‘Let us then withdraw our commandos from Temeria, Redania and Kaedwen,’ suggested the white-haired elf. ‘Let us withdraw all Scoia’tael forces who are fighting the humans. You are now queen, Enid, and they will obey your orders. Now that we have our own small scrap of land, there is no sense in their continuing to fight. Their duty is to return and defend the Valley of the Flowers. Let them fight as a free people in defence of their own borders. Right now they are falling like bandits in the forests!’

The elf bowed her head.

‘Emhyr has not permitted that,’ she whispered. ‘The commandos are to fight on.’

‘Why? To what end?’ said Filavandrel aep Fidhail, sitting up abruptly.

‘I will say more. We are not to support nor to help the Scoia’tael. This was the condition set by Foltest and Henselt. Temeria and Kaedwen will respect our rule in Dol Blathanna, but only if we officially condemn the Squirrels’ aggression and distance ourselves from them.’

‘Those children are dying, Daisy. They are dying every day, perishing in an unequal contest. As a direct result of these secret pacts with Emhyr, humans will attack the commandos and crush them. They are our children, our future! Our blood! And you tell me we should dissociate ourselves from them? Que’ss aen me dicette, Enid? Vorsaeke’llan? Aen vaine?’

The butterfly took flight, flapping its wings, and flew towards the window, then spun around, caught by currents of hot summer air. Francesca Findabair, known as Enid an Gleanna, once a sorceress and presently the Queen of Aen Seidhe, the Free Elves, raised her head. Tears glistened in her beautiful blue eyes.

‘The commandos,’ she repeated softly, ‘must continue to fight. They must disrupt the human kingdoms and hinder their preparations for war. That is the order of Emhyr and I may not oppose Emhyr. Forgive me, Filavandrel.’

Filavandrel aep Fidhail looked at her and bowed low.

‘I forgive you, Enid. But I do not know if they will.’

‘Did not one sorcerer think the matter over a second time? Even when Nilfgaard was slaughtering and burning in Aedirn, did none of them abandon Vilgefortz or join Philippa?’

‘Not one.’

Geralt was silent for a long time.

‘I can’t believe,’ he said finally, very softly, ‘I can’t believe none of them left Vilgefortz when the real causes and effects of his treachery came to light. I am – as is generally known – a naive, stupid and anachronistic witcher. But I still cannot believe that the conscience of not one sorcerer was pricked.’

Tissaia de Vries penned her practised, decorative signature beneath the final sentence of the letter. After lengthy reflection, she also added an ideogram signifying her true name alongside. A name no one knew. A name she had not used for a very long time. Not since she became an enchantress.

Skylark.