We didn't even notice when she disappeared.

  As if she dissolved into the greenery.

  And then our bodies took over.

  We were truly hungry.

  We sat at the table.

  At first cautiously.

  Then without restraint.

  The food was... incredible.

  Baked fish with a crisp golden crust — tender inside, melting, with a light aroma of lemon and herbs. The vegetables were glossy, as if brushed with transparent honey, yet their taste was fresh and rich, with a gentle sweetness. Warm bread with a thin crust and a soft, almost buttery center.

  There were salads with delicate slices of unfamiliar fruits — something between pear and mango, with a refreshing tang. Small pastries filled with cheese and greens — hot, steaming inside.

  The drinks shimmered in crystal glasses — pink with faint bubbles, thick golden, and a translucent bluish one that smelled of mint and something floral.

  "This is... better than a restaurant," Lia whispered.

  Jo-Jo only nodded, already chewing.

  And then I felt something touch my leg.

  I looked down.

  "Pi-pu!" I breathed.

  He stood beside my chair.

  In his little hat.

  As always.

  I was so happy I almost cried. He looked completely calm, his eyes shining.

  Bridget approached him carefully. Slowly. Politely.

  Pi-pu looked at her attentively without stepping back. Then he sneezed. Gently touched her with the tip of his tongue, as if tasting.

  Bridget froze.

  Didn't growl.

  Didn't bark.

  Just sniffed him again.

  And with one light movement Pi-pu jumped onto my lap.

  I hugged him.

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  And then I noticed:

  his hat was torn.

  In the back.

  Near the tail.

  The fabric was ripped, as if something had caught or burned through it.

  I ran my fingers over the hole.

  My heart gave an unpleasant stab.

  "Who is that?" Lia and Jo-Jo asked at the same time.

  I stroked Pi-pu.

  "His name is Pi-pu," I said softly. "He... lives with me."

  "Lives?" Jo-Jo repeated.

  "Yes."

  They exchanged a look.

  Meanwhile Pi-pu settled in more comfortably and, as if nothing had happened, reached toward the plate, carefully examining the food.

  "What is he exactly?" Jo-Jo asked cautiously. "Is he... an animal?"

  I smiled.

  "This creature is called Shi-mu," I said. "I don't know much myself. Honestly. I only know one thing — he is absolutely adorable."

  I gave him a piece of dessert — something creamy and nutty with a thin layer of chocolate. He ate neatly but quickly, closing his eyes in pleasure.

  We ate too. Tried everything. Talked about the evening. About Phil, the creatures, everything.

  We couldn't taste it all — the table was overflowing.

  And no one came to us.

  As if this corner was temporarily only ours.

  When we were finishing our softly glowing transparent cocktails, Alexander appeared.

  He looked composed. Sat beside us.

  "Thank you. For everything. For the delicious food and cocktails," Jo-Jo said.

  Lia nodded.

  "This is the strangest and most wonderful Christmas... Thank you."

  I said quietly, "Thank you very much."

  "It's nothing," Alexander replied. "I'm glad you regained your strength. You'll need it tonight."

  "What's happening?" I asked immediately.

  "The ancient Lactimol is still unconscious, unfortunately," he said quietly.

  "I think within the hour everything will begin for Phil. The second fruit is already visible."

  "How visible?" Lia exhaled.

  "It's rising to the surface. Under Phil's skin."

  Alexander reached toward Pi-pu, stroked him — and froze.

  "The hat is torn," he said softly.

  And then Pi-pu spoke.

  Not just squeaked — spoke.

  In a thin, quick, plaintive language. With intonations. Pauses. Complaints.

  He waved his little paws, pointed at his tail, at the edge of the hat, spoke again — clearly emotional.

  Jo-Jo, Lia and I stared with open mouths.

  "He... talks?" Jo-Jo whispered.

  Alexander nodded.

  "I know, I know," he replied to Pi-pu. "Wanda will knit you a new one. You're very brave. I'm proud of you."

  Pi-pu straightened. Puffing up proudly.

  "You understand him?" I asked. "What did he say?"

  Alexander hesitated.

  "I didn't want to upset you," he said quietly.

  "Tell me," I insisted.

  He exhaled.

  "Grun entered your chimney. Pi-pu was there. He noticed first. Tried to stop him."

  I looked sharply at Pi-pu. He sat quietly, head lowered.

  "The Gruns have begun using some ancient magic," Alexander continued.

  Cold spread inside me.

  "Baby, you're not hurt?" I asked.

  "No, Pi-pu wasn't injured, but the filthy Grun managed to get into the chimney. The dome activated. Tore him into small stones. Unfortunately... along with part of the fireplace."

  "And the hat," Alexander added. "Grun tore Pi-pu's hat."

  Pi-pu squeaked softly and turned away.

  "It was a gift from Gunya and Wanda. They knitted it. He says he's cold again with the hole. And upset."

  I blinked.

  "So it wasn't you knitting?" I asked. "And Bridget's coat?"

  Alexander smiled slightly, embarrassed.

  "It was a small performance to mislead. Forgive the lie... The pteroseruses knit them. When the seruses from Korea brought Shi-mu eggs and they hatched from their Cuna, it became clear they freeze here. They began getting sick. The pteroseruses created threads from Fliirus vines and other plants. These threads warm. And... calm."

  He looked at Pi-pu.

  "Shi-mu don't have mothers. Cuna was their cradle. The hat acts like a mother's presence. It stabilizes them."

  Something tightened painfully inside me.

  "Wanda knitted Bridget's coat," he added. "You saw her when you regained consciousness after..." he paused.

  "After the attempted murder," he finished quietly, smiling slyly.

  He looked at me gently.

  "Wanda will knit Pi-pu a new hat. He asks that the old one be unraveled and re-knit from the same threads."

  Pi-pu lifted his head and spoke rapidly.

  Alexander nodded.

  "He says it's very important. The threads still hold care. It mustn't be lost."

  I gently stroked Pi-pu's back.

  Then I remembered.

  "Wait... I forgot to tell you. I got a call when you left. About chimney inspection. Very persistent. Rude. I refused. Said I was sick. I was afraid they'd see Pi-pu."

  "Interesting. Not a coincidence," Alexander said calmly. "Likely Gruns. They probably planned to send someone processed. Through an official service. The easiest way to infiltrate." He looked at me seriously. "Good thing you refused."

  "So... Pi-pu saved me again. Then. And now."

  Alexander nodded.

  "Yes. And the house as well."

  Pi-pu snorted softly, embarrassed.

  "The fireplace is repaired," Alexander added. "A bit different, but functional. I replaced the door lock."

  "The main thing is Pi-pu is alive," I said. "And Grun didn't get under the dome. I'm afraid to use the fireplace anyway."

  Alexander straightened.

  "If you don't mind, I need to return to the ancient Lactimol and Phil. The situation may change at any moment." He looked at each of us. "You may stay here and rest."

  Jo-Jo and I exchanged a glance. Lia nodded first.

  "We're going with you," she said quietly. "There's no point pretending this doesn't concern us."

  I stood too.

  "Yes. We're going."

  Alexander held my gaze a moment longer than necessary. Something warm flickered there — gratitude... and something unspoken.

  "Good," he said. "Then stay close to me."

  Pi-pu moved ahead as well, as if he already knew the way.