Beatrice had to focus on each of her steps to not stumble and fall on the uneven ground they were walking on. At the same time, Robert's words still lingered in the back of her mind. She had heard about the fairies from her mother when she had still been a child, tales that seemed to come from a different time. Or not only seemed to be, but really were. She had never asked herself what had become of them, too preoccupied with her own life, and now she was going to find out.

All she remembered was that they were magical creatures shrouded in legend. There were tales about people who had set out to visit them to ask for their help, and many returned happy and with their wishes fulfilled. But they had been bound to secrecy by them, so it remained undisclosed what kind of help they'd obtained from them. Those stories became less and less the longer the winter lasted until there were no new tales to share other than that the fairies had stopped receiving visitors.

"How far is it now?" Christina interrupted the silence.

"We're there any moment," Robert answered, and right on cue, the fog thinned around them, and they emerged onto a clearing. There was still enough moisture in the air to restrict their view, but it was obvious they had reached the destination of their hike. Single trees stood on the plateau otherwise covered in snow, littered with patches of muddy ground and ocher grass. The trees were leafless, yet still emitted an aura of former glory. Each one was home to a tree house, every one of those different from the others, artfully built to fit between arms and branches without having to prune the trees. Their walls were painted in pale colors that seemed to have faded over the years.

"I forgot to mention, don't comment on the tone of their skin," Robert muttered under his breath as a woman walked towards them.

"Why? What do you mean?", Marlene asked, but the woman was too close for Robert to answer without her overhearing them.

Beatrice immediately understood why Robert had said it. The woman, the fairy, that stood before them had a pale greenish face that left the impression that there was something wrong with her. As Beatrice looked closer she noticed her arms and hands had the same sickly skin tone. She swallowed back her curiosity and filed her questions away for later.

"Hello Robert. Strangers...," she greeted them with a nod. Her voice sounded hoarse, as if she had spoken too much lately - or too little. "You're looking for the magical melody, too, I assume."

Her gaze wandered from one girl to the next, and while the others managed to hold themselves straight under her scrutinizing stare, Beatrice lowered her eyes. A shiver ran down her spine. She felt as if the fairy could see right inside her and read her like an open book. It was as if she was being judged, and she felt a pang of guilt for being here for her mother's sake and not for the prince.

"Interesting," the fairy stated. "Now if you want to follow me..."

She turned around and suddenly, Beatrice was able to breathe freely again.

"That was strange," Christina whispered, clutching her throat with her left hand.

"You felt that, too?"

"Yes, just didn't want to show her."

They followed the fairy to the nearest cluster of trees. Beatrice observed the wings that grew out of her shoulders and hung limply across her back. They swayed sadly in the wind, all life drawn out of them. Nonetheless, they emitted a soft glow that she could easily imagine having once been a shining light.

"So, you will follow me up into this tree house one by one, and I will tell you what you need to know," she said as they stopped beneath a particularly high tree, with strong branches spreading in all directions. "You'll be first," the fairy decided and pointed to Beatrice.

"Thank you," she replied and tried to ignore the height as she climbed the rungs pegged to the trunk in uneven patterns. It became easier once she'd reached the branches, as her hands found better grip on them. There was no denying how relieved she was when she reached the tree house and stepped inside, testing its wooden floor. It creaked under her feet, but otherwise seemed stable enough to trust it. Once she was sure of that, Beatrice took in her surroundings.

The house was entirely made of wood, as was the furniture inside. Everything else was at least made of plants or other natural materials like stones and clay. A lot of vegetable dyes had been used to create the impression that all the colors of the rainbow had flown into each other in the making of the interior. The passion for detail was clearly perceptible, and it was a shame that the colors had faded to different shades of pale over the years.

"This looks beautiful," Beatrice mumbled, unaware she was speaking her thoughts out loud.

"Well, it has seen better times, I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you."

"You didn't. I'm Fiona, by the way."

"Beatrice. Beatrice Prior."

"So, have a seat, Beatrice."

Fiona gestured to a net that was dangling from the ceiling. It was entirely made of plant tissue and rope, and she had to unfold it to be able to sit inside it. It felt like a cocoon around her as it swayed softly from side to side after she had sat down in it.

"You're different," Fiona said after another one of her surveying stares.

Beatrice swallowed past her nervousness.

"Different? How?"

"You see, every single girl I led up here so far has immediately asked me for the melody they need to get. You, on the other hand, you take your time and pay respect to the place. And you don't ask me why I say that you're different, you just ask me in which way you diverge from them. That means you know you're different, somehow, though you may not yet understand how. There are things we have to figure out about ourselves by, well, ourselves. There is no worth in others telling us."

"I... I don't know what to reply, to be honest."

"That's alright. So, since you haven't asked yet: Why are you here?"

Fiona looked at her expectantly, as if she didn't already know her reasons.

"I want to learn one of your magical melodies, if you'd be so kind to share it with me, please."

Beatrice didn't know why it was so hard to ask for this. It felt like a step backwards in their conversation, as if they had shared pleasantries before and were now getting back to business. It didn't sit right with her.

"I'm sorry to ask you for this. I'm not looking to offend you or the fairies in general," she added to her request. "I respect that you're reluctant to share it with anyone, yet I still have to ask to learn one."

The silence stretched between them as Fiona took in her guest. It seemed to be a habit of hers, to take her time both with people and words.

"There is a common misinterpretation of our refusal to give away magical knowledge. We used to be much more generous with it, back in the days of summer and glory. We learned to be more careful about whom to trust. Our magic is worth nothing without blooming flowers and flourishing hope, so there's nothing we can do with our melodies to call the sun back to the sky. But there is other magic floating through this kingdom, dark magic, and we don't want to have our knowledge fall into the wrong hands."

The silence was so heavy now, so palpable, that Beatrice could hear her own heartbeat thrum in her ears.

"Since we can't deny the queen's order, we have adapted it to our needs. I will give you this," Fiona picked up a small silvery box from a shelf and handed it to Beatrice, who took it carefully in her hands to examine it. "This box is made of ferrunitium, an alloy created to withstand all physical attempts to break it. There will be no other way to open it and retrieve the melody hidden inside than to open the seven locks that hold it closed. They are bewitched, so again, there will be no way to open them other than with love."

"With love? You mean, the prince has to fall in love with one of us and then the box opens?"

"Yes and no," Fiona smiled knowingly. "There are exactly seven different kinds of love needed to open it, one for each lock. Seven kinds of love shared with seven different people."

"That seems a lot."

"It is. But the content is precious, so only those worthy of it will ever hear it. And when it opens - if it opens - only the owner of the box will be able to hear the melody. Everyone else who happens to be close by will just hear the wind freshen, nothing more."

Beatrice turned and twisted the little box in her clammy hands, trying to understand the concept of the challenge. She didn't want to get it wrong and accidentally ruin her chances.

"But how will the locks know when to open?" she eventually asked, hesitant.

"They will know, simply by detecting acts of love around them that are connected to you. The locks will open one after the other, so you'll know your progress."

However, Beatrice was thankful to have some time to sort out her thoughts and feelings while she was waiting for the others to finish their visits to the tree house. She walked around several of the other old trees, admiring how the fairies had managed to construct buildings in their crowns so high above the ground.

Their way back to Amity was a quiet one, as they all followed their own thoughts. Also, Fiona had made it clear that she didn't want her to speak about the subjects of their conversation, and she wanted to respect her wish. Still, it was difficult to do so when there were so many questions on her mind.

Apparently, Christina had the same difficulties.

"Hey, Beatrice," she whispered as the both of them had fallen behind a little. "That was weird, wasn't it?"

"A little," she answered evasively. She didn't want to break her promise to Fiona.

"She hardly said anything to me, you know? Just explained about the box and that was it. I thought perhaps we would get a little more from her, something more useful. All this talking about 'love and magic' was a bit squishy, if you ask me. I mean, do you know what to do now?"

"No, not exactly. I assume time will tell us."

"You've been up there with her much longer, did she give you a hint?" Christina asked hopefully.

"No, sorry. It was just... We were silent for a long while. It took her forever before she gave me the box."

Beatrice hoped that would be enough of an answer for her friend. She wasn't good at lying, but it wasn't really lying if she just left out parts of the truth, wasn't it? She had promised. But why had Fiona apparently told her more about the fairies than she had told Christina, or Lynn and Marlene, probably? Her impression that the other gils had spent less time with her than she had hadn't been just an illusion.

Lucky for her, they caught up to the others at that moment. Robert pointed to a small path leading away from the trail they were walking on.

"Girls, I will need your help now. Five minutes from here, we'll reach a meadow. We will look for roots there, the ones we make our holy drink for the weather ceremonies from. My aunt told me to bring some more, since we're running out of supplies. Just roll up your sleeves and dig into the ground. It's muddy, you won't need shovels for that. Once we have this bag filled with roots, we'll continue our hike and arrive just before sunset, I hope."

Beatrice was thankful to avoid any further questioning, and Christina didn't bring up the issue again in the evening, as they both fell asleep faster than they were able to say goodnight.