Berry and Staś enter a Slavic forest to pick berries, but a red-capped forest gnome leads them toward a glowing fern flower and a mystery in the Whispering Glade.
Long ago, when the summers felt warmer and the evenings rang with frog song, Berry and Staś lived in a small village at the edge of a deep forest.
One morning, they took their berry baskets and went to help their grandmother. They waved to their mother and father, then followed the narrow path beneath the trees. The forest smelled of spruce and damp earth. Sunlight flickered through the branches, and old leaves whispered softly under their shoes.
They had not gone far when a tiny gnome sprang out of the bushes. He had red hair, a red cap, and eyes that shone like glass beads. "Good morning!" he said. "I am Borowik, guardian of this forest." Berry and Staś stopped so fast their baskets nearly tipped over.
Borowik pointed to the mud beside the path. "Do you know whose tracks these are?" he asked. The children shook their heads. He laughed, leaned down, and tapped the prints. "Wolf tracks. But do not worry. Our wolf is more watchful than wild."
Before Berry could ask another question, a grey squirrel raced down from a branch, clutching a nut. "Borowik!" she squeaked. "The fern blossom has opened in the Whispering Glade!"
Borowik spun around so quickly his cap nearly flew off. "Then we must go at once," he said. His voice dropped to a whisper. "The fern blossom appears only once a year, and not everyone who looks for it finds it."
Berry and Staś looked at each other with shining eyes. "Can we come too?" they asked.
Borowik nodded, and the three of them hurried deeper between the trees. The forest grew darker and quieter with every step. An owl blinked from a branch. A robin hopped beside a stream. Somewhere far ahead, something pale and golden seemed to glow between the ferns.
When they reached the Whispering Glade, the air felt still as held breath. The golden light shimmered in the grass. Berry took one step closer, then Staś did too.
Behind them, something in the leaves gave a slow, careful rustle....