Welcome to the Advent Calendar Story Train, where you can read through 24 stories under this year’s theme, Lost.

The woods were quiet, just the gentle rustle of branches in the night breeze above, and the quiver of small creatures in the undergrowth. There was plenty of light, this wasn’t a dense forest, especially with the trees winter-bare, and the moon was full. Elena didn’t need the lantern she carried, but the soft gold glow was comforting and banished her not-quite fear of the dancing moon-shadows.

But she’d been walking for too long. The lantern’s oil would run out soon. And she couldn’t have taken a wrong turn. There weren’t any, just a simple track through the trees. It started at her side gate and ended at the front door of the cottage Mrs Grayson Senior had moved to when her son, James, had asked Elena to marry him. They’d both tried to convince her otherwise, that there was more than enough room in the smith’s village house. But she’d insisted. “You need your own space, and so do I. We’ll get along the better for it.”

And it was that consideration which kept Elena caring for her husband’s mother, a year after he’d disappeared. And it was a year exact. Tonight was Midwinter’s Night.

Wait. Was that the problem? It couldn’t be. It was just an old story, a silly superstition. The doors that opened to the fae courts at the old turnings of the year were just fanciful tales for children.

Her lantern died, but a new light appeared, the same cold silver as the moon. The woman carrying it looked to be made of moonlight as well. Ice-blue clothing, pale skin, white hair, ageless, tall and willowy, with features too fine and sharp to be human.

She spoke. “What do you want of the Fae this midwinter night?”

Elena clutched her cloak tighter around her. “Nothing. I got lost.”

The Fae frowned, a small crease between her brows. “Is there truly nothing you wish for in this world?”

Elena’s laugh was humourless. “Nothing you can provide.”

Now the fae smiled, small, but smug, like a satisfied cat. “I may surprise you. Tell me.”

“I wish for my husband back. But only if he wants it.” Even after a year, James’s absence ached. Not knowing where he was, if he was even alive, if he’d left her willingly and was happy with someone else, or was forced, imprisoned. That was what ate away her nights.

“What would you give in return?”

What did Elena have that a fae might desire? This was dangerous. “What do you want?”

“I want to rid myself of an unintended burden.” The fae beckoned. “Your husband, he’s a metal worker, yes? Missing since last year.”

“That’s correct.” Elena’s heart had moved to her throat, pounding so hard she could barely breathe. “What happened?”

“He took a cutting from my blue rose bush.” The women’s mouth turned down at the memory. “He said the roses were for his beloved. That she would create blue dye for her cloth from the blooms.”

Elena clenched the fist not holding the now-useless lantern, as she held back tears. How stupidly, adorably, typical of him. Thinking only of a gift for her, and not his own danger. Everyone knew the fae extracted a heavy price for things taken.

The fae continued. “He’s become quite an irritation. Trapped humans send misery into everything they touch. So I made his payment light.” She turned towards an arch created by two trees. “I demanded twenty items of metal, as lasting and beautiful as he could make them. I don’t want poor quality work, after all. The magic took hold, and in the entire time he’s been here, your husband has only completed three projects, each more beautiful than even I can describe.”

Elena groaned. James’s skill was exceptional, his standards ridiculously high. With magic forcing compliance to his own perfectionism, he would never be free of such a contract.

On the other side of the trees was a clearing with a small house. On one side of the house was a smithy, half-open to the elements as James’s was, back in the village. But this one was small, and the ringing sound of hammer on metal wasn’t the heavy clang of iron pots or horseshoes, but high and melodic, like when James made fine steel pins for her sewing.

“If you wish to take your beloved home, you must ensure he fulfils his bargain.” With that, the fae drew back into the forest.

Elena crossed the clearing at a run, stumbling to a halt at the edge of the smithy.

“James.”

It was him, tired, and gaunt. He was working a small, thin disc of silver into a waving curve, probably a petal to join the gleaming metal rose sitting on the workbench.

He looked up at her voice, resigned, then astounded, then frightened. “Elena. You can’t be here. If they find you…”

“She already did and led me here.” She rounded the battered wooden table and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m taking you home.”

The fae appeared from the dark. “How will he fulfil his bargain?”

The light ring of James’ hammer, and the memory of his gifts for her sewing, gave Elena the answer. “Seventeen pins. Beautiful in their simplicity. Ornate pins are useless in securing fabric. These must be plain and smooth, or they will be ugly.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince the magic, or James.

The woman inclined her head. “My demand is seventeen pins.”

Hope rose in James’ expression as he set to work. Scant hours later he was done. He’d made so many pins for Elena in the time he’d been courting her, he could have done it in his sleep.

The female fae took them with visible pleasure. “These are lovely, truly. Your bargain is complete” She pointed towards a narrow path by the house. “At the end of that you’ll find the clearing where the old woman lives.”

Elena and James stepped onto the path, then stumbled as mist swirled. When it lifted, there was the cottage, with Mrs Grayson Senior at the door.

That night, the cottage was full of tears, laughter, and stories. The next morning, they found a small rose bush outside the door, the flowers an unusual shade of blue.

A voice floated on the wind. “Enjoy the gift you paid for so dearly. And keep your miserable metal-smith out of my woods.”

Thank you for reading today’s story. The next story will be available to read sometime on the 5th December, titled “Lost on the Moors“. This link will be active tomorrow when the post goes live.

If you missed yesterday’s you can go and read it here.