Two notes this time. First, I, uh, forgot to post this chapter. It's been on SpaceBattles for months, but I somehow forgot to crosspost it here. My bad, that won't happen again.

Now more important news. If any of you are not aware, this site has been attacked. The details are available on multiple posts on reddit's r/FanFiction, but for now the relevant keywords are "javascript injection", for the interested. The vulnerability was in user profiles, and the embedded javascript is now sometimes able to clone itself onto the user profile of any user who views an infected profile.

If the above explanation made your eyes glaze over, HERE IS THE TLDR: Don't look at any user profiles on this site for the foreseeable future. I am sure there will be an announcement on r/FanFiction once this clears up.

7

"Your class seems to be going well," Glynda said conversationally over breakfast.

Geralt nodded. "The kids are picking it very quickly," he said. "Faster than I expected, really. They'll be decent enough Witchers by the end of the semester at this rate, with or without mutations."

On his other side, Yennefer chuckled. "I do not think I shall ever get used to this," she said, amused. "You sound like a proper teacher, Geralt."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I've taught before."

"Yes. Ciri. And only when I let her out of my sight." She smirked at him. "You were far from a traditional teacher with her. What changed?"

'She wasn't exactly a traditional student." He glanced down the staff table to where Ciri, Triss, Dandelion, Regis, and Priscilla where eating together. "She'll be headed out soon, I guess."

"Most likely," agreed Yennefer. "You know she can't stay in one place for long. She's too much like you." A wry laugh escaped her. "You certainly taught her vagrancy."

"You're sure you want to stay?"

"Quite sure," said Yennefer evenly. "What's keeping me back home, after all? Certainly not the Lodge, and my associations with Nilfgaard have returned little to nothing. Getting involved in the war has left me with quite the shortage of friends, you know."

He grimaced. "I can understand that."

"Ciri and the others won't be leaving today, will they?" Glynda asked suddenly.

Geralt glanced back at her. "Probably not. Why?"

"It would just be a shame for all of them to miss the dance. They'd be more than welcome."

There was a pause.

"What dance?" Geralt asked.

"So, this dance. I assume you want to go?" Geralt asked, looking over at Yennefer. They were back in their suite, and she was lounging in an armchair, a book in her hands.

"Don't assume, Geralt," she replaied lazily, turning a page. "It's quite unattractive."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, don't you?"

"I'm ambivalent," she said, without looking up.

"Liar. You've always dragged me to things like this."

"You must be confusing me with someone else," she said, a dry edge to her voice. "Triss, perhaps?"

There was silence for a moment. It stretched.

"I'm not going to apologize, if that's what you're waiting for."

"It's not," Geralt said roughly. "I'm—"

"Oh, do stop," she said, snapping her book shut and rolling her eyes at him. "It's all in the past, Geralt. Stop fretting."

He sighed. "All right. But really, what do you mean you're 'ambivalent?'"

"Exactly what I said. I would neither mind going, nor mind staying here. I would also have no objections to going somewhere else."

"I thought you liked social gatherings like this."

She smiled wryly. "I liked politicking, Geralt. I liked going out and meeting with other people who were powerful or influential, and manipulating them, and risking being manipulated in turn. It was a game, and one which I was—am—quite good at. This is entirely different. I somehow doubt there will be much of that kind of society at a school dance. The only attraction here will be actual socialization, which is far less interesting."

"Then you don't want to go?"

"I have told you twice, Geralt, I am ambivalent," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Don't make me repeat it again. It is less interesting, not uninteresting. I will certainly need to become familiar with Miss Goodwitch and the others at some point, but I am in no particular hurry. That's all."

Geralt considered that. "All right," he said. Then he shrugged. "I guess I'm ambivalent too."

"Really?" she asked, her eyebrows rising slightly. "I would have thought you'd hate the very idea."

"Don't assume, Yen."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, very clever," she said, but there was a smile in her voice. "But really."

Geralt glanced at his desk. "These are the people I work with," he said slowly. "I haven't really had colleagues before. I haven't even had a place where I worked before. I feel like I should be a part of it, if that makes sense?"

For a moment there was silence. Then Yennefer started to laugh. "Oh, Geralt," she said. "You are adorable sometimes, do you know?"

He blinked at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she chuckled. "Yes, it makes sense. I think we should go."

"All righ—"

"And you will be wearing something other than your armor."

"…Damn."

Geralt shifted uncomfortably, trying to roll his shoulders in the too-tight sleeves. I hate this, he thought savagely. These aren't clothes, they're livery.

"Stop squirming, Geralt," said Yennefer softly beside him. "You look dashing."

"I feel like I'm being slowly crushed," he growled, tugging lightly at his collar.

"Oh, quit whining," she said dryly. "I know those clothes were well-tailored. You'll live."

Geralt sighed. "Give me a striga any day," he muttered.

She slowed, falling into step beside him, and linked her arm with his, pressing gently against him. Her fur collar tickled at his shoulder, and her side was warm against his. "Stop your moaning, Geralt," she ordered teasingly. "I'm beginning to feel unappreciated."

He sighed. "All right, I'll stop. Where is the dance, anyway?"

"I believe it's being held in the entrance hall," she said, pulling him gently along. "Come. It wouldn't do to be late."

Yennefer's boots clicked against the stone floor as they walked down the hall. Slowly the sound of laughter and loud voices reached their ears, all against the backdrop of soft music.

"Hmm," Yennefer murmured thoughtfully. "Violins. I somehow expected their music to be less… familiar."

"It's just one song," Geralt said.

"True. What is the music like here, Geralt? I haven't heard much."

"Nor have I. It's not something I pay a lot of attention to."

Yennefer chuckled. "Nor I, but it pays to be familiar with the local music culture. It's a safe conversation topic."

"You'd know better than me, Yen."

The doors to the great hall were open when they arrived. They were on the upper landing, and below them were a great crowd of students and teachers alike. Geralt recognized several. Dandelion and Priscilla were there, immediately visible with Dandelion's bright purple outfit. There was Velvet, on the sidelines with Ruby and Jaune. There were Yang and Blake, together on the floor. Weiss was fussing over the decorations. Pyrrha was lingering near Ren, and Nora was practically orbiting him, making occasional attempts to pull him onto the dance floor. Coco was dancing with someone he didn't recognize, and Yatsuhashi and Fox were both watching the pair like hawks.

He was brought out of his observations by the sound of Yennefer's laughter. She was watching him, a merry smile on her face. "You really are adorable, Geralt," she said, low enough to be private. "You just picked out every single one of your students, didn't you? Like a mother hen, you are."

He looked away. "I just happened to spot them," he said.

"Yes, of course," she said. "That's why you were searching so hard. Come, I believe you owe me a dance."

"Right." He cracked his neck. "Yes. Dancing."

She leaned into him, laughing. "Oh, calm down. You know how to dance."

"Doesn't mean I enjoy it."

They strode down the main steps together. A few of the nearer dancers and idlers stopped what they were doing and watched their descent. Geralt suppressed the flare of jealousy as he saw a few eyes dart across Yennefer's black dress.

Yennefer herself had no such compulsions. "You see? The clothes do fit you. I look forward to having to fend some of these harpies off later."

"Yen. Play nice."

"Why should I? It should be clear they aren't welcome."

"Doesn't stop people from looking."

She raised an eyebrow up at him. "Oh? You would know, would you?"

He looked down at her, then slowly smiled. "Not anymore," he said, slowly trailing his eyes down her dress. "No more wandering for me."

She rolled her eyes. "You really are a hopeless romantic," she said, pulling him towards the dance floor. "Come on."

He followed with a faint laugh.

"May I have this next dance?"

Geralt turned, blinking. Yang stood there, her simple white dress bright in the electric lights, a smile on her face. He and Yennefer had just been leaving the dance floor for a rest. Yang's hand was outstretched to him, but her eyes were on Yennefer.

The sorceress, looked the girl up and down expressionlessly, then turned to him. "Well, Geralt?" she asked. "Aren't you going to give the girl an answer?"

Geralt narrowed his eyes at her. "I see what you're doing," he accused.

A smile broke across her features. "Oh, do calm down," she said. "It's just a dance. I shan't mind so long as I have you back by the end of the night."

"Don't worry," Yang said, grinning. "I'll make sure he doesn't get any ideas. How much do you like your jaw, Geralt?"

Geralt glared balefully between the two of them for a moment, then sighed. "Fine," he said, and took Yang's hand, following her onto the dance floor.

They remained like that, swaying and stepping to the music for about a minute, before she spoke. "I didn't expect you to know how to dance," she said. "You're not bad."

"Believe me, it's not by choice."

She giggled. "Oh, same, believe me. You never know, though. Maybe it'll come in useful one day."

"It has in the past," he shrugged. "Once or twice."

"That's reassuring," she said. There was a pause as he led her through a twirl, and then they were back together again.

"So what's this about, Yang?" he asked, keeping his voice low in case the topic was private.

"What, do I have to have an ulterior motive?" she asked, a coy quirk to her lips. "I can't just want a piece of the hottest professor in the school?"

"Yang."

She sighed, dropping the act. "Mom left a few days ago," she said. "She said she was going after… well."

"Raven."

"So you did know."

He nodded. "I'm sorry, should I have told you? I didn't think about it."

She shook her head. "No, Mom did. But… is that where Qrow went, too? He's been missing for a few weeks now. Haven't heard from him."

Geralt nodded. "Yeah. I assumed he told you, too."

Yang snorted at that. "Nah. Qrow never tells me anything. He doesn't like me."

Geralt frowned at her. "Really?"

She didn't look at him. "Yeah. He's never really… trusted me. It doesn't help that he's never told me anything about Raven. His own sister."

"And you're hoping I know something?"

"Yeah," said Yang, looking back up at him. Her lilac eyes, a few shades brighter than Yennefer's, were hard. "You got along with Qrow, and Mom trusts you. I don't want you to break their trust… but if you know anything you can tell me, I'm curious."

Geralt nodded. "All right. What do you know?"

Yang looked down at her shoes. Her hair tickled his chest through the fabric. "Nothing at all," she said, her voice soft. "I know she was on a team at Beacon with Mom, Dad, and Qrow, and that she left a few months after I was born. That's all I know."

"Then I can tell you a bit," he said. It wasn't as though he'd been asked to keep any of it secret.

Her head snapped up to look at him. "Really?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Yeah," he said. "Here and now? Or do you want to talk about it another time?"

She blinked and suddenly seemed to remember where they were. "Uh. Later. Can I come by your office tomorrow?"

"Sure. I'll be there most of the afternoon."

She nodded. A smile was spreading across her face. "Okay. Thanks, Geralt. I really appreciate it."

"It's no trouble. You deserve to know. I don't have much, though."

"Anything is a start." She pulled away and curtseyed prettily. "I'll let you get back to your date. I should go check on…" She stopped. Looked around the hall.

Geralt did the same. There was Weiss, dancing with a blue-haired kid with goggles. There was Blake, swaying gently in the arms of a boy with a monkey's tail.

"Where's Ruby?" Yang asked.

Geralt frowned. "Not just Ruby," he said quietly. "Where are Ozpin and Ironwood?"

Yang looked up at him. "Do you think something's wrong?" she asked.

He grimaced. "I don't know." He sighed. "Yen's going to kill me."

"Not if you invite her along."

"Even then." He shook his head. "You get back to the dance. I'll look into this."

"I haven't got a partner anyway," she said easily. "I'll come too!"

He narrowed his eyes at her, then shrugged. "Fine. Come on."

"Geralt, I'm quite sure it's nothing," said Yennefer for the third time. "Ironwood did not strike me as the type for dances. I expect Ozpin was just seeing him off."

"Then where's Ruby?" Yang asked.

"She didn't seem like the type for dances either," said Yennefer, and Geralt could practically hear her rolling her eyes, even though she was behind him. "You saw how uncomfortable she was in those heels. And really, those had to be five inches! For a girl of her size, that's rather gratuitous, isn't it?"

"Hey, I picked out those shoes for her," Yang said, but there was a grin in her voice. "You got something against my fashion sense?"

"You have a fashion sense?"

Geralt knelt. The two women fell silent behind him.

He was on the stone steps outside the hall. There had been a great many footsteps here, very recently. But more recently than the rest, and walking out, not in…

"Small feet, long heels," he mumbled. "Ruby was here." He breathed deep through his nose, and there it was—the telltale scent of cinnamon and roses he'd come to associate with his youngest student.

"Are you… smelling out my sister?" Yang sounded a little disturbed.

"Would you rather I didn't find her?" he asked, without turning around.

"No, no, go ahead. You sure you're not a dog faunus?"

"Yes." He stood up, inhaling deeply. "This way."

He led them at a slow jog. They crossed the courtyard towards Beacon's CCT tower.

"Why would she be headed to the CCT?" Yang asked. There was an undercurrent of worry in her voice now.

"Don't know," said Geralt. "Maybe she needed to…"

He trailed off, stopping short. His eyes narrowed. There was a hint of yellow in the bushes beside the tower's entrance.

He broke into a run. Yennefer was immediately on his heels, and after a surprised "Hey!" Yang followed. "What's going…?"

She stopped. She'd seen him too. Geralt knelt beside the armored body, worming his fingers into the space between the helmet and the chestpiece. "There's a pulse," he said. "He's alive."

"Good," said Yennefer. "But clearly something is happening. Your instincts are keen as ever, Geralt."

"Sometimes I wish they weren't." He stood up, looking up at the tower. He closed his eyes. "Shh."

There was sound coming from higher up the tower. Movement? Combat, maybe?

Boom.

"Was that an explosion?" Yang asked sharply.

"Yes," Geralt growled, sprinting inside. There were more fallen soldiers inside, but he didn't have time to check on them. He ran into the elevator, brought a finger up to the controls, and then hesitated.

Only one guess, he told himself. The sound hadn't come from high enough on the tower to be Ozpin's office, but that still left dozens of floors.

Still, if there was a fight going on, it made sense that it would be at a landmark, a significant floor. And there were only four in this tower. Ozpin's office, the Vault, the lobby, and the CCT terminals.

He tapped the button to go to the terminal floor as Yennefer and Yang filed in behind him. The doors slid shut, and the elevator began to rise. They were silent as it rose, save for the sound of Yang's rapid breathing.

"Don't worry," Geralt said, surprising himself. "Ruby can take care of herself."

Yang blinked at him. Then she smiled. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, she can."

The doors opened. Ruby blinked at them. Ironwood turned to face them. Geralt immediately noticed the crater in the floor.

He sighed. "So," he said dryly. "What did we miss?"

"They used your dance as a cover, Ozpin!" Ironwood roared, his fists clenched tightly at his side.

"I am well aware of that, Ironwood," said the Headmaster calmly.

They were in Ozpin's office now. Yang and Ruby had been sent back to the dance floor. Despite Ironwood's request, Yennefer had not gone with them.

"You may trust her, Geralt," he'd said, "and I trust you, but it's not that simple. She's not part of this."

"You might as well make me a part of it now," Yennefer had purred. "I intend to make Geralt tell me all the sordid details anyway."

Back in the present, Ironwood threw up his hands. "Oh, good," he said sarcastically. "You're aware. Fantastic. Are you going to do anything? Tighten security, maybe? Not let this happen again?"

"I assure you, I have no intention of letting this happen again," said Ozpin, his voice still perfectly level. "But this is not Atlas, General. We cannot solve our problems simply by throwing more men at them."

"It's starting to look like you can't solve your problems at all," Ironwood growled. "This—"

Geralt stepped forward. "Calm down, Ironwood," he said sharply. "Shouting isn't going to get a damn thing done."

Ironwood swallowed and slowly unclenched his fists. "You're right," he said grimly. "But something has to be done."

"Agreed," said Glynda. "We need to know what happened. We should talk to Miss Rose, as soon as possible."

"Not tonight," Ozpin said, in a voice that brooked no argument. "She has had more than enough excitement for one night. We can speak to her in the morning, once she's had time to calm herself and her team."

Ironwood let out a low growl, visibly containing his anger. "Ozpin," he said, his voice tight. "The CCT was just infiltrated. The enemy had direct access to the largest information network in the world. And you want to delay finding out more so that one girl can get a good night's sleep?"

"What do you propose we do, General?" Ozpin asked. "We can't do much until tomorrow anyway. There is no reason to disturb Miss Rose's night any more than it already has been."

Ironwood shook his head. "We could plan," he said. "We could figure out what we want to do in the morning! The faster we act, the better."

"We know the basics of what happened," Geralt put in. "A woman snuck into the CCT, disabling the guards on the way. She was hiding when Ruby arrived, so we don't know whether Ruby interrupted her in the middle of something. Then she fled when you arrived."

"But we have no idea what she was after!" Ironwood said, rounding on him. "And without that, how can we plan a countermeasure?"

"You think Ruby would know what the infiltrator wanted?" Geralt asked, raising his eyebrows. "More to the point, you think she wouldn't have already told us if she did? She's not an idiot, Ironwood."

The General sagged. "That's a fair point," he admitted.

"We can certainly call Miss Rose in the morning," Ozpin said. "A good night's sleep may even help her make connections or conclusions which may be helpful. But for now, we should work with what we know."

"That's not much to work with," Glynda said, shaking her head. "The best we can do is increase security and set your cyberwarfare division to find out what she wanted, James. I don't see many other options."

"That will be a start, at least," said Ozpin. "One thing is clear, however. Our concerns about the Vytal Festival as a potential target were clearly well-founded. The White Fang's recent activities, a rampaging mech in downtown Vale, and now this? Something is stirring."

Geralt blinked. "What's this about a mech in downtown Vale?" he asked.

Ozpin glanced at him. "Oh, you were away on your mission with Team CVFY," he said. "Team RWBY was involved in a… scuffle… with a stolen Atlesian Paladin."

Geralt blinked slowly. "Oh. What's a Paladin?"

"The newest model of Atlesian mech," Ironwood said grimly. "It can be manually or remotely piloted. It hadn't only just been announced when this happened. They have a source inside Atlas."

"A source capable of transporting several hundred tons of military equipment from Atlas to a warehouse in southern Vale without being detected," said Ozpin coolly. "General, when you set your cyberwarfare division on the CCT, I want you to be absolutely certain you trust every person on the job."

"You know I will, Ozpin."

"Good." Ozpin sighed. "And we must decide on a candidate to take up poor Amber's mantle. As soon as possible."

"You know my feelings," said Ironwood evenly. "Let me bring in an Atlesian Specialist. Winter Schnee—"

"Would be a perfect fit for an entirely different Maidenhood," said Ozpin evenly. "Besides which, that would leave us with two Atlesian Maidens."

"The Great War is over, Oz," said Ironwood reproachfully. "We're allies, remember?"

"Yes. And I'd like to keep it that way." Ozpin's voice was firm. "I believe I have a couple of candidates who may well be suited to the mantle. I just need a few more days to think before I make my decision."

"You're the expert," Ironwood sighed. "But we also need to increase security. Just say the word and I can double the military garrison—"

"And set every Grimm on the continent to watching us?" Ozpin asked dryly. "No. A subtler hand is needed here. I will call back my agents, all that I can spare. Every Huntsman I can contact will be in Vale by the time of the festival."

"That's not enough, Oz."

"It's not all I'll do." Ozpin glanced at Geralt. "How would you say your students are coming along, Geralt?"

"They're not ready for a war, if that's what you're asking," Geralt said flatly.

"No," said Ozpin sadly. "But I fear it shan't be long before they have to fight one. Are they at least ready for a skirmish?"

"Depends. What's your plan?"

"We need more information on the enemy's movements," said Ozpin grimly. "The students' training missions are coming up in less than two weeks."

"You plan to send the students into this?" Glynda asked sharply.

"They will be with trained Huntsmen," Ozpin replied. "And it's not as though I'm sending them into the most dangerous areas. But we need all hands on deck, Glynda, and this is the best way to achieve that without alerting the general populace that something is wrong. We cannot afford paranoia. Not now. Whoever these people are, whatever they want, whether or not they are working with Salem… a Grimm incursion can only help their plans."

"Unless it kills them too," Ironwood said dryly.

"I doubt any of us are that lucky," Glynda murmured.

"Well," Yennefer said, as Geralt shut the door to their bedroom behind them. "I must say, I felt rather out of my depth back there."

"Sorry," he said. "There wasn't really time to catch you up on everything. There's time now, if you want."

He turned to face her. She was already out of her dress. Her nude body practically glimmered in the moonlight filtering in from the window. "Hmm, let me think," she said, putting a hand to her chin coyly. "No, I don't think I need to hear about it right at this moment, Geralt. I'd much rather put you to work at something else."

Geralt sighed, a faint grin coming to his lips. "Really? Now?"

"What?" she asked. "Are you not interested?"

He growled and began fiddling with his shirt. "No, I'm definitely interested. But what brought this on?"

"What can I say?" she asked, stepping forward to help him out of his clothes. "I enjoy a man who gives a damn."

"You promised me details," Yang said, slipping into the chair across from him. "I know things are busy, what with everything that happened last night, but…"

Geralt nodded, pushing his notes on the half-finished Grimm Oil aside. "It's fine," he said. "I did promise."

"So?" Yang asked, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling. "What do you know about my—about Raven?"

"I met one of her people on my mission with Team CFVY," he said.

"One of… her people?"

Geralt considered her for a moment. "Your mother's a bandit chief, Yang."

Yang froze. "What?"

"A bandit chief," Geralt repeated. "She's leader of a group that calls themselves the Branwen Clan."

The blood was rapidly drainjing from Yang's face. "Now way," she whispered looking sick. "I mean, I knew she had to be some kind of screwed up, to drop me like that, but a bandit?"

"It's more complicated than that," Geralt said. "The man I met, Zielon, knew his way around monsters. He was hunting the Leshen that CVFY and I were after."

Yang didn't move, didn't answer. She just watched him.

"I don't know much more than that," Geralt admitted. "I know the tribe's somewhere on Anima, but that's about it."

"Anima…" Yang closed her eyes pensively. "You said the guy knew his way around monsters. Was he a Witcher?"

"Not quite that well-trained," Geralt said. "And no mutagens. But he was the closest I've found to a Witcher, around here."

Yang took a deep breath. "If Raven's tribe know their way around monsters," she said slowly, "could they have saved Mom?"

Geralt considered that. "It's possible," he conceded. "Bit of a conclusion to jump to, though. Knowing how to fight a leshen is different from knowing how to recognize an incubus. There's no guarantee they know anything about those."

"This guy," Yang said, and Geralt noticed her eyes were ruby-red. "He could track, yeah? Would have had to, to fight a leshen."

"Yeah," Geralt admitted. "Yeah, he could track."

Yang stood up. "And she didn't," she said softly. "She didn't bother."

"You don't know the details, Yang," he reminded her.

"I know enough." She was shaking. "It wasn't enough that she had to abandon me as a baby; she couldn't even be bothered to help the woman who was actually a mother to me? Her own teammate?"

Geralt stood up. "Yang," he said gently. "Don't blow up my office."

Yang swallowed. "Yeah." Her red eyes met his. "Want to spar?"

Geralt thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure," he said. "Let me get my swords."

"So," he said through heavy gasps of air. "What are you going to do?"

They were seated on a bench outside the sparring ring. Yang was drinking deeply of her water bottle. Geralt himself had already emptied one waterskin and was working on the stopper of the second.

With a relieved sound, Yang pulled away from her bottle and looked at him. "Do?" she asked.

He nodded. "About Raven."

"For now, nothing," Yang said with a shrug. "I can't just drop everything and hop on a boat to Anima. Ruby needs me. Blake and Weiss, too. And I never saw myself as the dropout type."

"But once the semester ends?"

She shrugged. "If I can, yeah. I'd like to go looking. But… honestly, I don't know if I even want to know any more."

Geralt raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Yang nodded. "I used to wonder," she said quietly. "What could make someone abandon her daughter before her first birthday? What kind of person does that? Now I know." She bared her teeth, her eyes flaring red. "The same kind that leaves their teammate with an incubus for twelve years, and leaves her ex to care for two daughters alone."

"She probably didn't know Summer was alive," Geralt pointed out.

"But she could have," said Yang flatly. "She could have tracked her to wherever you found her. She could have tried. She didn't." She leaned back against the bench, looking up at the ceiling. "And that's what it boils down to, isn't it? That's the only reason she left me, too. Probably. She could have tried, and she didn't." She looked over at him. "Caring for someone isn't easy," she said. "My dad mostly shut down after Mom disappeared. I had to take care of Ruby mostly by myself. I know it's not easy." She chuckled dryly. "Turns out eight-year-old me was a better mother than my birth mom ever was, and that's all it comes down to."

"I'd have thought you'd want revenge," Geralt admitted. "Or at least some more concrete closure."

"Oh, I do," Yang said, and her voice was fervent. "I really, really do. I want to hold that bitch down and punch her until her bleeds. But that's not important, you know?" She sighed. "She left me because she had something better to do than care about me, or about Mom. I'm not leaving Ruby, or my teammates, in the same way. I'm better than her."

Geralt considered her for a moment. Then he nodded. "Yes," he agreed. "You are." He stood up. "Ready to go another round?"

She grinned and took his offered hand. "You know it. I won't go easy on you this time!"

"Good. Maybe it'll be an actual challenge."

"Oh, I am going to make you eat those words." Her grin was positively wolfish as she vaulted over the barrier and into the ring. "I wonder Xiao Long it'll take you to go flying this time?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're not funny," he told her flatly.

"Liar," she said, grinning, and charged.