"What? Have you lost your mind? What you are asking is impossible!" Lessindra's eyes went wide and her mouth hung open in shock.

"Is it really? I don't believe that. Every enchantment can be broken somehow. I don't see how this is any different."

Andor's eyes went to Serande, who assessed him with a quiet shrewdness that made him almost doubt his resolve.

"But this has never been done!" Lessindra began talking herself into a frenzy. "And why would you even ask for something like this? What is this human girl to you?"

"It does not matter and you wouldn't understand. Break the spell and allow her to go back home. That is all I'm asking for."

Lessindra and Serande exchanged exasperated glances, but Andor leaned back in the chair, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"If you want my help, then this is my price." He wasn't backing down now. This was his chance at setting things right and he was not going to throw it away.

"Very well, consider it done. You have my word on this," said Serande, leaning towards him, "but you must know that this is not an easy feat and it will require careful planning, so don't expect this to happen in the blink of an eye."

"I understand. I will take your word for it," he said, his heart pounding madly in his chest. He barely could believe that Serande had so readily agreed to his demand.

"But, no, Serande!" Lessindra shook her head vigorously, her red locks bouncing around her face. "We would be breaking one of our most sacred laws. It would raise the king's suspicion. We cannot afford that. It could jeopardise all that we have planned." Lessindra's voice went nearly an octave higher, but Serande remained surprisingly calm.

"We will be breaking a good many other laws in the not so far future, so I wouldn't worry about one more. We have the book now on our side, remember. Just leave Xanthos to me. The only thing we need to be sure is that we move swiftly and with great care, which is why I have another favour to ask of you, Andor."

Serande rose from her seat and turned towards a small chest of drawers behind her. From the top drawer she pulled out a sealed envelope and handed it to Andor. "I need you to take this to the library of Valantes and give it to Antelisse. She is the most versed in the Ancient Tongue."

Andor took the envelope and turned it around in his hands. It was yellow with age, as if it had been kept in this drawer for a long time. "I will take it to her first thing tomorrow morning."

"Good," Serande nodded. "But make sure that you only give it to her and no one else, especially not Etharos, the new apprentice. He is a sneaky weasel and I don't trust him."

"I will give it only to her." Andor slid the letter into his pocket, where it now rested against Rose's drawing. "Is this all?"

"Yes, you may go now if you wish to. I will send a message with Nebula to inform you about our next meeting. You are lucky to have such a swift and smart bird." Serande smiled as Andor rose from his seat.

"She never stops reminding me about it," he said, bowing his head to both Serande and Lessindra as he turned to leave.

"Thank you for having brought me the book," Serande called after him, "you may not realise its importance now, but you will see for yourself very soon."

"Don't thank me, thank Rose," he said. Andor did not wait for an answer. He picked up his bow and quiver and was gone.

Hovering somewhere between elation and despair Andor was still trying to grasp the magnitude of what he had set in motion. His future seemed more unsure than ever. There was only one thing that was certain. Nothing would ever be the same after today.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows on the pathway that took him south towards the summer glade, when a sudden draught of air made him realise that he wasn't alone anymore.

"Have you been following me?" he said without looking up where he suspected Nebula would be soaring above him.

"I was wondering when you would be back," she croaked, gliding along silently. "You have been away all day."

"I had business to attend to." If she was evading his question, he would't give in to her pestering either.

"More secret stuff?" she said, diving low and perching on his shoulder. Andor could have sworn that she was digging her talons in a little deeper than necessary. "Yes, more secret stuff," he said, ignoring the sharp sting in his shoulder. "I can't tell you and you don't want to know, so be a good bird and fly off."

"So that's how it's going to be now? You are keeping a hidden agenda from me?"

"No." Andor stopped in his tracks and let out a sigh. "It's just that things have not been going as planned and I'm not really sure of anything anymore."

Nebula clicked her beak, her soft feathers tickling Andor's ear. "There is one thing I can tell you for sure. I have been observing that tournament of yours and that ray of light distracting the children was no mere chance."

"What do you mean?"

"I overheard Gilren promising a small boy a big bag of salted hazelnuts if he would climb on the oak to create a diversion. I even saw him slipping him a small mirror. That boy was on the tree quicker than a squirrel." Nebula tilted her head sideways. "You know how it ended. The rest is history."

"You are a prolific spy." Andor graced Nebula with a small smile. "Thank you for telling me. I was suspecting something like that." He absentmindedly ruffled her feathers. "I wonder when Gilren will ever come up with something a little more creative."

"Let's hope he doesn't," she said, affectionately nibbling his finger and then she propelled herself up into the air and was gone.

The summer glade came into sight and although Andor was looking forward to sharing a quiet evening with his friends, something in his gut told him, that it wouldn't be quiet at all. He knew his friends. They wouldn't quit until they had at least wrested some information from him, and if he was honest with himself, he was tired of keeping them by the sidelines. Whatever was going to happen, would affect them too and for all he knew, their lives might be in danger already. So he thought it best that they at least should be prepared. He owed them that much.

However, when he saw the look on their faces, he wished for a moment that he had kept his mouth shut.

"You did what?" Elia stared at Andor as if he had grown a third eye. Bergil's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and Caladon swallowed audibly.

"You heard me. I'm not repeating it again." Andor's fingers danced atop the plate laden with deliciously cooked pheasant. "And I'm rather hungry. We can talk later."

"No, I'm rather tired of hearing you say later. You still haven't told me about yesterday and now you are coming up with this insane story of undoing the sacrifice!" Elia shook her head incredulously. "Do you even know what you are asking?"

"I know very well what I'm doing," Andor said, picking up a drumstick and licking the grease off his finger, "and you sound like Lessindra and my mother combined when you talk like that."

Caladon snorted and when Elia shot him a haughty glare he quickly shifted his attention to the crackling fire before him.

"But Elia has a point," he muttered under his breath. "This is nothing short of madness! What has gotten into you?"

Bergil nodded in agreement, stirring the fire with his stick until the flames flared up high. "Since when are you so touchy when it comes to humans?" His brown eyes focussed on Andor in a way that made him shift uncomfortably. "This girl has really gotten under your skin, hasn't she?"

"Her name is Rose," he said, "and she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Bergil shook his head. "I don't understand. Why are you putting yourself out there for someone you barely know? She isn't even one of us. You owe her nothing."

"It's a choice I made. Don't ask me to explain it."

He took a hearty bite of pheasant and they all ate quietly for a while, each lost in their thoughts, the crackling of the logs and the hissing of the dragonfrogs the only sounds. But the wine flowed freely and Elia was the first to break the silence.

"So, this girl Rose had a book, you say?" Elia tapped her index finger lightly against her lips. "I wonder if it is this mysterious book of spells that has gone missing ages ago."

"I thought that was just something made up to entertain us with stories about an ancient tome written at the dawn of time." Bergil frowned.

"It didn't look made up to me," Andor said, glad that the conversation had shifted from Rose to the book. "I held it in my hands and Serande was extremely pleased to have it in her possession. So whatever it contains, it must be essential for what she wants to do."

"I can't believe Serande agreed so readily to your demand," Bergil said, taking a piece of bread Elia offered him. "She must have another agenda of her own. The question is what does she want?" Bergil reached for another bottle of wine and uncorked it.

"I don't know." Andor shrugged. "She was being deliberately vague, but for all I know she might indeed have the wellbeing of Elysse on her mind. No matter what, if she wants something from me, then I'd rather be a player than a pawn in her game."

"So are you saying that Serande might want all the power for herself?" Elia ripped off a piece of bread crust and popped it in her mouth. "That's a dangerous game to play."

"She thinks that the king is planning something," Andor said, wishing he had more pieces to complete this puzzle.

"Of course he is. Xanthos is always planning something. I don't see how that could be any different from the past." Bergil served himself a generous amount of wine, passing the bottle to Caladon.

"Maybe she wants to get rid of him?" Caladon suggested. "I wouldn't be surprised if she did. Let's be honest, a new face on the throne wouldn't be a bad idea. I can think of at least three council members who would be better choices." He tipped a hefty portion of wine into Elia's cup.

"Rakhis definitely would make for a dashing king," Elia said with a cheeky grin.

"What is it with you ladies and Rakhis?" Caladon rolled his eyes. "Is it the webbed hands or his insufferable swagger? Don't tell me," he said, raising his hand when Elia opened her mouth to say something. "I will admit, he's easy on the eye and a definite improvement compared to Xanthos, but just think about it in a logical way. I don't think Rakhis is willing to leave behind his lands by the Emerald Sea."

"Of course not, why would he? I wouldn't if I were him. The warm winds and fertile earth make it a rather welcoming place." Bergil took a long swig from his cup of wine. "Besides, their wine from the vineyards of Trevalis is the best in all Elysse."

"And definitely the most potent one," Caladon said. He picked up his own cup and raised it towards Elia. "Mysterious like a summer night and sweet like the ripest berry. I drink to thee my beautiful lady."

"You're drunk, Caladon," Elia said, but the blush that crept to her cheeks was visible even in the dark.

"So are you." Caladon raised a suggestive eyebrow and fell to his knees in front of her. He placed a hand on his heart in a dramatic gesture. "Oh, but will you not be my queen of the night and give me your hand in dance and merriment?"

"Such a charmer," she said, but then Caladon suddenly jumped to his feet and pulled her up with him.

"We need music, Bergil. If things are indeed going downhill, we might as well go down singing." He spun Elia around until she giggled. "I know you brought your flute, Bergil."

Bergil downed the rest of his cup and raised a finger, "But only if Andor sings."

"No, no, I won't." Andor shook his head resolutely. "You know I can't sing."

"It doesn't matter. We've all had too much wine, so no one will notice if you're out of tune." Elia threw her arms in the air, her whole body swaying to an imaginary beat.

Caladon burst into a fit of laughter. "She's right, you know. It's only us and the dragonfrogs." He lowered his voice to a slurred whisper. "And I'm not even sure they can hear us. I've always wondered if they even have ears. Do you think they have ears?"

"I'd rather not take the risk and traumatise the poor dragonfrogs," Andor said grinning. "But you are more than welcome to sing and dance as much as you want. Don't mind me. I'll be just sitting here, enjoying myself."

"Why would dragonfrogs not have ears?" Bergil muttered, fumbling with his pocket to pull out his flute. "That makes no sense."

"Would you all stop talking about dragonfrogs?" Elia said rather tipsily. She wrapped her arms around Caladon's neck, urging him to move with her. "Dance with me and Bergil, you play for us!"

Bergil finally rose to his feet and began playing a lively tune, his feet tapping to the rhythm of the beat. Caladon whirled Elia around and soon their laughter and singing rose into the night air.

Andor leaned back against the boulder behind him, his hand sliding into the pocket to wrap his fingers around Rose's crumpled drawing. He looked up into the inky sky, the fireflies bobbing around him like tiny stars, filling the glade with their golden light. The flow of the music washed over him like the tide and he only hoped that his wish had not been an utterly selfish one.