Ferry met Oona at the corner of the inn where the light of the street lantern did not reach. He was so happy he would have whistled if that hadn't woken the others. He felt as light as a bird in the sky. The little time he had spent with Matilda on the roof, without saying anything, just holding her hand, as if she had given him wings. Wings to believe anything. Now, nothing could stand in his way. Everything was possible.

"Has anyone seen you?" Oona asked in a whisper when she saw him.

"No. Sage was exhausted. He fell asleep immediately. And Parsley was sleeping in his chair when I left. Has anyone seen you?"

"Oh, it was easy for me," Oona chuckled. "I had to slip a few drops of valerian into their tea. They fell asleep instantly. Although I think Rosemary suspected something. But it was too late to fight back, anyway. "

"Oona, you can't give them sleeping potions without their will!" Ferry said, trying to keep his voice down.

"Keep calm, they are harmless. Besides, I wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose. Unless they annoy me very, very bad. But that rarely happens. "

Ferry shook his head. Oona's unpredictable nature was beginning to worry him. He never knew what she was thinking or what she was going to do next. With her, he always felt on the edge.

They both headed for the address of the poker house. The building was in a dark dead-end, in a neighborhood not very honorable, nor very safe, not far from the inn. Quite the opposite, in fact. Ferry could see how dangerous everything became as they stepped away from the neighborhood. On every street corner, there were two or more people talking or smoking, with their faces always hidden in the shadows. The streets were getting narrower, darker, and filthier. The stench of urine and trash was getting more intense. Darkness and whispers grew around them as they advanced toward the building at the end of the alley.

When they arrived, the street was completely dark, the only source of light coming from a  lantern hanging above the entrance of the house at the bottom of the street. The house looked old, but solid and imposing compared to the small, cramped houses around it. Oona turned invisible, but Ferry could still feel her presence close to him through the subtle scent of wild flowers.

He took a deep breath and knocked with the heavy lion's head ring on the door. The wooden door, swollen by rain and snow, opened with a long creak. Behind it, a man's head came out; he had a puffy face and a blurred look from the alcohol in which he probably sunk most of the time.

"Yes?" he said in a husky voice.

"I'm here for the poker game," Ferry said.

The man opened the door wide and Ferry came in. He felt Oona's scent coming in with him. He stopped in a dimly lit hallway. The man was grumpy and crooked. He looked at Ferry from the bottom up.

"Aren't you a little young for such games, boy?" he asked in a voice that betrayed too much tobacco.

"What does it matter how old I am as long as I have money?" Ferry replied, feeling the little money from his father he had in his pocket.

The man mumbled something Ferry didn't understand. "Follow me," he eventually said, barely moving in front of him.

He led Ferry into a saloon sunk into the same milky light that made all the furniture shrouded in fog. It was a large room crowded with massive pieces of furniture, decorated with leaf and fruit patterns. Ferry sat on one of the black leather armchairs. The air was heavy and smelled of tobacco, coffee, booze, and leather, and Ferry felt it heavy against his skin and shoulders. Several men smoked cigars and drank expensive drinks from crystal glasses. They were talking, sitting in armchairs or beside high tables, each with an ashtray. Everyone looked at him mockingly and laughed in his face. Ferry struggled not to betray his emotions, but one of his legs had already begun to tap a regular and nervous rhythm.

"You don't belong here," he heard a clear voice as coming from another world. He looked up and discovered a tall, thin girl, like a willow. He couldn't guess her age because of the thick layer of makeup that covered her face. She wore the shortest skirt he had ever seen, even shorter than Matilda's skirts and so tight that Ferry wondered how she could even walk. The blouse was also tight and so low-cut that Ferry had to look away. Her hair was as intense and shiny black as fuel oil. But her eyes were blue and gentle. She stared at him without blinking.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Sorry," she said, smiling. "I just haven't seen you around here. They're usually the same faces. "

"I'm not from the side of the place," he admitted.

"Have you ever took part in such games?" she asked.

"No ... Yes," he hurried to correct himself, feeling a kick in his foot; it looked like Oona was following the whole conversation from somewhere nearby. He had to look confident.

The girl was still watching him. "Forgive me for staring," she said. "It's just that you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It's like you're from another world ... "

Ferry forced himself to smile.

"Evie, leave the boy alone. He's out of your league " he heard the hunched man. "You better go and get him something to drink."

The girl rolled her eyes. "What would you like to drink?" she asked, and her eyes brightened.

"Do you have lemonade?" he asked. He had suddenly become very thirsty.

The girl laughed. "No. But I think I can make one for you, "she said, then left the room through a curtained door at the back of the room. Ferry wondered how she could walk on such high heels in such a tight skirt.

He could feel the anxiety again as other men entered the room, one more dubious than the other. But then he felt Oona's hand over his hand and the tapping of his leg stopped.

"Gentlemen, you are invited to the poker room," said the hunchbacked man as ceremoniously as he could.

"How could we do that, Joe?" asked one of the men who had hitherto stood in the corner, enjoying his drinks. "Shorty hasn't arrived yet."

"That's right," said another. "A poker night without Shorty is like soup. It may make your belly full, but it still makes you hungry, " he added, and the whole room resounded with the laughter and the roar of all the men.

The laughter was interrupted by loud knocks on the door. Joe walked to open it. He returned with a short man who seemed familiar to Ferry — he was the man with the crooked nose at the tavern. Ferry almost stopped breathing. The man was accompanied by two wide-shouldered big lugs. 

The man greeted everyone, then glanced at Ferry.

"I'll be damned, how small the world is," he grinned. "Look who we have here. The albino-boy, " he roared.

"Do you know each other?" Joe asked.

"Let's just say we had a small misunderstanding," Shorty replied without laughing, this time.

In the saloon, it was quiet all of a sudden.

"Well, let's go to the poker room, shall we?" Joe invited everyone. All man and Ferry followed him in other dimly lit corridors into a small room, with a single round mahogany table in the middle. Above it, a lamp hung from the ceiling that went down so that anyone could touch it with their hand. Even Shorty. Ferry was the last to enter. He felt his breathing become heavy from the moment he crossed the threshold - the room had only a door and no windows.

They all sat down at the round table. There were all seven players. Joe handed out the cards and everyone had to put the buy-in in the middle of the table. Ferry pushed his money to the middle with a heavy heart. It was the last money. If he lost them, that meant they stayed on the street for a few days. And from what Ferry noticed, the people of the Big City were dangerous. Shorty was on the other side of the table studying him, with a grin in the corner of his mouth which worried him even more.

The pretty girl came back with the drinks. The players lit their cigars and the thick smoke rose to the ceiling, staying there as storm-threatening clouds.

The game started. Ferry could see that everyone at the table had probably always played for large sums and not for nuts as once did. But Oona proved to be an effective spy. She named each player by the clothes they wore, so it was easy for Ferry to identify them. She still called Shorty "barrel," as she did the first time they met him at the tavern.

Things were going according to plan -- Oona was whispering to Ferry what cards each player had, so Ferry raised or bet accordingly. He easily won each hand, the pile of money next to him increasing with each round.

The other players shook their heads, marveling at Ferry's talent and his ability to read each hand. All but one. Shorty. The man did not lose sight of him, and Ferry felt waves of heat coming over him every time he dared to look into his cunning eyes.

Ferry won hand after hand. He reached the pot in no time. He decided not to force his hand. He had earned more than enough to live like a king for a week with his friends in the most luxurious hotel in town.

He raised from the table. "Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure. But I have to some important... business to do," he said, trying to sound as confident as possible.

"Not so fast," Shorty said, rising from the table. He then came to Ferry and measured him from head to toe from his short height. His eyes were sharp and his wide nostrils trembled. His face was red as a pepper, and his nose grew even wider on his face.

"How does a boy like you know all the tricks of a poker game? How old are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?" he asked.

"Twenty-one," Ferry lied.

"I have never met anyone who wins so many hands in a row my entire life. And believe me, I've been playing since I was a kid and I learned from the best. Who taught you?"

Ferry felt a trickle of sweat on his forehead. "My grandfather," he said in a trembling voice.

"Does your grandfather have a name?" I must have heard of him... Since he taught you so well, he must have been very good... "

"No-- He's not from here ..." Ferry stammered.

Shorty got even closer. Ferry could see the pimples and blackheads on his greasy face even in the dim light.

"Do you know what I think?" said Shorty. "I think you're a cheater, that's what you are," he added with clenched teeth. "And I'll prove it!"

And before Ferry knew it, Shorty pulled out a pocket knife and put it against Ferry's neck, slamming him to the wall next to the table. Ferry felt the cold blade of the knife run down his neck. He breathed heavier, not knowing how to control his trembling body.

"Oona," he whispered, but he couldn't feel her scent anymore.

"You used some tricks," Shorty hissed through his broken teeth, and Ferry felt his stinking breath on his cheek. "What is it? Mirrors in socks? Did you rig the table? What?" he shouted, sprinkling Ferry with splashes of spit.

"It's nothing, I swear," Ferry tried to escape, but realized that Shorty's two bouncers were blocking the door.

"Come on, Shorty, let the boy go," one of the men tried to relent him. "Take the money, if you want. But let him go... He's just a kid... "

"Not right now," Shorty grinned again. "Let's have some fun, first," he said and brushed the hair on Ferry's forehead with the side of the knife. Then he discovered his pointed ears. "What the hell are you?" he asked, frowning.

He then withdrew, but Ferry clung to the wall with his heart pounding in his ears. "Search him everywhere!" he ordered the two bouncers.

The men rummaged in Ferry's pockets and discovered one thing, the most precious thing Ferry had on him -- his mother's wristwatch.

Shorty grabbed it and lifted it up in the dim light. The small diamonds on the dial sparkled.

"Look what we have here... I think I'm getting something suspicious about this ..."

Ferry felt the room begin to spin with him. "Please," he begged. "It's from my mum ..."

"Please ... It's from mum," Shorty imitated him mockingly, bursting out laughing. "What would your mummy say if she knew you're doing this?"

Ferry thought of his mother and his heart broke. A tear ran down his cheek. She would have been so disappointed with him... Ferry realized he was stuck to the wall. It would have been easy to get to the other side if he could get through the wall... But what would he have found to the other side? And what if he put the world of those like him in danger? Those people were capable of anything.

He didn't have time to think. Shorty stepped closer again. "I wonder ..." he said, "I wonder how much someone would be willing to pay for someone like you? You're a freak. But freaks are in high demand in this world that gets bored so quickly. Maybe I should keep you here and sell you to the one who offers the most ... " he hissed again through his dirty teeth.

"Come on, Shorty," Joe said, "this is kidnapping. I don't need any problems here ... " he said.

But Shorty doesn't even notice. "Tie him up!" he ordered the two jocks.

The men pulled out a string each and stepped closer to Ferry, who was trying in vain to control his heavy breathing and crazy heartbeat. But then he saw one of the ashtrays raised in the air and thrown violently into the head of one of the men. He fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. All the other men turned aside.

"What-- What's going on?" Joe shouted, really frightened.

"It's one of his tricks," Shorty growled, pulling out the knife again.

But he didn't take two steps, as the heavy marble ashtray rose again and slammed into the top of his head. Shorty proved to be more resilient and tried to get up, blood dripping down his face.

The ashtray rose again, and this time it broke the light bulb above the table. The room was filled with shouts and uproar. Ferry felt Oona's warm hand gripping his and pulling him out of the room and out of the house.

"Quick, turn unseen!" she whispered through gasps.

Ferry thought of Matilda and her pretty face on the broken roof, the other day. Behind them,  the two heavy men and Shorty were running. Oona pulled him to the cold wall of a house and pressed her hand to his chest, pasting him against the wall. The three men passed them as if they were not there, swearing beneath their breaths.

Ferry felt his heart pounding under Oona's palm and a shiver ran through his body. They waited a few moments until the three men returned, passing them again. Then he felt her light hand come off his chest and he saw her rosy cheeks beside his. He also became visible. From the folds of her foamy dress, Oona pulled out Eileen's watch and a handful of banknotes, her eyes twinkling. Ferry didn't know whether to thank her or be upset with her for the trouble they were in. Although truth be told, he also had his fair share of blame.

"It was close," he said, trying to catch his breath.

"We had fun today, didn't we?" Oona chuckled, looking at him intently with her big eyes.

"Yes... But don't let it happen again, alright?" he said, suddenly feeling dizzy from everything that had happened. 

***

That night he slept so deeply, not caring that the mattress was full of dust, that the sheets had not been washed for years, or that the room smelled of cat urine. He wasn't even bothered by Sage's snoring, who was still asleep when he returned to the room, late at night. Parsley hadn't moved, either, dozing in his chair.

The next day, it was past ten when he awoke. He was alone in the room. He got dressed quickly and went down to breakfast. He was greeted by Mrs. Muffin, who saved a glass of milk and a cookie for him, even though the others had finished breakfast a long time ago. She handed it to him, glancing from under her false eyelashes that clung to her real eyelashes like spiders.

When he went down to the backyard, he found Parsley and Rosemary working hard in the front garden, with Oona keeping them company. Thyme had not yet returned. And Matilda and Sage were missing again.

Oona smiled and waved at him as she saw him. "Finally, you decided to wake up," she said in the sweet, soft voice he knew so well.

"Oona told us about yesterday," Parsley said.

Ferry was about to choke in the milk he had just sipped. "Did she tell you?" he asked.

"Why didn't you tell us you got the money?" Rosemary asked.

Ferry swallowed hard. "I thought you'd be upset that--"

"Why would he be upset that you found work as a dishwasher in one of the largest restaurants in town?" Oona lied without blinking.

"Oh, that ..." Ferry said, playing her game.

"Matt and Sage will no longer have to work in that filthy tavern. And we will be able to move from here. I'm beginning to think I'll never be able to get the cat's smell out of my hair, " Rosemary complained.

"Well, let me tell you, I'm sure Sage doesn't mind being alone with Matt for so long," Parsley said, immediately receiving an elbow from Rosemary.

"Anyway, it's a beautiful day," Rosemary said. "How about we spend it in the park? I saw a nice one nearby. "

Ferry nodded, reluctantly. He barely saw Matilda the past days. And every time he did, Sage was always around, like her shadow. He had promised her parents that he would always take care of her, Ferry knew that. But that didn't mean he had to endure his presence every time he wanted to be alone with her.

They were to meet that day, however, because they had arranged for everyone to meet in the park at noon.

The weather was beautiful when they arrived at the park. It was Saturday and people were enjoying their free time and fine weather. The park was old, traversed by a trickle of murky water on which frogs croaked. Weathered stone bridges crossed the stream, each adorned with gargoyles with puffy eyes and cascading mouths, with roses and stone leaves. The alleys were clean and wide, bordered by chestnuts and old maples. The park vibrated with voices, laughter, the chirping of children, the shouts of street vendors, and people roaming everywhere. In the middle of the park, laid a large and quiet lake laden with water lilies on which floated a few swans. Wooden benches surrounded the lake, most of them occupied by old people who watched with tired eyes at the life and youth around them.

Parsley and Rosemary walked in front of him, talking and laughing. From time to time, their hands touched as if by mistake, and Rosemary flustered as Parsley bowed his head, pretending to search any stone in his path with the only eye he had left. Oona was standing next to Ferry, showing him a wild duck, a child on a bicycle, a strangely shaped cloud, lost in the deep blue sky. He saw her hurrying to a peddler's cart and returning with cotton candy for everyone. The cotton had pale pink color, and it seemed to float in Oona's fragile hands, just like the fluffy clouds above them.

But there were too many people for Ferry's taste. And maybe a little too hot.

He found a more secluded bench, somewhere under an old willow tree, where he could enjoy the cotton candy in peace. Cool currents came from the lake and Ferry closed his eyes, touched by the soft breeze. Last night stayed somewhere far away, more blurred and fading with each passing moment.

Ferry closed his eyes and felt a pleasant easiness. He felt numb, still sluggish after last night. He didn't know for how long he'd been dozing. He felt a shadow in front of him, even with his eyes closed. He opened his eyes and discovered Sage.

"Sage, you're sitting against the sun," Ferry muttered, closing his eyes again.

But Sage threw a newspaper in his face. "Read this," he said coldly.

Ferry read it. It was an obscure article in the local newspaper that mentioned an incident in a "respectable house" whose protagonist had been an "albino boy" who had brought with him several inexplicable phenomena in the same "respectable house." A few sentences, however, had caught his attention, written in bold: the boy had disappeared without a trace with a large sum of money.

The newspaper shook his hands. He met Matilda's questioning gaze and looked down.

Parsley and Rosemary also read the paper.

"Is that true, Garrett?" Parsley asked in a trembling voice. "Did you steal that money? Is that why you have so much money? "

Ferry rose to his feet. "I didn't steal that money, Parsley," he said firmly. "I won them at a poker game."

"You mean you were in that house?" With those people? " Rosemary asked and Ferry read the worry in her voice.

"And that's nothing," Sage continued in the same hoarse tone, "it looks like those people are some of the most well-known and feared people in the area. I heard about them in the tavern. Shorty, their boss, is not a joke person ... "

Oona slipped the middle of them. She took Ferry by the hand. "It's not his fault. If you need to be upset with someone, be at me. I persuaded him to do it, " she said, raising her chin.

"The paper doesn't mention anything about you," Parsley said.

"That's because I went unseen and helped Ferry win," she said, though not so confidently.

"You mean you spied? That you used the fairy powers for your own gain? That you used them to help him cheat? " Sage's voice resounded. "The Book of Fairies--"

"The Book of Fairies is just a piece of paper with old laws that don't even make sense in the fairy world, let alone the human world," Oona shouted, staring at Sage.

"That's not the point!" Sage shouted back, unimpressed by her reaction. "You exposed our world to people. To dangerous people, go figure! Where was your head, Garrett? " he shouted, turning back at Ferry.

"What was I going to do, Sage?" Ferry shouted back. "Should we wait to stay on the streets in this world full of opportunists and cheats, and thieves? We did it for us. For all of us."

"Maybe you should use your head first and stop listening to your girlfriend," Sage said.

"There's nothing left to do now," Parsley said, trying to calm them all. "We just have to be more careful. And let's try not to draw attention to ourselves ... "

Ferry shook his head. He looked at Matilda, who said nothing all this time but remained on the side. But her gaze said a lot. Ferry would have preferred her to yell at him. To shout and scold him. To even pushed him with her small palms and shook him a little. Anything but looking at him like that. But she said nothing. Her silence was more painful than all the shouts and complaints around him.

He turned his back on them all and wanted to leave.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" he heard Sage's barking voice behind him.

"Somewhere away from you. As far away from you all as possible, "Ferry said, walking away.

He tried to avoid the crowd which turned out to be quite difficult. People began to stare at him, whisper, and even point at him. Ferry hurried, clashing with people, stumbling over stones that appeared in his path as if out of nowhere.

He managed to get out of the park, which was becoming more and more crowded, and took it randomly on the streets, without a  target. He felt everything around was turning into a world of cards, crumbling with every step he took. He avoided the boulevard and the crowded streets. He woke up on a deserted street that smelled of trash and feces. He thought he heard footsteps behind him and looked back a few times. He decided to become invisible but realized he had failed when he passed by a dirty store's window and could still see his reflection. All he could see around him were stones, bricks, and filth. And the sun was too far away, hidden in the clouds. He had nowhere to take his strength from to transform. Thyme was right -- his abilities were limited where people had driven nature away. Ferry took a step back, trying to find his way back to the Bed & Breakfast. The echo of his footsteps resounded louder. He turned his head and saw two big men following in his footsteps. A third, more stingy, joined them from a neighboring alley. Ferry recognized them -- they were Shorty and his mates.

Ferry began to run, but his legs didn't seem to listen, barely moving. So the men reached him in no time. He cornered Ferry near the damp, moldy wall of a house. Shorty came closer to him, with the same menacing grin on his face.

"My, my, we seem to meet again," he roared.

And before Ferry could do anything, he punched him so hard in the stomach that Ferry fell to the ground. The pain paralyzed his body and he remained there, crouched in pain.

"Did you think you could get rid of me so fast, pale-face?" Ferry heard a voice in the back of his neck. "Where's my money?" he shouted.

Ferry tried to get up, but the pain in his stomach made him bend again. "I don't have it, I swear," he moaned.

Then he felt Shorty's hand clasp around his neck and lifting him off the ground. He tried in vain to gather his power and fight back. But the fear was stronger and it weakened him. Ferry would never have imagined that there were such people in the world. That this world he thought he knew so well was collapsing like a castle of playing cards.

He was waiting for the second blow when he heard a strong and calm voice somewhere nearby.

"Let the boy go! Now!" commanded the voice.

Ferry tried to catch his breath. He recognized his savior. Thyme. Shorty knocked him to the ground by the shattered slabs. He hit his head on a cornerstone during the fall and the pain took over his eyes for a few moments. He heard thuds and snarls around him, then some squeaks, as if the air had been split.

"What on Earth are you?" he heard the choked voice of one of the men.

"Leave!" Thyme's voice echoed. "Leave if you don't want to become one with the dirt!"

The men's footsteps receded.

"It's not over yet!" Ferry heard Shorty's voice somewhere in the distance.

Then he saw the shiny black corner of Thyme's cape and felt his strong arms lifting him off the ground.

"Let's go, Garrett," he said. "We are leaving this world. Now."

Well, Ferry got into trouble, as usual. What do you think about this chapter? Leave your thoughts in the comment section and, as always, don't forget to vote. Love lots!