It had taken much longer than anticipated to put things in motion. Meanwhile, they had moved to Toshamiel restaurant, pretending that they needed a quieter place and better food. The costs were next to nothing, the elven city had a cash problem, that was obvious. Istaìnn had told Faredhiel that he wanted to abandon magic, for now, to take fencing and archery lessons from Diago and Lau. The elf had strange happiness on its face when he heard the news, so the spy mobilized even more, exercising magic in secret, together with the girls.

People had reacted differently when they told them the story and showed them the recordings. Ulfsen wanted to kill Faredhiel’s on the spot; he agreed to wait only when he was promised that he could machine-gun his tower from the blimp if the elf would make problems. Rheldoriel took it better than expected, although the initial shock was quite strong. His own mind devised explanations. It was clear, for him, that everything right in the elven culture was already there when the humans arrived, that it was not the technological aspect that matter, but the cultural one, and strangely, despite the evidence that even their race name was of human origin, that was meaningless, because, after all, it was the humans who adopted the local religion. And now, the true elven civilization was destined to gain its well-deserved place among the other races as a factor of progress. As long he was happy, and on their side, they let him be. They told half-truths to their troops enough to make them want to dethrone the oppressor who supposedly didn’t want them to do heroic stuff and impress girls. That worked like a charm.

And days passed, twenty and five, only one to make a full month. It looked like a long time on paper, but in reality, each minute of those days was work, and each night they felled face down on their beds, drained, sleeping like rocks. Miniaturizing the communication device to the dimensions of a pocket watch. Connecting with the Archipelago, sharing the bad news with their relatives and allies. Making moves on the Archipelago’s stock market to prevent panic at the King’s death news. Fortifying the ports of their southern colonies, just in case the Others wanted to attack them as well. Connecting with d’Ornia, sending there one of the communication gadgets, finding that no Other had appeared there yet. Again, making interventions in the stock market to prepare the Archipelago for the bread-tree market collapse that was to come in a few years. Despite Faredhiel’s treason, a deal was a deal, and they saw it had more good than bad, the princesses signed the treaty. Meanwhile, Roybert had broken his previous engagement and was now engaged to Missy, which made Istainn sigh and think about the poor innocent knight he had left in the hands of the fiery girl. They asked for military advice both in d’Ornia and in the Archipelago and prepared many, many plans.

Finally, came the morning in which their troops discreetly occupied strategic places through the town and the University, a blimp took off, armed and ready, and Istainn, the princesses, Lau, and Diago, knocked at Faredhiel’s door.

No answer came, but they could hear two voices were arguing inside. The spy checked his crossbow and pressed the handle, opening the door.

“Are you mad?” they heard someone shouting. “Do you realize how much time we lost? I’ll take the matter into my own hands!”

“I forbid it! I’ll renounce pacifism and fight you if I need to!” replied a voice they knew, Faredhiel.

“Try me! I’ll obliterate you with a sneeze!” angrily replied the first voice.

They all entered, with the spy in the lead.

The one arguing with the Dean was a man dressed in the most elegant clothes they had ever seen. The white shirt was impeccably ironed, he had a deep grey redingote, pants and vest, a pale yellow tie and a pink rose in his lapel buttonhole, a Homburg hat, leather gloves, and most of all, an impressive black walking stick with a shiny crystal at the top. All his clothes screamed aloud the words: high-couture, expensive, and bespoke. His black hair was long and curly; he had a thin handlebar mustache and a goatee.

“Istaìnn, thank goodness! Shoot him, he’s an Other!” said Faredhiel, seeing the spy had his crossbow at the ready.

The spy disengaged the bolt, disarmed his crossbow, and put it back in the holster.

“Please, dear sir, continue, don’t mind us. We came here to obliterate this miserable on our own, but we recognize you were here first. We’ll just hang around and enjoy.”

“Cuz!” exclaimed the elf, scandalized.

Istaìnn exploded.

“Don’t cuz me, you filthy piece of deer droppings! You pretend we’re family, yet instead of helping me, you did your best to destroy my magical abilities! Four-hour sessions of immobility? The grammar? And meanwhile, not a single Other in d’Ornia or whatsoever, and magic is easy-peasy! I knew you’re on the Others side as soon as I’ve discovered how magic works.”

“I did it for your own sake…” began Faredhiel, but the stranger spoke over him.

“Oh, you must be the Quevedo wizard! Please, please, sit down and let me tell you the truth!”

“Shut up!” shouted the elf, but a gesture from the other walking stick had him flying in the air, land on the chair, tied and gagged with the bedsheets.

“I hope we can have a peaceful conversation,” said the spy, seeing the other’s magic, and gathering his own forces, just in case, while Lau and Diago took oblique positions, ready to attack.

“But of course, of course!” said the elegant man, rising his hands in a gesture of peace. “All I want is to talk.”

“Dn’t lsn t hm!” tried to speak the elf through the gag, but they ignored him and made a circle of chairs.

“You look familiar to me; I’ve seen you before!” said Istaìnn. “In that night, with the coup. You were talking to an officer. I have to warn you, the slightest hostile gesture will have consequences!”

“There is no trace of hostility in me!” protested the man. “All I want is a civilized conversation...”

“Well?” asked the spy. “Go on.”

“Sure, it was just not polite to start uninvited. I represent a fraction of the Others, a faction that is against the war. Unfortunately, we’re just a small minority, but we would like very much to make arrangements to defect; we want to be on the good side.”

“Then, as a gesture of good faith, tell us when will the Others attack the Archipelago!” asked Feyra. “Before or after the monsoon?”

“Sorry?” asked the man.

“Don’t pretend you don’t understand!” said the spy. “Before or after the monsoon?”

“I really don’t understand!” complained the other. “What relevance has the monsoon? And why on the Realm would the Others attack the Archipelago?”

“To control the maritime transport on the Realm, of course!” replied Heyra. “We concluded that the supposed attack on d’Ornia and the Forrest is smoke and mirrors. Your insular southern nation must be small, thus the need for subterfuge, allies, and mercenaries. No way such an entity could take over the Realm. Controlling the main transport hubs and having a network of allies, on the other hand, would make you a major player. This is the only logical hypothesis.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say he really has no idea what we’re talking about!” said the spy, looking at the Other’s face.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. All this makes no sense… safe if he – he pointed to the elf – said you nothing of importance.”

The giggles of the elf were proof he had hit right.

“Goodness, this will be hard! What do you know, exactly? Are you aware that both you, the humans, and us, the Others, arrived here from…”

“… the frozen continent of the South Pole,” affirmed Heyra.

“What?” exclaimed the stranger. “Of course not! We come from a different planet altogether. It was overcrowded and polluted. A ship was built to carry some of the humans to new places, but the crew and the help stole it from its rightful owners.”

“I’d say they did well! Those owners were just oppressors of the people!” stated Istainn, while the girls were excited and talked about exogenesis and interstellar travel.

“The truth is a little more complicated, but let’s not argue. The point is that it was a hard blow for the Others; the old planet descended into chaos and civil war. One hundred years later, they constructed a makeshift ship, calculated somehow the first one's destination, and followed. They thought…”

“That they’ll get to an already established colony and steal it!” goaded the spy. “See, you are the thieves and the oppressors!”

“Well, on that part, yes, you are right. But this is not just another planet. The Realm is in another verse of the multiverse. The Others expected to meet some poor colony, not a powerful civilization who mastered the Manipulation of Autonomous Gluons by Influence and Control.”

“The what?” asked the spy, confused.

“Magic? This was not possible on our old planet, but here it is; when the first ship landed, equivalence in the probabilistic coherence was established. Humans got magic powers.”

“If you say so…” said the spy, even more confused. The complicated words made him dizzy.

“Sorry,” intervened Feyra. “How could a probabilistic coherence appear without any previous research of the phenomenon? I’d say that…”

“No, you don’t get it!” replied the Other. “It is the Realm who established the coherence. Here, magic is normal, so the simple fact of arriving here put you in the system. And when the Others arrived, humans had over one hundred years to experiment with magic; no weapon the others had could match that. So they had to play the game, asked politely for permission to land. But instead of being allowed on the Realm, they were sent to the Second Moon.”

“The second moon is habitable?” asked Heyra.

“It is. But it’s not so nice as the Realm, far from it. Anyway, they stayed there a while, prepared, and when they thought they were ready, they tried to take over the Realm.”

Faredhiel, who had sat quietly for a while, started to wriggle in his bonds. The Other looked at him with disdain.

“But they failed; their ship crashed. That was what you call the Meteor, the Catastrophe which destroyed the Middle Countries.”

“Well, are we starting again with the dark ages?” asked Heyra. “Let’s move on. So, the elf was right, after all? You want global domination?’

“Correct. A few Others survived on the Second Moon, a skeleton crew left behind on their base. It took a long time for their numbers to grow again; they were only males, so they resorted to clones for reproduction.”

“You’re joking! Clowns?” exclaimed the spy.

“Not clowns, clones. Identical copies of an individual, grown in tubes. Anyway, a few hundred years ago, the Others developed their own magic, and they started planning again to conquer the Realm. You see, by cloning, every bit of hate those old Others had for the City perpetuated. They never forgot. A normal nation makes peace with its enemies, at some point, like you did with d’Ornia and the Coast, but one in which each individual has the same hate, carried through centuries... such a nation wants war.”

“Yet you don’t look so aggressive,” observed the spy.

“Well,…, me and my faction, we are not really Others, we’re a hybrid between Others and Realmers. The official appellation is The Credible Liars, and I’m their chief. I know, it sounds terrible to say: trust me, I’m a liar, but I do tell the truth, believe me.”

“Moment!” asked Heyra. “Let’s say we believe you. What do you offer in exchange?”

“I'll tell you how to defeat the Others, of course.”

“I don’t know,” said Istaìnn. “You were certainly involved in a lot of the dirty deeds the Others did in the City… It's hard to go over those. Maybe we could manage to vanquish our foes on our own. We did well so far.”

“I assure you, we obeyed our masters only under duress and fear. I’ve tried to sabotage their plans at every step; for instance, when a colleague intended to send some head-hunters on your tracks, I’ve convinced him to get them to d’Ornia, instead, to wait for you at your exit point.”

“Wonderful! Now I know whom to thanks for almost losing my head!” sneered Heyra. “Brilliant idea! Not!”

“It’s the elf’s fault. He was supposed to search for you in the Forest, bring you here, and tell you the real plan. Please, you highnesses, consider our request; we are desperate...”

The princesses and Istaìnn whispered among them for a minute, then Feyra spoked.

“If your help proves to be important, we’ll grant you a full pardon and allow you and your fellow liars to settle in the City or its colonies. But you better offer us some valuable information, starting just now.”

The Credible Liar bowed.

“Thank you, your highnesses. I’ll tell you everything, of course, starting with the most important part. You have to destroy the powers of the Others at the source. I’ve told you the Others developed powers; in fact, that’s not so simple. They developed the ability to connect remotely to an old artifact, the Reactor of the humans' first ship. The ship's engine, if you like.”

“The quack reactor? That cauldron who makes soup from ducks that quack?” asked Heyra. “Hey, why are you laughing? It’s not polite to laugh at a princess!”

“Sorry, sorry!” exclaimed the Liar, wiping his tears. Yes, you’re right; a beautiful and smart princess can call the reactor whatever she wants. Let it be the duck cauldron, then.”

“You connect remotely to an engine that’s over one thousand years old? After all this time, it should be rust and dust.”

“No, my lady,” answered the Liar to Feyra. “Both the Reactor and the Ship are next to indestructible, and they are hidden in the City. You’ll say, well, if there is a big ship around, how come it wasn’t found? The answer is because it’s not big; it’s gigantic. It carried one hundred thousand people, has a hemispherical shape, landed near the golf; it is so big that people consider it a hill.”

“Citadel Hill? Our own castle is built on the ship?” asked Heyra incredulous.

“Yes. The ship had been enveloped in a concrete frame, on purpose, then the Citadel was built on top. The ship’s reactor... I mean cauldron, is the source of our powers. For instance, I connect to it through my attuned crystal,” he showed them the head of his walking stick.

“Can I try?” asked the spy, extending his hand toward the object.

Both Faredhiel and the Other jerked, the Liar retreating the stick very fast.

“Goodness, no, please! The Reactor might feel you and go berserk!”

“Why, are you the only ones able to connect to it? I don’t understand!”

“Providence, I forgot Faredhiel didn’t tell you anything! In fact, we don’t truly connect to the Reactor; that would kill us; we connect to the probability of a possible Reactor that works for us. It’s like an artificial magic system. On the other hand, you can connect for real to the Reactor, but you have to reach the control room to order him to cease giving us powers. That’s why I wanted Faredhiel to search for you and bring you to me. You are the only one able to access the Reactor.”

“Me? I suppose my elven blood magic could do the trick, but why do you think I’m the only one? Why not Faredhiel? He’s a magician too. Or somebody else, there must be others…”

“This has nothing to do with magic. But, I cannot but ask, he told you that your magical abilities come from your elven blood?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” replied the spy.

“Goodness! No, your powers are not caused by your elven blood, my friend, not at all. Your powers are due to your human ancestors: Captain Quevedo of the Tortuga ship, the inventor of the Reactor and of the magic interface, and Santiago Quevedo, the most powerful wizard who walked the Realm, ever.”

The silence fell so deep you could cut it with a knife.

“Boss is both an elven and a human sorcerer prince!” said Lau. “The Boss of Bosses!”