A/N: Hello everyone, here's your weekly update. Things are about to get interesting for Ellie and our witchers, expect some more nuggets of information on demons and Ellie's world in the next few chapters. I really hope you all like it, she has been a long time sitting alone in my brain and this random fanfic is her first outing. Anyway, enough from me, as always read, review and enjoy! :)

Chapter 15

Ellie had been in some shit places in her life but this was pretty high up on the top five list. The torch Eskel had left burning in the sconce outside had burnt out hours ago, and the dark only added to the general décor. It made it slightly easier to ignore the numerous rats' nests dotted around the cramped cell, although she could still hear and definitely smell them. The jagged stone walls were slick with mildew and moss, the floor wasn't much better, only improved infinitesimally by a thin layer of straw which had long gone mouldy.

Eskel had made a face as he led her into the cold prison cell which was to be her home until further notice. She felt bad for him, he had been one of the only ones beside Lambert, who had been on her side. She had given him a smile as she willingly walked into the cell he'd indicated and watch with regret as he left her alone for the night. He had promised to return the next day but that felt like years now she was left to her own thoughts.

Her back was pressed against the far wall, her knees drawn up to her chest in her favoured position. Partly for comfort, and partly for warmth. The cell was by no means as cold as the mountain pass but it wasn't far off. Even through the thick stone of the walls and the layers of rock outside she could hear the wind howling round the keep like a pack of angry wolves. The sound was desolate and forlorn, it reminded her of the sad, dilapidated condition of Kaer Morhen; the hall as large as the barracks back home in Purgatory, but empty and abandoned. She only just met him, but Vesemir felt like the last guard of an ancient order.

She let her head rest against the freezing stone of her prison, and shut her eyes. Had she been foolish, to follow this man she barely knew to a place she had never seen to ask for aid from people that saw her as only a monster? A wiser person might have said yes, but Ellie had been in similar situations before. Fuck, her whole life had been following people she barely knew into unknown situations. Why stop now? Still, a festering seed of doubt had planted deep inside her at the mention of a mind reading ritual. Did she want these slayers to look inside and see all the things she had done and all she was capable of?

Solomon had always taught her to trust where the doors took her, but this door, the one that had brought her here, had not been by her hand. Maybe now was the time to run. Opening her eyes again she looked around her dark cell for something to write with. After sifting her hands through the stinking straw, she found a fair-sized stone, not sharp but rough. Holding it firmly in her hand she began to scratch out the homing mark on the wall. A triangle surrounding a cross. The key to get back to Purgatory.

Sinking to the floor in front of it, she crossed her legs and rested her hands on her knees. She began to clear her mind of everything that had happened over the past few weeks. Meeting Lambert, travelling with him and his friends, encountering griffins and water hags, begin hunted, seeing Kaer Morhen for the first time, the moment by the waterfall. Her eyes flickered open. Reflexively she looked up at the low stone ceiling, covered in dripping stalactites. The thread that had led her here and guided most of her decisions, gave a tug on her gut as she looked up to where Lambert lay above her probably sleeping. She was grateful for all that he done for her, despite his abrasive attitude. She would be sorry to leave him.

With a deep sigh she shut her eyes and focused on finding the snag that would take her back home. It took longer than normal to find the weak point between worlds, and when she tried to grasp it, it kept disappearing. As if someone was snatching it from her. After several hours of frustrating work and nothing to show for it, Ellie collapsed backwards into the pile of mouldy straw. Something was definitely not right. However, despite the failed attempt to escape her less than pleasant cell, Ellie couldn't help feeling a tad relieved that she wouldn't be leaving the witcher without saying goodbye.

She was alerted to the start of a new day by Eskel paying her a visit. Time seemed even more fluid than normal down here, the lack of light making it hard to pinpoint whether it was night or day being the main factor. She could smell him before she could see or hear him. Unlike Lambert, Eskel and Geralt both had a distinctly herby scent to them. Geralt's was woody and brackish, similar to thyme, but Eskel had more of a fragrant smell about him. It reminded her of the rosemary that had grown in the woods near her childhood home. It was one of the things that had drawn her to him. The scarred witcher gave her one of his easy smiles as he approached the bars, a simple wooden bowl in his hand.

'You know I don't need that.' She said, as he slid it through to her.

'I know. But gives me an excuse to come and see you. Don't think old Vesemir wants any of us down here with you, but even he wouldn't deny a prisoner food.' He winked at her, she grinned back. Taking the bowl she eyed the witcher through the bars of her cell for a moment.

'How is he?' Eskel didn't need to ask who she was referring to. He scratched the back of his head, his expression uneasy.

'You know Lambert. He's surly and bitter as normal. Vesemir's got him seeing to the eastern wall repair to distract him, but he's already called Geralt a prick three times and told Vesemir to jump off a cliff so…not good.'

Ellie looked down at the bowl filled with a mushy white substance that looked similar to porridge, her brow furrowing. 'He shouldn't have spoken out like that. I don't want to cause him anymore trouble.'

'El.' She looked up at the serious note in Eskel's voice. He was staring at her through the bars, his face half lit by the torch he had brought down with him. It cast his scars into deep shadows, giving the gentle witcher an oddly sinister appearance. 'He doesn't need your guilt. He just needs you to be honest.'

The thread in her gut gave a sharp tug at his words, and she felt herself grimace as Eskel gave her a frank look. 'I know you've said you're not hiding anything, but there's a lot we don't know about you and what Triss and Yen are planning, well…let's just say there won't be anywhere for you to hide your skeletons.' He placed the torch in the sconce and folded his arms. 'Lambert isn't one to show his feelings, but there's something between you two that even a shaelmaar could see. All I ask is that you treat my brother with respect and don't play him for a fool. Because he isn't one…as much as he tries to convince us otherwise.'

A heavy weight had formed in Ellie's chest as he spoke. As if his words where pushing down on her with every syllable. Once he had finished he gave her an equally heavy stare, then his expression softened. 'Sorry again about the living arrangements. I'll see if I can sneak down after supper. You be okay until then?'

'Sure.' Ellie said. A smile on her face but her voice quiet. Eskel gave her one last half-hearted grin before disappearing from view, back up the stairs. Plonking herself back down on her stinking bed of straw, Ellie put her head in her hands. Eskel's words had struck deeper than even he probably knew. Yes, she had been honest whenever Lambert or the others asked a question but she had never been forthcoming with the details. Always skirting around, afraid if they looked too closely they'd see something they didn't like and turn on her. Now she was sat in keep in the mountains, unable to open a doorway home and about to be subjected to an invasive mind probe that would splash all of her deepest darkest memories out in the open for all to see. As she waited for her next visit she sat in quiet misery, letting the rats mill around her hunched form, wishing she had told him more. Wishing she hadn't been such a coward.

An indeterminate amount of hours passed before she smelt someone approaching from above. Her nostrils flared and her head snapped up as instead of the faint waft of rosemary that she'd been expecting, she caught the sharp tang of cinnamon on the air. His footsteps were deliberately quiet and for a moment Ellie was worried something was wrong. Then his familiar figure came into view, his face half hidden in shadow due to the now low burning torch. His expression was guarded, but there was the barest hint of a smug smile on his face as his eyes locked onto her. He lifted a finger to his lips and mimed for her to stay quiet, it was then she realised his light footsteps had been to conceal his presence.

Without thinking Ellie rose to her feet and moved towards the bars, her own feet making barely a whisper of sound across the straw covered stones. Moving next to the bars, she leant in to better see his face. Lambert mimicked her, moving right up to the cell and leaning down a little so they were only inches apart.

'How you doin' Blue eyes?' He asked in a low voice. A swell of warmth blossomed in her chest where Eskel's weight had been.

'Been better.' She joked, giving him a lopsided grin. His mouth twitched up at the corner. 'I thought you weren't allowed to see me?'

'I'm not, but the old bastard isn't as observant as he'd like to think. I have about ten minutes before he realises I'm not lugging stone anymore.' There was an awkward pause as they both looked at each other. Ellie reached out a hand and flicked one of the dimeritium bars, it let out a dull metallic ring.

'Are you going to tell them this stuff has no effect on me, or shall I?' Lambert let out a snort, his mouth now twisting up into a grin. Ellie's stomach did a small somersault at the sight.

'How about we keep that between us for now?' She nodded and they lapsed back into silence. Ellie found herself stuck for words. After their dramatic arrival to the keep and Eskel's unexpectedly serious talk she couldn't quite look the witcher full in the face, but she could feel his eyes searing into her.

'You didn't have to do that you know. I don't want you to get in trouble with your mentor.'

'He's not my mentor.' Lambert said sharply. 'And I made you a promise.' She looked up at his suddenly stern tone. The barely concealed anger he always seemed to carry around flashing in his amber eyes. As she stared at him, her brow furrowing in concern, the anger subsided. 'They're dickheads anyway, not like this is out of character for me.'

'Eskel's okay.' She said in defence for the kindly witcher. Lambert's mouth thinned into a sour grimace.

'Yeah, saw you two were buddying up on the ride here.' Ellie raised an eyebrow at him.

'Do I detect a hint of jealously there?'

Lambert turned his head away, his eyes narrowing. 'You detect shit Blue eyes. I'm just stating a fact.'

The silence fell between them again, this time it was heavy with tension as Ellie tried to figure out why he was even here. As she took in the surly witcher, Eskel's words came to mind again. 'Hey, I just remembered. I still owe you two questions.'

His eyes snapped back to her, his eyebrows lowered in confusion. 'Why you bringing that up now?'

She shrugged. 'I don't like to leave a debt unpaid. Plus, if I'm about to have my inner most thoughts broadcast for all to see I'd rather enlighten you on a few points first. It's the least I can do…'. She trailed off, the silence threatening to build again.

'Okay.' Lambert finally said. He shifted his stance, one hand reaching up to scratch at his chin as he thought. His eyes slowly came down to rest on her hand which was now gripping the bars between them. 'What is that glyph on your wrist?'

Ellie twisted her hand to reveal the symbol he was talking about. The slightly raised scar stood out in the flickering torchlight. It cast an orange glow on her skin, making it look like it had been freshly branded.

'This is the mark of the Gatekeepers. It means I'm an enforcer and guardian to the demon world.'

'Sounds serious. So, what? You protect demons?' Lambert's sharp gaze was zeroed in on her. It was the same look Eskel had given her whenever he asked her questions. It was the look of a predator sizing up its prey, and Ellie found she didn't enjoy Lambert using it.

'Not exactly. If anything, I protect everyone else from demons. Not all demons are good, just like not all humans are. Some like to cause trouble.'

Lambert scratched his chin again. 'Why do I feel you're still holding out on me?'

Ellie sighed, leaning her head on the cold bars. 'It's hard to explain. Most people only hear about the bad ones, they're the ones that make unbreakable pacts, meddle in people's lives and more often than not end up killing them. You rarely hear about the demons that helped humans discover fire, or control the weather for their crops, or deliver their souls safely to the other side when they die.' She gave Lambert a hard look. 'That's because of us. We keep the demons at a safe distance. We stop the ones that get through and clean up any mess they leave behind. That's what this mark represents, it represents my purpose in all of this.'

Lambert took a step back, assessing the girl trapped in the cell before him. Ellie watched him fearfully. It was the most she had spoken about her kind or her home, she was waiting for him to finally agree with the old one they called Vesemir and proclaim her dangerous. Instead, he tilted his head to one side. Dawning realisation coming over his features.

'Is that why you're not allowed to kill?' Ellie nodded by way of reply and that dreaded silence began to build once more.

'I cannot kill anything with an untainted soul. It's against the law which binds me to Purgatory, the place where the demons live.' Ellie noticed that for all of their interactions so far Lambert had been a lot more subdued than she was used to. Usually he adopted a superior arrogance that permeated in everything he said, as if he knew everything already. It was the Lambert she had grown accustomed to on her journey here. This Lambert however, watched her with a neutral expression, his eyes searching and wary. It was only amplified by the hushed voices they were speaking in, his normally abrasive, snarky tone gone.

'Untainted? Fuck it all, Blue eyes. I don't think I have enough questions to answer everything going on with you. What's Purgatory? What makes a soul tainted? How did a human wind up in some freaky demon guard cult? You talk some bat shit crazy nonsense most of the time.' He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a long sigh as he did. 'There are a lot of things I don't know about in this world, let alone others. The more I get to know you, the more complicated this whole thing becomes. I just wanted to get you off my hands, now…'

He paused and in that beat of silence Ellie heard a thousand different meanings. His brow furrowed and she saw his mouth twist up slightly, as if he were in pain. 'You know Vesemir and Geralt don't trust you.'

She nodded, 'What about you?' Her voice was uncertain, unsure whether she wanted him to answer.

'I…I don't know. Honestly, sometimes I wish I'd never accepted that contract on your head. My life would be a lot simpler right now.'

His words were like a knife to the gut. Ellie had to grip onto the bars to stop from doubling over from the phantom pain. 'But a simple life was never on the cards for me anyway. And you're awfully fucking interesting.' She looked up at him again slowly, and almost gasped in relief at the half smile on his face. His amber eyes shining as he regarded her. 'So, I guess I trust you. Just…don't do anything stupid when the two witches do their thing okay? I don't think I can piss off Vesemir enough to distract him a second time.'

'I'll do my best.' She said, her voice barely more than a whisper. His smile grew and he turned to pass her something through the bars.

'Here. I figured you'd need this. This place is colder than a frost giant's anus.' Tentatively she took the woollen blanket he had pushed into the cell, her eyes prickling with tears from the kind act.

'I…'.

'Don't mention it Blue eyes. Thought of you freezing down here was keeping me up, and you know how I need my beauty sleep.' His smile morphed into his famous arrogant smirk and Ellie felt her own mouth turning up into a wide grin. She looked into his warm eyes, memorising the golden flecks scattered through the amber, and he likewise stared back at her. Her skin began to warm up and not from the blanket which she had yet to do more than hold.

After what felt like an age, Lambert cleared his throat and made to leave. 'I won't be able to come down again. So, I'll see you for this ritual thing.' His voice was suddenly strained as if he was holding something back. He took a few steps away, keeping his gaze averted to the floor. Ellie pushed herself up against the bars, so she could see him better.

'Lambert.' She called in a hushed voice. He paused, his back to her but she knew he was listening. 'Thank you. For everything.' She finally said.

His shoulders seemed to sag at the words, then without responding he continued on up the stairs, disappearing into the dark.

Ellie watched the space where he had been for a few moments longer, then resumed her position at the back of the cell. She wrapped the blanket he had brought her around her shoulders, the soft fabric saturated with his cinnamon scent. Taking a deep breath, she drank it in. Letting it warm her from the inside as well as out.

His unexpected visit had lifted her spirits; he hadn't run from her or treated her with disdain. He'd been worried about her. Asking how she was and bringing a small comfort to help her. Despite this, the heavy weight that he had lifted temporarily began to push down on her again. Time and again she'd had everyone that mattered ripped away from her, now it was just easier to keep her distance. But she'd found that particular rule hard to keep with Lambert. No matter his obnoxious, at times, attitude and unorthodox way of talking, she just found herself drawn towards him. Like a magnet to an opposing pole.

As she sat thinking on all the events that had brought her to this place, she pondered the most on their strange relationship. They had started out as captor and prisoner, a volatile and tenuous partnership, but as the miles had passed beneath them and the days turned into weeks, those roles had become blurred and muddied. Turning the nameless something between them into a worrying, undefined bond.

Three days passed; or at least three further visits from Eskel came and went. He had managed to keep up the pretence of needing to feed her, and even though she enjoyed his brief, cheerful company, it was always with a slightly heavy heart that she smelt his familiar scent of rosemary approaching and not the warming tang of cinnamon.

On the third day she looked up from her makeshift nest of rotting straw and Lambert's blanket that she had made to keep comfortable, as a new unfamiliar scent reached her nose. It was a confusing blend of cedar wood, sickly-sweet lilac and berries of some kind, and it took a moment to untangle the mess of smells. It was only as the sound of multiple footsteps descending the stairs reached her, that she deciphered the scents were not from one person but two. Seconds later, two very different silhouettes blocked out the dim lit from the new torch Eskel had brought her earlier that day.

'It's time demon.' Vesemir's weathered voice was easily attached to the broad shouldered, taller shadow before her but the slimmer one was unfamiliar to Ellie.

'Is this her? I was expecting something more…formidable.' This voice was smooth as silk and had a conceited edge to it. Ellie shifted from her nest and slowly rose to her feet, squinting against the torchlight. She could just make out a stunningly beautiful woman next to Vesemir, her perfect features framed by bountiful waves of jet-black hair. Her expression wasn't unfriendly but it held a condescending air about it, as if she were looking down at the girl in the cell.

Taking a step towards her visitors, Ellie gave the stranger a knowing smile. 'So, are you the one here to probe my deepest thoughts? I was expecting someone more…intimidating.' She said, her tone jovial.

The beautiful woman looked taken aback for a moment before glancing at Vesemir and erupting into high peals of laughter. 'Quite the tongue on her. I was wondering how a demon had managed to win over Lambert, now I know.' She gave Ellie an appraising look as the old witcher let out a world-weary sigh.

'If you're done exchanging pleasantries Yennefer, I'd like to proceed with this. You and Triss have taken enough of our time and keep preparing, I'd like both back.'

Now she was closer to the bars Ellie could see the woman's face in more refined detail. It had an ethereal, flawless beauty about it. Perfect almond shaped eyes, a cupid bow mouth and high cheekbones, all framed by that glossy black hair. She had an hourglass figure which was covered in an elaborate bodice and flowing skirt that was all black and white. But like so many of the people she had met in this world, it was the woman's eyes that drew the most attention. They were a vivid violet colour, and they seemed to shimmer as they took in Ellie's dishevelled appearance. Rarely did she care about the way she was perceived by others, but next to this unflawed human, Ellie suddenly felt woefully presented.

'Hold out your hands demon.' Vesemir said, his tone abrupt and irritable. Yennefer gave him a tired look, her violet eyes rolling.

Not wanting to ruin her chances any more than she already had, Ellie obediently held out her hands. If nothing else she would be grateful for the change of scenery. Vesemir reached through the bars and secured a very familiar looking pair of shackles onto her wrist. They were identical to the ones Lambert had kept her in at the start of their journey.

With a grunt of satisfaction, the old witcher withdrew his hands and unlocked the cell, the door swinging open with a grating sound. With a jerk of his head Vesemir signalled for Ellie to walk out. Yennefer gave her a lingering look before stepping to one side to allow her through, positioning herself so she was between Ellie and the stairs to freedom.

'Shall we?' She asked pleasantly. Giving Vesemir a sarcastic smile before turning elegantly on her high heeled boots and walking to the stairs.

'Don't try anything.' Vesemir said, leaning into Ellie as he gave her a forceful push in the direction Yennefer had gone. Catching herself easily, she began to walk slowly out of the prison, flanked by the strange woman and old witcher. It was in this order that she arrived back in the main hall of the keep. Bright sunlight streamed in through the high arched windows, casting the grey stone walls and raised buttresses in a completely different light to when she had entered a few days previous.

Now she could see the amount of clutter filling the hall clearly. Great piles of books and furniture, some in varying stages of decay. The area near the gigantic fireplace was still the clearest, with a large bench and table set up for meals. Against the far wall under another set of windows was a row of simple beds, all unmade and crumpled from use. Yennefer led her through a gap between two towering bookcases filled with vials and other containers. Some were empty but others were filled with bright coloured liquids. Ellie had never seen Lambert's potions but she guessed this was probably what they looked like. There were however, some familiar looking round objects on the shelf and as she passed she recognised them as the bombs he used when fighting.

Her eyes darted over the veritable Aladdin's cave of magical items as she was led to another open space that had been cleared in the hall. The focal point of this area was not a homely looking dining table, but rather a table of another design. The closest thing she could liken it to was something out of a Victorian mental asylum. This table was made of metal not wood and definitely didn't look like it was for eating at. It was raised to about waist height and had an elaborate metal frame around its edge. There was what looked like a stand of some kind near the head of it, made to hold something. It was rusted with age and stained with something dark and red that Ellie didn't really want to think about. But the worst feature of the table, the thing that sent a shiver of apprehension running down her spine, was the thick metal shackles built into the sides and base of it. She wasn't sure what the function of this table was but it didn't take much to imagine it was largely made to keep someone tied down as unspeakable things were done to them.

Gathered around the horrific contraption were the rest of the witchers along with the red-haired woman they called Triss. Her and Geralt were stood closest together, he with his arms folded, a stern look on his face as Yennefer and Vesemir came to a halt either side of her. Next to them, a few feet off was Eskel. He didn't look as hostile as Geralt, but his expression was guarded as he glanced at her. His gaze quickly flashing away as if struggling to meet her eyes.

Finally, her attention shifted to the last person in the room. Stood a significant distance from the others, his arms crossed, his posture tense. Lambert was looking at the others gathered around the torture device. Slowly his head moved to take in the newcomers to this odd gathering, first looking at Yennefer, then Vesemir. Ellie felt all her muscles clench instinctually. Lambert looked the angriest she had ever seen him. There was a tight jaw fury in his expression that belayed his dark mood, but it was his eyes that made her want to reach out and attempt to calm him.

They were wide and wild with a bright fire that seemed to grow as he looked at the old witcher stood next to her. She could just make out, tucked against his chest, his balled fists. The knuckles on each hand bone white. The longer she looked at him the more she saw; he was shaking, ever so slightly. She stared back at him, her own horror at his reaction mirrored in his eyes. He wasn't just angry, he was scared.

Before she could ask what was wrong Vesemir took a step forward, commanding the attention of the group. 'Triss, is everything prepared?'

The red headed woman nodded solemnly. Flicking a glance at Yennefer. 'We're as ready as we'll ever be, now let's get on with this.'

Vesemir gave the dark-haired woman next to her a disapproving look and for a brief moment Ellie saw Geralt shake his head in exasperation. If she made it through this she would have to ask Lambert what was going on with all these beautiful women and Geralt. It seemed like an interesting tale.

The old witcher took hold of her shackles and pulled her towards the metal table. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lambert take in a sharp breath as Vesemir directed her to lie down on it. Now that she was next to it she could smell the scent of blood and misery emanating off of it. There was a moment of hesitation, where Ellie wondered if running might be her best bet. Alone she would find things difficult, but not impossible, and faced with the prospect of being strapped to this horrendous thing the idea of making a run for it was very tempting.

'There has to be another way.' Lambert's voice cut through the relative silence of the room. All eyes shifted to him. The witcher, who's mannerism and personality she had become so accustomed to, stood changed before her. He looked wild with fear and desperation, but his voice was sharp with anger as he spoke.

Beside her Yennefer shook her head. 'She needs to be restrained during the process. Find me a better implement to do that and I'll gladly change the plan. But as it stands this is the best for the purpose.'

Lambert's mouth twisted into a snarl as he rounded on Vesemir. 'I accept you need to do this, but not on that.' He jabbed a finger towards the table, his eyes flashing dangerously.

'We use it Lambert. The demon has to be contained during the ritual.' His voice held no room for argument, and even before Lambert could offer any more protest he turned to Ellie, motioning for her to get on. Casting a pleading look back at Lambert, hoping to stop him from causing trouble, she complied. Resigning herself to whatever it was these people wanted to do. Running would be the easy way out, but when had the easy way out ever led to something better?

Lying across the table, the first thing Ellie noticed was the cold. It was several degrees lower than the rest of the keep. It was closer to lying on a slab of ice than a piece of metal. The next thing she noticed was the overwhelming stench of death that came off it. Her previous assessment that it smelt like blood and misery were now amplified, as if the table was storing all the souls it had claimed and only now she was touching it could she sense them.

Vesemir removed the shackles from her wrists and snapped the metal cuffs welded to the table in their place. She complied obediently, letting him move her arms and legs into position. Instantly an intense feeling of dread came over her. Her feet and hands now bound to the table, Vesemir stepped back allowing Triss and Yennefer to move up to her. The red head hovered her hands over Ellie's prone form, her expression uneasy.

'This will hurt less if you don't struggle.' She said. Ellie looked up into her green eyes and saw no malice, only a resolute concentration. Yennefer by contrast gave her a cold smile, her violet eyes holding no trace of sympathy, only intense interest.

'If you're ready dear, we'll begin.' From her hands there was a flash of purple light and abruptly Ellie's ears were filled with a piercing ringing. It was more intense than any of the times she had heard it before, and she reflexively tried to cover her ears but was stopped by the solid metal restraints on her wrists.

Both women began to mutter under their breath, some unknown language that sounded like gibberish to her. The purple glow grew from Yennefer's hands until it surrounded her body, Triss moved up to the head of the table and placed both of her hands by Ellie's temples. The ringing increased in volume until she felt like her head would explode from the pressure building inside it. Just when she thought it was about to happen, she glanced past Yennefer and caught a glimpse of Lambert.

He was stood, still apart from his brothers, his face a mask of undiluted fear. His eyes locked onto hers. She tried to force a smile of reassurance onto her face, wanting him not to worry, but the pain in her head turned it into more of a grimace. The ringing reached a peak where she thought she could take no more, then something wet and warm spread out from the place where Triss had touched her fingertips to the side of her head. The horrific noise inside her head stopped suddenly.

She felt weightless and heavy all at the same time, a blue fog beginning to close in on her vision. She kept her gaze fixed on Lambert, so his tortured amber eyes were the last thing she saw before the fog took over. The ritual had begun.