Olive and Kuba find a strange arch of living branches in their grandmother’s garden, and beyond it lies a world they were never meant to see.
Olive and Kuba thought this holiday would be quiet. Their grandmother’s house sat at the edge of the forest, old and leaning, with a garden so wild it seemed to breathe. Ferns climbed over the paths, vines knotted around the fence, and the shadows under the trees stayed cool even at midday.
On a cloudy afternoon, Kuba slowed beside a tangle of bushes at the far end of the garden. He grabbed Olive’s sleeve and pointed. "Look. We’ve never been back there."
They pushed through the leaves in silence, their shoes sinking into damp earth. Then they stopped. In front of them stood an arch woven from living branches, joined so tightly it looked grown instead of built. Pale green mist shimmered inside it, and something on the other side made a soft, bird-like chirping.
"It’s probably just an old garden ornament," Olive whispered, though her voice didn’t sound convinced.
The branches creaked. The mist thinned.
Beyond the arch was not the garden at all, but a world of blue grass, glowing stones, and trees with silver leaves that flashed whenever the wind moved through them. Tiny creatures darted between the trunks, half squirrel, half bird, and too quick to count.
Kuba took one shaky breath. "Olive..."
She was still staring when a dark shape stepped out from behind a silver tree on the far side of the portal and turned toward them.