“Oath-breaker!”
I paused. The abuse didn't stop for a second.
A human being who talked and screamed and shouted non-stop would rapidly lose his voice. What about a tree? I didn't know. But I intended to find out.
“Liege-killer!”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Tell me about it.”
And he did, calling me every sort of vile name imaginable—and some I never would have imagined. Through it all I just stood there and nodded, smiling now and again, making encouraging noises at all the right places. Maybe all he needed was time to talk himself hoarse.
Well, let him! His words couldn't hurt me.
Finally, as he began to repeat himself, I decided to take a rest. I sat beneath its spreading branches, stretched out my legs, and gave a wide yawn. Wriggling my back, I found a comfortable spot against the trunk, leaned back, and shut my eyes.
Abruptly the abuse stopped. I opened one eye.
“Go on,” I said. “Don't stop.”
“What are you doing?” he cried.
“Taking a nap.”
“Stop it! Murderer! Help me, someone!”
“Go on,” I said sarcastically. “I love the sound of your voice.”
If anything, that seemed to enrage him. He screamed, shouted, threatened, and insulted me time and again.
Despite the constant stream of abuse, it actually did feel nice to relax. I could even fall asleep here…
Closing my eyes again, I pretended to snore.
After ten minutes, the cursing and name-calling came to a stop. Now the tree muttered the vilest of threats under its breath, promises to disembowel, behead, and boil me in oil—sometimes all at once.
Minor progress, but progress nonetheless. I continued to snore.
The muttering lasted another ten minutes or so. At last it grew silent. Had I outlasted it? Had its murderous rage finally passed? Would it talk civilly to me now?
Cautiously opening one eye, I peeked up at King Elnar's face. He stared down at me, frowning severely.
“Don't stop,” I said with a chuckle. “The music of your voice soothes my sleep.”
“What are you doing?” it demanded.
“Resting.”
“Why?”
“I felt like it.”
“Traitor!”
“Scream all you want,” I said, folding my arms behind my head and closing my eyes. “It doesn't bother me a bit.”
“Why not?”
“We're far from Ilerium. I don't have to worry about hell-creatures finding and killing me here.”
“Why not?”
“It's just you and me, old friend. No one can hear you, so go ahead! Scream all you want! Curse. Call me names. It doesn't bother me. No one can hear you. After all, we're alone in this world.”
“I don't believe you.”
“And I don't care.” I closed my eyes. This time, I almost did fall asleep.
When at last it spoke again, suspicion hardened its voice. “What do you mean, alone?”
“We aren't in Ilerium anymore, old friend. We're in a new world… an empty world. No people. No hell-creatures. Just you and me. And you're a tree.”
“You're a liar!”
I actually laughed. “I wish I had a looking-glass. You're not even a tree—you're a face stuck in a tree. Now that's funny! King of Shrubbery, I'll call you!”
“Liar!”
“Shrub!”
When it didn't reply, I squinted critically up at the twisted, gnarled trunk. Had my words finally sunk in?
“You're not even a very good looking tree,” I went on. Why not add insult to injury? “You're lucky I don't have an axe. I have a feeling you'd make better kindling than anything else.”
“Liar! Liar!”
“Don't you believe me?” I streched one arm up, caught a low-hanging branch, and broke off a handful of leaves with a twist of my wrist.
“Ow!” it cried.
“Look! You really are a tree, whether you want to admit it or not!”
“That hurt!”
“What hurt?” I demanded.
“My… my leaves?” A horror-struck look came over the face, as it realized what it had said.