Ferry's incident didn't seem to spoil people's good mood. They were laughing, telling jokes, and having a great time together.

Mr. Finch and his family, Mr. and Mrs. Nosey, as well as Matilda and her father, were all guests at the Donovans' tent. And they were all praising Mrs. Donovan's cooking skills which seemed to always bring a big smile to her face.

Ferry would have liked to invite Ben as well. But for some reason, the Knights hadn't joined the others. They had their tent elsewhere, secluded from the rest. And no one visited. Nevertheless, they seemed to have the best time. Mrs. Knight was taking out of the basket all the good stuff: tarts in all shapes and colors, Turkish delight, apples coated in sugar, sugar candies covering the table like a joyful parade. The Knight parents were spoiling themselves with grape juice. And even an apple cider for Mr. Knight came out of Mrs. Knight's bottomless basket. In fact, colorful was the best word to describe the Knights — from colorful food to the most curious, jolly sweaters and trousers, all crocheted by Mrs. Knight in the brightest colors.

Mrs. Donovan eventually surrendered to Ferry's plea and allowed him to visit Ben and his family's tent. The boy was warmly welcomed by the whole family. The Knight girls greeted him with shouts of joy, as usual, while their mother lured him with the creamiest cakes he had ever seen. After indulging himself with all the delicious dainties on the table, Ferry thought it would be a proper time to ask Ben why he and his family were staying aside. Besides the contagious joy and noise that was always accompanying them, he couldn't see any other reason. But just when he was about to ask Ben, he saw him making silly gestures, trying to point at someone. Ferry saw May waiting near the tent, not daring to come any closer. In one leap, he was right beside her.

"Don't worry," Ben shouted behind him, "I'll tell Mum you had to leave." But Ferry was no longer hearing him.

"I hope you didn't hurt your hand too bad," said May when the boy was near her.

"Oh, it's just a scratch," he said. "The cup must have been broken. But I'm fine now."May smiled. "You know, my parents would like to meet you. I told them how you helped me find Cecilia's kite. And they would like to thank you."

Ferry nodded, and they both went to May's tent. As expected, the tent was entirely decorated with the most beautiful flowers. Garlands at the entrance caressed the guests' heads with delicate touches of chrysanthemum, and baskets adorned the table full of appetizers and cookies. There were flowers everywhere. Dahlias, autumn camellias, and late roses as well as field flowers, carefully seared, remembering the long-gone summer. At the end of the day, the Flowers were offering flowers to everyone attending the celebration.

May's parents were just as warm and bright as their daughter. Their tall statures, white complexion, and pastel-colored attires made them look otherworldly. They smiled at Ferry, and May's father shook his gloved hand repeatedly.

"You are welcome to stay in our tent for as long as you want," May's mother invited him.

"Thank you," he answered, "but my parents have been waiting for me for quite a while now so I must leave soon."

"Can I go with Ferry, Mum?" asked May.

"You can if you promise to take care of yourself. Are you sure you're not cold? Maybe you need another sweater..."

"I'm fine, Mum," said May, looking a bit uncomfortable. "I can take care of myself, don't worry."Iris Flower kissed her daughter on her forehead, watching her walking away with that thin, dingy boy. Who surprisingly emanated such warm vibrations around him, giving her the feeling that May would always be safe around him.

The two children arrived in front of Ferry's tent. On the hill, people were making the fire. Some fires could barely be seen from the bottom of the hill. Others were climbing boldly towards the sky, spreading sparks in the night's air. The logs crackled in different voices, calling people to find warmth and comfort near the jolly fires. The boys, especially the older ones, were jumping over the fires, a custom which was supposed to bring them good luck and keep them safe from bad spirits. The less courageous ones were staying aside, hoping that next year they would be among the bravest ones to jump over the fires to the girls' applause and cheers.

Ferry and May walked by the fire of the Knight family, where several children gathered, fascinated with Mrs. Knight's ghost stories. Miss Summer also joined them. Somewhere, in the middle, where the flames were almost touching the sky, the Pride and Haughty families were celebrating along with their guests. They weren't loud, but their celebration was the most luxurious of all. Their fire was surrounded by big torches which made the place as bright as daytime.

Ferry's father also set the fire. Although made out of dry brushwood and dispensable wood from his workshop, it was one of the jolliest. Several working and... drinking mates of Ferry's father gathered in a loud, cheery crowd. Their wives made a crowd of their own and talked about roast beef recipes, what was the best bleacher for clothes, and what dress Mrs. Pride was wearing when she visited the grocery store the other day. Ferry's mother looked happier than ever. Everybody was praising her meat pie, which eventually won the pie contest.

The darkness slowly fell over the hills, pierced by the bouncy flames. Ferry and May also joined the joyful crowd. They didn't have to say anything, anyway. Ferry didn't want the night to end. That's when he felt the raven's stone pulsing. He'd been keeping it with him the whole time on an old leather shoelace around his neck. The stone was pulsing in hot beats, accompanied by his heart. That's when he had an idea.

"Would you like to see the forest?" he asked May. The girl nodded, her eyes sparkling. Without anyone noticing, they ran down the hill; they were falling, laughing, then jumping back on their feet, and laughing again. When they'd reached the edge of the forest, Ferry invited May to sit on an overturned log.

The noise and fires were left far behind. The forest rose before them, mighty and silent. Not one noise, not a single wind blew. Only the moon rose above the trees, casting a pale light around. The clouds above suddenly scattered, setting the moon free. A flock of grey butterflies, as if detached from the moonlight, appeared out of nowhere. They flew in trembling whirls in front of the two children, dancing to music only they could hear. Then, they climbed high above and scattered like fresh snowflakes in the wind.

May was watching the show of the night, her eyes wide open. "Have you seen the big one in the middle?" she whispered. "It had the color of your hair. Did you know your hair is shining in the moonlight?" she added, looking at him as if discovering Ferry for the first time. "And that you have the moon and the stars on your forehead?"

Ferry smiled. May seemed to have a wide imagination, just as he did.

"I have sensitive skin," he said. "The doctor told my mum it has some funny hues when in the light."

Then he took off the raven's stone and handed it to the girl. "Watch the forest through this stone," he said.

May did as asked, and Ferry knew by the wonder on her face she was seeing the same magical things he did.

"Where did you get this toy?" she asked.

"It's a gift. And it's magical, did you know that?" he said without thinking too much. He felt he could tell May anything. "What do you see?"

"I see lights and colors I never knew existed." The little girl was laughing and giggling, trying to catch the light strips she could see through the magical stone.

 Suddenly, Ferry saw her throbbing. She was now frowning, holding her breath. She was seeing something—something different from the lights and the magical colors.

Ferry didn't have to watch through the magical stone to see it. A little girl. A little girl, maybe four or five-years-old passed them by like a shadow. Frisking and giggling as if playing with someone. Then she disappeared among the trees just as fast as she appeared. Only her sprightly laughter could still be heard for a few moments and then melted into the depth of the forest.

"Let's go back," said May, handing him the stone, barely breathing. "I want to go back!" she said, and she stood up, heading towards the hills. Ferry followed, also troubled by the strange apparition.

On the hills, the people were still celebrating. More than a dozen people gathered around his parents' fire. Some of them had brought guitars, violins, and flutes, singing jolly songs. Others were dancing, tapping the soft soil with their feet, without caring the soil would stick to their shoes.

"How about some ghost stories?" Mr. Williams suggested. He was a friend and working mate of Ferry's father. "I know a good one," he added pouring himself another glass of wine.

The music and dancing stopped, and the people sat around a cozy fire. Some of them had brought small chairs; others had brought blankets, while others were simply sitting on the warm ground around the fire. Ferry invited May to sit beside him on a blanket and gave her another one to wrap herself with. The girl seemed to be herself again, after seeing the strange apparition in the forest. She was now crunching roasted chestnuts like a small mouse. Ferry didn't see Matilda, silently watching them from the other side of the fire.

"One evening," Mr. Williams began his story, "the wife of a mate of ours who we all know too well and who is now missing because of a terrible cold which stopped him from joining us — What was I saying? Oh, yes! Mrs. Jacob, Simon Jacob's wife, was waiting for her husband one cold, gloomy night. The children were long asleep, and outside the storm was being unleashed. Suddenly, as Mrs. Jacob was to tell a neighbor of hers, she could hear a strange sound coming from the back door. As if someone was trying to come in. What was the poor woman to do? She grabbed the fire poker and headed to the door. When she opened it, she saw the filthiest, most disgusting creature that ever existed. It was all covered with mud, sitting on all fours while scratching at the door. The poor woman screamed so loud, the creature got scared. It spun around not knowing where to go, roaring and growling. At some point, it fell on its back, motionless. Mrs. Jacobs, who proved to be a courageous lady, bent over the beast to take a better look. What do you think she saw?" he asked, taking a break and watching his audience barely breathing.

Everyone waited, their hearts skipping random beats.

"It was her husband, Simon, dizzy because of one too many drinks he had at the pub," Mr. Williams ended his story between bursts of laughter.

After a moment of silence, the air was filled with everyone's laughter.

"What about the disappearances in the woods? Aren't those some sort of a hoax, too?"

Suddenly, there was silence. No one was laughing anymore. It seemed that Miss Summer, who asked the question, had also joined the jolly group.

"There's no such thing as mysterious disappearances around here, Miss Summer," Ferry's father said. He seemed rather uncomfortable with the question. "They're just old tales to keep children away from the forest so they won't get lost."

Then, silence fell again. With the forest so close, nobody dared to make jokes about it. They were all watching the fire without saying a word.

"Oh, but they are..." an old, rattling voice broke the silence. "The vanishings are real."

All heads turned towards the one who had spoken. It was Mrs. Mildred Cobbs. She was over eighty years old, maybe even older. She could barely walk or see, and she was always accompanied by Tootsie, an old maid, a niece of hers. Mrs. Cobbs' hair was always styled in a bun on the top of her head and her clothes, although old-fashioned and stale, still kept a tinge of her long-gone elegance. Her watery, dingy eyes were staring at the fire, without really seeing it.

"They are real," she repeated. "For my little girl, my sweet, precious, little girl vanished in that wood over sixty years ago. And I've never seen her ever since..." she added while tears fell from her almost dead eyes.

"I'm sure Poppy had the misfortune to meet a wild beast in the forest," her niece tried to comfort her. "You don't have to think about it anymore. It's been too long..."

But the old lady seemed relentless, "No, no! She's not dead. And there are no wild beasts in that forest. Not the ones we know of. But it will happen again... I can feel it. It will happen again, soon. And somebody else will vanish from the face of the Earth, just like my Poppy."

Then she watched the fire with a strange stare. She wiped her tears and said as calmly and as naturally as can be, "I can hear her sometimes when I pass by the forest. I can hear her laughing. Playing. I can't see her anymore, for my eyes had gone blind because of the tears I wept for her. I can't even follow her to the woods, for my feet are too tired because of so many paths I followed looking for her. But I know she's not dead. I know she's there, in the forest. And I know they took her away. They took my Poppy away..." she said, and her voice broke.

Silence fell again over the small group. Only the logs could be heard, cracking, consumed by the fire.

"Who?" a child's voice asked. "Who took her?" Pushed by curiosity, Matilda forgot she was not supposed to interfere in grown-ups' conversations.

The old lady stretched a trembling hand toward the forest. Her knotty finger pointed at the distant trees, but Ferry felt it was pointing at him.

"The Unseen..."

Sneak peek of the next chapter

May was feverishly looking for something. He would finally find a silk handkerchief with MF initials, spreading lavender scent. She unfolded it and took out an old, silver comb with a big, blue stone encrusted in the middle.

"It's a gift from the fairy I told you about," she said, caressing the comb. "It's the most precious thing I have. Because it's magical. But it's not for me..."

"What do you mean?" Ferry wondered.

"My grandmother told me the fairy gave it to her so that she would give it to her granddaughter. The fairy knew my grandmother was to have one granddaughter. Some fairies can predict future, you know? Then she said something odd, something neither I nor my grandmother could understand."

"What did she say?" asked Ferry, his heart skipping random beats.

"She said: Tell your granddaughter to give this to the moonlight boy when the time would come..."

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