The gates of the forest. The phrase comes immediately to mind, but Edwin’s not sure where he picked it up. It sounds like something from a book he might have read as a boy. The trees here are old, and enormous. It’s like stepping into a cathedral, except the underbrush is so thick that he has to fight his way through. He stops a few paces in. He sees a maple tree just ahead, large enough that it’s created its own clearing,
