They looked at each other, stunned. The news was strange and hard to grasp, and safe the princesses, who were better educated, and Lau, who was not so easily startled, the two other men, Istainn and Diago, had their jaws and eyes wide opened in awe. If only to wake them from their stupor, the Credible Liar continued his story.

“Allow me to continue, please. To recapitulate, most of the Others perished in the Catastrophe. The few survivors cloned themselves and built a civilization of their own on the hidden part of the Second Moon, and in time, they got magical powers, using the Reactor from a safe distance. All this time, they planned an invasion; it was due to happen in about a century.”

“All this definitely sounds crazy,” stated Feyra. “Cloning, planning revenge for centuries. Everything.”

“That guy I fought didn’t look very sane to me,” confirmed Istann.

“It is a possibility,” the Liar said. “But you have to remember that our kings read the possible futures. The planning, the moment to attack, everything, was built on that. Twenty-five years ago, on one fateful day, a huge spike in the Reactor energy almost killed all the Others. The Reactor woke by itself for a split second, but that split second was enough to scare them to the Sun and back. That day was the day…”

“uh gug huh huh nhm,” spoke Faredhiel through the gag.

“Yes, the day you gave him his name. The magic talent in your family laid latent for hundreds and hundreds of years until this elf unchained it again. Your name means…”

“The Smart One?” Feyra couldn't stop herself asking.

“Oh, it means so much more. Magic acts like it has a mind of its own. If a person’s will is strong enough, Magic will realize from the intent of his will what to do, nevermind the words. But if the intention is mushy, like for this poor excuse for a magician here, I mean Faredhiel, Magic will have to make a wild guess. The result will be either a fizzled spell or an extremely potent one. Imagine this scene, as in a piece of theater. Indulge me for a moment:

The elf puts a hand on the baby’s head.

Istaìnn, he says in the ancient tongue. His name will be Istainn.

The Magic hears him and scratches its head. It thinks: what does this creature want from me? He lives in a fictive fairytale and uses an invented language… I should just ignore him. But wait! That baby is so cuuuute! And he descends from my friends of old, the Captain, and Santiago… For his and their sake, I’ll do my best. Let’s see: Istaìnn… All right, let's start: Aistana, blessing. Close enough, hey, cute baby, you’ll be blessed and be a blessing. In? Ion, the descendant, close enough, pam-pam, let’s continue. Ista, know, well, know, knowledge, perfect. Now, intya, guessing, haha, he’ll be a real detective, intyale, imagination, super, why not? Istyar means learned man…, he indeed descends from very learned men. Iswa, wise, goes with knowledge, hm hm hm, what else, what else? Aina, blessed, well, it’s already there, but what’s better than a blessing? TWO blessings. Sairina, magic, eh, in for a penny, in for a pound. Is it just me, or the ìnn in istaìnn sound like ingwe, chief? It’s me, but who cares? Right, kid, you’ll be a chief. So, let’s recapitulate: The twice blessed descendant of learned men, chief over people, magic and knowledge, deduction and imagination. Ah, I almost forgot, Incanus? Master of the Mind? Should we do it or not? It’s a stretch, but… well, what the heck. The Twice Blessed Descendant of Learned Men, Chief over People, Magic and Knowledge, Deduction and Imagination, Master of the Mind. Splendid. Go get ‘em, tiger. You understand now what he did?” he asked, pausing.

“I didn’t understand a thing, really,” said Diago, “but you’re an accomplished artist, sir. I see you doing very well in the drama industry, both writing and performing.”

“He got a ton of blessings and magical power and the potential to be very wise and knowledgeable one day. And that duck cauldron felt him and reacted,” said Heyra.

“That’s exactly what happened. The Reactor’s Mind reacted to its new master. Because… that’s the most important part, the Reactor is controlled by the Mind, a…well, a controlling device. When the energy surge happened, the futures changed, and the Others realized their error; they had built all their plans and powers on a device that was hundred of thousands of miles away. The risks were huge; another accident could destroy them. They interpreted that event like an accident, you see. After all, the Reactor had laid dormant for centuries and centuries. So, they advanced their plans for the invasion. Because they would have attracted too much attention with their monstrous appearance, they used a tunneling spell, kidnapped some people, experimented, and created us, the Liars, to spy and do their work on the ground. Seven years after that first event, another one took place. The reactor reacted again, even more strongly. Can you guess what happened that day?”

“Our father gave us names in the old language, and he was present,” said Feyra. “We are connected, and we amplify his powers.”

“Exactly. The futures changed again. We investigated, and the only thing that happened that day in the Citadel was your birth and naming; the Others concluded that the King was a wizard who didn’t know he had abilities. Mister Quevedo’s presence there was not in the records, you see. Now they worked harder than ever to forward the invasion schedule, accelerating the clone production, making plans for a coup, hiring help, and so on. Finally, a small assault team came here and took over the City. All was well, the King was gone, the Citadel was in their hands, they even had started working on bypassing the Reactor security measures, when… another power flash from the Reactor occurred. And that was…”

“When the princesses and I met in the Embassy,” nodded Istaìnn. “I didn’t know what magic was then, but our meeting was magic on itself.”

“It was…” sighed both the princesses.

“Yes, but you see, now they were in the city. Our leader saw you with his powers, and he understood. The danger didn't come from the king, but from you, an unknown young sorcerer; a very cunning one, because you’ve escaped the archers he sent after you. Then he made a terrible mistake, or should I say a very fortunate mistake? Instead of concentrating on taking over the Reactor, he got angry, chased you… and you killed him. You don’t realize how big a victory that was!“

“Brrr!” shivered the spy. “I do realize. That guy was terrifying. I got lucky.”

“No, dear Sir. You had real courage, fought against the odds, and won. You did the impossible; you killed the unkillable. And with him gone, we, the liars, started thinking: why not change sides? Why not ally with the wizard who killed our boss? It looked like a better choice. We had a window of opportunity. Tunneling here was not possible for a while because of the planetary alignments, and our second leader was stuck on the moon. Only he could bypass the control room's security, so the Reactor was safe for a while. And then I investigated the things, retraced your steps, from the Old City to the Embassy, from the Embassy to your Professor, from him to the correspondence bureau, and then to the bureau of chores, where I found your name, put two and two together, understood who you are. I’ve thought: let’s find him, go to the Reactor, and take the Others’ powers away. We, the Liars, don’t mind it, as long we can live normal everyday lives. My only error was to trust the elf. You were in the Forest; who else was better trained to find you there? Only if I would have thought to tell him a lie, instead of the truth… Me and my big mouth! “

“STOP!” shouted Heyra, rising on her feet. “I’ve just realized it! All this time, ALL THIS TIME, the real target of the Others was not us, my sister and me, but HIM!” she pointed her finger at the spy. “HIM! I feel so… I don’t know! Humiliated? We were just some unimportant pawns in a wizards game?”

The Credible Liar rushed to comfort her, using the tone a grown-up tries to calm a child.

“Of course you were important, your highness. Very, very important; you two were on top of the list with persons to be assassinated. I should know, after all, I’ve written it with my own…err… h-hand?” he started to stutter, realizing the implications.

“See, you are important! “ said the spy immediately. “And what your reign can achieve for the City is much more essential than any wizardry power. We all fight for you and your dream of progress, my lieges, rest assured.”

“Whatever!” sighed Heyra, sitting down, still depressed.

“And you say there is another wizard as powerful as the first one?” changed the spy the subject.

“Yes, on the moon. They are called Possibility Enhancers, PE’s, in short. They can read every probability and select a favorable outcome. I cannot imagine how you killed the one from the Old City!”

“At least they are not a thousand, as Faredhiel said,” sighed the spy.

“On the moon, the Others are many, but there is only a handful here in the City. The original attack team had seven members. The PE, now departed, two Centurions, big guys, very strong, two Assasins, now only one, one was killed by your Professor, and two ForceFielders, or FF’s They are…”

“Specialists in protection force-fields, yes, it’s obvious. I’d bet one of those put a spell on the d’Ornian King’s armor,” concluded the spy. “And what do you want from me, again?”

“I want you to go to the Reactor, start it, give it the order to chase those fake ducks which provide us with power, and shut it down again. That’s very simple. It would have been done already if mister shabby-chic here didn't have other plans. That beer must have gone to his brains.”

The elf had been quiet for a while, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t up to no good. Suddenly, he freed himself from his ties, rushed to his desk, took a paper, and ate it.

“Let’sh shee how do you getsh to the Reactur nuw!” he said while chewing.

“Oh, no!” exclaimed the Liar.

“What was that?” asked Feyra.

“The only map of the ship, secret entrances and all. I stole it with great risks… if only I had imagined his treachery!”

“Me, a traitor? No, I’m no traitor, Liar. Why don’t you tell them the real truth? He lies by omission,” turned the elf toward them. “He doesn’t mention the risks of awakening the Reactor. Remember the Other Ship that he said crashed, the one that destroyed the Continent center? It did not crash, it exploded. Because Magic is incompatible with the Reactor. As soon you’ll turn it on, all the City and the southern part of the Continent will be destroyed too, and magic will be turned upside down again. That Catastrophe made accessing magic a thousandfold harder.”

“Those are only theories!” replied the Liar. “Your theories. Why did the Reactor not explode when the first ship arrived, then? Even the Others say the ship crashed; they should know better. What do you want to do, to let the Others capture the Ream? If they secure the Reactor, they will be unstoppable.”

“So what? Conquerors are conquered, too, often by the conquered civilization. In a generation or two, they’ll just sit nicely and drink espressos on some terrace. You Liars got changed by the Realm, so will they. We will sit quietly here and wait for the storm to pass. It’s the safest plan of all.”

“No, it’s the dumbest plan of all! Goodness, how naïve was I! exclaimed Feyra. “You are a coward! There’s no way we’ll let a gang of Mooners take over our City. The City is our life! We’ll assault the Citadel and tear it down, stone by stone until we’ll reach the ship, and then we’ll claw our way into it until we reach the Reactor.”

“I will ignore this insult because you are upset!” replied Faredhiel. “But consider the fact that you are isolated in our lands. I am alone here, against six, but we have over a thousand students at the University and over a hundred thousand elves in our city. Kill me, and you’ll have them all on you in no time!”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, cuz, but we are kinda dethroning you as we speak. All the elves we trained are on our side, and Rheldoriel too. Rheldoriel convoked the Board of Directors to vote your removal from Deanship. He’s the new Dean.”

“There is no way the Board of Directors would have voted to remove me!” hissed the elf. “They are all my colleagues; that would be the worst treachery among fellow universitarian and Ph.D. ‘ers.”

“We were very persuasive,” replied the spy. “We went to each of them and explained how unhealthy it would be to not vote for your removal. I think they all know by heart now the Ballad of Diago the Invictus by Lau Wei-Tsou, and how he cut a horse and a man in two with one strike. So, dear cuz, you are now just an ordinary elf and a felon. You had conspired against the best interest of the Realm, and we can just throw you in a cell and throw the key away. And if you don’t have cells, we’ll build one.”

“I doubt very much you’ll do that, cuz!” replied Faredhiel in an annoying tone. “Because you see, I have a photographic memory. That map, it’s here!” he pointed to his head. “I propose a truce. You are committed to this folly, to reach the Reactor with any price. This will lead to certain destruction. I’ll help you reach, showing you the secret passages, with one condition: you won’t do any magic near it. We’ll find a safe way to deactivate it together. It’s still folly, but sometimes we have to choose the bad from the worse.”

“Well, I see you reached an agreement!” said the Liar. “All for the better. I have to go, or the Others in the City will suspect me. I have only a few other advice: the Others have already accessed some of the Ship. I don’t know exactly how much because they never allowed me inside. I just know that the Reactor has a solid defense, though, and that until the PE comes, it is off-limits for them. But be prepared; you might meet some of them down there. My second advice would be to hurry. There are only a few days left until the moons align and tunneling became possible. It is doable to reach the Town with a blimp before that, but don’t wait too long. I’d leave tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest. But if some trouble gets in your way and you need to reach Ohst faster, use this.”

He offered the spy a small glass bead, enveloped in cotton and safely tucked in a small box.

“They are called escape-beads. Long ago, before the Catastrophe, a gang of beauhemian thieves invented them. They used these beads for strategic withdrawals if they were caught with their hand in the vault, so to speak. These ones will transport you to the Central Park of the Upper City. Just do this.”

Saying that, he took another bead from his pocket and broke it on the ground. A large soap-bubble-like sphere appeared, showing inside the image of trees.

“Providence be with you!” said the Liar, waking into the sphere and then disappearing along with it.