Geralt frowned. The song now over, the children clapped and squealed as the little balls of light levitated quietly above the hand of the singer. The innkeeper's boy got up.

"How do you do that? Is it magic? Can I touch it?

- Oh, you should rather not," answered the musician. "They wouldn't like it."

As if on cue, as the little boy's finger streched out for the red ball, it flew away from his reach, and the three seemd to hurry back in the lute, disappearing as they reached it. The boy made a disappointed sound.

"I'm sorry" said the blind woman, with a little laugh. "They are quite shy."

Geralt turned toward the innskeeper.

"Can you ask her to come and join us?"

Jaskier whipped round to face his friend, indignation painted all over his face.

"And now you're against me too? As if fate had not been unkind enough to me, propelling this… This… Woman! Exactly in that inn, exactly at that time, stealing my own show? What have I ever done to you to deserve such treachery, pray tell me?"

The witcher grunted in response. The bard started pouting.

Meanwhile many voices raised to claim an encore, and the children were hopping to ask for the return of the shiny blobs, but the innkeeper came near the musician and, bending over, whispered a few words. The woman nodded in return and apologised to her young audience. Then she rised and took the hand of her guide to the table where an outraged bard and a stoic witcher were seated.

Now that he could see her close, Geralt noticed the pallor of her complexion. Her nose was quite thin, the lips were quivering, as if tired by the singing she had just performed. The innkeeper had been right: she was weary. His face seem to soften in welcome of the newcomer. Even if she couldn't see it, a warm attitude could be heard in the voice.

"Jaskier, move away, make room for our guest."

She hesitated.

"I - I don't mean to be of nuisance…

- My friend can move a bit."

Jaskier had been about to protest, but Geralt had just called him his friend. His friend! That was a day to remember, and the bard was happy enough to indeed move on the bench so that the musician could sit down. He even went so far as to guide her with his hand, though again she gave a start at the touch of the foreign hand, whose voice she still hadn't heard. Jaskier corrected the situation.

"Come sit here."

Identifying the sound with the hand touching her, the embarrassed musician took place beside the man welcoming her, thanking him in the process.

Geralt enquired.

"What would you like to drink? Ale? Wine?

- If I may… I'd really like something warm..."

He turned to the innkeeper in a silent question.

"Warm goat milk it is!" she exclaimed happily. Her skirts turned around and made their way to the kitchen.

"Thank you kind sir…

-Geralt. And I'm no sir.

- You're a knight though, intruded the still grumpy bard. Geralt shot him a furious glance.

- And that is Jaskier. And you are… ?

- Sara. They call me Sara.

- Pleasure. Curious song you were singing there. Couldn't place the words. Where is it from?"

The woman was quiet for a moment.

"It's a song from the land I was born. A foreign, far away place. You wouldn't have heard about it.

- Why is that so? I travel a lot.

- He's a witcher."

Another unwanted interruption, another furious look. Jaskier squirmed on his seat, his temerity running away from the frightening stare.

"A… A witcher? What is a witcher?"

Both turned they head, incredulous, to the woman who had just uttered the question. Geralt focused on her before answering. There was indeed something very foreign about her, but he couldn't believe she had never met anyone of his trade, even less heard of it. Jaskier searched for his companion's look, as if to ask what he was thinking of this, but Geralt was keeping his focus on the strange woman, just as the innkeeper was back with the apple juice. He put a few coins on the table.

"Add three meals."

The blind musician first protested, but the hostess answered kindly that it would do her no harm, to which Jaskier insisted that it was their pleasure. Geralt would have raised his eyebrow at the bard, if the smile now plainly drawn on his companion's face didn't say it clearly: what an inspiration for a new song, that the tale of the foreign lady who'd never met a witcher!

He answered kindly.

"I hunt monster for the people who hire me. Hence the travelling.

- I see. That must be dangerous…

- It is. Don't you have monsters where you were born?

- … We do. But… We don't hire people to get rid of them.

- Where is that place? You haven't said?

- I said it's far away, but the name wouldn't ring a bell to you. It's beyond the mountains of the East. I've been walking for a long time."

Her voice was calm, but Geralt could feel she was hiding something.

"And what brings you so far from your land?

- I… I am travelling. That's all."

The innkeeper put three plates fuming with stew in front of the party. The smell was delicious, so much that a rumble was heard. The musician apologised.

"I'm so sorry… I guess I am a bit hungry.

- Well so am I! conluded the bard, his spoon diving in the mouth-watering meal.