In the most secluded part of the resort…

The scraps of what had been told him echoed through Hazel’s brain, tearing at the edges of his consciousness as he walked in a dreamlike daze through the turreted battlements and colorful flags.

…there is an ash with golden boughs…

The few people Hazel saw were hurrying in the opposite direction, toward the park exit. Some of the attractions were belching acrid smoke, with the system-wide electrical problems and shorts in the wiring probably to blame. Perhaps he had gone too far in arranging it, but it was all for a good reason.

…it has been there a thousand years…

“Sir, I must ask you to evacuate the park!” A Gisnep Parks security officer confronted Hazel, blocking the service entrance to the Gala Gardens. “It is not safe to remain here!”

…and will stand a thousand more…

“I have to go,” Hazel said sleepily. “It’s calling me.”

…the architect of this place knew…

“S-sir, you will evacuate now!” The Gisnep Parks man leveled his Taser at Hazel. His hands were trembling, his aim shaken by the circumstance and Hazel’s detachment. It was also a good bet that he’d never had cause to aim, let alone fire, the thing before.

…it is the hub the world turns upon…

“Can’t you hear it?” said Hazel. “Mr. Gisnep knew, when he built this place. And now I will know as well.” He started a bit as the electrodes hit his chest, but the current had no effect. Maybe the Taser was broken, or the nervous Gisnep rent-a-cop fired it wrong. Or maybe it was the Tree.

…to protect it is to bring fortune…

The Gisnep Parks guard dropped his weapon and fled. Hazel pulled the electrodes out and opened the gate the man had left ajar. He wandered among the Gala Gardens, following the sweet golden melody even as warbled and distorted versions of the Gisnep Anthem commingled with the evacuees’ screams in the background.

…to nourish it is to achieve immortality…

The Tree was the lone ash in the Gardens, its position reflecting neither its importance nor its power. Old man Gisnep must have known, even as he built his great resort around the Tree to protect it and to harness its positive energies, that the best security was often obscurity.

…to destroy it is to unmake the world…

“I have come,” Hazel said in a low voice. “I was called and I have come. What would you ask of me? What would you use me for, amidst the dreams of thousands turned nightmare?”

…to touch it is to touch creation.

“I see.” Hazel removed one of his gloves and reverently placed a hand on the Tree’s trunk. Eyes widened, pupils dilated, and he beheld.

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