Istaìnn plunged on the floor, searching for the crossbow he’d left under the bed.

“I moved it to the wardrobe,” said the voice. “I thought: humans are violent creatures, his first reaction will be to shoot me. And you proved me right. Relax, I’m here to talk.”

The spy raised his head over the bed, prudently, taking a look at the creature.

“An elf?” he exclaimed.

“Yes, genius, I’m an elf. Brilliant deduction!”

The tall, blond man sitting on the armchair was clearly an elf. Long pointed ears, long hair tied in a pony-tail, long and thin thingers, elegant clothes, not so different from the human ones, but much more on the shabby-chic side.

“That’s all you got as sarcasm?” asked Istainn, raising painfully because he had hit the floor hard with a knee. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to keep away from any contact with humans and do your things, like dancing under the moons, playing the lute, and whatever you do?”

“How idiosyncratic! We have a much more complex culture than that, human.”

“Yes? I’m interested, tell me more. Not! What do you want from me?”

“We don’t want anything from you, human; the question is, what do you want from us.”

“You know what? All this enigmatic crap is trivial. Go impress some highschool girls if you want attention; it will not work on me. State your business or begone. And do it fast, because I kinda have an urge to call Diago up, and he has this astonishing talent of making from one person two by cutting them in half.”

“So human, so violent,” the elf sighed. “You want answers, isn’t it clear? Who is behind the plot? Don’t you want to know all the details?”

“Of course, I want to know!” replied the spy. “Do you have the answers?”

“Yes,” admitted the elf, “but I won’t tell you.”

If he’s going to play the elf riddles game or send me into some quest, I’ll just kill him! though Istainn, looking intently to the wardrobe and calculating how fast he could take the crossbow from it.

“Did I’ve mentioned I took out the magazine as well?” said the elf, guessing his thoughts. “I’ve hidden it in one of the backpacks. Honestly, relax. Your questions will be answered by our king. You have to visit him, all of you. I can tell you only this: you better follow this invitation. You’re in danger.”

“You call this news? I know we are in danger. We’re on the run for over a month now.”

“As I’ve said, our king will explain all and everything. He wrote a letter to you, I’ve left it under the pillow. Say edh’ro lekmi at less than ten inches from it, and it will open. But please, do open it only in front of all your friends, they have to know the content as well. Read it and prepare. We’ll leave at midnight.”

“We’ll not leave anywhere until you give me more pieces of information. Tell me something tangible, or we won’t budge. See? I’m not budging at all!” he said, crossing his arms.

The elf sighed again.

“Just read the letter, human. I’ll wait for you one mile from the west gate. Usually, there’s a wheat field there, but now it has been harvested. Be punctual and don’t bring any horses, we’ll take care of things. Remember midnight, west-gate, one mile, field. No horses!”

The elf raised and went to the window, opened it, and grabbed a rope, letting himself slide on it to the street. The spy rushed to look after him, but the rope, as well as the elf, were gone.

Under the pillow, a strange square of paper. It didn’t look like an envelope at all; it was just a blank piece of paper with a big wax seal in the middle. What annoyed him the most was the note near the paper. It was written in common-tongue, and it said:

The average intelligence of the human species is limited, so, just in case you forget, the letter's password is… no, not so fast; you must NOT pronounce it loud when you read this note, or the letter will open prematurely. So, pretty please don’t read this note aloud. Capisce? I think you say that in your slums, Capisce, no? Read it in your mind. Well, anyway, the words are “edh’ro lekmi.”

I swear one day I’ll kick that elf’s butt! thought the spy. Such prejudice!

Troubled by both the elf apparition and his new feelings, he sat on the bed, looking at the ceiling. He was in love with Heyra, he was sure about that, but what he had felt just minutes before for Feyra couldn't be inscribed into the “friendly thoughts” category. He sighed and sighed, over and over again. A doctor, if around, would have thought he had contracted some exotic disease.

She is so wise, yet so beautiful and HOT! he thought. I think her wisdom is what makes her so HOT! Goodness! Stop thinking about her, stop! Should I take a cold shower! Yes. No, that’s too extreme; let’s not get to masochism now… Just think that you don’t want to lose her friendship; that will help. Hey, but I have another solution to kill time. Yep, that’s it.

The other solution meant to distract him from his impure thoughts about the person he wanted to consider a friend was concentrating on the elf and getting the news to the others. He decided to consult first with Diago, who was available downstairs, but not before he recovered his crossbow. As the elf said, the crossbow was in the wardrobe, but the magazine was not in the backpack; it was still in the crossbow.

Strange! The legends say elves are supposed to be incapable of lying. Weird, but interesting!