Ferry wrapped his coat around his body and headed for the northern hills. It was a moist weather, although it didn't rain. A cold fog had fallen over the town, becoming thicker as Ferry approached the hills. It was Saturday at noon, but the sky was already dark, turning heavier and overwhelming, with grey clouds descending over the hills and continuing with the milky fog as they touched the ground.

Ferry carried a picnic basket with a thick slice of lamb steak, some smoked sausages and beer from Ben's father's supply. The Knights' pantry was never out of meat. Besides the shelves full of sweets, pickles, and compotes jars, there was a whole collection of salami, sausages of all varieties, ham, all smoked in the smoker in the backyard. Mr. Knight took care of everything; thus, at any holiday of the Knight family, meat in various forms, boiled, baked, fried, more succulent or drier, was not missing from the table.

Ferry reached the bottom of the hills at the same time with the fog. It felt heavy, touching his skin with wet, cold stings. He took out a thick woolen blanket and laid it on the ground. He sat down and took all the goodies out of the basket. Then, he waited.

He didn't have to wait for too long. The hill ahead came to life. It was as if Ferry was looking at his surroundings through the glass bottom of a bottle, all blurry, but definitely moving. Then, the bushes at the foot of the hill, with their few leaves remaining, also moved. And soon, there was a slight whistle which was getting closer and closer. HoityToity came out of the fog, with his unfailing hat and buckled shoes. He had a pipe in his hand from which he was puffing from time to time; then, he passed by Ferry without saying a word as if he had not seen him.

Ferry bit his lip to keep himself from laughing, watching the little man as he tactically walked through the grass, much higher than him. The leprechaun then turned as if he had only noticed him.

"Oh, greetings, Master!" he said, pretending to be surprised." I didn't see you standing there. To what do I owe the honor?"

"Hello, Hoity," said Ferry. "I was in the neighborhood and I wanted to see what you were doing. How have you been?.."

"Oh, how nice of you," Hoity said with a bow. "Well, I said I should go out for a walk. It's such a beautiful day," he said, looking up at the dark sky above.

"Indeed," Ferry pretended to agree. "Would you like to sit down?" he asked, making room for him on the blanket.

Hoity sat down, eyeing the goodies near him. Ferry smiled and invited him to taste it. The little man waved his hand as if he didn't need it, though his eyes glinted at the lamb slice from which a thick juice dripped in the tray. Ferry insisted, so Hoity grabbed the slice of meat and began to chew it. At first, as delicate as a maiden who tries to impress her suitors; then, his appetite grew as the famine was coming.

"But why this feast?" he asked, his mustaches full of grease.

"We haven't talked for such a long time," Ferry said. "And last night, I dreamt about Oona."

Hoity stopped eating, but only for a moment. "How did you dream about her?" he asked in a low voice.

"She looked the same ...  As we both knew her ... Happy and serene like the summer sky. Have you no word of her yet?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Hoity shook his head, "As if the earth swallowed her. She vanished right after things were disturbed in Tenalach by--"

"... by me," Ferry finished his thought.

Hoity nodded.

"But where could she have gone?" insisted Ferry.

"I think she may have left for Tir'na'Nog, the realm of eternal youth, together with that old lady from the world of humans and her daughter. If you come back from that place, there is no escape: wherever you go, the years will come upon you. You will lose your youth and die."

"I know Oona. She wouldn't have left for good without saying goodbye," Ferry said.

Silence fell, interrupted only by Hoity's munching. After devouring all the food and the bottle of beer, Hoity burped. He masked it with a cough because leprechauns, unlike dwarfs, always cared about their manners;  then, he lit up his pipe. The smoke smelled of cherry wood and fairies' tobacco. That particular tobacco did not smell as hard and foul as the ones of humans. It had a sweet flavour, sometimes spiced, blended with the smell of dried fruits and resin.

"How do fairies survive in the world of humans?" Ferry broke the silence. "And I'm not talking about changelings like me who don't know anything but the world of humans. I'm talking about the fairies that came from their world and had to live among people without leaving any suspicion."

"It's very hard," Hoity said in a tone that was meant to be of a connoisseur. "I'm glad I do not have to live in a world of humans but only to visit it from time to time. The people's realm is beautiful and just as alluring as it is ours to them. But it's also dangerous. This world weakens the powers of the fae. And there's also the iron. Its power overwhelms any fairy. It drains the vim out of them. Unless..."

And Hoity frowned, letting out the smoke that scattered into the mist around them.

"Unless what?" asked Ferry.

"Unless there is another fairy whose vim can be used."

"You mean like Saraid? The way she used the energy of her people to always stay young and beautiful?"

"Undoubtedly. Only that it can even be the other way around — there is a single fairy that gives the vim to several."

"And what happens to that fairy who gives her energy?"

"In the world of people?" said Hoity shaking his head. "That fairy will perish."

*

It was quiet at the Pride Mansion. A quiet that said a lot. The kitchen ladies were whispering. The family's driver was polishing the car with more diligence than usual. Mr. Albert Pride had returned from his business trip. Mrs. Pride had left her never-ending song from the basement and was taking care of things in the kitchen. Even Ol' Joseph was quieter and grumpier. 

Ferry was minding his own (he had to work extra hours to recover the money he had lost at the basket bidding), but his senses were alerted. The maze had to be trimmed more seldom now, ever since the foliage began to fade. Waiting for the snow to cover it, the maze looked deserted and lifeless.

In fact, the people and the place seemed to do the same thing: waiting.

One night, before leaving, Ferry saw the light in the last room on the third floor. And then he knew who everyone was waiting for.

The next day, the agitation grew bigger at the mansion. Flavors came from the kitchen, flavors Ferry couldn't guess. They were different from the smells of steaks or pies he was familiar with. That meant only one thing — the dishes were specially prepared for the mysterious guest on the third floor. Like all the hubbub in the mansion, it was all because of the same person.

Ferry was cleaning the maze of dried leaves and twigs. He had chosen a place so he could see the window that turned lit as the darkness fell. The wind was getting colder, and he had to blow his fists to warm his hands. His mother was right: he needed new gloves and scarves. But no matter how much he wanted to focus on his job (or anything else, for that matter), his eyes were always drawn to the lit room on the third floor.

"In your place, I'd stay away from trouble, boy," said the old gardener in a tone that, for the first time, seemed gentle to Ferry. "You are a good, hardworking young man and you care about others. Maybe a little reckless, and sometimes, a bit stupid. But your heart is kind. And I wouldn't want anything happen to you," he said, putting his hand on Ferry's shoulder. "I've seen many things in my life. Some of them, my mind couldn't understand. Others, I chose to forget. But I know one thing: don't make your life harder than you can bear. Your life has been turned upside down, anyway. Why make it even worse?"

Ferry nodded. Deep inside, he knew the old gardener was right. But that fire inside was burning so hot that not even the greatest flood could have extinguished it.

"I think I'm going inside to ask for a tea," he told him as if he had not witnessed one of the rarest moments Ol' Joseph opened his heart. "Or I'll freeze here."

And he started towards the mansion with a determined pace.

"A stone would have listened to me better," he heard the gardener muttering behind him.

Once inside, Ferry carefully bypassed the kitchen and walked upstairs. No one was around, a sign that the servants' access was strictly forbidden on the upper floors while the guest was visiting.

And yet, Ferry heard echoes of voices on the long corridors. As he approached the third floor, the voices became clearer. The door on the third floor was open. So was the last room's door. Ferry slid past the walls and hid behind a huge totem near the opened door. The voices of two men were coming from inside. He recognized one of them — it was that of Mr. Albert Pride. The second was of a younger man. But his voice was much stronger, more determined, more demanding even.

"So? Have you talked to her? Is everything all right?" the younger man asked. His words were accompanied by the sound of a pouring liquid and by the icy-sounding clink of crystal glasses. The two were toasting for something.

"I have ..." said Mr. Pride. His voice seemed uncertain. "She doesn't want to do it anymore ..."

"She doesn't want to do it?" the voice of the stranger shouted. She can't retreat," he yelled. "We have a pact! A pact signed with blood!"

"She says she's risking too much ..."

The man laughed. A burst of nervous laughter that gave Ferry the chills.

"How about me? Am I not risking? I've been risking everything for so long. The risk is the price of success. But how about you? Did you do everything right? Did you threaten her?"

Mr. Pride's voice seemed even more uncertain when he answered, "Yes, but even threats can remain unanswered. She says she wants a new deal. With fewer fairies ... Five, instead of ten."

Mr. Pride's response was followed not by a shout, but by a loud broken glass noise. The man must have broken the glass from which he drank.

"She is not in a position to make conditions!" he said with a tension in his voice. "It's not like I didn't give them anything in return. I give them one of ours every fifty years. Only young people. And children. We have an understanding that we must respect. And what do we get in return?"

Albert Pride seemed to lose his temper, too, "Is that what it means to you? A deal? A business? Is that all that matters?"

The man laughed, and the echo of his laughter filled the entire floor. "Well, come on, Bert ... If I didn't know you, I'd think you didn't want to do it anymore."

"What if I didn't? I've lost so much because of your covenant."

"You don't mean that, do you? This understanding of mine has given you everything you could possibly wish for. It bought you two wives and a son you could never have otherwise. This business of mine, as you call it, ensures a life without worries for you and another ten generations after you. They won't have to lift a finger their entire life. Without me, you're just a loser," he said, barely breathing.

There was a short pause, after which the voice of the stranger was heard again, more threatening, "The last time, we have failed, and had so much to lose. The Quest was canceled. I lost my partners and half my fortune."

"It was not my fault," Mr. Pride tried to defend himself.

"It wasn't your fault?" the man's voice thundered. "You had to make sure that boy wasn't minding our business. We should've known he was dangerous for us. By the way, I hope you take better care of him this time."

"Yes," said Mr. Pride. I always have him under my watch."

"Very well," the stranger calmed down. " In case you don't, this time, I have a back-up plan. I just had to bring help from... outside. Now, be a good boy and make sure things are arranged. Make sure there'll be ten of them!"

Mr. Pride came out of the room, his face whiter than a sheet of paper. Ferry had never seen him so intimidated and scared.

He heard the stranger's footsteps, a sign he was walking along and across the room. Then, he could hear a long squeak. And then, complete silence. Ferry waited for a few minutes which seemed like an eternity. He decided to get out of the hiding place, but instead of leaving, he started towards the room on the tips of his toes. He carefully looked inside. The room was empty.

So, we finally meet the mysterious guest on the third floor. Any theories? Can't wait :)