Book 2: The Wolf Hunts

Chapter 12

Redania

"Geralt, are you sure it's safe going through the sewers?" asked Evie.

"I'm positive it's not. But it's safer than trying to enter through the gates."

The early morning mist was hovering over the canals that surrounded the free city of Novigrad. Through that fog, the witcher slowly and quietly rowed a small dinghy that he had acquired earlier. As remuneration, he had left a handful of crowns on the dilapidated dock where the small boat had been moored. He hoped that the owner – and not some random bloke – would find the payment, but, truthfully, he had more important things to concern himself with at the moment.

Several hours earlier, the group of seven – to Geralt, it seemed as if their little fellowship picked up a new member every week – had approached the outskirts of Novigrad just past midnight. While Evie and Lydial stayed hidden in the darkness, Geralt and the rest had done some reconnaissance and discovered that every main thoroughfare leading into the city was highly guarded by witch hunters, guards of the temple of the Eternal Fire, and Redanian soldiers. Getting into the city would be even more precarious and difficult than the last time he'd been there the previous summer. Outside the gates, lining the walls and the bridges, were corpses of various nonhuman species. Some were charred. Some impaled. Others hanged. High above, along the tops of the city's walls, there were dozens and dozens of heads mounted on spikes, their black, swollen tongues protruding from their mouths. Blowflies buzzed all about, and the smell of decay filled the air. Clearly, the violence towards nonhumans had intensified in the last twelve months. The witcher wondered if his various nonhuman friends – Zoltan, Dudu, Eibhear, and Vimme - had made it out of the city alive, but wonder is all that he figured he could do. He doubted that he'd actually get a chance to check on his friends' whereabouts.

Given that the city more than likely had threats on literally every street corner, then clearly stealth was of paramount importance. Thus, it was decided that the smaller the incursion group the better. Of the seven, none knew the layout of Novigrad better than the witcher, but even if that hadn't been the case, there wasn't a chance in hell that he was going to let Evie enter that den of villainy without him by her side. Therefore, it was finally determined that just the two of them would attempt to infiltrate the city's fortified perimeter. Geralt hoped that he and Evie could sneak in, get the information that they needed, and then sneak back out all within a couple of hours, but he knew that was very wishful thinking. In his experience, virtually all of his plans hit a snag somewhere along the line.

The witcher stopped rowing and put the oars inside the dinghy as the boat approached a small ledge that jutted out from the sheer face of the city wall. Evie immediately knew that they were near the sewers as the smell hit her like a punch to the nose. She did her best not to gag. She looked up and – even though it was too dark to actually see it - she could tell that they were directly below St. Gregory's Bridge, which connected the northern and southern parts of the city. Stars were visible in the sky on either side of it, but straight above her was nothing but darkness.

Geralt leapt from the dinghy onto the hard ground and then helped Evie do the same. High walls of stone and brick rose straight up and towered above them. Evie saw at once that there was no way they could enter the city by climbing those. She then looked to her right at a large, pitch-black opening covered by a metal grate. She turned and peered at Geralt, waiting for his next instructions. She saw him looking at the sewer's opening and back at her several times, but he wasn't saying or doing anything else.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" she asked.

He was quiet for several more moments before he finally spoke.

"Evie, what are we doing?"

She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean? You know what we're doing. We need to speak with Claude about the tome. I think he can help us."

Geralt shook his head. "No. I mean…why are we even bothering with this whole mess? Let's just go."

"What are you talking about? Go where?"

"Anywhere. Let's just get on a boat and sail west. As far away as possible. You and me."

"Geralt…what about the Sword?

"To hell with the Sword," he said with heat. If it was possible to both yell and whisper at the same time, the witcher had just done it. "What is your obsession with finding it anyway? I honestly don't understand. Are you trying to prove something to your father?"

Evie calmly stared into the witcher's face and slowly shook her head.

"It's not about my father. It's not even about me. It's about doing the right thing. It's about not letting it fall into Emhyr's hands."

"I say…let the son-of-a-bitch have it."

"But…we can't. He could wipe out all the northern kingdoms. Do you want him in control of the entire Continent?"

"Evie, I don't give a damn…about kingdoms or empires. I only care about you. So, let's just leave. We don't have to be involved. Let everyone on this gods-forsaken Continent kill each other for all I care. They all deserve one another."

"Geralt, you can't mean that."

"The hell I can't. There's no goodness here, Evie. There is nothing worth saving. You act as if Emhyr is the bad guy. Let me clue you in - there are no good guys. Whoever replaces him will be just as bad. The history of this Continent is nothing but a history of war and oppression. For as long as I've been alive – long before Emhyr and Radovid were even born - the races of this land have done nothing but kill each other, and it hasn't mattered which kings or which emperors sat on the thrones. Hell, you're a historian. You of all people should know that. There's never been peace…and there never will be. So, what does it matter if they wage war with some new elven weapon or they simply go about it how they've always done it? Us finding the Sword won't change a damn thing."

"So…we just do nothing? We refuse to stand up against that oppression? Run away…like cowards?" A confused expression came to her face. "This isn't like you, Geralt. You're the bravest man I've ever met. What is going on with you?"

Geralt lowered his eyes from hers and shook his head.

"Geralt?" she asked softly.

The witcher slowly raised his head again and stared into her eyes.

"I already know how this is gonna end." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"What are you talking about? How what's going to end?"

"I can't save you, Evie," he said slowly. "Just like I couldn't save Ciri. Just like I couldn't save Iorveth…or Isaac…or Vatslav or Roach. I'm doing everything that I know to do…but the ones I care about still keep dying. It's blind luck that you're still alive. So, let's just leave. I…I can't lose you, too."

The look in Geralt's eyes was making Evie's heart break. She stepped close and touched his cheek and then rested her hand on the side of his neck.

"Is this why you're having nightmares again?" she asked gently.

Since their wedding, Geralt had been free of his nightmares, but they had returned two nights ago after their time on the Nimnar River. They had not only woken Geralt from his sleep, but they'd woken her, too.

He lowered his head and gave it a slight shake. "I don't know. Probably."

Evie reached up and grasped Geralt with both hands.

"Geralt, I don't want us to die, either. I want to grow old and gray with you. But I feel like – no, I know that finding this Sword is the right thing to do. And this isn't simply the stubborn historian in me saying that. This Sword – or rod or whatever it is - isn't just some ordinary artifact to be put in a museum. It's something…other-worldly. I'm almost positive that it's tied to Apophis, which means it could even be connected to the Conjunction of the Spheres. Who knows? It may have even played some role in bringing magic into this world. Finding the Sword is greater than just the two of us. To be honest, I feel like this is all a part of Essea's plan…and I want to be a part of it. I want to obey him. Didn't you tell me the same thing back in the Blue Mountains? That you felt him leading you."

The witcher shook his head. "Not about this. I've just felt him telling me to be with you, to protect you. I haven't sensed one thing from him about the Sword."

"Then, do you know why he's leading you to be with me, to protect me?"

He shook his head again. "No. Why?"

She smiled. "Well, I don't know either, but I'm happy he is. I'm happy you've listened to him. So…let's both just keep trusting in his leading. Like in that conversation you had with Nain, remember? We're just too close to the painting right now. We can't see the big picture. So, we just have to keep trusting and obeying him even when we don't understand…right?"

He exhaled deeply and then nodded his head. "I'm trying, Evie. I'm trying real hard."

"I know you are, Geralt. And I love you for it."

She leaned in close and kissed her husband tenderly.

"So, Witcher, what's the next step?" she asked after breaking the kiss. "We're about to head into danger. What do we need to do to walk out safely?"

Upon hearing that question, Evie saw iron resolve come to Geralt's eyes.

"Right," he said, nodding his head. "More than likely, we'll face drowners ahead. They're not the most dangerous of creatures for a witcher, especially on land, but they could kill you quickly, particularly if you get surrounded. But I also once came across a vampire in there, and they're very dangerous – even for me. So, I think the safest plan is for me to scout ahead one tunnel at a time, remove any danger, and then come back to get you. And, we'll just repeat that process until we get to an exit. But that doesn't mean that I want you sitting back, doing nothing. Have your crossbow and a bomb at the ready. Okay?"

Evie really wanted to be right next to Geralt as he fought whatever lay ahead in the tunnels, for she cared just as much about his safety as he did for hers. But she knew that, at that moment, what he needed most was the calming knowledge that she was free from danger. Therefore, she was willing to put aside what she wanted to help her husband be the strong leader they both needed him to be.

"Okay," she said with a nod. "Whatever you need me to do."

Earlier, the witcher had coated his silver blade with necrophage oil. Now, he grabbed three vials from a pouch.

"I've warned before about touching me when I have potions coursing through me. But I need to warn you again. I'm about to take an elixir called Black Blood."

"Are you serious? You're actually going to drink something called Black Blood?"

"Yeah. And it's as bad as it sounds. It basically turns my blood into acid. It's particularly useful against necrophages and vampires. Anyway, until I tell you it's safe, don't touch me at all."

"Got it."

Evie watched as the witcher tilted his head back and downed the three potions. He inhaled sharply through clenched jaws. He seemed to stagger slightly and quickly put his left hand out against the brick wall to steady himself. He stood there silently for almost half a minute, simply breathing in and out slowly and deeply. Eventually, he looked at Evie.

"Okay. I don't want you out here by yourself. So, after I enter the sewers, step in right behind me. But, then…just stop. Don't follow me. Don't investigate anything. I'll come back for you when things are clear. And stay along the edges of the tunnel. The sludge and sewage runs down the middle. Any questions?"

Evie shook her head and then watched Geralt head through an opening in the grate and into the tunnel. She stepped in right behind him and was both immediately assaulted by the stench and swallowed up by the darkness. She lifted her hand up to cover her nose and mouth and literally couldn't see her hand in front of her face. She reached straight out in front of her, hoping to make contact with the back of the witcher, but he was already gone. She just blindly swept the empty air in front of her. As she pulled her hand back to cover her nose and mouth, she realized that she could hear noises coming from further up the tunnel. The unmistakable sounds of rodents – tiny claws scratching the brick walls and floors of the sewer as they scurried along. The squeaks emanating from their disease-infested mouths sent a shiver up her spine, and she immediately moved her hand down to her bandolier and gripped a bomb.

"Geralt!" she hissed.

There was no reply. She whispered his name again, but again, the sounds of sewage and rats running along the ground was the only answer she heard. She turned her head to look behind her. The illumination from the stars was just enough that she could make out the black water of the canal.

"What's wrong?"

His voice was suddenly two feet behind her, and she yelped and jumped back towards the sewer's exit. She hadn't heard him approach. He was like a ghost in the dark.

"Damn it, Geralt!" she gasped. "Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry. So, what is it? I heard you call my name."

"I…I just wanted to say hurry back."

He paused briefly before answering. "Okay."

She wanted to kiss and hug him one last time, but she knew she couldn't due to the potions that he'd consumed. She opened her eyes as wide as she could, hoping to catch a glimpse of her husband, but the darkness was simply too thick. She could almost sense it pressing in around her.

"Do you think it would be okay if I lit a torch?" she whispered.

But he didn't answer.

"Geralt?"

She reached out in front of her again but only felt the empty air. He was already gone.

"Damn it."

Her heart was still racing from having been startled so. She really wanted to lean her back against the wall of the tunnel. The thought of having something solid behind her so that nothing could sneak up on her was comforting. However, then she thought about what potentially slimy, disgusting sludge could be oozing down the wall and decided against it.

To distract herself from the fact that she was now alone in the darkness, Evie thought about their discussion earlier at the sewer entrance. She truly did understand Geralt's point of view. There was a large part of her that would like to simply run away, too. She didn't enjoy being in danger. Standing in this rat-infested sewer confirmed that. She'd much rather be living a peaceful life with her witcher on their vineyard in Toussaint. But she was truly convinced that Essea wanted them to find the Sword. To what end, she wasn't sure, but she could feel it down in her soul. She hadn't received any dreams or visions telling her that this was Essea's plan, but she simply believed that everything that had happened in the past several weeks was just too much of a coincidence to be anything other the divine hand of God. And she realized something else - that she had never felt more purposeful than in the last month, doing what she thought was his will.

Those last thoughts were truly strange ones, though. Having grown up hearing stories from her grandmother, she obviously knew of Essea, but the truth was that prior to meeting Geralt, she wouldn't have said that she was one of his followers or even truly believed in his existence. To her, Essea had been simply one of the many gods in the pantheon of the world's religions. No more real or meaningful to her than Melitele, the Great Sun, Freya, or any other. She had certainly always believed in a higher power, but she'd never adhered to any one single religion. In her mind, there was simply one God at the top of the 'mountain,' and all the different religions were just the various pathways to ascend to the summit. They all led to the same place. Thus, it didn't ultimately matter which religion you followed or what name you called God. As long as you simply did your best to live a good life, then you'd eventually get to the peak regardless of which side of the mountain you climbed. But, in the last four weeks, her thoughts about God had changed, and she wasn't exactly sure why. Perhaps it was due to all the discussions she'd been having with Geralt and Nain. Maybe, it was due to the extensive reading and translation of the Essean tome that she'd undertaken in the last month. Regardless, something had happened to her. Something she couldn't explain. Despite the many questions she still possessed about him and his ways, she was now simply convinced that Essea was the one, true living God. Those thoughts, she realized, were bringing her peace as she stood in the dark, and so she began to pray to Essea, that he would protect Geralt. And the longer she prayed, the more at ease she felt.

After several minutes, she was suddenly brought out of her prayer by the distant sounds of screeching coming from somewhere in darkness. She wasn't sure what was making the noise, but it was clearly not human, and the noise was too loud to be from rats. Instantly, the fear that she had previously felt flooded back in as she wondered if Geralt was safe. Despite his instructions to stay put, she started gradually taking small steps forward, towards the commotion. If he was hurt, then she had to help him.

Evie wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd last spoken to Geralt, but, to her, it felt like half an hour. But, then, less than five minutes after the terrifying, screeching noises had echoed down the tunnels, she heard her name being called from somewhere ahead of her.

"I'm coming back down," she heard Geralt whisper. And, then, suddenly, he was right in front of her.

"It's me," he said. "I tried not to scare you that time."

"Thanks," she answered in a shaky voice. "What was that noise?"

"Drowners."

"Are you injured?"

"No. Piece of cake. Come on. I'm going to turn around. Just grab one of my scabbards and follow me."

As they started to creep along in the darkened tunnel, she kept hearing the occasional loud squeal in front of Geralt. It sounded like they were coming from rats.

"What is going on?" she asked.

"Skewering any rats that I see. Wouldn't be good if they bit you."

"No…no it wouldn't. Thanks." There was a mixture of genuine appreciation and trepidation in her voice.

For several minutes, Geralt and Evie walked slowly along in the blackness. After the witcher had made numerous left and right turns, Evie was utterly lost. She realized that she'd never make it back to the sewer's entrance on her own. If anything happened to the witcher, she knew that she'd be completely helpless. Even though Geralt was right in front of her, she could feel her anxiety rising with every step, for she knew that shortly he'd be leaving her alone again.

Suddenly, Geralt whispered, "We need to stop right here."

Evie wouldn't have thought that it was possible, but the tunnels seemed even darker than before.

"I can't even see where 'here' is."

"It'll be okay. Just like the first time. I'll only be gone for a few minutes, and then I'll come back and get you when I know it's safe ahead."

Evie held on tightly to his scabbard.

"Geralt, please. I know that you want me to stay safe, but please don't leave me by myself again. I can't stand being alone down here in the dark. If we see any monsters, I promise I'll stay back…I won't get in the way, but don't leave me alone again. Please."

The witcher turned around to look at his wife. The Cat potion that he had taken earlier enhanced his already superhuman night-vision capabilities so he could clearly see the fear on her face. But even if he hadn't been able to see it, the fear in her voice was unmistakable. He hated that. Hated that she was terrified. Hated that he was putting his own wife in danger. Hated that, in that moment, he couldn't even pull her into a hug to comfort her. And, then, he could feel the anger within start to build. Anger at the situation they were in. Anger at Emhyr…at Philippa…at Radovid. Anger at himself. And anger at Essea. Whatever plan Essea had with regards to this Sword, why couldn't he just do it himself? If he was such an all-powerful God, then why did he even need any help? Why get Evie involved at all? Geralt didn't understand any of it. He may have come to the point where he believed in Essea's existence, but that was about the extent of his belief. He was having a hard time trusting that Essea was in control of this 'plan' to find the Sword. Too many people had already died on this journey for Geralt to believe that. And if Isaac and the others having to die was a part of Essea's plan, then, frankly, Geralt wanted no part of it.

"Okay. I won't leave you alone. Ever again." He saw the look of relief on her face as she exhaled deeply. "We're almost to an exit anyway. But, if we encounter anything from here on out, please stay back and let me handle it, okay? I mean, hell, you're not even wearing any armor."

"Don't worry. I don't want to get near anything down here."

The two made their way slowly through the tunnels, the witcher giving a quick flick of his blade anytime a rat crossed his path. Eventually, he stopped unexpectedly, causing Evie to bump into his back.

"Why'd you stop?" she whispered.

"Shhhh."

Like every known woman alive, being shushed rankled Evie, but given the circumstances, she decided to give her husband a pass this time.

After about five more seconds of silence, she asked, "What do you hear?"

"Nothing…and that's what worries me. It's completely silent."

Evie strained her ears. Sure enough, she couldn't pick up the faintest of sounds either. Not any rats scurrying along the tunnel floor. Not even the drip of water or sewage through any pipes. The complete silence was unnatural and unnerving.

"Ah, damn it!" the witcher exclaimed, and then Evie was startled by a Quen Sign being cast just inches in front of her.

"What! What is it?" she hissed.

"Fog…and it shouldn't be down here. Stay here. And whatever you do, stay out of the fog," he said before moving forward.

The shimmer of his Quen shield produced just enough illumination that Evie could see the tunnel ahead. She watched the witcher approach a grate that spanned the entirety of the tunnel. As he passed through the open door of the grate, he grabbed it with his left hand and slammed it shut behind him - the loud, metallic clank reverberating down the stone walls of the tunnel. On the other side of the grate, she could no longer see the tunnel's walls. She assumed that he'd walked into some kind of open area, but she had no way of knowing how big it was. Then, suddenly, she could detect just the dimmest of white light through the fog, like a beacon on a gloomy night.

As Geralt approached the fog, he pulled a Moon Dust bomb from his belt, and suddenly, to Evie's eyes, it looked as if the fog started to swirl in front of the witcher. Immediately, he tossed the bomb into the fog, and when it exploded against the stone floor near his feet, a hideous monster instantaneously appeared right in front of him. The tall, skeletal-like creature slashed its claws at the monster-slayer, shattering his Quen shield and causing the tunnel to be swallowed by the darkness again. Evie had only glimpsed the beast momentarily, but, to her, it looked like a much bigger and much more dangerous nekker with particularly long claws and an enormous head.

While Evie couldn't see anything in the blackness, she could clearly hear the monster hissing and screeching. It took a moment, but then she realized that she was hearing multiple monsters, not just one. Suddenly, the room ahead glowed dimly in orange light as Geralt cast another Quen Sign. She heard more monstrous howls and saw a flash of light as the witcher signed a flaming Igni, and then she saw him skip backwards across her line of sight to the other side of the room. Almost immediately, she noticed the thick, swirling fog heading in his direction.

Evie didn't know what to do. She didn't want to throw any bombs into the room for fear of injuring Geralt, and she figured that a crossbow bolt would pass directly through the mist. She began to inch her way forward towards the grate, hoping that she could get a better look at what was ahead. She wanted to help Geralt in any way that she could. Maybe when the creature showed itself next, she could fire off a bolt – if not to kill it, then to at least distract it so that Geralt could finish it off.

Geralt – standing inside a storage room with various barrels, crates, and bags full of building materials - quickly realized that he was facing not one but two foglets, magical creatures that could transform their bodies into immaterial mist to hide within fog. These monsters typically prowled in swamps and caves, locations where fog naturally arose. However, he also knew that they could magically create their own fog when needed. Like in these sewers. If their immaterial form didn't make them hard enough to kill, they also had the ability to conjure corporeal copies of themselves to aid in their attacks. Thus, in that small room, the witcher found himself battling anywhere between two to six foglets at once.

The White Wolf cast an Aard at the fog circling towards him. The telekinetic blast impacted three foglets, causing them to materialize and knocking them back several feet. The monster-slayer whirled, slicing and spinning his way through the hideous creatures. His whirl came to a stop, and he saw another ball of thick fog quickly approaching from his right. He turned and cast another Aard in its direction. The lone foglet flew backwards and slammed into the metal grate directly in front of Evie, eliciting a frightened yell from the historian. The witcher looked to his left and saw a large, storage crate next to him. He spun his body, picking up the heavy box as he did so, and as he completed the turn, he heaved it as hard as he could. The crate slammed into the foglet, knocking it, once again, back against the now-damaged metal door.

Seeing the monster pinned against the grate ten feet in front of her, Evie hopped back to give herself a bit of distance and then tossed a Dancing Star bomb in its direction. The explosive device detonated when it hit the metal, exploding in a fiery ball, and the foglet screeched in pain as its body began to burn. She immediately lifted her crossbow and fired a bolt into the monster's back, making it howl even more.

The witcher battled the other foglet in the storage room - a blur of dodges, twists, and attacks. The bomb thrown by Evie exploded behind him, distracting him for just a moment. A moment was all the creature needed. The foglet swiped downward with its left claw, again smashing the witcher's Quen shield. In the blink of the eye, before Geralt had a chance to evade, the monster attacked with its right claw, drawing blood as its hardened nails pierced Geralt's leather armor along his shoulder. The White Wolf didn't even wince, but the foglet howled as the witcher's toxic blood began to eat through the flesh of its fingers. The monster-slayer ignored the wound and swung his sword true – removing the foglet's head. He quickly cast another Quen, and immediately ran towards the foglet still pinned to the grate. Just before plunging his sword through its chest, the foglet transformed into mist, and his sword pierced nothing but air, the blade passing through an opening in the grate. Geralt jumped back, preparing himself for the next attack, but instead of moving towards the witcher, the fog drifted backward, through the grate and into the tunnel where Evie stood. As he realized what was happening, the witcher's eyes went wide.

"Evie, run!"

Geralt threw the crate aside and reached for the metal door, but when he tried to pull it open, it wouldn't budge. The impact from the foglet slamming into it had bent the grate, and now the door was jammed shut. The witcher put his foot up on the grate and pulled on the door with all his strength, letting out an agonizing shout, the veins popping from his neck. But the door stayed closed.

He lifted his eyes towards to the tunnel, and he yelled again, "Run, Evie! Run!"

Evie had her head down trying to re-cock her crossbow. When she heard Geralt yell her name, she raised her head and saw the fog slowly moving in her direction. She immediately threw the crossbow into the fog and ran down the pitch-black tunnel as fast as she could. She heard a hissing growl behind her, and when she looked back, she could just make out the silhouette of the monster, back-lit by Geralt's Quen shield. She kept running until her lungs burned and she was no longer in sight of Geralt. She paused for just a second to catch her breath and realized that she was completely enveloped by the darkness. She tried to listen closely for the monster, but her breathing was too loud. She took a gulp of air and held her breath, but she still heard nothing except her blood pounding in her ears. She reached out her hand and felt the cold brick of the tunnel. She turned and started running again, now keeping her fingertips along the wall to give her some sense of where she was in the dark.

Less than a minute later, she lost touch with the stone wall of the tunnel, but before her brain even registered that fact, her face smacked into a hard surface, and she fell back onto her rear. Pain was shooting through her forehead, and she was now seeing nothing but white flashes of light. She crawled forward and touched the wall in front of her and realized that the tunnel she'd been fleeing down had ended. Then, she heard a monstrous hissing sound echo down the tunnel towards her. She staggered to her feet and headed to the right, now with both hands out if front of her. The hissing behind her was growing louder and closer. Suddenly, she heard an explosion from somewhere deep in the sewers, but she didn't stop to contemplate it. She knew that she had to keep moving.

She had only stumbled forward about twenty feet when she ran into something that hit her right below her knees. She let out a small yelp as pain shot through her shins, and she fell forward, her palms landing on a flat, wooden surface. She frantically began running her hands over the wood. It felt like some kind of platform or scaffolding that held boxes and crates. She bent down and blindly reached under the platform. When she felt nothing but air, she quickly dropped onto her stomach and crawled forward. She had only crawled a few feet when her fingertips hit a brick wall. Obviously, the platform was only three or four feet wide. She knew her legs were still exposed so she immediately flipped onto her side and brought her knees up to her chest. She slowly lifted one hand and felt the bottom of the wooden platform just above her head. She moved her hand downward towards her feet, sensing the wood the entire time. She continued to scooch her body back against the wall as tight as she could and hoped that she was now hidden. And then she listened.

A minute passed while Evie did her best to control her breathing and strained her ears to pick up any kind of sounds, but all she could hear was sewer water dripping from somewhere nearby. And then she heard the squeak of a rat, and a moment later, she felt something crawl onto her foot. Her body involuntarily jerked, and she immediately covered her mouth with her hand, not wanting to scream. The large rodent slowly crawled up her leg, and she felt its claws digging into the fabric of her trousers. It moved its snout back and forth across her body, both sniffing and making tiny nibbling noises with its mouth. She squeezed both hands into tight fists as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. As it made its way up her torso and onto her right arm, she carefully moved her left hand towards the cat-sized rat. She could hear it breathing just inches from her ear. Quickly, she grabbed it by its fur and violently tossed it away from her. She heard it squeal when it hit the floor, and then it scurried off. She curled herself up tighter into the fetal position and hugged her knees as hard as she could as shivers ran up her spine.

As she lay on the hard, brick floor, her heart pounding in her chest, the strangest thing happened. Suddenly, verses from the Essean tome flooded into her thoughts. Words that had resonated with her when she had first read them in the original Elder Speech and, again, when she'd translated them into Common for Geralt's book less than two weeks ago. And despite her fears – or perhaps, because of them - she began to whisper Essea's promise to herself.

"Fear not, for I am with you. Be not troubled, for I am your God. I will give you strength in your weakness; I will help in your affliction; and I will hold you securely in my righteous right hand," was the verse that she began to repeat over and over in her mind.

Despite the calming influence of the prayer, there was so much adrenaline coursing through her veins and into her muscles that her body started to shake. And then she heard it. The hissing growl of the foglet. She wasn't sure, but it sounded like the monster was at the tunnel intersection where she'd slammed her face into the wall. She immediately held her breath, trying her best not to make any noise. For ten, then twenty, then thirty seconds she heard nothing. She was staring straight ahead into the darkness, but there was not even the tiniest ray of light penetrating the blackness. And then she heard the sounds of steps on the stone floor of the tunnel. Steps that were splashing through water. Steps heading in her direction.

"Please, let it go past me," she prayed in silence.

But the scuffling of footsteps stopped just in front of her hiding place. She could detect the foglet breathing deeply.

Then, her eyes widened as she realized the breathing was getting closer. It sounded like the monster was now kneeling in front of the platform. She would swear that it was just inches in front of her.

Suddenly, she heard a hiss and felt the rake of a claw across her knees. She screamed in pain and flattened her body against the back wall of the tunnel.

"Geralt! Geralt!" she screamed as she could feel the monster's claw slicing the air just inches from her. After several missed attempts, she sensed the creature pull its arm back. She couldn't see it, but she knew it was staring right at her. A menacing, slow hiss escaped its throat, and she could smell the stench of decay on its breath.

Then, the hiss was gone, and she heard noises coming from above her. The foglet smashed the barrels and crates that were on top of the platform and then began prying at the wooden boards, screeching in anger. Evie yelled in fright as the monster jammed its sharp nails into the spaces between the slats and tried to tear them apart. Evie heard the wood snapping just above her head. She reached down to her thigh and grabbed the knife from its scabbard. She held it in front of her, both hands on the hilt, not really knowing what to do next. She heard a loud cracking sound above her and then a long, slow hiss from just a foot above her head. She blindly jabbed her knife upwards and felt it sink into the monster's face. The foglet let out an angry cry, and Evie desperately shifted her body away from the opening above. The problem was that she couldn't see just where the wooden platform ended. She didn't want to shift too much and maneuver herself out from under its protection. She curled herself back into a tight ball, trembling with her back against the wall, and, in her mind, she cried out to Essea.

"Essea, please save me. Help Geralt find me," she thought to herself over and over.

oOo

The witcher let go of the metal grate and yelled in frustration. He quickly turned around and scanned the room. In one corner, next to a crate, a sledge hammer caught his eye. He ran over, grabbed it, and then returned to the metal grate. He swung the heavy tool against the door several times, but it still remained closed. In fact, he thought that the blows might have actually made things worse. His eyes quickly moved to his right, and he saw a small gap between the grate and the brick wall. An idea flashed through his mind, and he started pounding away at the brick wall in that area. With each swing of the hammer, he knocked away chunks of brick and mortar. He looked and saw that the gap was now big enough for his plan. He grabbed two Dancing Star bombs from his bandolier and placed them both securely in the gap between the grate and the wall. He moved to the other side of the room, and just after hurling his last Dancing Star at the opposite wall, he cast a Quen dome and covered his ears. The explosion shook the room, and bits of stone bounced off his shield. He ran through the smoke and looked at the result. The grate was mangled and there was a large opening in the brick wall. He squeezed through and began sprinting down the tunnel. He had to get to Evie. Despite the fact that he had trained her in the proper use of bombs, a knife, and a crossbow, she stood no chance against a foglet. As he ran, he chastised himself. He knew he should have kept her further back in the tunnels, away from danger. If anything happened to her, he'd never forgive himself.

He came to the end of the tunnel and saw that he could either go left or right. He scanned the sewer floor to his right, saw both human and foglet tracks, and immediately ran in that direction. All the while listening for any clues. Less than a minute later, he heard the hisses and shrieks of the foglet, but he didn't hear anything from Evie. He came upon another intersection of tunnels and saw the foglet ahead, bending over a wooden platform, slashing its claws downward, and pulling up planks of wood. He ran directly at the monster and leapt at its back, his sword pulled back to his shoulder. The creature sensed movement behind him and turned, and the monster-slayer plunged his sword straight through the foglet's chest - the momentum of his leap knocking them both on top of the platform. Despite having a blade through its chest, the monster was not yet dead and tried to claw at Geralt's face. As the witcher put both arms up to protect himself, he noticed a knife sticking out of the foglet's cheek. He quickly pulled the knife out and began hammering the creature's skull over and over with the weapon. Eventually, the foglet's arms fell slack to its side, but Geralt, in his rage, kept piercing the monster's head with the blade, each blow punctuated by a frenzied, desperate growl.

The witcher finally came to his senses and realized the foglet was dead. Breathing heavy, he leapt off its corpse. He looked down into the hole of the damaged platform and saw Evie's legs. Blood – that looked black in the darkness – covered her trousers. He didn't see any movement from his wife and his breath caught in his throat. He jumped off the platform, dropped flat on his stomach, and crawled under the platform. He saw that Evie's eyes were closed, and for a moment he feared she was dead. But then he saw that her lips were moving and that she was whispering to herself. A rush of air exploded from Geralt's lungs. He hadn't even realized that he'd been holding his breath.

"Evie? Baby, tell me you're okay," he pleaded.

Evie opened her eyes, let out a sob of relief and reached forward for her witcher.