The
door disappears as they step through, replaced by a row of bushes
sliding into place behind them. In front of them, more rows are
moving as well, as are bushes above and somehow, impossibly, below
them. There is row upon row of bushes, all moving in synchronised
chaos.
“Oh
my word,” says the guide, suddenly recovered from his nausea. “I
didn't believe this place existed.”
“Why?”
Raven demands, “Where are we?”
“I
thought this place was a myth,” the guide tells him, “A story
invented by one of the Fears to keep us all in line. I can tell you
one thing, if your girl is here, we'll never find her.”
“Why?”
Raven demands again.
“I
believe,” says the guide, “I believe we have found Escher's worst
nightmare.”
