Along the dusty road leading to the old house on the outskirts, a rider galloped at full speed. The horse wheezed, covered in white foam, and a huge, overstuffed bag slammed against the man’s side in rhythm with the frantic ride.

  He jumped from the saddle before the horse had fully stopped and, stumbling, rushed to the door.

  BAM-BAM-BAM!

  His fist pounded against the wood so hard the hinges groaned.

  “Greg!! Greg, open up! Hey! Are you home?!”

  Silence.

  Dead. Frightening silence.

  He struck the door again. Harder. Desperation cut into his voice.

  “Paltus…” he growled through clenched teeth. “Answer me… please…”

  From behind the neighbor’s fence, a messy-haired head cautiously peeked out. The same shepherd boy Greg had recently discussed sheep with.

  “You looking for Greg?” he asked quietly.

  The man spun around so sharply he almost knocked down an invisible opponent.

  “Yes! Where is he?! How is he?! Is he… is he still here?”

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  The boy sniffed.

  “If you mean Greg… He’s got white hair and blue eyes now, right?”

  The color drained instantly from the man’s face. His lips began to tremble.

  “…white? Blue?..” he whispered, as if someone had just handed him a death sentence.

  “I… I didn’t make it in time?..”

  The boy let out a heavy sigh, imitating adults.

  “You’re too late. He probably… got eaten by demons.”

  The man froze.

  He stared at the boy with glassy eyes.

  One second.

  Two.

  And then he suddenly doubled over and BURST OUT LAUGHING.

  “Demons?! Ate Paltus?!” He laughed hysterically, tears running down his face. “Kid, if demons tried to eat him, they’d choke and die of indigestion!”

  The boy frowned, offended at being dismissed.

  “I’m serious! And I’m not a kid. One of his eyes turned half black, his hair half black too… He was running around, panicking… Asking things he should already know…”

  The laughter stopped just as suddenly as it had begun.

  Real, sticky horror spread across the man’s face. As if he had just seen the Abyss itself.

  “…oh no.”

  “What?” the boy didn’t understand.

  “Oh no-no-no-no…” the traveler muttered, clutching his head and raking his fingers through his hair.

  “What do you mean ‘no’?”

  “I’m too late.”

  He grabbed the reins with shaking hands.

  “Where did he go? Quickly!”

  “To… the forest, I think,” the boy backed away nervously from the madman. “That way. Down the path.”

  The man froze for a moment, staring up at the sky, and whispered as if in prayer:

  “How could I be late… God…”

  He swallowed hard.

  “Paltus, please… don’t make a mess of it… Please don’t repeat the past… Wait for me… Just once in your life, you fool, wait for me!”

  He vaulted into the saddle and drove his heels into the sides of the exhausted horse.

  “PALTUS! DON’T DO ANYTHING STUPID!”

  The horse bolted, carrying the rider into the forest, crashing through bushes.

  The boy stood there, watching the dust settle, and quietly, so no one would hear, said:

  “He’s already in the Capital… You’re definitely too late, mister.”