He folded the sheet, put it in his coat, and invited the girls to go to the lower elven city. They got out of the University, heading downhill. That was the first time the girls set foot in the elven town and loved it; the tree-houses and large avenues were picturesque. After fifteen minutes, they reached a restaurant. The spy escorted them to the upper floor, on a terrace set in the branches of the tree, and pulled the chairs for them, politely, like a true gentleman.

“Hi, Toshamiel,” he saluted the owner. “Coffee, lemonade, and pancakes for everyone, please.”

“Sure, Istaìnn. I see today it’s a nice day. Sun and beautiful ladies.”

“Oh, you remembered I like lemonade,” purred Feyra. “How nice of you!”

“I come here every day, in between those training sessions. The owner is very nice, the coffee acceptable, and the food delicious.”

Heyra almost gagged with fury. She was fuming.

“And you come here alone, letting us cook for you every day, for naughts?” she asked. “I wondered why didn’t you ate my soup!”

“Well… I was kinda avoiding you…,” confessed the spy. “You know, that mummified carcass stuff… Ah, cuz, just wait, I’ll skin you alive for that!”

The owner of the restaurant brought them the drinks first. They started to sip the lemonade through the straws.

“Go on, tell us about the magic,” pushed him Heyra.

“Yes, Istaìnn, please tell me what about the magic!” said Feyra, putting a hand again on his, like in the library.

He gathered all his strength and tried to put an order in his thoughts.

“Things are very different from what he said. Totally different. The recordings opened my eyes. Do you remember what Faredhiel said about the life-force field? That’s total nonsense. Actually, when you understand what’s going on, it’s straightforward to do magic. First, there are not one but three force-fields around. One is like a sort of pure energy…”

“Like electromagnetism?” asked Heyra.

“Not really. I mean, I don’t know, but I don’t feel it’s magnetic. It’s a sort of grid of energy, leylines, and nodes, everywhere. It’s like the Continent has this unique energy of its own. The second energy field is like the life-force Faredhiel talked about because it is indeed produced by each living thing.”

“Well, that sounds exactly like the life-force field he was talking about!” said Feyra.

“Yes, but it’s different; I have a hard time explaining because I just discovered it. Do you see this coffee and this lemonade? I have choices in front of me: Should I drink the coffee? Should I drink the lemonade? Should I mix the two in another cup and drink that?”

“Yes, if you are insane!” joked Heyra.

“See, it’s not the life-force, but the choices every person could make which have this energy potential.”

“He’s talking about a probabilistic field, sis!” stated Feyra. “But that’s an abstraction!”

“I can assure you, it’s not abstract at all! I’ll put it in words, but it’s beyond that. Imagine the first energy field, like the light of the sun falling on a meadow. Then the second like the wind who’s bending the flowers and the grass. Those two interact in our minds and create a third energy field. That’s magic!”

“And it’s not hard to do magic? Can you teach us?” demanded Heyra.

“Yes, I think in time you’ll be able to do magic too. You see, there are many ways to do magic. As my cousin said, almost everyone uses it at a low level. Imagine water running over a rock; in time, it will dig a groove. Likewise, magic will pour into every talent someone develops. You two are the most splendid women in the Realm. Magic sees this, like this, and it keeps flowing to your beauty like a cloud of butterflies over the flowers of the meadow…”

“Oh, dear! That was indeed a beautiful compliment,” said Feyra sincerely.

“And to your intelligence and wisdom too,” he added. “I could swear Diago or Lau use magic as well for their martial talents. But then comes the next level. When you understand what magic is and you find a way to use it. That’s really hard, indeed. You need to understand it first, and to understand it, you need to be aware of it. Then, you can shape it with your will and turn it into spells, if you’re lucky enough to have the ability and what you need around.“

Saying that, he took a sip of coffee.

“You need coffee to do magic?” joked Heyra.

“N’ ” he tried to deny, with his mouth still full. “I need you. When you are around, magic happens.”

“I agree, my friend. Love is magic, indeed,” said Toshamiel while putting the pancakes on the table. He had heard his words and interpreted them as a love confession.

They blushed, all three of them.

“What do you mean?” asked Heyra. “Let’s assume you… care for… one of us, is that what makes you do magic?”

He sighed.

“I’ll try to show it to you. I will try a spell; let’s see if it works. Give me your hands. And don’t be afraid that mummying stuff was a blatant lie.”

They held hands, forming a triangle. He closed his eyes, and the princesses followed the example. Slowly, he expanded his power, touching their minds and connecting his to theirs. He showed them his childhood memory, his accidental presence at their baptism, the inspiration his company gave to the King, and the King’s words.

“...To both, I wish you to be happy and to bring happiness and fortitude to those nearby. May you have the longest reign ever, and don’t fear love because in love lays the truth...”

The old tongue words have worked like a spell, and without the monarch’s knowing, that spell had connected them. The king had wished the girls to bring happiness and fortitude to those nearby. Nearby, along with the king, was Istainn. Imperceptibly, unwillingly, his memories slid forward, to his breathlessness when he had seen them in Missy’s room, dressed in nightgowns and bathed by the sun. He tried to pull his hands, but the girls showed no mercy; they stuck their nails in him again, keeping him prisoner until they saw all: his terror at the thought the monsters will catch the princesses, his pain when Heyra was enamored of Diago, his desire for Feyra, his struggles against it, his deep, deep feelings for both.

When they opened their eyes, tears were flowing like a river on all their six cheeks. They still keep their hands tied together like they didn’t want to let go ever.

“Let’s eat the pancakes, or they’ll get cold,” he said at some point. The girls both caressed him on a cheek, wiped their tears, and ate.

“I’m sorry, sis!” said Feyra. “Let’s wait; things will get clearer in time. We’ll see what is to be done.”

“I agree,” sighed Heyra. “But don’t expect me just to roll over. It will be a fair competition.”

And he didn’t notice the exchange; sometimes, a good pancake makes a man totally thoughtless.

“So, we are a sort of battery, for you, or as a magnifying glass for the sunlight?” asked Feyra.

“Yes. It’s the last recording that showed me the truth. That juggler, he was taking magical energy from the others. I will try to juggle some other things, not knives, to see how easy or hard it is. What I felt is that that kid had formidable powers, though. Transmuting metal into soap bubbles… it looked funny, but I think that’s next to impossible.”

“And because we’re connected, your magic abilities work in our presence,” followed the princess. “But how did you managed to do magic in the Old City and vanquish such a formidable foe? “

“I can do magic anyway, but it is not as easy, and I had no experience or knowledge. Desperation might have helped me to overcome my limits, in that, Faredhiel was right. When I tried to do magic in the Forest, I always went away from the group, so I didn’t have the opportunity to feel this empathy. But now that I know doing magic in your presence is as easy for me as drinking this lemonade. And as delicious as this lemonade is, our empathy is deliciouser. All that delightful magic empowered by your beauty and wisdom is… beyond words. The sensation is overwhelming, like a good wine in a happy moment… It feels like small drunkenness indeed, and thus, what Faredhiel did is beyond evil. Would you willingly blind someone and tell them that seeing is evil? That light is a sin? That’s what he did! And it’s not an error. If you have magic powers, and he does, you cannot miss our connection. Why? Why did he try to stop me from doing magic? This is very worrying. What games does my cuz play? Who’s side is he really on?”

“Look, damn that elf for now!” asked Heyra. “Let’s enjoy this moment; it’s glorious. I begin to feel our connection better and that magic and power fields you talked about. Let’s have another round of coffee, lemonade, and pancakes.”

They did that, eating slowly, enjoying their connection, and the sun playing with the leaves and on their table. Finally, Feyra asked:

“And now what? Should we return to d’Ornia?”

“No, sis,” replied Heyra. “Now we prepare our own coup; we’ll take over the elven lands. When we’ll show the proof to Rheldoriel, the biggest of Lau's fans, whom do you think he’ll follow? And the elves from the poetry club, the archers, who adore Lau, and those trained by Diago? And Ulfsen, who fainted after we installed the first steam machine gun on his blimp? Let’s regroup and prepare to kick his majesty the Dean’s butt.”