The Ensouled Tree

Josh looked up at the clock. 7:30! He scooped up the book and squeezed it into his knapsack. It barely fit. Did he pack too much? No time to reconsider. He cleared the table, did last-minute tasks, wrote his father a note explaining what he was doing to do and why, then swung the bulging knapsack onto his back. He grabbed his stout walking stick and moved to the back door. Josh stood there, hand on the doorknob, and closed his eyes. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to attempt to go back centuries, cope with mysterious and powerful beings in the vague hope of finding his sister? And if he found her, what then? Perhaps they'd both be captive, or killed. He was only fourteen years old. Not physically strong, or at least not unusually so. Intelligent, yes. But intelligent in his own culture, his own world. Would his intelligence be enough in that unknown, yes, unknown world that might await him? He'd packed things from his own world that might help him, but would they be enough?