“What You See…” copyright © 1992 by Alan Dean Foster first appeared in Grails. “Having Words” copyright © 1992 by Alan Dean Foster first appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. “Agrarian Deform” copyright © 1991 by Alan Dean Foster first appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. “The Chrome Comanche” copyright © 1990 by Alan Dean Foster first appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. “Jackalope” copyright © 1989 by Alan Dean Foster first appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. “Ferrohippus” copyright © 1984 by Alan Dean Foster first appeared in Fantasy Book.
“Witchen Woes” copyright © 1983 by Alan Dean Foster first appeared in Fantasy Book. “Wu-Ling’s Folly” copyright © 1982 by Alan Dean Foster first appeared in Fantasy Book. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. “Even if his bark was worse than his height.” “I wouldn’t be too hard on the woody old grouch,” he shouted. Raising a hand, Malone waved at the rapidly disappearing form of the other man and called out to him. At a gentle flick of the leather strands, the enigmatic steed started forward, a clutch of purple lupine hanging incongruously from his mouth. Swinging himself up and into the saddle on Worthless’s back, Malone gripped the reins loosely in his right hand. “I can, however, assure you that in these mountains there is at least one tree that I will not be ascending again any time soon.” Malone, sir.” Halfway to the nearby ridge, he looked over at the singular sequoia that had imprisoned him, and for a while also, at Malone. Also, I confess that the thought of being in any closer proximity to your steed unsettles my stomach even more than does spending time atop a tree in a Sierra thunderstorm. My kit is nearby and hung well out of the reach of wandering bears. Having turned, the other man was already striding off toward the north. “Kin I give you a ride somewhere, John o’ the mountains?” “Until their existence was witnessed and reported upon,” John murmured reverently, “no one believed that such trees as these endured, either.” Doesn’t make no sense.” His face broke out in a huge grin.
I think I shall write about you in my journal.” “Not without first asking permission of the tree in question, anyways. “No more climbin’ trees in thunderstorms?”īehind his impressive beard, the other man grinned. “Will you be all right now, John-friend?” He shook a chiding finger at his new acquaintance. “Now, these trees, this here place-that be a true definition o’ magic.” Rising from his crouch, he put a hand on the other man’s shoulder, his leathery open palm completely covering it. “Rationality’s somethin’ I find is frequently overused by way o’ explanation.” Malone indicated the temple of silent redwood giants beneath which they stood. There can be no other rational explanation.” In his life of observant wandering, John had seen many wonders, but nothing to compare with what had just revealed itself before him.
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