With the first light of dawn beginning to stain the night sky, we all rose early. Daneel set about feeding the animals in the byre. I had noticed that he had woken several times during the night to check the weather. By good fortune, the morning was partly cloudy. When he said he had business to attend to in the city, he mounted his peculiar steed—a creature that looked like some strange cross between a horse and a zebra—and rode off at speed.

  Arwa, meanwhile, beckoned me to her side and began my training as a healer’s apprentice.

  Fixing her gaze upon the forest-clad mountains stretching beyond the adobe house, she spoke:

  “Today I shall teach you how to use medicinal herbs, how to recognise certain illnesses, and how to prepare remedies from plants. Listen carefully to what I tell you about the herbs I gather from the forest. These lands have long been home to wise healers. Know this—nature is man’s most loyal companion. You must approach it with respect.”

  Determined to etch her words into my memory, I listened with great care. Yet she explained that some of the plants were not presently in our possession. She described their appearance, explained their uses, and promised that in the coming days she would show them to me.

  Afterwards, she turned to her daily tasks. The speckled goats needed milking, and cheese had to be made. I offered to help, but she gently refused, saying I ought to rest—or at least spend some time outdoors.

  At that moment, the idea of exploring the forested mountain took hold of me. I wished not only to see it for myself, but also to gather some of the herbs Arwa had mentioned and perhaps please her.

  Before leaving, I took one of the reed-woven baskets and a clay jar. Then I set off alone towards the mountain. Though it did not appear far, the journey proved longer than I had expected. As I approached the forest, I began to hear birdsong, the rushing murmur of water, and other sounds I could not name.

  This was the Ancient Forest. It had existed long before men ever set foot within it, and its presence could still be felt. The trees were so densely grown that sunlight scarcely penetrated the depths, casting an ominous gloom. I felt both peace and an inexplicable dread.

  I placed my hand upon the trunk of an old cedar and spoke inwardly to Siri:

  “Siri, check for any anomalies. Use whatever method you deem appropriate.”

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  “Insufficient data to determine the presence of anomalies. Additional data required,” came the familiar mechanical reply.

  A trace of disappointment stirred within me.

  “Continue gathering data. I have a feeling. Not everything in this forest is as it seems.”

  “No additional internal voices detected. Data collection ongoing. You will be notified upon completion.”

  I ventured deeper into the Ancient Forest.

  “Siri, create a new file for the medicinal herbs Arwa described. Using the knowledge in my memory, identify those you can and mark them. I wish to see them visually highlighted.”

  “Task initiated. Completion will require time. Please wait.”

  Within minutes, I sensed a change. As I walked, certain plants in my field of vision appeared outlined in a faint blue glow—those matching Arwa’s descriptions. I opened my basket and gathered marjoram, tarragon, sumac, coriander, rosemary, wild mint, thyme, basil, and sage. None were exceedingly rare, yet neither were they easily found without knowledge.

  Just as I was preparing to return home, I noticed a cluster of brighter pale-blue light that Siri had marked. When I approached, I stopped in astonishment. Before me grew beefsteak fungi—broad and tongue-shaped, their surfaces deep red and brown. When cut, they bled a dark crimson liquid like raw meat. Arwa had said they were beneficial for ailments of the heart and lungs—even for certain disorders of the mind.

  I cut them carefully with my knife, ensuring that the base remained intact so new fungi might grow in time.

  My baskets were full, and I began the journey home, pleased to have discovered the extent of Siri’s capabilities.

  “Siri, play Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley,” I said.

  At once, the song began to echo within my mind. Laughing softly, I danced along the forest path with my baskets swinging at my sides.

  But suddenly Siri’s voice cut through the music:

  “Anomalies detected. Small mists are forming and dissipating around the coniferous trees. Additionally, since the moment you collected the fungi, a non-human shadow has been following you.”

  A chill crept down my spine.

  “Siri… show me an image of the shadow following me,” I whispered.

  An image formed in my mind—roughly six feet tall, humanoid in shape, yet unmistakably not human. The proportions of its head were subtly wrong. The sight unsettled me deeply.

  “Is it still behind me?” I asked, my voice trembling.

  “Yes. It continues to follow you.”

  I dared not look back. It had not harmed me thus far, yet I did not know when—or if—it might. I continued to dance, hoping not to draw suspicion.

  “Siri, play Forever Young by Alphaville. Sing it with me. Today we conquer our fear.”

  The song swelled within my mind, and Siri joined me in mechanical harmony. I forced myself to keep moving, to keep dancing, to keep courage alive within me.

  Yet I could feel the presence drawing closer. The game was over.

  There was only one thing left to do.

  I began to run.

  The moment I broke free of the forest’s edge, the shadow stopped. It no longer followed.

  My heart pounded in my chest. I was afraid to turn around.

  But summoning what courage I could, I slowly looked back…