Thirty minutes before midnight, a strange group went out through the west gate of d’Ornia’s capital. It could have been the right subject for a painter who’d want to study human nature. Opening the way, the war stead, lead by the bridle by his master, Diago. The slow pace of the stead was matched by the man. He walked like to a funeral, crying, his head down. Many things were on his head. First, he had to leave behind his beloved dog, Monster, and his second horse, which made him very sad. Second, his wife didn’t even want to escort him to the rendezvous, and the goodbye had been lukewarm at best.

Just behind his sorrowful march were Missy and Roybert. She leaned heavily on him, touching his arm with her breast as often as she could. The knight had come back in the evening, pretending just to want to see if all is all right, and she had invited him to dinner then to escort them: “Oh, I’ll feel so much safer with you around!”, “Oh, but how could I let a beautiful lady walk alone in the fields at night?” Immediately after they were through the gate, she pretended to have hurt an ankle and asked for his support, which he gladly accorded. She was chatting very merrily for someone with a hurt ankle.

Behind them, two frowning men: Istaìnn and the Governor. The Governor was upset with the interest the knight showed to his daughter; he saw him as a dangerous seducer. The spy was thinking precisely the opposite.

He’s like a lamb in the hands of the butcher! I have to warn him else he’s done for! He’s a fianced man; for Providence's sake, he should keep his distances! Even if he’s a noble, he’s a fellow Ohstian first.

Then, behind the two men, again a lively scene: the two princesses, chatting. Feyra was happy and excited because Elven culture was one of her passions, while Heyra was very much interested in the practical knowledge she could learn from the elves.

And finally, closing the cortege, Lau, who was almost sleep-walking.

Exactly half an hour after they had left the city, they arrived on the field, a very flat and wide one with only an isolated tree in the middle.

“Common, elf, get out! I know you’re behind the tree!” shouted the spy.

“How did you saw me?” asked the elf, appearing. He looked genuinely surprised.

“Hm, I didn’t need to see you,” sneered the spy. “It’s the only tree around, and the straws are cut short. Where else could you have been? What were you doing, trying to impress us with your elvish hiding skills?”

The elf sulked; it was clear that he had tried just that. He asked with a gloomy tone.

“How many of you are coming with me?”

“Us five and the steed,” arrived the answer, accompanied by hand signs showing whose concerned.

The elf jerked like he had been stung with a needle in those anatomic parts people use to sit on.

“That will be impossible! The horse stays, I’ve told you, no horses!”

“And if you told us, so what?” replied the spy, hands on his hips. “How do you dare to order us around? It’s a horse, why do you make such a big deal? And by the way, where are your horses?”

The elf sighed deeply, stating to himself - “This is a tough assignment!” – before replying to the spy.

“You’ll see immediately why we can’t take the horse.”

He stuck his index in his mouth, felt the wind, then extracted a strange device from his pocket, pressed a button, and threw the device into the field. The object started to emanate a pulsating light.

“Bioluminescence, or maybe some chemical reaction. Definitely not electric. This elven technology is most interesting…” heard Istaìnn Feyra’s words behind him.

He didn’t catch Heyra’s words because he ducked in a panic. From above, a huge shadow leaned toward them, as big as a whale. A rope fell on the ground; the elf took it and tied it around the tree.

“What’s that?” asked Diago suspiciously, putting his hand on his greatsword handle.

“Our transportation!” replied the elf proudly.

The princesses were debating fiercely.

“You see, I’ve told you!” “Semi-rigid or just a blimp? Helium or hydrogen?”

The colossal shadow was a construct; under the oblong shape was a cabin. A rope ladder was thrown to the ground.

“It’s a dirigible!” explained Heyra, enthusiastic. "Soon, Ohst will construct them too; the University is testing them for a few years now.”

“I will not set foot in such a thing,” promptly said Istainn. “I know very well about those tests. One of the pilots was my neighbor. Was is the important word here.”

“You don’t need to worry,” said the elf with a calming tone. “This thing flyes for over five years now; it’s perfectly safe. Now say your goodbyes, leave the horse to your friends, and let’s go.”

“Your most estimable elfishness, you don’t get it, do you? I don’t care how you do it, but he comes with us. He’s part of our group.”

“HOW?” shouted the elf. “SHOW ME HOW TO GET HIM UP IN THE BLIMP AND I’LL TAKE IT!”

“Well,…, can’t you just bring it closer to the ground?” asked the spy, scratching his head.

“Maneuvering a dirigible is a tricky business,” said Feyra, and he looked at her with sorrow.

“Traitor, on who’s side are you?” his eyes replied to her.

“Exactly,” profited the elf. “And I don’t know if we can carry so much weight!”

Heyra saved the day, or maybe the night.

“What’s the payload, and how many people are now in the blimp?”

“About six thousand pounds, it’s a small blimp. There are three people now aboard.”

“Well, we are not so heavy, even with the horse,” stated Heyra. “Don’t you have a ramp? I suppose you don’t use only that ladder.”

The elf’s will and opposition collapsed. He began shouting upward, some voices replied, and in a mixture of elvish, common-tongue, and unknown, a solution was found.

“They’ll lower the blimp as low as they can,” said the elf. “They’ll throw more ropes, and you’ll have to pull them as I’ll instruct you to. This will be risky; say goodbye now. You’ll be busy afterward.”

They hugged each other, a pretense for the spy to whisper in Roybert ear.

“You better beware. That kid is trouble. She looks like a bottle of pure spring water, only inside is a sixty degrees moonshine. It’s friendly advice!”

“Moonshine works fine for me!” whispered back the knight.

“Now, pull the ropes!” asked the elf.

A few other ropes were thrown down and pulled by everyone here and there as the elf asked. Slowly, the blimp approached the ground until it was only two feet away.

“Mind the ramp!” shouted the elf.

Two large wooden planks, twelve feet long by one wide and two inches thick, were lowered until they touched the earth. They had a steep angle, but the access was doable.

“Go, with the horse, hurry!”

Diago pulled the bridle and went up to the ramp, fast enough that Pumpkin had no time to think about what he was doing. Even at two inches thickness, the planks bent terribly. However, in just a few seconds, the two were in the blimp’s cabin.

“Up, in the order I say! Go: girls first, now you, the stubborn one, now the archer, and I’ll follow. Pull the ramp in!” ordered the elf once all were inside.

Istaìnn and Lau drew the planks inside, then rested them on the floor, near the walls. The ones on the ground were struggling with the ropes. It was awkward: one chief of state, its daughter, and a knight, pulling ropes like they were porters, but necessity is the mother of all things.

“Let go! Brace yourselves!” yelled the elf.

Suddenly, the dirigible jerked up; the first rope, the one tied to the tree, had been cut as well.

For a second, the ones on the ground saw the silhouettes of their friends diminishing. Missy shouted: “Good luck!”, then the blimp shut its door and melted into the darkness.