Minotaur says. “They’re called Simurgh; they’re among the fiercest creatures in the underworld, and they guard this tree.” Minotaur hovers near the ground, practicing the new personas. Some are monstrous, not human at all. He stays almost transparent so as not to draw attention to himself.
    “That’s weird,” I say. “Why would a tree this huge need to be guarded?” But Minotaur doesn’t answer.
    “You stay here,” he says finally. “Don’t let them see you. I’ll get Sybil and come back for you.” With that he swoops upward, dividing himself into a dozen personas that fly in all directions to distract the Simurgh. The flock pursues each one, captures it, and tears it to bits. A moment later the personas reassemble, to absorb another attack.
    I crouch down near the root and try to be inconspicuous, but my white dress stands out against the black ground. To compensate, I try to stay completely still, hoping the lack of movement and my proximity to the pale root will serve as a kind of disguise. Frozen in place, I watch Minotaur battle the Simurgh, and I track the white light of his knight persona as it disappears into the tree.
    Then one of the creatures spots me from hundreds of feet above the ground. Focusing on me like a predator who has marked his prey, he pulls in his wings and dives. There is nowhere else to hide, so I run to the tree and squeeze into one of the large crevices in the bark. A moment later the creature reaches me, landing with a ground-shaking thump. I try to squeeze further into the crevice as he peers at me. My whole body is wedged in, but not deep enough. I’m still within reach, but the Simurgh hesitates. I’ve never seen such a terrifying creature—as big as a grizzly bear, with the feet and sharp talons of an eagle. His bald head is silvery white, dominated by an ivory beak that looks as strong as a vice and as sharp as a sword. He folds his four giant wings and tilts his head to consider me.
    He could reach in and grab me, but he doesn’t. It’s as though he’s afraid to touch the tree, which doesn’t make sense. A creature this ferocious shouldn’t be afraid of anything. I force myself to meet his gaze. In his silver eyes, I see my reflection. I’m trapped, terrified, and starting to feel desperate, but none of that shows on my face. My jaw is set firmly, my brow