The gentle rays of the afternoon sun played an ever changing mosaic of light and shadow on his bare skin as they pierced through the branches and the slightly trembling leaves above him. Heady aromas of ripe fruit filled the air. He delighted in the pleasing touch with complete peace of mind. Two small bare feet came into view just within arm's reach, stepping away through the thick green grass. He let his eyes lazily follow up the contours of her delicate ankles and calves, and the back of her knees, and up her slender thighs, lingering a good deal on the two full moons of her posterior before moving on to her curvy hips swaying mesmerizing him with every step she took, and her long raven-black hair brushing against her tiny waist. She reached up for a big red apple hanging on a lower branch, offering him the splendid view of her naked sex in the process. The tantalizing sight made his hardened length twitch and he jumped up and strode towards her, catching her in his arms just as she turned. A pair of striking violet eyes met his while she brought the apple to her lips and took a bite with a splashy sound. Juice trickled down her chin as she grinned at him. He pushed her hand away and devoured her lips hungrily with his own, and plunged his tongue between them, tasting the apple in her mouth mingled with her sweetness. When she pressed her smooth body against him with a moan, his world shrank to one single concern: the throbbing, aching need for her. He raised her thigh around his waist holding it firmly in place with his arm, and pushed the tip of his length against her entrance.

His vision went blank for a moment before his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room. He rolled over on his back dragging along the crumpled sheets around his waist. The throbbing in his groin was very much real and it was filling his awareness more and more, while he felt the memory of his dream fading away like sand slipping through his fingers. Was it a dream or a memory? He had the nagging sensation that he was missing something important, but he couldn't recollect what it was. He threw the covers aside and got up, went straight for the little basin and splashed his face with cold water, chasing away the last shadow of the dream.

He got dressed and went out. The inn was quiet. The elderly innkeeper was sleeping on a cot behind the counter and didn't awake when he passed by and went outside. The air was refreshingly cool, and filled with the melodious song of a nightingale. The moon was still visible, but the stars were starting to fade away in the grey light of the morning. He walked around the building to the stables and checked on the horses. They had been well attended to, so he just threw them one more hand of hay. With nothing else to do before everybody else got up, Geralt turned to go back inside, but when he came out front he changed his mind and chose to scout the area while the streets were still devoid of people.

The main street ran through the city in an almost straight line from the southern to the northern gate. The merchant quarters were situated towards the northern gate beyond which the road led to Vizima. The houses got more opulent the closer he got to the market square which was deserted at the moment. Some of the buildings looked more familiar to him than others. As was the case with many places, the sanctuary of prayer stood tallest, and was the best cared for building. Smaller and more modest houses bordered the narrow dusty streets beyond the temple, their size decreasing the closer he got to the city walls. He discovered another tavern hidden on a back-side street that also functioned as a house of ill repute and was open for business despite the early hour - not something that interested him beyond the matter of fact level. He didn't have anything against the trade per se, but he didn't need to seek out this kind of services. Ever since he awoke at Kaer Morhen in the close care of the sorceress Triss Merigold, who didn't spare any method to make sure he was in fit form, he had opportunities to get laid. Maybe not as often as he would've liked, but he still would not resort to paying for it.

The sun was rising on a perfectly clear sky and the city was starting to came to life. The first to greet the day were children running out of the shabby houses of a poor neighborhood where Geralt found himself at the moment wandering the streets.

When he returned to the inn, morning business was in full swing. Some guests were getting ready to leave, others were coming down the stairs or were being served breakfast, and the innkeepers were bustling around to accommodate them. A young woman carrying a laundry basket came to him and asked how she could help. He asked for some food and found a table towards the back of the dining room that gave him a good view of both the interior and out the window.

He was nearly finished with his meal when Ain found him. She hadn't noticed him at first, and he observed her from his seat. She inquired of the innkeeper about him as the first thing. She turned and searched the room with her eyes, and when she met his, visible joy spread across her face. She exchanged a few more words with the innkeeper before she came up to him.

"This place gets very noisy in the morning," she stated in a lively tone, taking a seat at the opposite side of the table. "I can't wait to get out and see the city. What do you plan to do today?"

There were a couple of things he needed to take care of, but he felt torn about leaving her to fare on her own. He'd only just met her, and barely knew her, and he couldn't understand the reason why he was so taken with her, and worried about her safety. Somehow she was becoming his concern.

"You'll see. You're coming with me," he told her, and watched her pleasantly surprised look.

Her exuberance was contagious. They chatted back and forth about trivialities, she in a light and bubbly manner and he enjoying silently her good spirits while she hurried to eat.

o0o

The towns folk and peasants from the nearby villages bringing their wares to the market in small wagons were bustling on the main street in the sunny morning. They walked with the flow towards the market.

A dreadful looking old woman sitting on the side of the road called up at them. "Help an old woman, merciful masters."

He felt Ain's brief light touch on his forearm and he halted and looked at her. Understanding her intention, he grabbed her wrist and stopped her in her tracks as she was reaching for the small drawstring bag wrapped around her wrist.

"Unless you have an endless supply of those, you need to learn the value of money." He reached for his pouch and placed a few orens in her palm. "Here, give her these."

Ain looked at him with comprehension, then turned and bowed to place the coins in the woman's wizened hand. The woman seized her hand and pulled her closer down, telling her in a sinister tone. "Good girl, you must leave this evil place. It is cursed."

"What? Why do you say that?" Ain asked startled.

"I've seen things," the woman snapped at her. "My poor son, he's bewitched. All he does now is the biding of an evil sorceress. And she doesn't suffer young girls," the woman voiced warningly.

"That's enough old woman." Geralt intervened, trying to free Ain's hand.

"Leave me be," the woman cried and pulled her hand away. "You have the evil eye. Begone."

Ain looked resentful at the old woman, then turned and told him, distressed, "Poor woman. This is terrible."

"Let's go," he grabbed her hand and pulled her along, before she got any other ideas.

The market square was full of people moving back and forth between stalls at a slow pace. Some merchants had even placed their products on rugs laid on the ground. Geralt made his way through the crowd, looking often behind him to make sure Ain was keeping up. He wished now he hadn't let her hand go. When they reached in front of the shop he was heading for, he pulled her to the side and placed himself close in front of her, shielding them as much as possible from prying eyes. He asked her to show him what she had in her small drawstring bag. He picked two big diamonds and sapphires from her hand, and asked her to put the rest in the bag again. He held the door to the shop open for her to enter, and he followed her closely behind.

The fat, overdressed merchant inside took a close look at the gems through his magnifying glass, turning them over to view every side, while Ain was looking curiously at the display windows filled with jewelry and all kinds of engraved objects made of precious metals. Even after Geralt bargained with the merchant for a better price which he reluctantly paid, the merchant still looked satisfied with the purchase. Geralt handed Ain the pouch filled with orens that he obtained for the stones, which she thanked him for, but looked at him as if she didn't quite understand the meaning of it.

"Come, I'll show you how to use them," he told her at the silent question in her eyes, and pushed her gently towards the exit.

They walked out in the bright sunlight and the noise of the busy market. Geralt led them past the stands displaying pottery and tools, and colorful carpets and rugs, but when they came by the first stand of clothing, Ain stopped and asked him to wait. The middle-aged saleswoman hurried to praise her merchandise, and Ain got quite overwhelmed by the the quick flashing of dresses in front of her and the woman's aggressive attempt to persuade her to buy. She tried to get away by taking a couple of steps back, and told the woman that they were all beautiful dresses, but not what she was looking for. She then turned around and hurried to walk away. Slightly amused by the flustered look on her face, Geralt followed after her but not very long. Ain had stopped again only two stands away and picked up a long light cambric blouse with colorful embroidery. The merchant told her it was handmade by his wife, and Ain asked how much he was asking for it.

The man answered 200 orens.

"That's pretty expensive for a blouse," Geralt stated out loud, and Ain turned to look at him with an unspoken question in her eyes. "100 orens and we'll take it," he told the merchant.

The man agreed and hurried to pack the blouse and wrap it. When the transaction was done, Ain took the small parcel and smiled happily at him. "Thanks."

"You have to learn to bargain over the price," he told her. "Don't pay what they're asking right away."

"Well...I'll try," she said, distracted by the surroundings, then told him "Look, books!" and hurried up ahead, sneaking skillfully through the crowd. By the time he reached her again she had already picked up two books, and was avidly searching through the stacks.

"Look, Geralt," she said, pushing the books against his chest, gesturing him to take them, while devoting her attention to the books on the stand.

He took the books and looked at their covers. "Lara's gift" and "Foreign Lands".

"I think I'll have this one as well." She handed him another book. "And this one."

"You don't have to buy them all at once, you know."

"But they might get sold out," she said looking at him. "Fine, just one more."

She picked up a battered book with leather covers and uneven yellow pages, which seemed to be the only one of its kind between the rest, and she opened it carefully. "How much for these books?" she asked the salesman without raising her eyes from the book.

"That one is 500 orens," the man answered pointing at the book she was holding. "The rest you can get for 20 orens apiece."

"500 orens? What book is that?" Geralt asked in amazement coming closer.

"It's called Physiologus." Ain answered, and hold the book for him to see it.

"Aye, the man said, very old book. You'll find none like it."

"Where did you get it from?" Geralt asked him, examining the book.

"I bought it during my travels." the man answered evasively. Geralt looked him intently in the eyes and with a quick, discrete movement of his wrist and fingers by his side, he pushed his will like an invisible wave on the man's mind.

Unaware of the hex, but under Geralt's tight mental grip, the man spilled out. "A peasant sold it to me. He said his grandma had died, and he was selling her belongings to get money for the funeral, but I think he was lying."

Still absorbed by the book in her hands, Ain remained oblivious to what had just occurred. "How about I pay you 500 orens for all these books?" she asked the merchant.

Geralt freed the man's mind, and he blinked confused once before he turned his gaze to her. "No can do!" he said.

"Really?" she wondered more than questioned. "Well, then how about 540?"

"580 for all 5 books."

Ain gave Geralt a quick glance, but he didn't intervene. "Fine," she said. "Here's the money." She turned again and looked at him disconcerted. "I hate bargaining."

"You are amazingly bad at it," he grinned.

"Well, you didn't teach me how to do it," she argued vehemently.

"I didn't think it was necessary," he answered calmly. "It's not science, and you were otherwise able to easily convince the guard to let us into the city the other day."

"But that was different."

"How so?"

"I don't know how to explain... It just felt right. I didn't have to think about it, it just ...came to me. Bargaining to pay less felt wrong. I couldn't do it heartily."

"It didn't feel right to pay less?" he grinned in disbelief. "You should know they always ask as much as possible, but in the end will sell for the price people are willing to pay. Remember that."

"I see. It must be hard to have to make a living like that. It is not something I'd like doing. Maybe it made him happy that he made a good sale today. Then it wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Except it happened at your expense."

"Fine," she scowled. "I see your point. But I still don't like it. Mmm, what's that smell?" she asked, her mood changing in a flash to her joyous self again.

Freshly baked bread and pretzels were being sold from a stand nearby.

"We must try this," Ain turned to tell him, then hurried ahead and asked for two pretzels. They were almost too hot to hold so she turned to give him one with a sense of urgency, then blew air on her fingers. He moved the books under his arm and took the pretzel with the other, their fingers brushing lightly. Ain held her small parcel under her arm, and the pretzel in her hand, and she paid with her free hand. "I like it," she told him, chewing her first bite.

As they walked and ate, they reached the blacksmith stand at the end of the row. It was now Geralt's turn to stop and examine the articles on display. Ain stood next to him, their arms almost touching, distracting him by her nearness. She picked up a knife, holding it between her fingertips, as if she was afraid to touch it. Geralt asked to see it, and she handed it to him. When their hands touched again, her hand lingered. She looked up at him, and when she met his gaze she drew back her hand and quickly looked away.

He weighed the knife in his hand. It was solid, but not too heavy, and the blade was sharp.

"You should buy it," he told her, and handed it back.

"Really? What am I to do with it?"

"You never know when it'll come in handy. Best to be prepared."

"If you say so," she agreed simply, and he wondered just how much she trusted him. "Will you...?" she gestured discreetly towards the merchant.

He grinned, shaking his head. "You'll never learn if I do it for you."

"Please?" she smiled disarmingly.

"No-huh."

"You are a harsh teacher."

"It's for your own good."

"I really can't see it," she argued childishly.

"You will some day," he answered, amused.

She scowled at him, then turned towards the merchant who was busying himself with sharpening a blade, and she asked for the price while he oversaw the transaction.

When they walked past the stands where farmers sold fruits and vegetables they stopped and picked different fruits, placing them into a small bag made of fishing net that Geralt had purchased for her. He watched her pick a few apples and place them in her bag. She took one apple out again after paying, and bit hungrily into it. His mouth watered at her simple gesture which he found strangely arousing, and he felt a jolt shooting straight to his groin.

"Let's go. We've spent enough time here." he told her harshly, not fully comprehending his reaction.

"Where are we going?" she hurried behind him.

"To take care of what you asked me last night," he answered without looking back.

"Really?" she asked pleasantly surprised. "How?"

"Have you noticed how you keep asking me questions all the time?" he told her, still feeling vexed for reasons he couldn't put his finger on.

"How can I not? You never volunteer any information!"

"Because I'm not used to having to explain myself." He slowed his pace allowing her to catch up with him.

"I understand. But then I have to ask. How else am I supposed to know what I'm about to step into?"

"Look," he gestured towards a wooden board nailed by the door of an austere building.

"Hugh Caverach. Investigator and lawyer," she read out loud, then looked at him and smiled.

He held the door open for her and they stepped inside a dark and chilly office smelling of ink, parchment, and tobacco. A man behind a desk raised his head from his papers.

"Welcome friends," he said, measuring them discreetly, his eyes lingering on Ain. "What can I do for you?"

"Are you Hugh Caverach?" Geralt asked approaching.

"In person," the man answered ostentatiously. "The most famous detective and lawyer in the city," he added, raising himself from his seat. "Please, take a seat." He gestured towards the two chairs in front of his huge desk.

"What happened to?" asked Geralt, ignoring the chairs. Ain remained standing beside him as well.

"You knew them?" the detective asked, in an excessively friendly tone.

"I had dealings with them in the past." He saw Ain shoot him a glance from the corner of his eye.

"Ah, well, my friend, it grieves me to tell you that they are no longer among us. Such a loss. But don't you worry, you can safely address yourself to me. I'm their proud successor, and I swore to carry on their legacy."

A skeptical "Uh-huh" was Geralt's initial answer. "Do you know Dogan the vendor?" he continued.

"Yes. The man's a mean gambler and womanizer with fondness for the bottle. Why? Does he owe you money?"

"No," Geralt answered simply. "His mother lives in a small village barely two days' ride towards Maribor. I killed a fleder in her basement. The creature had been fed for quite a while with human livestock. I want you to find out who those poor bastards were. Dogan should be able to help you if rightly persuaded."

"Interesting. Clever way to get rid of problems. Definitely an intriguing job. There is only the question of my payment."

"How much?"

"500 orens."

Ain handed him her pouch of money, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the detective's hawk-eyed gaze.

"This investigation is expensive. I'll pay you half. Show me some results, and you'll get the rest. You'll find Dogan in the dungeon. Go make sure he doesn't go anywhere any time soon."

"Where will I find you?"

"At the inn."

o0o

"We have to tell Ileana." Ain told him as soon as they stepped out, looking at him through narrowed eyes and shading her eyes with her hand. Geralt got temporarily blinded by the bright sunlight as well, but his eyes adjusted rapidly.

"Later. There's something else I need to do now," he answered, and handed her a piece of parchment just as she was about to open her mouth. She smiled understandingly, and read the paper while he led them back on the main street and towards the church. In the back of the yard of the church they found a man hammering at some wooden boards that were clearly assembled in the form of a coffin.

"What do you need?" he asked without stopping or looking up.

"I'm a witcher. I'm here for the contract."

"Ah," the man said turning towards them, and looking curious, especially at Ain. "Master witcher, thank the gods you're here. We've trouble up to our ears. The cemetery has become a dangerous place. I can't work anymore. What I bury in the day gets dug out at night, and the Reverend keeps pestering me. But what can I do, huh? Does he think putting a dead body to rest is easy?"

Geralt was accosted by the smell of alcohol on the man's breath while he kept ranting and venting his frustration.

"What's going on? Why is the cemetery dangerous?" Ain asked, worried.

"Because the dead refuse to rest in peace. But fear not, young lady, the dead can't get beyond the city walls."

"I'll take care of it if you pay me." Geralt cut him short.

"Of course, master witcher. Only you must get this off my back so I can work in peace again."

"It'll cost 200 orens."

"200 orens? That's a month's pay." Geralt remained impassive at his lamentation, and the man gave in quickly. "I'll get you your gold. The Reverend will dig deep in the collection box to have the mess cleaned up."

"Make sure you have my gold. I'll come back for it tomorrow. How do I get to the cemetery?"

"You go out the city through the south gate and then go right. It's about a mile to the west."

o0o

They walked away towards the street again, Geralt walking half a step behind Ain and watching her backside. She had removed her knitted long sweater as the air got warmer, and remained in a simple silky grayish-blue dress matching her eyes, that fell tantalizingly over her body. As soon as they stepped around the corner of the chruch, Ain turned brusquely to face him.

"Geralt," she called, making him stop, and he raised his eyes to meet hers. "Do you have to do this? You heard the man, it is dangerous and... frightening."

"This is what witchers do. It was you who wanted to come along for the ride, remember?"

She stepped to his side with a musing expression on her face, and they started walking again.

"I don't suppose you'll let me come with you?" she asked a moment later.

"You suppose right."

He looked at her closely and wondered about her dejected look. What had dispirited her all of a sudden? Was she worried about...him? Or was she sad that he had turned down her request to come with him to the cemetery? It had to be the latter, he thought. She said she wanted to see the world. As much as he enjoyed showing it to her so far, it was unimaginable to take her along for a job. Nothing in the world could persuade him to put her life in danger like that.

"Can we go to Ileana now?" she interrupted his train of thought.

"All right," he agreed, willing to indulge her, wishing to bring back the smile on her face. "But I need to get back soon and get ready."

"But I don't understand," she spoke again after a short while. "How can dead people... not stay dead?"

"It's most certainly some sort of necrophages."

"Necrophages?"

"I can show you when we get back. In a book," he added at her baffled look. That got her smiling again.

Ileana welcomed them gladly into her house, and apologized for having no refreshments to serve them. "Water is just fine." Ain told her, and then proceeded to account for the day's events and for the newest development concerning Dogan. Ileana kept looking gratefully at Geralt, since Ain didn't mention that it was her idea, or that she was paying for the investigation, but kept telling her we did this and we did that. She was frequently distracted from her tale by Ileana's lustful looks at him, and Geralt noticed Ain blush and look puzzled and sometimes avert her eyes at the other woman's sly gestures and comments. He was so captivated with Ain's reactions to the other woman's flirtations, that he let Ileana continue unhindered. When they took their farewell, Ileana leaned against him and pressed her breasts to his chest, telling him softly and suggestively, "You can come visit me any time, witcher." He doubted he ever would again.

o0o

The afternoon sky had gotten clouded and the city looked more gloomy in the gray light. They walked in silence back to the inn, and soon after they arrived small drops of rain started hitting the windows. He helped her carry her purchases up to her room, then left her alone and went to his room. He got the bestiary from Vesemir out his pack, and browsed the pages he had been carefully reading many times before. He looked at the carefully inscribed pages and drawings, but his thoughts flew to the older witcher. After he woke up at Kaer Morhen with no memories of who he was or how he had gotten there, the man had taken him under his wing, and in no time he felt as if he had known him forever. Which he had, he'd been told, but those memories were still lost to him.

He found his box with potions, another gift from Vesemir who worked his hardest to prepare him for this journey. The older witcher reluctantly agreed to let him go only because for some reason his fighting skills were intact. He couldn't remember how he learned to move the way he did when holding a sword, just as he couldn't remember how he learned how to read or to write, or to use magic. But all these skills came as naturally as breathing to him, without having to give them any conscious thought.

He heard a light knock in the door, and met Ain's hesitant look when he opened. "I had Gladis prepare supper. Do you want to come eat?" she asked him with a small uncertain smile.

He smiled mostly at the fact that she always seem to know the names of the innkeepers and address them with astounding familiarity. She treated everybody she met as equal even though the differences were obvious. Maybe that's why people took such an easy liking to her.

"I'm coming. Let me grab something first."

"Will you bring the book you promised to show me as well?" she asked from the hallway after him.

He quickly grabbed the bestiary, his weapons, and three small vials from the box with potions, then went out, handed her the book, and locked the door behind him.

The dining room downstairs was busy with guests from the inn who were being served their evening meal. One table was set ready with deep plates, a big bowl filled with steaming hot soup, and a basket of bread. Ain led them to it, moving lightly between the other tables. They attracted a great deal of attention, but she didn't seem to notice. As soon as they took their seats, she placed the book on the corner of the table and opened its cover. "The Tome of Fear and Loathing," she read in a whisper, then turned the pages one by one, immersed in the reading and paying little attention to the food. He observed her closely while he ate, and clearly saw the repulsion on her face.

"That's not the best reading material to go with a meal."

She shuddered at the image drawn on the next page, and answered looking up at him, "This is horrendous. Do these monsters really exist?"

He nodded at her then reached across and closed the book. "Eat."

They were soon brought second courses, and Ain kept gazing at the book for the entire meal, but didn't open it again. When he felt sated, he stood up, intent on leaving. The hour was not late, but it had already gotten dark outside partially because of the heavy dark clouds covering the sky and showering the city in a monotonous drizzle. "I must get going now," he told her.

"Are you sure you have to do this?" she hurried to stand and stepped in front of him blocking his way.

"Mhm."

"I wish... there was another way."

He took a step forward until only one inch separated their bodies and bowed his head to her ear.

"Why do you wish that?" he whispered.

Ain gasped and froze in place, and had a hard time giving a coherent answer.

"Because," she whispered back, then swallowed to regain her voice. "Because I don't want you to get hurt."

He wondered about her obvious affected reaction. Combined with her delightful scent and the near proximity to her, he could hardly restrain his desire to pull her closer and touch her. But this was not the place, nor the time, so he forced himself to step away. And when he did, there was not one thing on his face that could betray his thoughts. He shrugged lightly at her, and told her in a cool voice. "That risk can't be avoided." He reached up to his chest to tighten his scabbard holding his swords across his back, and walked towards the door, and she followed after him.

"Just... be careful." she told him anxious, as he was about to close the door behind him.

The cold drops of rain slapping him in the face cleared his head and chased away the slight physical arousal, but he was left with a warm, fuzzy feeling. He liked having someone who cared and waiting for him to get back.