The sound of Finn's returning wings reminded me that I needed to get back to business. Ashlyn was already busy in the kitchen. Bowing to the hawthorn tree with gratitude for its care and putting on an apron, I went to get tables and chairs for the veranda. The weather is wonderful today! What could be better than a glass of aromatic ale in the fresh forest air in the silvery light of the full moon?! Right! The only thing better could be a glass of MY ale!

I arranged the tables and chairs so that they would not interfere with the customers dancing and walking around chatting with their neighbors. Moved away, I glanced at the arrangement, and, having made sure that there would be no congestion anywhere, wiped my hands on the apron.

"Damn it! The ring!" – by wiping my hands, I felt the forgotten finding in my pocket. This is not good at all…

After making sure that Ashlyn could not see me, I approached the spring, which waters looped around my house and the surrounding area. It was as if I lived on an island. The spring, of course, was not a regular one either. At least because someone lived in it.

I hid the ring under a stone near the source, where its aura would be sealed by the power of the water, and no one would be able to sense it there.

"I'll ask him for advice later…" – I muttered to myself and went back to the pub. As I passed the hawthorn tree, I felt a slight vibration of power.

"Ashlyn!" – I shouted through the door. – "Guests are coming!"

"Excellent!" – the banshee shouted back from the kitchen. – "Everything is ready here. Welcome!"

* * *

The musicians played a lively reel, the ale flowed like a river, Ashlyn danced on a barrel, loudly beating out the rhythm with her boots, and the guests continued to arrive. Almost all the seats were already taken.

The veranda was mostly occupied by elves and noble fairies (not the greatest of course… my modest pub would hardly be honored with such visitors). Of course, the Master of the Forest came, who was sitting under the crown of an ancient hazel tree closer to the spring, and was telling something to Finn, who was greedily devouring a piece of raw wood pigeon.

Closer to the window, Gancanagh and Leannán sídhe were chirping. These two certainly had something to talk about… They were probably exchanging their new techniques for seducing the unfortunate inhabitants of Ardara. Although maybe not unfortunate… It depends on how you look at it!

Inside the pub, there were always more of those who wanted to be closer to the ale supply. I even gave Clurichaun his own barrel! It stood in the corner farthest from the entrance next to a small table, so that this noisy drinker would not disturb the other guests too much.

Closer to the entrance sat two mountain dwarf brothers. The gleam of their huge axes always kept me in good shape… At the same time, I respected them very much and loved to talk to them when I had a free minute (which I clearly will not have this night). They had countless stories about their adventures in the mountains of Erin’s various counties. Bards composed songs about their gold-digging expeditions and fights with trolls. Everyone had heard of the glorious names of Goban and Bradach. Two red-haired dwarves, huge as boulders, barely fit on my small chairs… and were drinking endless amounts of ale made with mountain herbs.

By the way, this was my best finding. Each customer's favorite type of ale was the one that contained herbs from the places where they lived. Memories of home awaken the most sincere and warm feelings, the most genuine happiness.

The Leprechaun, however, was happy to drink any type of ale. No one knows where he really lives… As for me, he probably has pots of gold hidden in every county!

I always loved to look at the guests while filling mugs with ale at the bar. Ashlyn finally stopped dancing and ran to deliver more portions of roast boar, wood pigeons and hares. I, in turn, went to hand out ale to everyone. Passing by the window, I overheard Ashlyn's conversation with Leannán sídhe.

"… Beautiful emeralds… but sapphires would suit your blue eyes so well!" – the banshee said in a voice full of admiration.

A melodious voice, like a song, came in response:

"Ah, my dear, you are absolutely right! Perhaps I will order our Goban to make me a pair of earrings with these stones. They say he is the best blacksmith in our mountains".

Aha… There was no need to spy further. The ring with sapphires definitely doesn’t belong to her. And the banshee is a good! She figured out well how to find out the information we needed without raising suspicion.

I put my load of six mugs on the dwarves table who were arguing about something and went for the next bunch. Ah, by the way, I need to somehow find out what Goban knows about the ring. If he made it, then he must have remembered it. It was very remarkable, so he probably did not forget who he made it for.

I poured another round of six mugs and was about to leave the bar stand with them when I noticed that the room had become dead silent… Even the musicians had stopped playing and were staring straight at the front door. I turned in the direction of their astonished gazes and stared at… myself. My eyebrow rose. A double ganger with golden eyes and a black cape was smiling at me.

"Free ale for everyone! " – the other me announced to the entire pub.

The real me frowned.

"Very funny, Púca. Keep it up and you won't get any ale at all, even for money!" – I yelled at the mischievous shapeshifter, causing him to gasp in fear and take his usual form. I threw the mugs on the empty table and quickly ran up to the prankster, lifting him by his long black ear.

"Ouch! Eithne! I swear, I won't do it again!" – Púca squealed, quickly realizing his future fate. He was certainly a troublemaker, but many could envy his intelligence. Although today he clearly messed up… Turning into me wasn't very smart, of course.

"Now, go and take these mugs to the guests on the veranda! They've been waiting for them for a long time because of you", – I ordered the guilty shapeshifter, finally letting go of his ear. He, in turn, quickly grabbed the mugs and disappeared behind the door. Told you – he’s smart! He didn’t even argue!

Realizing that the show was over, everyone returned to their mugs and conversations, and the music once again filled the pub with a cheerful, festive mood.

Of course, there were plenty of jokers among the fairies… Mentioned before Clurichaun for example is constantly trying to steal a barrel of ale from me when he goes home. But he doesn’t see my charms and doesn’t know that none of my property can leave my house through the portal in the hawthorn tree. But he still tries every time, and gets stuck in the branches, which always amuses me.

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