Lake

Nothing disturbed the smooth surface of the lake. The sun had already set behind the trees, bathing the sky in a golden-red glow. From somewhere in the distance, a vigorous clattering sound came. The air was dry and cool, tingling with the scent of autumn. Yes. Autumn was coming. This year, exceptionally early, but... Who knows what Mother Nature's intentions are? People insult her enough with their smog, fumes, and the belching from hundreds of thousands of exhaust pipes. If there were still historical justice in this world, nature should do something about it, repay humanity for decades of insults and torment.

Such grim thoughts ran through Henryk's mind as he strolled through the grounds of the resort. The small beach was tightly enclosed by eight small wooden houses. Behind them was a large square, which, during the season, took on a vibrant color from dozens of colorful tents. The volleyball court was covered in a layer of yellowing leaves.

"It's over, Saba," he said, stroking the neck of his ten-year-old German Shepherd companion. The dog walked obediently at his heel, sniffing and wagging its tail.

He returned to the beach. He scooped the last of the season's trash from the sand: a candy bar wrapper, a plastic cup, and a bag of shelled sunflower seeds. He tossed everything into a metal bucket. He dusted off his hands.

"Autumn is coming. There will be no vacationers. There will be no children. No more fun, unfortunately, my dog, no more throwing rubber rings. There will be snow, frost will harden the lake. Maybe we'll go ice fishing, like three years ago..."

He stepped onto the wooden jetty. He carefully examined each plank, but all were in perfect condition. After all, he had replaced most of it himself last spring. Of course, there were more signs like "Holiday 2005, I was here. Józek F." or "Beer is my fuel. Greetings to all alcoholics from Primary School 13," scratched with a penknife or scribbled in marker, but he didn't mind. He'd gotten used to it.

The rounds were over. Although... There was still the Kiliński cottage. Tucked away in the forest, a hundred meters behind the center, it wasn't formally under his care. Henryk, however, would visit it from time to time, at the request of engineer Kiliński, who was a very kind man. Even the first summer he'd come for a vacation with his entire family, he'd gained the caretaker's affection. An intelligent, witty man. He didn't overdo it with alcohol, though he didn't shy away from it either. He loved his women: his wife and daughter. When he laughed, something sweet filled his soul.

He looked toward the cottage. The last rays of the setting sun were peeking through the upstairs windows. Henryk had been there. A week earlier.

Memory licked his mind with its rough, wet, icy tongue. He didn't want it. He begged God to let him forget. About this... hallucination.

Saba growled, alarmed. She stared into the impenetrable depths. Regular circles appeared on the navy blue surface every few seconds. Fish. They dart at sunset, Henryk thought. He stared at the empty windows of the Kiliński cottage. Why had he gone there? He remembered the faint remnants of a dream, clinging to him like wet rags, when he woke up and felt that something had happened in the cottage. He remembered the engineer's last words, which he had thrown from the car window as he drove away last autumn: "Take care of my cottage, Henio." "I'll be there," he shouted back, waving his hand. He had promised. So he took the keys, after a moment's hesitation, grabbed a long fish-scaling knife, and set off. The cottage stood as if nothing had happened... Only that silence. He remembered. Silence, no birds, no morning trills. He couldn't feel the wind on his skin. All around – perfect emptiness. He opened the door and went inside. Nothing. The smell of a room that hadn't been aired in a long time. A modest living room connected to the kitchen. Stairs up. And a scratch in the carpet... A scratch? He hadn't seen it before. He could have sworn. He pulled back the carpet. A trapdoor. A basement? Engineer Kiliński had never mentioned anything. He went downstairs...

Henryk buried his face in his hands. No! He had to fight these memories. If he gave in, he'd lose his mind. He knew it. He whistled for the dog and stepped off the catwalk. He had an emergency bottle hidden in the cupboard above his bed. For special occasions. This was one of them.

The strong vodka burned his esophagus. Better. He locked himself in his cubicle. He turned on the light, and the sad bulb flickered and went out. Henryk cursed, put the bottle down, and slammed his fist on the switchboard. The light came back on.

"Goodbye, evil spirits," he said, sucking on the bottle. A pleasant warmth spread through his body, drowning unpleasant memories and drowning his conscience.

In a sense, the words the engineer had spoken to him as he was leaving were his last wish. Henryk, screaming with terror, slammed the hatch shut as he fled. A few days later, when he had recovered and decided it had all been a hallucination, he dared to return and unroll the carpet again. He heard nothing. No scratching, no knocking. Laughing at himself, he carefully adjusted its edges so that they perfectly matched the dust on the floor. So that no one would suspect a thing. Closing the door, he cursed himself for being foolish and cowardly. That evening, sitting on the jetty, dangling his legs over the water, he thought that a rat might have burrowed in there, or something... He should have killed the damn thing before it caused any damage. And he fled, afraid of the shadows. He had failed in his duty, failed in the engineer's will... His last will.

Engineer Kiliński had hanged himself in his office. Less than two weeks after leaving the lake.

Another sip. Excellent vodka. A rat? Let him roam. Cheers. Also a creature of God. Henryk petted Saba, lying at his feet. Let him roam... And he needs to go to the doctor sometime, have his head checked. Shameful, a fifty-year-old man hallucinating.

š

The car lurched once again on the forest road.

"Damn it, Krzysiek, slow down a bit!" Marta shouted. More than fifteen minutes had passed since they'd left the asphalt road and let themselves be swallowed by the forest depths. Twigs scraped furiously against the windows.

"Relax, we're almost there.

" "I thought the cottage was next to a holiday resort," Kes said.

"Isn't it?" the boy asked, jerking the steering wheel. Luckily, they'd avoided an exceptionally deep ravine.

"It's down, it's down," Marta muttered. "It's just that no one wants to restore the road." If memory serves, three years ago, someone brought up the topic at the end-of-season bonfire. Everyone applauded, patted each other on the back, and went back to chewing sausages.

Krzysiek smiled and moved his hand from the gear shift to Marta's smooth knee.

"Honey, we're on vacation. Leave the sarcasm to the city's frustrated slobs; you came here to relax.

" "We'll talk when you choke on a kebab and have to call an ambulance," she replied, but the tension had vanished from her voice. She patted the boy's hand. "Now, be careful, there's a sharp turn."

When they entered a wide clearing, the sun was high in the sky. The resort grounds were enclosed by a wooden fence. They stopped in front of the caretaker's hut. A hunched-over man, who looked to be at least sixty, approached them. He was holding a massive German Shepherd on a leash. Marta leaned forward and waved cheerfully.

"Good morning, Mr. Henio! I've come to say goodbye to my vacation."

"Oh, good morning! I didn't recognize her at first. Isn't it too late for a rest?

" "It's still warm, there's over a week left until the academic year starts. I thought I'd take my friends and we'll drop by for a few days... Is anyone else?

" "No, Martuś, everyone's already left," he said, leaning down to pet the dog.

"Then we'll be alone. Nice too! "

The caretaker opened the gate.

"

Martuś, it's simply beautiful here," Kes said, walking around the interior of the cottage. She took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of wood.

"Right? Peace and quiet, not a soul around. Just us and the forest," Marta replied, tossing her heavy bag onto an old but comfortable sofa. "Krzysiek! You could help the women!"

The boy's feet clattered on the stairs leading upstairs.

"You could kill yourself, it's so steep," he said.

"And how do you like it upstairs?

" "The terrace is divine. I fell in love with that rocking chair."

"Duties first. Here," she tossed him the car keys. "There are two more bags and baskets of food in the trunk. Until the rest arrive, you're the only man here. Do your duty.

" Krzysiek hurried to the car. He grimaced at the mention of "the rest." Yes, yes. Tofik and Michał were supposed to join them in the evening. He actually liked Tofik; they'd been to several parties together and even understood each other. Michał, on the other hand... Marta had been talking about Michał a bit too often lately.

When he finished unloading, he descended the narrow steps to the lakeshore. Well, well, he thought, they even have a jetty. First-class work. Solid work: The neatly cut, carefully planed planks formed a five-meter wedge, jutting into the lake. He took off his shoes and rolled up his pant legs. He wanted to check the water temperature. It wasn't as cold as he'd expected. If he insisted, he could still swim... In the clear water, he spotted a few fish. I wonder if they have a fishing rod here? He inhaled deeply of the humid, seaweed-scented air. Oh, yes. Wonderful days were ahead. The lush, vibrant greenery, as much as the blue sky, fascinated him enough to forget his conventional worries. Even jealousy vanished, swallowed by the silvery depths. Only Marta's cry roused him from his reverie. She was calling for dinner.

The

luggage was in its place. The rooms hadn't been assigned yet; that would have to wait until Michał and Tofik arrived. The kitchen shelves groaned under the weight of hot mugs and soups from Taiwan. Essentials like butter, cheese, and cold cuts were crammed into the wing of the refrigerator; its entire interior was crammed with beer bottles. In short, a typical student menu.

After swallowing the last bite, Krzysiek asked,

"Is there a fishing rod here?

" "There is... I think so." Look in the closet by the door. What, you want to supply us with food, as befits a man and leader of the herd?

"Not exactly. I wanted to scratch my left ear in an unconventional way.

" "You're so witty, your humor has sharpened in this remote place," Marta said, finishing her coffee.

"More oxygen, sweetheart. That explains everything," he replied, kissing the tip of her nose. Kes, seeing this, smiled up from her book. Such subtle conventions amused her, warm and sincere. Sometimes, watching their games, she felt her faith in love rekindle within her. Pure, untainted, and faithful.

Krzysiek disappeared through the doorway of the cottage. After a moment, they heard the sounds of something heavy being shifted, a muffled groan, and finally a clap of thunder, as if someone had dropped a bale of cotton on the floor. The girls looked at each other and, amused, shrugged.

"I've got her," Krzysiek said triumphantly, emerging from the cottage. He held a folded fishing rod in his hand.

"Just be careful. It's not ours, it's my aunt's from Radom. He likes her very much.

" "Don't worry, I'll be careful."

He ran to the jetty. The girls cleaned the terrace, and Marta, tired from who knows what, settled comfortably in the hammock. Kes, also feeling increasingly sleepy, migrated upstairs and settled into a rocking chair. Lulled by the wind, she fell asleep.

Neither of them heard the soft rustling beneath the living room floor.

Krzysiek

was also dozing, mesmerized by the sound of water and the gentle breeze caressing his cheeks. The day was unusually warm, more like summer than autumn. Before settling comfortably on the jetty planks, he noticed a metal rope tied around a tree growing on the shore. It was as if a boat were moored there. He daydreamed: how wonderful it would be in the evening, when the sky was filled with sparkling stars, to take Marta and sail out to the middle of the lake... Just them and the stars. Silence, enveloping them on all sides. He would have taken her in his arms and kissed her, whispering words that only darkness can extract from human lips, for spoken in daylight, they seem colorless and soulless. Staring at the float, he allowed himself to be enveloped in dreams. He fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the boards, curled up like a newborn. His cheeks burned with heat. The fishing rod, of course, was gone. He jumped up with a cry. It had been a mistake; he felt dizzy, and he had to hold on to the wooden ladder to avoid falling into the water. What to do? He stared at the silvered surface. There it was! The fishing rod was drifting majestically, about thirty meters from the shore.

It was a very quick decision.

He stripped off his clothes and jumped into the water. Icy needles nearly tore his flesh. For a moment, he thought he wouldn't make it; a black veil fell over his eyes. But the shock passed. With energetic arm movements, he swam toward the fishing rod, trying not to think about the fact that the water temperature certainly wasn't above twelve degrees Celsius. He heard a scream. It was Kes. She was standing on the upper terrace, waving her arms. He swam on. Just four more meters, three, two... He caught her. He turned back with a nimble movement. Something slippery brushed his thigh. Something disgustingly long and slippery. He picked up speed. He felt liquid fire in his lungs; he hadn't swum in a long time. The shore was terrifyingly far away. Marta ran out onto the jetty. She was holding a towel and shouting something. He couldn't hear; the water was pounding him in powerful waves. Suddenly, he couldn't catch his breath; it rushed into his mouth. He choked, his breath boiling. Something brushed against his legs again, longer this time. He felt the slippery skin wrap around him, tightening, the slimy muscle around his calf. He shuddered, sending up a fountain of foam. He let go of the fishing rod. He dove, trying to free himself from the hideous weight. Kes was screaming too. What was that?! He was drowning. The sky disappeared, closed in by the water. The lake slammed its gates shut above him. He writhed helplessly, trying to wrench his leg from its slimy embrace. He was losing air. His lungs were empty, drained dry. Finally! He had succeeded. Whatever it was, it had given up. Krzysiek threw his arms out in front of him, but his right arm went limp, dangling like the stump of a mannequin. He screamed underwater, forcing out the last droplets of air. He was over two meters from the surface. He gritted his teeth and flailed. Icy water was everywhere, overwhelming him with thousands of tiny needles. No! No! He wouldn't make it... And then he saw the sky again. He gasped for air. For over a minute, he floated in one spot, trying to catch his breath. He regained feeling in his hand. The fishing rod drifted two meters away. He grabbed it, nearly breaking the delicate wood. With his last bit of strength, he swam to the jetty and climbed the slippery ladder.

"God, what happened to you?! What were you thinking, swimming in this cold?"

He breathed. A rough towel restored his circulation.

Marta led him upstairs, scolded him, and gave him hot tea with rum. He lay there, still unable to catch his breath. Buried in the blankets, he heard a distant honking.

It was Michał and Tofik.

š

"Hello, locals," Michał smiled, unloading a case of beer from the trunk. He carried it to the kitchen. "Wow, the cottage is first-class.

" "Hello," Kes greeted him, offering her hand. He kissed her with exaggerated gallantry. The girl blushed.

"Tofik! Where are you hiding?" he roared, making the trees tremble. "Come on, you jerk, say hello to your friends."

Tofik's face emerged from behind the car. The boy was clearly embarrassed. The enormous bag practically weighed him down. He grunted a shy "hey, girls," then disappeared into the cottage. Marta heard a dull thud. He'd probably fallen on the carpet.

"Where's your boyfriend, kid?

" "He had... a short adventure in the water. He's relaxing upstairs.

" "What adventure? Is he still a tenner?" he asked with dramatic concern.

"He'll be fine. Do you want some coffee, tea?

" "I just brought everything a real man needs," he said, stepping past the girl and entering the cottage. Marta and Kes were left alone on the terrace.

An awkward silence fell. Kes wondered if Michał's brush of her hips, just a second ago, had truly been accidental. The girls leaned against the railing, gazing out at the lake, which the setting sun adorned with thousands of dancing sparkles.

"So, shall we make a second dinner?

" "We will."

They went inside. Tofik carefully squeezed himself into the shadows that enveloped the corner of the living room. He already had a beer in his hand. Michał was in his element. He didn't rest for a moment, darting between the bread cabinet and the stack of bags. He took out his records. The portable radio-cassette player on the kitchen shelf blared a meaty beat. The boy kept taking sips from the bottle he held carelessly.

"You make spaghetti? Divine."

Kes slammed the meat against the pan, half in love, half angry, precisely because of that. Michał was an arrogant son of a bitch, a guy who thought all the girls were glued to his fingers, a simple loudmouth from downtown... But that meant nothing. Nothing compared to the shiver that ran through her body when she raised her hand and he planted a kiss on it, as if by accident he'd brushed her hip... She mentally cursed herself for being such an idiot.

Her hands were shaking. Half a bag of powdered sauce landed on the floor instead of in the pan.

In

the brief moment between regaining consciousness and opening his eyes, Krzysiek's mind registered two stimuli: the disco noise and the smell of fried tomatoes. The first drilled into his mind like a rusty screw, the second pleasantly teased his sense of smell.

He went downstairs. Kes was scraping the last of the sauce from the pan. Marta sat leaning against the cabinet, holding a bottle between her legs, from which she took small sips every now and then, staring at Michał, who was waving his arms and talking about equal rights, modern music... And cooking? He was unwavering, jumping from topic to topic, his mouth never closing.

"Hello, gentlemen," Krzysiek greeted.

"Hello, brother, we meet again. This time in such beautiful natural surroundings," Michał replied, offering him his hand. He had a firm, firm grip.

- Hello, Tofik. Nice to see you again.

Tofik muttered something over the bottle. He touched his friend's face with a damp, misty gaze.

Five empty bottles already lay at his feet. He hiccupped.

Kes finished playing with the frying pan. Irritated, she tossed it into the sink. She dried her hands and announced she was going fishing while it was still light. Anyone interested in company?

No one volunteered.

"Just be careful, don't fall asleep over your rod," Krzysiek warned her jokingly.

"Just in case, we know who likes to swim here.

" "I'm done for today."

Marta stood up.

"Maybe we should move outside? We could put out some candles. It'll be nice.

" "A thought worthy of a progressive woman," Michał applauded, his gaze sliding enthusiastically over the girl's tight blouse. Krzysiek decided to scratch his eyes out.

Cool, autumn air. The smell of the forest. The rustle of the trees, audible because Kes had casually turned off the boombox as she left. The faint glow of candles danced across their faces. They talked about many things. Mainly about their studies, because with less than two weeks left until the start of the school year, despite solemn declarations, it was impossible to avoid the topic. About the future and the past. They laughed at stale jokes, emphatically told by Michał. He took his seat at the head of the table, gesticulating wildly and smiling broadly. Marta sat nestled against Krzysiek, and although he still felt the warmth of her body, the presence of her beloved hair on his cheek, he couldn't shake off unpleasant, irritating thoughts. Tofik, with the grace of a mentally retarded conjurer, performed his beloved spectacle: the magical metamorphosis of a full bottle into an empty one. He rarely joined in the discussion.

Kes joined them just as the sun had sunk into its nest, just below the horizon. She energetically pulled up a chair and sat between Tofik and Michał. A spark of triumph flickered in the corners of her eyes.

"Are they biting well?" Krzysiek asked.

"I've never had such good fishing. Literally, they wouldn't leave me alone. I'd cast a float, another one. How long had I been fishing?" She glanced at her watch. "Less than half an hour. Guess how many fish I took off the hook.

" "Five?

" "Ten?" Marta shot.

"Eight hundred," Tofik gurgled.

Michał didn't answer, staring at the girl—the winner, the woman of momentary triumph.

"Twenty-seven," Kes replied. "Give me a beer, we have to celebrate." Bottles

were popped open. They toasted in unison.

The moon rose, illuminating the area with a ghostly glow. A silver crescent moon reflected on the still surface of the lake. The caretaker extinguished all the lamps and locked himself in his cottage. Kes, the eternal romantic, daydreamed and recited a beautiful poem about the stars from memory. Everyone caught on to the idea even before it was verbalized. The benefits of alcoholic intoxication. After all, there'll be a great view from the pier! Not the small one by the cottage. The main one by the beach. And the night is cloudless.

The swaying procession set off. Tofik was practically crawling, his nose to the ground, muttering something about the absolute. It was impossible to tell if he was swarming with profound ideas or simply yearning for vodka.

"Careful, crew, don't fall in the water," Michał's voice echoed across the lake. "Oh my gosh, you can hear me."

"Shh. The water carries a long way. Did anyone bring a blanket? Kes?" You're divine. Come here.

"Too small for all of us.

" "You're wearing sweatshirts. Give way to the women.

" "Martuś? Martuś? Where are you, darling?

" "Here, you idiot. Come closer, don't be shy. Sit down. God. You could have been quieter. Get your ass moving! I want to sit down too.

" "Stars..." Kes sighed.

"Yes," Michał said.

The beauty of thousands of shimmering dots was utterly captivating. The nearest town lay thirty kilometers to the north, so the star-studded sky wasn't stained by the city glow. Deep blackness, myriads of sparks, the majestic crescent moon, whose glow practically burned the eyes. There was so much to look at, so much to admire.

Krzysiek embraced Marta in a move whose naturalness and spontaneity surprised even him. The girl purred coaxingly, then sank deeper into his arms. This almost dispelled Krzysiek's fears. Suddenly he remembered something:

"Martusia?

" "Mm?

" "Do you have a boat here?"

A long grunt. As if the question had to penetrate the thick, downy pillow.

"It's locked in Mr. Henio's shed. You can take it anytime. Do you want it?

" "Not necessarily now.

" "Good. It feels so good..."

They returned to silent contemplation. At one point, Krzysiek raised his head to identify a strange sound, like shuffling... It was Michał's hand wandering towards Kes's neckline, lost in silent delight. He sagged with relief. As long as this primitive's paws were far from Marta, they could do whatever they wanted. He stared back at the sky. The hypnotizing charm of the Milky Way captivated the students' hearts with a delicate, misty grip. The sensation of communing with cosmic beauty was overwhelming...

Suddenly, Tofik lifted his head, crawled to the end of the jetty, and vomited.

Michael's hand withdrew before it reached its target.

š

They must have been chilled to the bone to tear their eyes away from the starry expanse and return to the warm interior of the cottage. Kes boiled water. Freshly brewed coffee warmed their numb minds. They sat down in the living room.

"What time... God, is it three already?" Marta asked, surprised.

"Yes, girl. The stars were beautiful," Michał replied.

He looked as if he wanted to add something more. Krzysiek waited, clenching his fists. Let him just make a remark like, 'Almost as beautiful as you,' or something from his repertoire known throughout the university, which dazzles hordes of virgins. Let him just try!

He didn't. Instead, Tofik, who had been silently staring at the carpet until then, spoke up:

"Listen, there's a crack here. As if there were something underneath."

They dismissed his remark with obtuse jokes. Yes. Naturally. We see cracks too. Oh, look, here, and here, cracks everywhere. Beer?

But he wasn't discouraged. He set down the steaming mug and dropped to his knees, feeling the floor.

"Look!"

This time they couldn't ignore it. Everyone saw it.

There was a trapdoor in the floor.

Michał asked, scratching his beard thoughtfully,

"Marta, what's in there?"

"I have no idea, it's the first time I've seen it," she replied, confused. She was clearly even more surprised than they were, even though the cottage belonged to her family.

"Hmm. I really like this. A trapdoor. There's probably a cellar under the trapdoor. What could be kept in the basement of a summer cottage? Tofik, Krzysztof, guys, use your brains. What could lie underground and grow in peace for years to come?"

Tofik's eyes flashed like two matches in a gunpowder warehouse.

"Wine!

" "I think so too," Michał smiled. "Gentlemen, let's get to work."

Krzysiek didn't participate in the energetic opening of the trapdoor. He stood to the side, embracing Marta, who was speechless. Kes only realized the situation when Michał's head disappeared beneath the floor.

"Can they go in there?"

The girl didn't answer, approaching the edge of the abyss. A disoriented voice came from her. For the first time, Krzysiek heard a hint of uncertainty in Michał's voice. He noted it with considerable satisfaction.

"Hey, guys, do you have a flashlight? It's damn dark in here. I can't see anything. And the ladder won't go all the way.

" "A flashlight? I saw it somewhere around here..."

A trembling, luminous circle illuminated the underground darkness. Everyone leaned over the opening, from which emanated the smell of mustiness and old earth.

"Be careful, that ladder doesn't look the most solid.

" "Don't worry. You know what's best? I'm not drunk at all anymore." Everything flew away.

He jumped down onto the packed earth. The room was over four meters high.

"So what?" Do you see anything?

- Is there wine? - Tofik wheezed.

"There's no wine... Empty, damn it, empty and dark. Wait. What's that?" A small light danced in the darkness. Michał picked something up from the ground. "A burnt-out candle. Ugh! It's sticky. Wait. Some kind of table. And..."

Silence fell. Crowded around the dark opening, they held their breath without even realizing it. Finally, a voice reached them:

"It's some kind of book. But it's damn old. All dusty.

" "What book? What the hell are you talking about? Down there?

" "Uh-huh. Wait. People, it's old. It's practically falling apart in my hands. Some strange letters. I could read the title, but it's blurred. Nec... Something, something. Fuck, but nice illustrations. Some kind of poem. What are those letters? Ugh... Nothing... Verba... Funny, huh? Ksann... Ozrak...

" Dry, absurd syllables seemed to tear the silence in half, to rape the air frozen in silence. There was a grating sound in them, something that defied all attempts to tame them. After a few seconds of incantation, Michał's voice grew louder, more confident. The students fell silent, mesmerized by the metallic sound of words, abstract and... alien. Michał, until then leaning against the table, arched his back. He raised his right hand as if holding a goblet full of wine.

Or blood. An absurd thought. Where had it come from?

Kes was the first to wake up. She screamed into the darkness,

"Michał! Stop it!"

No reaction. He didn't stop speaking. He scratched more words out of the darkness: Akh-khamanga. Sakk. Nigurat. Leh. Was it just her imagination, or had the temperature in the cabin risen a good few degrees?

A bad feeling gripped her. She put all her strength into another scream.

"Michał!! STOP IT!!

Silence. Did it work?" Marta and Krzysiek remained motionless. Vague, disinterested glances scanned the emptiness. She nudged them; they came to their senses.

Michał climbed up.

"Oh, nothing interesting. Old trash," he said without emotion, but something gleamed in the back of his eyes that Kes deeply disliked. It sent a shiver down her spine in an icy stream.

"Won't there be wine?

" "No, Tofik, there won't be. You'll have to settle for beer. By the way. Throw one." My throat is dry.

They slammed the flap shut, and the carpet returned to its place. After fifteen minutes, the memory of the strange event was just a distant haze, obscuring the recesses of her memory. Bottles hissed as they opened. Lively conversations returned. Kes brewed another cup of coffee. Only she looked flustered. She couldn't get those words out of her mind—foreign, strange, belonging to no language she knew. Others concluded that Michał had simply been affected by alcohol

.

Dawn was breaking. Tofik had fallen asleep on the couch, stretched out in a strange pose. Marta, who had been secretly yawning for over an hour, ordered a retreat towards bed. The shower, which, deaf to all the curses, spewed liquid ice instead of hot water, provided much amusement. They bathed, shivering with cold. The boys were to sleep in the living room. Kes had been assigned one of the bedrooms upstairs. Marta nodded to Krzysiek and led him to the other. She closed the door and turned the key.

"This is our kingdom," she said, sinking into the down-filled bedding. "I'm terribly cold. You aren't?

" "A little. I don't feel like sleeping at all.

" "Me too. Strange. Even before the shower, I was exhausted; I thought I wouldn't be able to crawl up those stairs for all the world. And now? Oh," she glanced out the window. "Look, the sun is rising.

" "Indeed. It's getting light." Actually, it would be a good idea to take a little nap.

"Yeah?" she asked, moving closer to Krzysiek. He could feel the warmth of her body through the thin material of her pajamas. She pressed against him, purring softly.

"Do you want something? Do you demand benefits?

" "Mr."

"To think they call you the weaker sex," he sighed, turning to caress her bare shoulders. "It's the greatest myth since Columbus. Women... What are you doing to us ?

" "Anything we want.

" "Truth. Holy, damned, delicious truth," he said, and slid the top of her pajamas down. The last shreds of fatigue melted away when his lips touched hot, silky skin. Marta moaned softly.

"Won't they hear us?" he asked.

"Don't think. Do. Everything I want... Whatever you want," she corrected herself.

Sleep

wouldn't come. Kes tossed and turned helplessly. Finally, irritated and completely sleepless, she stepped out onto the terrace to breathe the fresh forest air. She desperately wanted to forget the previous day's events; she would have given anything to simply enjoy her freedom and the last moments of her vacation, just like everyone else.

The dull surface of the lake could be seen between the trees. A light mist, an inseparable part of the forest predawn, settled on the surface. The loud, frog-like croaking coming from the other bank filled the entire area.

She rubbed her hands together.

As Michał descended, an icy ball of panic bloomed in her stomach. She felt as if she'd swallowed a snowflake. It wasn't the first time. She'd experienced it before when Krzysiek had swum out onto the lake.

She couldn't shake the feeling that something connected these events.

And that this wasn't the end.

Besides, it's probably a more pleasant matter, isn't it?... Michał touched her hips, a casual, delicate movement. Accidentally, or maybe not. She'd never been able to cope with her feelings. She – a declared romantic, escaping to the stars and dreaming of a candlelit dinner. She... As autumn takes over from summer, blowing him a kiss smelling of rotting leaves... She shudders at the memory of the touch of a man who had repeated eighth grade twice and – as rumor has it – had already screwed almost all the girls in his fourth year of teaching. What did that say about her? What did it prove? After the icy bath, she couldn't look herself in the eye. She was afraid. Of what?

Perhaps that she would see desperate longing in them and... Consent. A silent acceptance of everything. Just to feel his hand on her skin again.

The

sun was already high above the horizon when they dragged themselves painfully out of bed. Rubbing the remnants of dreams from their eyelids, they eagerly began making coffee. Tofik was pale as paper, barely speaking, and constantly sipping from a bottle of mineral water. Kes, after muttering "Good morning everyone," sat in the corner, sending vague glances in an unspecified direction, and even closer to Michał. He paid them little attention, absorbed in his gaze, while Krzysiek happened to be looking away. The coffee did its job, finally sharpening their sleepy faces. The word was "volleyball." The answer was "breakfast first." Kes, the master of scrambled eggs, was preparing scrambled eggs.

"Don't you have any spices here?" She grimaced. Marta shook her head.

Despite this, what she had prepared could easily pass for a world champion. The compliments were endless:

"God, what this woman can do with eggs," Michał marveled.

"It's no art," the cook replied modestly. "Even a man can prepare it.

" "Not so wonderfully, my dear," he replied. Kes's face flushed. "It requires a woman's delicacy, slender hands, and skill. A man is a machine. Right, gentlemen? Give him a note, and he'll do it all, from A to Z, maybe he won't even stain his pants with egg yolk. But only you women can elevate cooking to the level of art. And create SOMETHING like that. Is there anything else?

" "No," said Tofik, who had just finished scraping the pan.

"See, Kes? They ate it all... Tofik, you son of a bitch! You have no heart.

" "All's fair in love and at breakfast," Krzysiek remarked, carefully cleaning his plate.

"Oh, yeah," replied Michał, taking advantage of the moment to give Kes a knowing wink.

Of course, to determine who was to wash up, they had to draw matches. Marta landed. She cursed fate, praised the scrambled eggs once more, and locked herself in the kitchen. After a short siesta, an old volleyball was retrieved from the bottom of the cupboard. Back on the sandy court, it was decided that one person would have to referee, unless someone split in half. Tofik ran for the matches. Bad luck. He drew the shortest match. Perhaps it was a good thing, as he was still plagued by a mysterious affliction the students called "duckweed." The egg gluttony didn't improve the situation. He buried himself in the sand and pretended to control the game. Krzysiek and Marta won easily, mainly because Kes had held a volleyball only three times in her life. Michał tried his best, but he couldn't cover half the court with his tanned arms.

The caretaker was watching the game. He stood in the doorway of his cottage, leaning against the doorframe. As they were getting ready to leave, he came over and asked,

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Henio," Marta ran up to him, still out of breath. "We won! Did you see?

" "I saw it, kid. You're hitting the ball brilliantly. So everything's okay? Nothing happened?

" "No... But why are you asking?

" "Never mind. That's stupid," he laughed uncertainly. He cleared his throat a few times.

"What's the matter?" the concerned girl asked.

"Nothing. I had a strange dream.

" "Oh."

He waved his hand.

"But never mind. The important thing is that everything's okay. Have a nice day," he said and left.

"What's the matter? Are we too loud?" Krzysiek asked when she returned to the field.

"Nothing happened. He asked if everything was okay.

" "And what did you tell him?

" "Yes. What was I supposed to say? Are you feeling unwell, does your stomach hurt?" The aggression in her voice was so unexpected that everyone fell silent. "God, Krzysiek, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I think I need to nap some more."

She kissed him on the cheek by way of apology. Dark clouds rolled in

from

the east. The sun disappeared behind a gray curtain, the wind picked up, ruffling their hair and blowing plastic cups off the terrace.

While the rest of the group dug up cards from somewhere and sat around the table playing poker with matches, Krzysiek went to get the boat. The caretaker wordlessly handed him the key to the shed. He seemed absent. The crumbling building also hid two kayaks and a dilapidated pedal boat in its bowels. It reeked of old paint, and spiders scurried along the boards.

Getting out onto the lake wasn't easy; he kept the memory of the previous afternoon, when the same waters had tried to hold him in their seaweed-smelling embrace. What was it that had slithered across his skin? A fish? Just like that? Impossible. No fish would start wrapping itself around your leg, though... Maybe an eel? He didn't know. He swam, decisively parting the waves. The new oars felt very good in his hands. It was a pity the sun had disappeared behind the clouds. It was already so beautiful...

He tied the boat to the metal hoop. The silence surprised him. As he stepped out, the boombox blared furious notes, and every few moments someone would curse loudly, cursing fate, which had punished him with, say, a two and a seven off-color. Silence.

No

one was on the terrace.

An absurd, blood-curdling suspicion gripped him. They weren't there. While he struggled with the boat, they ran into the forest, leaving everything on the table. For example, the plastic cup, which was now flying across the table, buffeted by the chilly wind. Krzysiek wanted to scream, but his voice caught in his throat. Empty. They were gone. They'd vanished.

Then he heard a dull thud, like a herd of elephants running across the wooden floor. Someone was running down the stairs. Thank God. He breathed a sigh of relief, mentally cursing himself for idiots. Michał appeared in the doorway, wearing only his underwear. He passed Krzysiek with a wild cry:

"Death to suckers! Youth is eternal!"

He ran down to the lake. Even at full speed, he remembered to flex his chest and muscles, which made him look a bit comical. Tofik also ran out of the house, hunched over. He trotted out to join his friend. They both stood on the dock, full of philosophical reflection and goosebumps.

"Cold," Tofik said, sticking out his finger.

"Girls, Krzysiek, come on, it's gorgeous!"

"You must have fallen on your head," Marta laughed, leaning out from the upper terrace.

"I'm not kidding! Come on!"

Krzysiek was surprised to find he'd already taken off his sweatshirt and pants. The idea was so stupid it was charming. Besides, he couldn't possibly lag behind Michał. Especially since it was his chest Marta was staring at. Kes too, for that matter. As he ran down to the lake, he cursed the feminine gender and his own stupidity. Yesterday he'd almost drowned, still feeling that sharp, iron taste in his mouth. And today, what? He eagerly leaned over the water, laughed at the guy mentally fucking his girlfriend, and...

Laughter. A slap. And freezing water.

"You sons of bitches!" he shouted as he surfaced. Michał was laughing into his fist. Everyone laughed. Marta's sharp, pearly chuckle drifted from the terrace.

Without thinking, he grabbed Michał's leg. Michał tried to pull away, but the grip was strong, too strong. Krzysiek poured into him all the anger that burned in his gut, all the frustration, all the grief.

A splash.

"Tofik, damn it, you're alone. Don't shake so much. You're shaking all over. Come on, it's warmer here, you'll see.

" "Aha. I'll stand.

" "You won't," Michał said, and did more or less the same thing Krzysiek had just done.

So there were three of them in the water. They were splashing a few meters from the jetty, choking on laughter and encouraging the girls to join their merry band. At first, Marta and Kes tapped each other on the forehead, calling them fools and fools, but after five minutes they disappeared into the house and ran down to the jetty, dressed in their swimsuits. The chilly wind whipped their frozen bodies. You had to admit, those bodies were... highly inspiring.

"What are you staring at?" Marta scolded them.

"Jump in. It really is warmer here," Krzysiek encouraged, watching Michał closely. He calmed down as the boy, floating on his back, stared at Kes, a nymph with reddish-brown hair, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

"You know what? This isn't the best idea. Aah! Don't splash me, you jerk!

" "You have to get used to the temperature.

Exactly. The temperature. The water was much warmer than yesterday. As he chased the fishing rod, he felt icy splinters practically tearing at his flesh. Once he almost got a cramp. And now? The water was cold, yes, but the cold no longer penetrated his body, didn't bite his bones. He could swim, and quite comfortably at that.

"There! Good girl.

" "I'm cold! Damn, it's cold! Brr!

" "You'll get used to it. Swim. Move. And you, Kes? Jump in, it's a waste of time."

"I don't know...

" "Come on," Michał encouraged, giving her his legendary half-smile.

She listened. Who could resist?

They

emerged from the water, chilled but cheerful. The jokes were endless.

"Kes, about the master of cooking and coffee. Is there any more rum?

" "We're running out.

" "Enough for tea? For a large jug of hot, fragrant tea? Please say yes. Yes? That's great. Will you do it, sweetheart?"

A hint of a smile, a general lightening of moods. A little madness makes you three years younger. They felt like they were in high school, when similar excursions and variations were the essence of a daily journey through the world. There was enough rum for everyone. The hot drink stimulated the senses, banishing thoughts of tonsillitis, runny noses, and pneumonia. Tofik, listening to his stomach rumble, suggested dinner. Accepted by acclamation. The men's section of the troop was given a task worthy of the most seasoned Scouts: They were to light the grill. The girls gracefully set about slicing the sausages. The job went perfectly.

After dinner, they again couldn't agree on the dishes.

Lots were drawn again.

"I knew it," Tofik groaned, staring at the shortest match.

"Be careful with the water; sometimes it's boiling hot," Marta warned, gracefully jumping onto the hammock.

A warm, golden afternoon arrived, smelling of the forest and hot tea. The students dispersed around the cottage and the surrounding area. Kes grabbed a fishing rod, encouraged by the previous day's successes. Krzysiek collapsed into a rocking chair and fell asleep almost immediately, lulled by the melody of the wind caressing the trees. Michał dug out some badminton rackets, persuaded Tofik to play, and for the next hour they spent hitting a plastic shuttlecock. They enjoyed their freedom, trying to catch the last breaths of summer.

š

"I hate this game," Krzysiek said, throwing his cards on the table.

"Honey, don't get upset. It's a matter of luck. Sometimes it's there, sometimes it's gone.

" "That's right!"

"Somehow, that luck always eludes me."

"Once on the cart, once under the cart," Marta said, scooping up a large pile of matches. "Oh, Kes. You're finally here. So how's the fishing going?"

The girl stood over them, hands on her hips. She looked as if she didn't know what to say. She rested the rod on the floor. She played with the line for a few seconds, wrapping it around her finger.

"Tragic.

" "How so?" Michał asked, until then engrossed in analyzing his cards.

"Not a single one. I sat on this pier for a bloody hour and a half and caught nothing.

" "But yesterday...

" "I know what happened yesterday. And now? Zero fish. Absolutely, completely zero. Not a single one."

Krzysiek remembered how he'd gone down to the water the previous day, before unpacking his luggage. He'd clearly seen several, if not a dozen, specimens swimming freely right next to the ladder, gracefully waving their tails. It's impossible that nothing now..."

Marta shrugged.

"Strange.

" "Very strange." Oh, I'm nervous... Oh, thanks," she replied, as Michał wordlessly handed her the bottle.

"Sit down. And don't worry about the fish. Who's dealing?"

It turned out Kes was excellent with cards. It took her less than an hour to win the entire pot. The sun was already hiding between the trees when Michał bitterly threw his cards on the table.

"I don't play like that! This girl is killing me. You know what I dream of?"

"Huh?" Tofik asked.

"Tea with rum.

" "No," Marta said.

"I know there isn't. But what's the big deal, getting in the car and driving? None. I'll be back before dark. Is that okay? Buy something else?

" "Buy ketchup. We're running out. I didn't expect you'd be such ketchup connoisseurs.

" "Okay. Any other orders? None? Well, I'm off then."

He did as he said. Soon after, the car disappeared among the trees. The weather cleared, and the sun peeked out more and more frequently from behind the clouds. Marta and Krzysiek went to the large jetty; they took off their shoes and dangled their legs over the transparent surface, embracing each other, watching the chaotic play of reflections and gleams. Kes, still reeling from her fishing failure, muttered that she was going for a walk in the forest. Tofik nodded, then, with a movement of a certain majesty, lightened the fridge by three beers and stepped down onto the jetty.

Kes had a few things to think about. She hoped that a walk through the wilderness would cool her emotions and allow her to regain her sobriety. She had achieved her goal. Lying in one of the forest clearings, with the blue sky and puffy shreds of clouds almost within arm's reach, she immersed herself in a warm, cozy nothingness. The persistent voices, the echoes of dilemmas, vanished: Yes or no?

Something bit her neck. She jumped up with a scream. An anthill. Yes, yes. You have to be more careful when choosing a spot for a blissful semi-snooze... She set off again. It didn't matter where. As long as she kept moving, as long as she kept moving forward, into the forest, fragrant with autumn.

š

"Michał's taking a long time to come back," Tofik observed as they unhitched the boat.

"He'll manage. He knows the way. He probably can't find good rum," Marta said.

"Rum is rum.

" "Oh, Tofik. Not necessarily. Jump in, honey.

" "Rum is rum," Tofik repeated, wiping his mouth. He reached for another bottle. The first star appeared in the sky, adorning the red glow spread over the horizon after sunset. Darkness had flowed into the world.

By the time they reached the middle of the lake, the sky was full of tiny sparks, shimmering on the navy blue sheets. They spoke quietly, leaning closer to each other. It wasn't about the voice carrying perfectly over water. It was about the mood, the hard-to-capture, even harder-to-name atmosphere of communing with something infinitely beautiful.

"I like it here. I really do. It was a wonderful idea.

" "I'm glad. I didn't want to spend the last days of vacation lying on the couch in the living room drinking natural yogurt. It's going to be a tough year. We deserve a little more rest."

"You really didn't know about that basement?"

Marta shuddered.

"No. In fact, this house has been a mystery to me from the start. I told you. Dad didn't say anything until he bought the land and commissioned the design. Mom and I only saw it once, when he accidentally left it in the living room. It was incomplete anyway." She shrugged, staring at the stars. "I remember when Dad came back, he made a huge fuss. True, Mom was stupid to put a cup of coffee on it, but his reaction was, to say the least, over the top.

" "Did he yell loudly?"

"Very strongly... Although he didn't usually yell. He did scold me, even harshly, but he didn't yell. I hid in my room, and they started arguing. No..." She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it. These aren't good memories.

" "Don't talk. Move closer to me.

" "I wouldn't be surprised if Mom didn't know anything about the basement either," she said, sinking trustingly into the boy's arms. "That would be fitting for Dad. And his...

" "Illness," Krzysiek thought. His illness. That's what he wants to say. But he won't say it. Not yet. "

He hugged her tighter.

"How much I would give to erase some memories from my mind. Like erasing a blackboard. That would be wonderful," she whispered.

Krzysiek carefully rested the oars against the railing. They drifted freely, embracing, savoring every second of happiness that was usually so fleeting... Krzysiek wanted to say something about Michał, to interject a few seemingly banal sentences, about his arrogance, his pride, but he decided against it. Not the right mood. On a night like this, he couldn't help but love Marta, so happy, so... Safe in his arms. Was she asleep? Probably not. A wonderful feeling: being with his beloved, his chosen one. To think they'd met in a bookstore! He remembered. She'd been looking for books for her brother, he'd been hunting for a new edition of Marquez. Two words, exchanged as they stood side by side, running their fingers along the spines of thick volumes. A smile. And finally, glances... Warm, cheerful, the glances of people who had discovered the truth in a split second; that they had finally found each other, though they hadn't even realized they were searching, searching every morning and every evening; They wander the world, carefully observing passersby, subconsciously believing that one day they will pluck that one smile from the crowd. They found it.

Something splashed in the water, right next to the boat. Marta muttered something without opening her eyes.

"Nothing, honey. Sleep. I'm with you..." He whispered.

It's high time to go back, he thought. He grabbed the oars and began rowing gently. He was in no hurry, trying not to wake the girl. The caretaker had already turned off the lanterns; everything around him was a dark, blurry blur. Why hadn't anyone turned on the light in the cottage yet? He had been rowing steadily for almost fifteen minutes when he looked back, not wanting to swim into the wild undergrowth.

He wasn't near the shore at all.

There was no shore. Just pitch-black water, all around.

"What happened?

" "Nothing," he replied calmly. How is that possible? He'd been rowing for over fifteen minutes! The lake wasn't that big.

Just them and the stars, even the moon hidden among the trees. Krzysiek cleared his throat for courage. As he began to row, a dull thud echoed across the water. Otherwise, an impenetrable, sinewy silence reigned. His muscles throbbed with a dull ache. But he swam persistently. He had no other choice. The only thing that saved him from panic was the steady stroke of the oars.

Every few moments he glanced back, trying not to wake Marta, who was dozing against his chest. Nothing. Water, water everywhere, a tarry, alien depth. The hypnotic clatter of oars in the rowlocks. Pain. And fear, that animal devouring everything living. The irrational conviction that the lake no longer had a shore had become a dark expanse, an enclave of nothingness, a kingdom of shadow beyond time... Where were these thoughts coming from? They weren't his words. Despite everything, he glanced at his watch. It was past 8 p.m. The hands were ticking, as usual. This didn't calm him at all.

"Krzysiek? Where are we going?

" "Ahead.

" "I'm cold.

" "Hug me tighter. It'll help. At least it always did," he tried to smile.

Carried by a sudden surge of hope, he looked back once more. He knew this time he would see the outline of the cottage clearly outlined against the foliage, the kitchen light, Kes standing on the upper terrace. He was sure he would finally hear Michał's voice. Yes! God, how he missed his voice... Who would have thought? In a moment they would sail up alongside the jetty, Tofik, if he wasn't completely drunk yet, would offer him his hand, they would safely dock, and finally make it ashore. He knew it even before he turned his head. The ghost of a smile graced his face...

But he saw nothing. He heard nothing. They were alone. Alone in the impenetrable darkness.

š

It was already dusk when she realized she had lost her way. She had wandered the forest paths for a long time, aimlessly, enjoying the sight of every solitary tree, every wild rowan bush. Nature had never failed her before, always bringing peace and solace. It was friendly to her. Until now.

"Damn," Kes muttered, staring at the fork in the road. She remembered that on her way back, she had at some point been supposed to pay attention to the tree that had been split by lightning.

But which one? There were two, one on each side. They looked almost identical.

With a heavy sigh, she sat down on a roadside stone. She stared at the forest floor.

"Okay, Kes," she said loudly. "You're timing it, exactly one minute. Even numbers of ants, you go right, odd numbers, left."

She spotted nineteen ants. Happy that the problem had been solved without stress, she set off at a brisk pace. Then she heard the sound of an engine, sounding quite familiar. Michał's head popped out of the black SUV.

"Hey, Kes. Want a ride?

" "Sure," she replied after a moment's thought.

Strange. She didn't notice any purchases in either the front or back seat.

"Did you buy everything?"

Michał grimaced as if he'd swallowed a peppered lemon.

"You see... How should I put this? I don't know how it happened, I know the road quite well, but... You see... I'm lost.

" "Are you kidding?"

"No," he grimaced even more. "I honestly don't know how that's possible. I was definitely on the right path, turned right at the signpost, then there was that ruined cottage... Two bends and a path along a field. Then a forest, a fork, bumpy roads, and..." And I emerged at the signpost, on the other side. Kes. Please. Don't look at me like that. I'm dead serious. I tried again, and the same thing happened again. I've been wandering around this damn forest for two hours. It's good that I at least met you. Lead the way.

" "A-ha..." Her face fell.

"What's so funny? You had to get here somehow.

" "True. Except I got lost too."

He stopped the car, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"You're kidding." She shook her head. "You're kidding, Kes. You're kidding, and I'm really serious. I'm tired of meandering around these paths." Just the thought of another fork in the road gives me monkey epilepsy.

"Calm down. We'll find it eventually. I'm sure I haven't strayed far. Well... I've strayed a bit. I guess... I don't know," she admitted.

Without a word, he got out of the car and leaned against the door. Kes heard his loud, theatrical laugh.

"Great. So we're screwed. It's good that it's getting darker.

" "Come back," she said loudly, emphatically. "Come back and let's go. We have to find it sometime. You still have almost half a tank of gas, and this car definitely won't get stuck on the forest path. We'll manage. Come on, hop on, I say!"

Amazingly, he listened. They set off.

Half an hour later, Michał stopped the car again. He got out. He lay down on the moss, under a tree. Kes also got out and sat down next to him.

"Do you recognize this place?" he said.

"Yes.

" "I met you here.

" "Yes.

" "I don't need to say anything.

" "No.

" "I need to calm down for a moment. Take a seat." It will do you good," he encouraged, pointing to a clump of moss. She lay down beside him. The

first stars twinkled in the navy blue sky. The world observed through the green glass looked beautiful; one might say it was gaining depth and expression. However, there was a circumstance in which it became even more beautiful. So beautiful that its charm was breathtaking. When? When, between the layers of green glass, a certain liquid was found. More specifically, the drink of the gods, the golden nectar of life, an ambrosia worthy of the twenty-first century, the idea of ​​which had supposedly been discovered by the Babylonians. An idea that transformed life, adding flavor and mystical glory. This was the recipe for everyday ailments, giving strength and an inner fire thanks to which, every day, all over the world, millions of people challenged various incarnations of the eternal, Wertherian Weltschmertz. Tofik, the self-proclaimed liberated philosopher, reached for another bottle and froze in silent delight, gazing at the lake through a golden-green kaleidoscope.

"Wonderful. Simply wonderful."

The beer flowed down his throat.

Dusk found him deep in thought, leaning against a tree. When he tried to stand, the world suddenly spun. The toffee swayed. He fell facedown into the forest floor, cursed, spitting grass. He cleared his throat with a powerful gulp. He felt instantly better. Slowly, careful to maintain his balance, he moved toward the cottage. Reaching the terrace, and Nirvana along the way, he yearned for enlightenment. Literally and figuratively. He flipped the switch. He squinted, bracing himself for the invasion of harsh light. Unnecessarily. There was no invasion. No light either.

"What's the matter?" he gurgled, trying again. No luck. "The rod probably burned out," he said, scratching his head.

He tried the bedside lamp. Then the radio. It didn't work. The cottage was still dark and quiet. He stepped out, leaning against the railing, almost falling over.

"Sunshine!" he shouted, waving at the sun. "Come back! It's a deal!"

Unfortunately, the sun didn't even deign to heed his request. It sent him one last farewell ray, then disappeared among the trees.

Tofik wanted to curse, but the alcohol momentarily confused his synapses, and instead of a sarcastic curse, he only said, "Damn." Resigned, he sank onto the terrace steps. He looked around longingly. "

Oh, there you are," he said, rejoicing, reaching for another bottle. She was standing on one of the steps, as if waiting for him.

š

Krzysiek had once read that if you blindfold a person and let them out in a large enough space with instructions to walk in a straight line, after a while they would begin to walk in circles. This was because the right leg was stronger than the right. Perhaps it was the same with his arms? Perhaps he'd simply been spinning in circles in the middle of the lake for a while now?

Fortified by this thought—a common-sense solution to the problem, after all—he reduced the force of his right-handed rowing a little. They moved very slowly; not wanting to wake Marta, he was forced to make only slight movements.

The stars... He could have sworn they were laughing at him. Pale, impassive in the ancient firmament. Distant and proud.

The stars... But wait! He remembered that, standing on the dock by the cottage, he'd seen the constellation of the Big Dipper perfectly straight above the horizon. Where did he see it now? He stopped the boat, frozen in the heart of nothingness. Nervously, he glanced twice at the right stars without seeing them.

He cursed. Quietly, but emphatically.

The Big Dipper was hanging directly in front of him. That meant he was rowing in the right direction. That meant... Exactly.

What does that mean?

What the hell does that mean?

š

- Kes? Aren't you cold?

- No. But we should get up now. It'll be completely dark soon. We definitely won't find our way at night.

"You're right," he admitted meekly. Again. What happened to his warrior, leader's heart?

They brushed the moss from their clothes. Michael stood, staring at the girl. She tried with all her might not to blush. It didn't work. Regardless of whether he was leading or not, he still had the most alluring smile on Earth. Or at least in the northern hemisphere. She turned and walked to the car.

Quiet footsteps. He stopped behind her. She couldn't find the courage to turn around, look him in the eye, or walk away. She could only hold on. And wait. The stars... The cool wind, caressing her cheeks, which burned, burned with living fire. His breath on the back of her neck. Hands she couldn't see, but she felt with her sixth sense that they were there, that they were getting closer, that in just a second, two more, they would touch her waist, slide along her back, brush her neck, and maybe even tangle in her hair... She choked back a moan. Silver petals swirled before her eyes. Less than a second. They were there. Getting closer. Him. The warmth of his breath. Oh God...

"Why did you start reading that book aloud?" she blurted out.

He froze. Her hands withdrew.

"What are you talking about?

" "Down there. What possessed you to recite lines from that book?"

The spell was broken. Regaining control of her body, Kes looked Michał straight in the eyes. Instead of the shadows of romantic intentions she expected to see there, she saw anxiety and disbelief.

"What... Book?

" "Are you kidding me?" She repeated his words, spoken two hours earlier. "The one you found downstairs, in the basement, when you climbed down the ladder... You remember that, don't you?

" "I remember," he nodded, even more confused. "But there wasn't a book in there. It was all rubbish. There wasn't even any wine." He tried to laugh, but his lips twisted in a poor parody of a smile.

"Michał... We were all there! Don't joke around, please.

" "Kes. Stop it. I know what I saw."

They fell silent. Resigned, Kes opened the door and slumped heavily into the seat.

"Let's go."

They drove off. The car's headlights cut through the darkness like daggers. They had to slow down several times to avoid particularly bumpy roads. They had been silent for fifteen minutes, each certain of their point, when something flickered between the trees. The moon. It would have been a rather neutral revelation, were it not for the fact that, already disappearing behind the horizon, it cast a trailing reflection on the lake's surface.

"Finally," Kes said quietly.

"We made it," smiled Michał, then cursed loudly as the car lurched violently and crashed to the ground.

They heard a loud crash. The engine sputtered loudly, howled, and stalled.

"So, off with the muffler," the boy commented.

"What do we do?" "What do you mean?

We get out. We'll continue on foot. And tomorrow... And tomorrow we'll see," he added after a moment.

They set off through the forest, keeping an eye on the silvery beacon. A forest at night should be full of sounds, Kes thought. At least that was the conclusion she'd drawn from reading adventure books. Meanwhile, a soft silence reigned around them. They walked slowly, carefully choosing their steps. It wasn't enough.

Kes tripped over a root, staggered, and fell.

"Kes? Are you okay?

" "I'm okay. But could you help me up?"

He ran over. And his haste lost him. He caught his foot in the twigs of a low bush. He collapsed like a log, right next to her.

"Thanks for the help," Kes said coldly.

He laughed. Almost simultaneously, they looked up at the moon, at their savior. The cottage was no more than ten minutes away. All the tension melted away in that pure, pearly laughter. They infecting each other with joy. When one finished laughing, the other began another round of barely suppressed snorts and giggles. Riddled by uncontrollable spasms, they tossed and turned on the soft bedding. Thus, they didn't even notice when their bodies had drawn close enough to feel each other... And touch.

Or maybe even kiss...

š

Tofik lay, gripped by euphoria. Everything pleased him: the warmth of the blanket he lay on, the prospect of sleep he longed for, the fact that there were over twenty beers still in the cupboard... That night, everything went his way. Bottles fell into his hand. The golden drink tasted as good as ever. Loneliness didn't bother him; she was his oldest, most faithful friend. He had long ago discovered that, in truth, he was alone in this world, because all friendships were an illusion, a fleeting delusion. No one shared his philosophy of life; apparently, people's minds were still too narrow to accommodate modern, bold ideas.

He had conceived another modern idea. The golden drink flowed down his throat.

Oh. He'd drink some wine... The very thought sent a warm shiver through him. Yes! However, an infinitely precise part of his mind told him that the appropriate actions, specifically – going down to the cellar – had yielded no results. There was no wine in the cellar.

However, Tofik's brain possessed another, additional intelligence. It was the gray sense, a source of almost divine revelations. It always activated the moment he placed the sixth, dry bottle on the table.

He met the conditions, so the gray sense came to the fore. That's nonsense; throughout history, wine shelves were an inseparable attribute of a cellar! Straw! Rotten necks! Corks, reminiscent of distant times! Divine sweetness that burst glasses, amber nectar that filled the guts with a truly aristocratic delight. Yes! Michał was a wimp; his eyesight was adapted only to feeling from a distance; where could he engage him in such noble pursuits? He'd missed the wine shelf, that's what.

But Tofik will fix this mistake.

In the dark, he crawled to the carpet. He pulled it aside with a long, unsteady movement. The flap was surprisingly light. Muttering an ode to wine, he descended. Under normal circumstances, descending such a tall ladder, he would have fallen nineteen times and broken his back. But these were not normal circumstances. He had a mission to fulfill.

He took a deep breath of the cellar air. Yes! He was right. He could smell the distinct scent of old, noble wine.

His sense of sight was completely useless, so Tofik switched to smell. Helplessly groping with his hands, he moved forward. Absolute silence reigned. The only sound was the soft shuffle of old sneakers. The smell was getting stronger. Just a moment! Just a few more meters! He licked his chapped lips. He regretted not bringing a beer with him.

His hand struck something hard:

a table.

And candles. Their glow hurt his eyes.

Candles? After all...

And a book.

And where was the wine? He can feel them, so clearly! Look what's written there, he thought. Curious, he leaned over the dusty volume. At the top of the page were neat, clear letters: "WINE CABINET OPERATING INSTRUCTIONS." Delighted, he looked up and finally saw it.

The bottles seemed to burst with the sweetness filling them. They lay in neat rows, eight to a row. The shelves were made of solid oak. There was also straw, of course. The labels on the glass had already faded. The perfectly symmetrical necks were covered with a thick layer of dust. A

thick grille guarded everything. And a padlock.

Tofik, captivated, realized he was standing at the gates of paradise. And the key lay right there. Right at his fingertips.

His mother always told him to read all the instructions carefully.

The

boat sank into the sandy shore. At first, Krzysiek couldn't believe it. He stared into the darkness. Yes. The bushes, bathed in darkness, moved, whipped by the wind. Waves crashed softly against the side of the boat. They made it. They had finally reached it. The fear was over. Terror gave way to euphoria, the tension eased, escaping from his gut with an almost audible hiss.

"Where are we?" Marta asked, rising.

"I don't know. But we'll continue on foot; I don't have the strength to row any more. And I don't feel like swimming any more.

" "We're almost to the cottage," she assessed. "It's a wild beach. I swam here once. Just tie the boat up properly, tomorrow morning... Ugh... We'll come back for it. Hmm. Strange.

" "What?" he asked once he'd set foot on dry land. He offered her his hand.

"There are no lights in sight." Mr. Heniu could have turned off the lights by now, after all, it's already..." She glanced at her watch. "Almost eleven. But I don't believe the guys were drinking in the dark."

"Maybe the trees are blocking the view," he said, wrestling with the steel cable. He looped it twice around the tree and tied a strong knot. "Done."

Marta looked critically at his work. She yawned again.

"Maybe... Ugh... It'll hold. Hmm. But it's less than a hundred meters...

" "Maybe they're getting romantic. Although... Poor Kes.

" "Don't joke. I'm really worried. Let's go. Come on, stop looking at that boat like that, it won't float away."

Twigs cracked under their feet. They had to push through dense undergrowth. Marta bravely and gracefully parted the flexible branches, which refused to bend to their will. They struck violently at faces and necks, sometimes pricking them with sharp needles. They cut as if guided by a hostile intelligence. Krzysiek, however, paid little attention to this; he walked as if hypnotized, passively keeping pace with Marta. He didn't want to say aloud what he saw when he last looked at the lake, before they entered the forest. Marta couldn't have noticed; she had already disappeared among the bushes. But he... He saw. Under normal circumstances, he would have blamed fatigue, ordinary, human exhaustion. But not now, when the last hours had been a struggle against madness for him, when he helplessly flailed against the impenetrable depths of the endless lake.

Marta said something, almost tripping over a twisted branch. He didn't understand the words. He couldn't shake the image from his mind.

Huge bubbles burst on the surface with a soft hiss. A milky mist rose on the surface.

The water was boiling.

"

Tofik? Marta? Krzysiek... Where are you? And why the hell are you sitting in the dark?

" "Martusia?" "Kess called, stepping onto the terrace.

Michał flipped the switch. There was still no light.

"There's no power," he pronounced.

"Oh, my God!

" "Kes? What happened?

" "Look!"

In the corner of the living room, squeezed between the couch and the table, lay Tofik. His head was hanging low, and beside him were a dozen bottles, most of them empty.

"Tofik! Dude, what's wrong with you? Wake up. WAKE UP, damn it!" Michał shouted, shaking his friend. Tofik didn't move. He muttered something under his breath, then slid lower, spreading his legs.

The sour smell of alcohol hung in the air.

"It's all clear. He's had a three-bite meltdown. I'll put him on the couch. Is there a bowl around here? Under the sink? Give me... Thanks." Oh. Now he'll be safe; at least he won't choke if wild peacocks attack him. Why are you laughing so hard?

Kes giggled, covering her mouth.

"Everything that happened today... It's so absurd, so impossible, so... Wonderful." She walked up to Michał, wrapping her arms around his waist. Despite the darkness, he saw a playful twinkle in her eyes. "So wonderful and unlike anything I've ever experienced before, that..." She rested her head against his muscular chest. She burst into laughter again. "I can't help it. God, I'm so happy!"

"Me too, Kes, me too. But wait here a moment, I'll go check if the others haven't fallen asleep on the dock. Will you wait here? Will you keep an eye on Tofik? I'll be back soon.

" "Go. But come back quickly."

He ran out of the cottage.

Kes sat down next to Tofik, who began to make strange sounds, a bit like snoring, but more piercing and moist. He gurgled again in his sleep. Kes leaned closer, the words sounding strangely familiar.

An icy chill ran through her body as Tofik repeated it again, this time more clearly, with an accent unlike his own.

"Sakk." "Nigurat." "Leh."

She wanted to get up, to run outside, but her body protested. It didn't move, as if it weighed far more than a hundred pounds. Tofik fell silent. A deafening silence enveloped her. She sat rigid, afraid to move. She didn't even realize she'd reverted to one of the many rituals of her childhood, a ritual that warded off demons and spirits even more effectively than her parents. She squeezed her eyes shut. It helped. For a second.

Because something grabbed her wrist.

She opened her eyes.

Tofik. He was smiling. His lips moved, but the voice that emerged wasn't his:

"Join us. He's coming." Join us... Kes," he said with a ghostly smile.

"

Nno. We're here. Where is everyone?" Marta said, stepping onto the terrace.

"Marta! Krzysiek! You're... Finally. Listen. Something strange is happening," Michał said, pulling them toward the water. Krzysiek said nothing. The image that had haunted him turned out to be a hallucination, for the lake was calm.

They stood on a wooden jetty. The night sky glowed with thousands of tiny sparks. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. And something else. A muffled hiss.

"See?

" "What? See. I can't see anything." Marta waved her hand.

"And the water? Is it just me, or was it so high yesterday that it was practically washing over the boards?

" "It was. And?" The girl paused, leaning over the ladder. "Oh, damn," she cursed.

"See. Does anyone have an idea? Because I can't think of anything."

The water level had dropped. By about half a meter, I guess.

"Listen," said Michał. "Something strange is going on here. What's more, there's no power in the house."

"That happens quite often. I'll pop over to Mr. Henio's, even now. Oh. What about Kes? I hope she's back from her walk?

" "She's back... She's watching over Tofik, who's completely drowned. I met her on the way.

" "Oh. So what? Did you do the shopping?

" "No. I got lost in the forest.

" "It's a straight road! You found it yesterday.

" "But not today.

" "Oh. Well, we have another strange thing," Krzysiek interjected, still intently observing the water.

"Never mind. I'll pop over to Henio's, then we'll talk. Make some tea in the meantime," she hesitated. "Oh. There's no electricity... What an idiot I am. So maybe you shouldn't do that. I'll be right back."

She ran up the steps. They were alone. Michał sat down on the boards.

"I'll ask you like a man. What's going on here?

" "I have no idea," Krzysiek replied, sitting down next to her. "Let me just tell you, I really, really miss waking up tomorrow. When the sun rises, when I can see everything in the daylight. And I want to sleep, a good night's sleep. That usually helps.

" "You're right. But for now, it's pitch black, Tofik, my beloved, is occupying the couch. There's no electricity. Kes and I wandered through the forest for two hours, even though I could have sworn I knew the way...

" "Aha. You wandered through the forest together, right?

" "No. Hey, Krzysiek! What are you accusing me of?

" "Nothing. But you know what? We had our own adventure too. We took a boat, sailed out to the middle of the lake, it was beautiful and romantic... You know. Us, the moon, the stars...

" "...and at the end I broke the muffler," Michał sighed. "Wait. You say you took a boat? You came through the forest.

" "We moored somewhere else. Because..." He fell silent.

"Because what?"

"Wait. That's impossible. We docked... How long? Ten minutes ago, fifteen? The water was at a normal level. Otherwise I would have noticed... Man... I don't like this.

" "You're rocking.

" "I'm not rocking. Holy crap! The fastest ebb in the history of the earth.

" "But why didn't you come here?"

Krzysiek briefly summarized his adventure. Michał, of course, didn't believe him. Marta interrupted their argument about who was right and who was making it up.

"Mr. Henio isn't home. He's nowhere at all. I called out, and nothing. Saba's in the kennel. And he didn't go anywhere without the dog... Krzysztof, I'm scared...

" "Calm down, Martuś. Everything will be okay.

" "He's right. Come on. It's time for bed. We're not drinking today. And we'll talk everything over in the morning."

Entering the cottage, they noticed Tofik and Kes, fast asleep on one of the couches. Quietly, so as not to wake them, they went upstairs. Michał locked himself in Kes's bedroom. Marta and Krzysiek, without even changing, collapsed onto their mattress. They were too tired. They fell asleep immediately, a sleep as hard as a diamond and as deep as the ocean

.

Marta glanced at her watch. It was nearly four. Strange. It should be getting light by now. It was the last thought that crossed her mind before she fell back into a deep sleep.

She dreamed of Mr. Henio's house, a tiny cottage built of wood, steel, and brick, the mortar between which, of questionable quality, would peel away if touched. Saba barked furiously, struggling against the chain. Marta walked toward the door, absolutely certain she wanted to open it, yet terrified to the core, for something told her she should flee, turn immediately, and run through the forest, anywhere, as long as she was away from this place. But she walked, unwavering. Every step was accompanied by the crunch of gravel. She walked, guided by an irrational logic that can only be found in dream fantasies.

The door opened gently and silently. In reality, it creaked mercilessly.

Mr. Henio was hunched over his desk, his back to her. The lamp hanging from the ceiling swayed as if someone had kicked it. Shadows danced across the unmade bed, the carpet, and the old dresser, socks spilling from its drawers. Mr.

Henio muttered something under his breath.

She approached.

She could still escape. She could. But she didn't. Instead, she placed a hand on her sweaty shoulder.

Mr. Henio turned, revealing his face: yellow, wrinkled, contorted in a painful grimace. In his bloodshot eyes, she saw a joy so absolute it was inhuman, mingled with fear and desperation. He grabbed her. She felt his slimy fingers tighten around her hand. She didn't try to free herself. Something told her to listen to the words escaping her chapped lips:

"So you're finally here, baby," Mr. Henio said, piercing her with his gaze. "Finally. Everything will be fulfilled, actually... It's being fulfilled. Oh, yeah."

He burst into a hollow, ragged laugh.

"Don't you want to look under the rug? No? Really, it's worth it, there's knowledge there that gives power the great ones of this world never even dreamed of. But. This world. Did you know, child, about the passages? The enclave? The city, sunken centuries ago? Did you know about the Great Ones? You didn't. And now you'll find out. In person. Hahhhh. Are you sure you don't want to pull the rug back? Go downstairs, to the basement that only your dad knew about, who, by the way, kicked the bucket because he got his letters mixed up? Yes. You're right. He spent a looooong time down there. He tried to play with the Book. He thought he'd understand it. Oh, child – poor thing. I feel sorry for Daddy. But you have to give him credit for that. He was close. Unfortunately. One letter. And what? A warped incantation. Madness. Hmm. But you..."

He coughed. Drops of blood spattered the countertop.

"You did it. Finish it. Correctly. You didn't find me today. You see. I'm no longer there, not in your world. I've been awakened. And you will awaken too. HE has come. You caused him to rise from his underwater lair. You will receive your reward, your ETERNAL reward. Do you know, child, when this lake was created? Shall I tell you? I will tell you... Well, it was created exactly a BILLION years ago, even before time was born, BEFORE time, child," he cackled. "And now I'm done, you can go, but I have to tell you this... Now, on your ear. Lean in." She obeyed. Hot breath brushed against her ear. "He THANKS you. Thank you SO MUCH. Now go. Collect your... Khhhhh... Zahzoth..." He trailed off, his eyes wide. Thick, yellow liquid dripped from his nose. The caretaker jerked back, throwing back his arms. One of his ears turned black and detached from his body, hanging by a thin tendon. After a moment, he wiped his nose and choked on yellow phlegm. He looked at Marta again, but his eyes were no longer human. His eyelids had turned gray, becoming transparent. His eyes resembled two festering blisters. A hideous, gurgling sound erupted from within his skull.

"Go collect your reward. WAKE UP! HE'S grateful!!! He wants you IN HIS HOUSE!!"

She

jumped up with a scream. It was still dark, though the clock hands showed ten o'clock.

"What's wrong with you, Martunia?"

"Krzysztof... God... I had a terrible dream.

" "What?" he asked, turning to face her.

She screamed.