The characters and locations do not belong to me but to the genious Mr. Sapkowski, I only use them for my own pleasure without any other objective.
"No, Barbanas-Basil, I cannot accept that." Yennefer said pushing the parchments away from her. "We are not going to sell our wine for this price. It is unacceptable."
"Pardon me, my lady," the man bowed politely and continued, "with all due respect, our cellar is full and our chest is almost empty…"
"I'm aware of that, Barnabas-Basil." Snapped the sorceress a little bit ruder than she intended to. "I'm just watching over our vineyard's reputation, you know better than I do that it is almost as important as the taste of the wine. Without its reputation, Est-Est would not be much more than fermented grape juice."
The man nodded quietly so Yennefer continued, rubbing the bridge of her nose with the tip of her fingers. "For now we will let our wine age. I assure you I have a plan. Now, if you could please talk to Marlene and ask her to prepare a meal for Ciri. Something with meat and vegetables, who knows what she has been eating lately."
"Yes of course, lady Yennefer." The majordomo bowed his head and exited the house.
The enchantress picked up the parchments and walked to the master bedroom with the intention to put them on the magically sealed drawer only she could access, and to check up Ciri, for it was long past noon and the young woman was still in bed.
"Wake up, my ugly one" Yennefer whispered when she entered the room. "What are you going to do at night if you sleep the whole day?"
From under the blanket, only a moan answered.
"Ciri, come on." The sorceress sat on the bed next to her and pulled the blankets. "Gods, you are burning."
"I'm so thirsty" Ciri whimpered with a sleepy voice. Yennefer immediately reached for the jug in the nightstand and served her some water. Ciri sat up with effort and gulped the water eagerly.
"You are indeed burning with fever," Yennefer repeated touching the witcheress' forehead delicately. "Let me see your arm."
Ciri weakly rolled up her sleeve revealing the bandage around her forearm. Yennefer delicately removed the curative and examined the wound carefully.
"It is not possible," the sorceress cursed under her breath. "What did this, Ciri?"
"I already told you, it was a nekker" the ashen blonde woman answered frowning. Yennefer observed intrigued the ugly, infected gash on her daughter's arm. For many times she had aided Geralt with wounds provoked by all sorts of monsters, the result after her treatment was never something like that. She was aware that Ciri was not a witcheress by strict definition, as her organism had not been modified with the mutagenics witchers were submitted to when they went through the trials, so her body ought to react differently to the monster's toxins. However, it should not have responded so differently.
"I'm still thirsty," Ciri complained, trying to reach the jug of water but the sorceress stopped her and served her. The enchantress held Ciri's arm, looking for something she had missed, without any success. The day before the wound had looked like a regular scratch, how it had worsened so fast?
Yennefer murmured a soothing spell, moving her fingers carefully over the wound.
"An ointment will do it," the sorceress said more to herself than to the her daughter. Before leaving the room she added "I'll have Barnabas-Basil to prepare you an herbal tea to help you with the fever. Please stay in bed, darling."
However, nor the ointment or the tea helped. In fact, nothing that Yennefer did improved Ciri's condition, quite the opposite.
Yennefer lifted her head quickly when she heard horse' s hooves audibly advancing across the yard. The witcher dismounted the mare graciously and gave the reins to the man who took care of the stable, and had run to met him. The sorceress did not move from her perched position in railing that contoured the front of the house. When Geralt saw her, he immediately displayed his most handsome smirk, however his expression quickly changed as he examined her closer.
"Yen, what is wrong?"
"Geralt…" Yennefer bited her lower lip to keep it from trembling. "Ciri is here. She was fine when she arrived, it was only a scratch on her arm… but it worsened even with my treatment… I… I don't understand."
"Where is she?"
"In the guestroom. She is asleep, come"
"Ciri," he said with his hoarse voice adopting the softest tone he could mustered. He kneeled by the side of the bed to look at her closer.
"Ge-Geralt?" Her eyes opened lazily and she smiled weakly when she saw the witcher. "I've been dreaming about you." Still with a smile on her face, the young woman closed her eyes once more and sighed softly, falling back asleep.
"What is happening to her?" Geralt asked, almost sounding angry.
"I gave her an herbal brew to help her sleep" The sorceress carefully lifted the blanket revealing the Ciri's wounded arm.
"What did this?" the witcher asked, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly.
"She said it was a nekker," Geralt looked at her rising one eyebrow and she guessed his thoughts. "I know, I do not understand either."
"We have to neutralize the toxins that are acting in her body. I can smell them in her."
Yennefer stared at him biting her lip. "I've tried everything… everything that did not put her life in risk. I thought… but I could not, is too risky"
"What is it, Yen?"
"The third exsufflation of Deldhimben," the sorceress said rubbing her forehead and offered more explanation to the puzzled witcher. "It is a complicated ancient spell. Originally had other usages, but I think it could stop the effects of what is harming Ciri."
"But it could also hurt her even more? Or bounce back to you?" The sorceress nodded.
"I fear something magical is interfering, acting together with the poison. It can only be that, because it is reacting badly to everything I do. Nekkers are not that poisonous, are they, witcher?"
"Definitely not," Geralt sighed observing the sleeping witcheress. "Do you feel a magical aura or a trace of a spell?"
"I feel only a faint vestige, but it could be mine." The sorceress shook her head angry at herself. She had never felt so powerless. "And you? Do you feel something different?"
"I feel nothing. My medallion is not reacting to it. Whatever it is, couldn't it be something else?"
She glimpsed his thoughts and found that Geralt had the same dreadful suspicions than her.
"Something from another world?" Yennefer reached the basin in the nightstand and changed the cloth in Ciri's forehead for a fresher one.
If that is the case, then there is not much we can do. Yennefer banished the thought as quickly as it crossed her mind.
The witcher stared at her quietly, with a worried expression shadowing his face.
"We could… as a last resource" the sorceress cleared her throat delicately. "We could try the third exsufflation of Deldhimben to halt whatever is acting against the magic, combined with a watered down witcher concoction to neutralize the toxins."
"Last resource? Why, do you have any other idea, Yen?"
Yennefer sighed and crossed her arms over her chest to hide her trembling hands. "No, but I do not like this one at all," she confessed.
"Then we have to think of something soon" Geralt said quietly, pushing gently a strand of ashen grey hair away from Ciri's cheek. "She is strong, but I'm afraid that if we wait longer, we might witness the limit of her strength."