The chamber they brought me to was still underground, but the roots in its ceiling had grown to cover every inch of the floor and walls. They had been painted with different shapes and colors, decorated with many strange and ancient patterns. Even the air felt different; it was sweeter and fresher, despite still being beneath the surface.

Matriarch Cedar was an old woman with severe lines etched deeply on her face. Everything about her was stretched and thin; her nose was nearly as ...