“No, no, the ghosts live in the trees,” she said, waving my concern away. “Talia. In no way is that better.” “Maybe not, but it’s true,” she said, with a little shrug. “They slip through the tears in the veil, and then they affix to the brightest life they can find—which, here, happens to be the wood itself. Sometimes they stay for a long time, even centuries. Long enough for their inhabitation to distort the tree’s shape.”
Cool :o
