A/N: Long time between updates? Check. But I always thought the best apology was a new chapter.

"Because I did it!"

That's more than a little unexpected. I paused for a few moments, thinking about the implications. The killing ground I found Kris' body in was filled with pieces of evidence pointing to a monster as the killer. Evidence supported by Hanna's surprise at his demise. But if Hanna is responsible for the previous death's, what had changed? There's more to this story.

"Explain. Now."

Hanna had, in my surprise realized what she had said. She did not withdraw however, standing firm before me. "I said that I killed two of the Baron's guards in the past week. Niellen's transformation is at it's strongest during the full moon, two nights ago. Five days ago, the Baron's men decided it were best to get rid of him. None of the village agreed, or so I thought then." Picking at her tunic, eyes determinedly set on me. This one is nervous, but strong. "Margrit thought to use it as an opportunity too. I had always known Niellen were more than he appeared, but I never quite knew what that meant. What I saw that night…"

"You saw him transform."

"Not then, and I wouldn't until the next night. Margrit and I saw a massive beast, eating what were left of a deer. I-I knew it were Niellen. I felt the same way in that moment as I sometimes did when he came back from a hunt." Blushing. Eyes down. "Looking back, it were always on the full moon that I felt like that."

"You said that you saw him transform later."

"Y-yes. The wolves led me here, after that bit with Haddy. Sweet boy. They led me here, to this house. The next morn', they brought me food from their kills. Niellen weren't with them, but he came back later that evening. He didn't enter the hut but went down underneath. There's a door, here under the table, and I opened it and…"

"You watched him change."

Nod. "I did. And then I understood. I went out to find him that eve, but no matter how hard I searched, I couldn't find him." Odd. Come back to that later. "But I did find the Baron's men."

You asked them what they were doing out here?"

"I tried. They insisted they were asking the questions. Said 'twas time the beast in these woods were killed, so the village wouldn't have any excuse not to pay up. Said there were rumors of treasure in the forest, and they were gonna have it, as soon as Niellen were dead!"

"So, you killed them."

"I had to! They were gonna' kill Niellen if they got the chance! What kind of wife would I be if I didn't protect my husband!" Hanna took a deep breath. I could hear her mutter under her breath. Numbers? "I killed the first one, but the second one got away." I raised an eyebrow; Hanna was not a powerfully built woman.

I said as much, and she looked at me sheepishly. "The pack helped. I had been following them, looking for Niellen. They drove off the second one before he could react to me stabbing his friend. I always carry a knife, see?"

I examine the knife she drew. Four-inch blade. Three-inch handle. Curved edge, flat spine, likely meant for carving meat. No pits, small chip near the end of the knife. Painful if used to stab someone, but it could work. I nod.

Putting her knife away, Hanna explained, "I found him later, wandering around, lost in the woods. Said he lost his guide. I guess that must have been Kris. I can't believe, I mean, why would he lead them to my Niellen?" She looks up at me, accusing. "You said Niellen killed him."

"Body appeared to have been killed just this morning. Looks like Kris didn't take your advice to leave."

Hanna sat down on the bed. As she caught her face in her hands, I heard a soft patter on the small porch outside. Visitors? Two, smelling of wet dog. I nudge the door open, drawing steel, only to be ignored as two massive wolves pushed through to Hanna. One had a pair of rabbits dangling from its mouth and the other quickly started nuzzling Hanna from behind, curling up around her protectively.

This was weird. Forget being ignored, these two just walked in and went right to Hanna as though they had been trained from birth. And the rabbits…

Oh. Oh shit.

"You're pregnant."

The shock on her face is clear. "Wh-what? No, that's not-" Eyes widened, Hanna gasps. "But that's- No. No, if I'm pregnant, then that means Niellen-" She stopped. A hand reached down to her stomach.

"Hanna, the wolves can smell it on you. I hadn't met you before, so I couldn't tell myself, but these wolves reveal two things to me. First, you carry the pack leader's scent even more than they do. They know you are their pack and will defend you until that changes." They also know I'm talking about them, but aren't moving from near Hanna, or even acknowledging me besides twitching ears. Very strange. "Second, I can tell by watching their behavior."

"Their behavior?"

I nod. "Wolfpacks only have one breeding pair at a time. During the pregnancy, the pack brings food to pregnant mothers while they cannot hunt. There's something else too. You said you were searching for Niellen. But he hasn't told you about what he is. The pack may not understand why, or what that means, but they know he doesn't want you to see him like that. So, they led you away from him."

"Away from him?"

"Yes."

"He doesn't want to see me? Why doesn't he want to see me? Is it the babe? Does he know? Why didn't he tell me? He should have-"

Hysterics. Great. "Stop." Silence. "Breath." In. Out. In. Out. "First, he is ashamed of himself. Most werewolves are. They live on the fringes of civilization to avoid hurting others, and to avoid bringing that shame on those they love. It's part of why certain cases of lycanthropy can be cured with the help of a lover. From what I can tell, Niellen's cannot be cured this way. And I doubt living in Velen is helping his case. Most werewolves only transform three, maybe four, nights a month. Niellen transforms more often than that, doesn't he?"

She didn't need to answer. It was clear on her face that Niellen was away from home more nights than that. "I-I'm lucky if I sleep with him a full week of the month. He is away so much, but he is always back just before sunrise, each day."

Hmmm. That confirms the last piece of the puzzle. Whatever is driving the corruption in Velen is most likely making Niellen's condition worse. The wolves, Niellen's betas probably, are huge. Five feet at the shoulder, mottled black and grey coats, clean fur and teeth. Likely made larger by proximity to Niellen. He probably has memory problems between transformations, but the mental differences between his two forms are probably negligible once you get past the rage and hunting instincts. A predator, top of the food chain, placed there by a force that actively corrupts the land it claims as its domain. One that killed his neighbor and ate his liver.

Interesting piece, the liver. It is the largest single abdominal organ, meant to purify the body. After death though…Witchers use it for alchemy. Animals eat it for the protein, and vitamins. I had once heard of a sorceress that could divine a dead man's final thoughts from the liver.

Most likely he ate it for the same reason most werewolves would: warm flesh, full of nutrients. But a werewolf of this caliber may have eaten it for something else. I don't want to guess if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"Hanna." She looks up from where the wolves are prodding the rabbits towards her. Urging her to eat. "Make yourself some dinner. Your husband and I need to have a conversation."

"Y-You knew? Did you know that I shut myself in here to wait out me change?"

Niellen was strong. Most werewolves I had encountered in this region before were. But Niellen was even stronger than those few. His regeneration was especially impressive. Ever since Margrit had shown up and all but begged me to spare him, I had watched as cuts and slashes that I knew were laced with blade oils designed to stop regeneration closed as though they were paper cuts. Even the deep slash I had inflicted from his left hip to right shoulder had stopped bleeding.

And Margrit thought she could control someone like this with wolfsbane soup?

"I knew. And I didn't mind. But you chose Hannah. I wanted her to see you. I wanted her to fear you! She'd not have stayed. And we could be together!"

Interestingly enough, I'm pretty sure she would have stayed. But we can fix the ignorance after the Lover's Spat.

"You brought her here. That night. Was the reason I had the taste of blood in me mouth come morn."

Funny. Looks like Niellen is starting to put everything together.

"I did it for us!" Ah, the bitch. Should probably interrupt her here. "She was to see you turn, not more!"

"And she did. But not that night. He was already transformed that night, wasn't he?"

"Wh-what? How do you-?"

"Niellen. You hired me to find your wife. To determine what happened to her. Are you still willing to pay for my services?"

"W-what did you find witcher? A body? Blood on the ground? No. I know what happened. I killed her. I killed my wife! My Hannah!"

"Interesting. She looked pretty spry this afternoon."

"W-what!?" Ah, the chorus of baffled family members.

"I found Hannah earlier this afternoon. She was actually looking for you, Niellen. But your pack is more intelligent than you would think. They led her in circles around the forest whenever she tried to find you."

"B-but that's impossible! She was killed, I'm certain of it!"

"Really, Margit? Way I hear it, you ran for your life when you saw Niellen. Didn't look back." Hannah recoiled as though struck. "Courageous woman. Stood her ground and covered for a young boy out exploring."

I turned to Niellen. Ever seen a werewolf's jaw hit the floor? I don't recommend the way to get there, It isn't the safest thing in the world, but looking at Niellen now, I felt the urge to laugh. "Pick up your jaw Niellen. You did kill someone. Just not your wife."

Click. "She's alive? But, then who did I-"

"Hold that thought. Margrit." The traitorous sister stopped, halfway to the cave entrance. "We need to talk. You set up your sister to be killed by her husband. You sought to claim her husband for yourself. And now after you discover that your sister has survived you are attempting to flee from the man you claimed to love. Why?"

"I…I don't know anymore, Master Witcher. I was just sick of it! She didn't love Niellen! Not truly! How could she when she didn't even know who he was! She couldn't! She doesn't deserve him! She doesn't deserve anything, and yet- A-and yet-!"

Margrit's shoulders began to shake, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I just—"

Niellen seemed to understand. "Go home, Margrit. I do not know if we will ever see each other again."

Margrit recoiled. After a moment, she nodded, turned, and walked out of the cave.

People talk all the time about burning bridges. Sometimes it's all that's left to do.

"I said no, Yennefer! And I don't intend to change that decision!"

I struggle to keep my calm. Mousesack—no, Ermion, ever since he had been named Hierophant of the Skellige Circle—had always been a stiff-necked traditionalist. Even as the frigid battlements of Kaer Trolde he was unwavering in his position. Never looking to break what eggs he had and leaving them to rot rather than break them open and discover something new. A rather disappointing aspect of the most influential circle of druids in the Northern Realms.

Fortunately, I am not some up and coming apprentice looking to make a name for myself. I am a powerful mage intent on finding my daughter and destroying the Wild Hunt before they hurt her.

"Ermion, I am not asking out of some petty thirst for knowledge or out of a desire for power! I am trying to uncover what happened there, so I might ascertain if someone I love dearly was injured!"

"Someone whose name you will not even tell me!" Ermion clearly grew quite frustrated with me, although evidently not surprised. He leads a druid circle after all. Secretive is expected behavior for them, like it is of all mages.

"I told you! This is a delicate matter, and not one I am inclined to tell all of Skellige!"

Ermion's outrage grew palpable. "Oh! So, I am the greatest gossip in all the Isles now!" His eyes grew harder then, as cold as the winters he guided people through. "I am sorry, Yennefer. But I will not allow you to ruin my people's hard work at uncovering the events that so ruined such a large swath of forest."

Damn. He really believes I am here to steal from him. And in a sense, I am. If the Wild Hunt gets a hold of Ciri, then Rag nar Roog could be upon us. Skelligans have battle, glory, and legends flowing within their veins. With the prevention of the end of the world I may very well be thieving away all three. I grit my teeth. How did Geralt get people like this to help him anyway?

Wait!

Ermion had let himself relax as he considered my lack of response - a concession in many of our shared circles. "Now if that will be all, I have work to do. King Bran has requested I attend him in-"

"It's Ciri."

Ermion stops mid-turn. He looks me in the eyes, searching for duplicity. "Yakshit."

I smile. Geralt to my aid again it seems. "Not this time, Ermion. She returned to our world a few months past, pursued by the Wild Hunt."

"The Wild Hunt?"

"Indeed. Ciri is important to them for some reason, that I can only conclude has something to do with her heritage, her gift." I step forward, pleading now, and hoping it wasn't obvious to him. "I cannot let them have her. I know better than most that Eredin will not allow her to live free and will not allow her to leave. She will be a prisoner to them, forced to do as they tell her for the rest of her natural life." I brace myself to continue, looking away. "And likely the lives of any children she has."

I look back at Ermion. "And when he has her, this world will be left completely vulnerable to the White Frost. All the world will freeze beneath it."

Ermion is silent, considering my words. The silence continues, and I step away to the edge of the castle battlements. He will not help me. He is too concerned with tradition, and the status quo. I have just revealed my true intentions, left myself and my plans vulnerable, for nothing. And here I was hoping Geralt's skill with troublesome clients may have rubbed off on me.

Ermion's oaths to Ciri. His Skelligan thirst for battle, and legends. It would not be enough to convince him to go against his precious status quo.

I should have known better. Geralt always made it look so easy. A word here, a battle there. He always seemed to get people to listen to him with so little effort. He told them to do something, and they did it. There was a time when everyone I met did so at the slightest indication from me. Yet, ever since I had met Geralt, I had seen more and more people discard me and heed him. Once upon my life I would have been jealous, but recent events reminded me that our skills do tend to intersect often.

I had hoped that taking a page from his book would aid me here, but I can see that I may not have whatever it is that enables his persuasiveness.

Can't be his charismatic air. Must be his personality.

"If you will not-"

"How do you know she is back?"

I turn, surprised at this turn of events, but managing to keep it off my face. "You will help me?" That never worked. No one compromised themselves, nor the region they were responsible for stabilizing, all for someone they haven't seen in over a decade.

But Ermion's eyes were colder than the Skelligan winter. "How do you know she is back?" he repeated.

So that is how it is. "In addition to an increase in Wild Hunt raids, several of which have been on mine and Geralt's persons, there have been confirmed sightings of her in Velen, and in Novigrad. I received drawings of her from our agents that matched her facial structure. She was also confirmed to be in possession of a single longsword, carried over her shoulder in the witcher fashion."

"Do you have the picture?"

I reach into my bag on the ground, enchanted using several methods to enhance capacity and preserve the contents. The sketch of Ciri that I carry with me was folded near the top. I place it in Ermion's waiting hands, hoping he would accept it as proof.

Ermion was silent as he opened the picture. His face was unreadable as he scrutinized the sketch.

"I know it is only a sketch," I start, "but I have identified trace elements of her presence as well. Nothing concrete, but enough to convince me that-"

"—that someone, or something, is cloaking her."

I am unable to keep the surprise of my face this time. He notices and seems amused by it. "Do not appear so surprised, Yennefer. I am familiar with a number of ways to cloak one's presence from others." His gaze returns to the picture. "I admit it does resemble her. I would not be surprised if someone mistook this person for Cirilla." He looked up from the picture, glancing towards the harbor below the castle. "That, combined with your other observations, leads me to believe that you believe it."

Excuse me? "You think I would lie about this, Ermion?"

"I believe that you believe that Ciri has returned. And that you are not the kind of woman that would abuse Ciri's name to gain a small amount of knowledge or power." Ermion turns and slowly walks back to the doors. Being appropriately melodramatic for a mage of his station. Turning back, I got my answer.

"I will bring the matter of the Wild Hunt to King Bran and the Jarls. And I will verify Rag nar Roog's approach with a druid that has been watching for its approach all his life. If he agrees with the timing, and with King Bran's permission, I will take you to see the cataclysm location myself."

Thank you, Geralt.

A/N: Yennefer has a little bit of unreliable narrator here. We know that no one with ever listens to the witcher, but Geralt has had a bit of a winning streak lately. Knowing what was going on with Ciri kinda made him seem on top of things. And now her success with Ermion only adds to that streak.

Please Read and Review. Happy New Year!