A/N: Hello all, been struggling with writer's block for a bit, so not as far ahead as I would like. I am doing my best to catch up though, so hopefully this won't disrupt your weekly scheduled programming. Getting near the end of this part and what a doozy it's been. Hope you're all still enjoying and I'll see you in another week. As always, read, review and enjoy! :)

Chapter 27

Gaunter O'Dimm sat cross-legged on the table, the patrons of the inn flitting around him like insignificant insects. He stared narrow eyed, and impatient at the door, waiting for his puppet to return with the news he already knew. Idly twirling a wooden spoon between deft fingers. It really was impossibly hard being him. Having to slow to the speed of these idiotic creatures day in day out. Having to rely on cheap tricks and bargains to get by. It really was below him, he should be a ruler by now…he was born to be one.

His temper spiked as the door to the grotty inn burst open and his puppet walked in looking unapologetic and, would you believe it, angry. His freakish cat eyes roamed the place before landing on Gaunter. The demon recoiled slightly at the blatant stare, but kept his expression neutral. No need to show these sheep how much the wolf despised them.

The witcher walked through the crowded bar, a noticeable limp to his steps, until he was in front of the nonchalant looking man. His eyes flicked down briefly to the spoon Gaunter was still flourishing and fidgeting with, then they returned to his inconspicuous face.

'I can only assume by your solitary state, that you didn't succeed in my little task.' O'Dimm said in his lyrical voice. A shiver of fear passed through the witcher, and he couldn't help smiling benevolently at the delicious reaction to his words.

'She was everything you said she was, but those other witchers…they were helping her.'

The demon tilted his head to one side, surveying his puppet with hard eyes. 'You had more than enough help to take on that stray pack of wolves. I even gave you a Kingslayer to bolster your ranks, why didn't you just slaughter them all?'

The witcher suddenly looked livid, his hell fire eyes flickering with hate as he looked at him. That would never do. 'Witchers don't tend to kill other witchers. Besides, that so called Kingslayer you gave me, he helped the demon at the last minute.'

Gaunter regarded him for a moment, then laughed loud and long. 'Did he now? Will wonders never cease?' He extended his finger and balanced the spoon on it. 'Is she still with them?'

'Yes. I-I made a deal with her. If she won I was to leave them alone. After the fight I was…compelled to obey her.' Gaunter's expression darkened as he whipped his hand from under the spoon, grabbing it in mid-air and smacking it harshly across the witcher's face.

'Of course, you were. That's what happens when you make deals like that. Haven't you learnt?' He used the spoon to slide back the fabric covering his own mark, placed on the pale skin of the witcher's shoulder. 'She saw this, didn't she?'

The witcher turned a milky white except for the circle of red where he had been struck, and nodded slowly. Gaunter smiled warmly, withdrawing the spoon.

'Good. I hate arriving unannounced.' He twirled the spoon in his hand once more, his smile morphing into a grin. The witcher swallowed nervously.

'What about me?' He asked.

O'Dimm tilted his head again. 'What about you?' He said.

'Am I free now? I can't go back and I did go to the keep like you asked.' The spoon stopped spinning abruptly as Gaunter grasped it in an iron grip.

'You failed to complete the contract. So, by the law of the land I owe you nothing.' The witcher opened his mouth to speak but the demon rested the handle of the spoon against his lips to silence him. 'And by the law of my land you owe me everything. The deal is done.' He said, his voice lowering several octaves into a frightful boom. Before the witcher could react, Gaunter grabbed the back of his neck with one hand and with the other drove the blunt end of the spoon straight through one of his freakish eyes. There was a squelching pop as the eyeball burst and a satisfying crunch as it pierced his skull, skewering his brain in the process. The puppet's body went limp in Gaunter's hand and he closed his eyes as the softly glowing light detached itself from its dead host and drifted up into the noisy inn.

Removing the spoon with a messy splat, Gaunter quickly caught the escaping soul on the bowl end of it. Then, with no ceremony or suspense, he lifted the utensil to his mouth and swallowed the glowing light whole. He savoured the taste of it for a moment, so rare he got to devour a good soul nowadays, and witchers were so much more delectable than ordinary humans. Running a wet tongue over his lips he sighed, twirling the blood-stained spoon in his hand again.

'If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself.' He murmured to no one in particular. Hopping down off the table he sauntered out of the inn, humming a tune that he'd heard some children singing once. No one looked at the ordinary looking man as he passed by. Their chatter and drinking continuing uninterrupted. Oblivious to the one-eyed corpse now lying under a table in the corner.

The storm had died down as soon as their intruders had left the valley, but the same could not be said for the storm inside Ellie. She was a jagged ball of agitated nerves, on edge at the slightest shift in atmosphere or sound. This hadn't been helped by Lambert's still very open wound that needed tending to, and he had eventually told her to leave when she had snapped at Triss a few too many times whilst she attempted to heal him.

She felt like a glass too full of water. Vibrating with guilt and anger, about to crack and spill over at the slightest thing. The sight of the gaping, vicious looking wound in his side was seared into her brain. It looked like Gaetan had almost gutted Lambert with his sword and it made her stomach churn with hatred as she tried to expel her pent-up energy, striding aimlessly around the keep. Eskel and Vesemir were checking defences in the wall, Yennefer was similarly checking the magical barriers she had put up around the place. So, it was unsurprising when Ellie found herself alone with Geralt in the main hall, once her feet guided her there.

He was leaning against the fireplace, a haunted look in his eyes that had been there since seeing Gaetan's other mark. After the fight and revelation of who was behind the contract on her, Geralt had disappeared into the bowels of Kaer Morhen and hadn't resurfaced for a long time. The others had found this behaviour odd and frustrating, wanting to gather as much information about their hidden enemy but Ellie saw it differently. From what little he had told her of the demon he had previously encountered, coupled with his aversion and mistrust towards her at the start, she sensed this was a dangerous entity.

She walked over to the white haired witcher and stared into the coiling flames with him. Silence gathered between them, but it wasn't the uncomfortable, tense silence she had shared with Geralt in the past. There was a camaraderie to it, as if their shared knowledge of what was coming made them a united front.

'Do you think he'll come here?' She eventually asked. Geralt didn't turn away from the fire, his face tattooed with bright orange and reds, like war paint.

'Maybe. He preferred to get others to do his dirty work though.'

'Preferred?' He turned is head slightly to stare at her with one amber eye.

'Prefers. I did hope he'd been lying when he said he couldn't be killed, but I suppose that was a naïve hope when the evidence of it is stood right in front of me.' Ellie's mouth pulled into a thin line. Invulnerability wasn't a common demon trait; in fact, as far as she knew she was the only one that possessed that unique ability. Most other demons could be injured, maimed, even killed with enough trauma, the only exception to this rule would be higher demons, and she only knew one of them. The one that had made her.

She stared down into the fire, deep in thought, and Geralt being the social pariah he was didn't press her to answer. 'We know he's after me, so I should go. The pass is clear now. Shouldn't be a problem for me.'

'Not a problem for you, but it'll certainly be a problem for someone.' Geralt gave her a sidelong look, his eyebrow raised suggestively. Right on cue the sound of unsteady footsteps echoed across the stone floor towards them.

'I've been searching all over for you.' Lambert's voice rang out, an edge of desperation colouring the annoyance in it.

Turning, Ellie saw him limping over to them, his brow knitted together in a pained expression. 'What are you doing? You should be resting.' She scolded.

'I'm done resting. Merigold's fucked with me enough, and I wanted to make sure you weren't doing anything stupid.'

Ellie frowned at him. 'Like what?'

'Like planning to leave Kaer Morhen on your own.' She looked at Geralt sharply. He gave her an impassive stare back.

'You fucking what?' Lambert snapped. Ellie sighed and gave the white haired witcher a disappointed look. He shrugged.

'I'd rather not have a dangerous demon coming to the keep in search of me. Better I lure him away where he can cause less trouble.' Lambert's expression darkened before he grabbed her wrist and pulled on it harshly.

'Come with me. Now.' She tried to protest but Lambert's grip was so tight she could feel him shaking against her skin. There was something in that simple sign of emotion that made her keep her mouth shut. She shot Geralt a glance as she let the younger witcher drag her away. His face said nothing but his eyes still looked haunted and troubled.

Lambert wordlessly towed her up several flights of stairs, taking a route she had never seen before. They passed through corridors and empty rooms, weaving further into the keep than she had ever gone. Finally, he slowed to a standstill in a narrow hallway with a dead end filled with dusty crates. It was clear no one came to this part of the keep much, if at all. Lambert rounded on her, stepping right up into her space so she had to back away to see him clearly. Her thighs knocked against one of the crates, Lambert closed the distance so he towered over her, blocking her escape back down the corridor.

'What the fuck are you doing Blue eyes?' He asked.

'Nothing.' She replied with a squeak. Her eyes flicking to his side which was covered by his black shirt.

'Bullshit. Geralt ratted you out, you were planning on disappearing again.'

Ellie winced. She didn't want to hurt him but at the same time she didn't like seeing him hurt. The anger and fear she had felt watching his blood soak into the wet mud had nearly driven her insane. She couldn't risk losing control like that again. 'It's better if I confront him alone. I don't want any of you dying because of me, especially…'. She paused, unable to finish that sentence. Lambert's glowered at her, his lip curling slightly at the corner.

'And what about me? That whoreson nearly got you out there. He would have carved you up and taken you in pieces to this demon bastard. Don't you think I hated seeing your blood everywhere, thinking that I had almost caused…'. He cut off with a strange strangled sound and Ellie felt her breath catch. His eyes were gleaming with something wet in the dim light. His mouth open as he stared down at her, breathing heavily.

'Fuck it all Ellie.' He said in a gasp, leaning forward and grabbing her roughly. His mouth was hot and frantic against hers. His fingers threaded into her hair, gripped it and pulled her head back so he could assault her neck. Ellie felt a twinge of pain as she was forced into an uncomfortable position. The crate pressing into her thighs, her hands lying flat on it to offer her some kind of balance. Lambert's teeth sank into her neck and she let out a shocked hiss, his burning tongue swiping over it leaving her knees weak.

His body was crushed against hers, and she could feel his heart thundering through his cotton shirt. That subtle shiver was still running through him, the echo of fear reverberating into the way he held her roughly and ravaged her with his mouth. The crate she was leaning on rocked against the wall noisily as he tried to get even closer to her. Before she could adjust her balance, he grabbed her thighs and hoisted her onto the crate, positioning himself between her legs. He let out a grunt of pain at the movement and she instinctually tried to shove him away to get a look at his wound.

'Careful.' She said. Lambert let out a growl against her mouth.

'Don't tell me to be careful.' His hands began undoing her trousers and Ellie suddenly found herself unwilling to argue with him anymore. She let him take out his pent-up anger, frustration and fear on her. He wasn't gentle, but neither was she. Her own terror at seeing him injured and the looming shadow of a storm brewing around them fuelling her passion. He fucked her, against the crate in an abandoned corner of the keep, and afterwards they stayed sagged against each other; breathing in their intermingled scents.

Ellie closed her eyes as she leant into Lambert's shoulder, the fabric of his shirt rubbing against her still warm cheek. She clung to him, partly because she was still balanced on the crate, her trousers now bundled around her ankles, but also because she felt adrift. Like the only thing keeping her in place was the solid mass of his body. She could have stayed in his arms, the post coital glow seeping through her bones, for the rest of eternity.

'Where is this place?' She asked in a stupor. Lambert shifted against her.

'It's near my old room. Just a storage area now though.' He answered lazily. Ellie's face lit up with excitement.

'Show me. Please.' She begged. He let out a quiet sigh, barely more than a breath.

'I can never say no to you Blue eyes.' He said, reluctantly releasing her. Hopping down off the crate, she awkwardly righted herself, pulling up her leather trousers. Lambert shot her a languid smirk as he watched, then offered his hand when she was done. He led her a little way back up the corridor, skirting around the many crates. Stopping next to a large stack of them he let go of her to shift them easily to one side.

With the crates removed she could now see a door set into the wall. It was identical to the hundreds of others she had seen in the keep, especially in the dorm area, but there was something intriguing about this one. Behind this unassuming oak and iron banded door was where young Lambert had grown up. The simplistic excitement of seeing her lovers private space made her giddy, and she jogged on the spot as he raised an eyebrow at her.

'There's nothing outrageous in there. Just dust and old memories. Sure you want to see?'

She bobbed her head furiously in response, a grin plastered across her face. Lambert smiled at her childish reaction, then slowly leant forward to open the door. It creaked loudly as it swung open, the room inside completely dark. The stale air inside hit them like a wall; dust and decay the dominate smells, but she could still make out the faintest trace of spice under it. An echo of who the room belonged to. Lambert walked in and lit a sconce on one wall, revealing the small bed chamber in all its mundane glory.

A single bed was set against the far wall, still made but unslept in for many decades. To the left, a set of chest high shelves, rammed with a cluttered mess of books, potion bottles and what looked like deconstructed bombs. On the other there was no furniture but an alarming boulder grey head, with ugly protruding teeth and beady eyes fixed in a grotesque expression was poking out of the stonework.

Ellie flinched back instinctually and Lambert chuckled. 'Don't worry. It's been dead a long time.'

Looking at it again she noticed the head was haloed by a piece of wood. It was a trophy. 'What is it?' She asked, walking over to touch the rough skin of the creature.

'It was a rock troll.' Lambert replied, idly flipping through a book he had picked up. 'It was my first kill.' He glanced up as she pulled a sour face, he snapped the book shut in one hand. 'Don't look at me like that. It was what I was trained to do, besides, they can be nasty whoresons when they want to be. Although don't say that to Geralt.'

He placed the book back and sauntered over to her, crossing his arms as he stared up at the dead troll head.

'Would you have mounted my head like that?' She asked.

He looked at her sharply. 'Of course I not, what do you take-' He stopped as he saw the rye smirk on her face. 'Are you fucking with me?'

Her grin widened. 'Yeah, I kinda' am.'

His eyes flashed with something dark and he deliberately unfolded his arms. 'Think you're funny?'

Ellie felt a thrill of adrenaline shoot through her at his predatory expression, and she began to back up, the grin still broad on her face. 'Yeah, I do.'

'Hmm.' Lambert intoned, right before he launched himself at her. She let out a squeal of outrage as he picked her up and flung her easily over his shoulder. Despite his strength she noticed him dip slightly, as his wound caused him discomfort. Not wanting to nag him again but conscious of his pain, Ellie stayed obediently still as he carried her over to the bed. He dumped her on it, a cloud of dust billowing up around her.

'Really? Right here, on your dirty sheets in front of that guy?' She whined, flicking an accusatory finger towards the troll who was now leering at them from its perch on the wall.

'Shut it demon.' He growled, waving a hand dismissively in the air to extinguish the sconce he had lit with magic. She laughed loudly as he crawled over her and pretty soon forgot all about the dusty bed and their disconcerting audience.

Lambert was fast asleep next to her. His deep, rhythmic breathing was the only sound in their quiet corner of the keep. Ellie was squashed next to him on the small bed, sat up against the wall, her fingers idly combing through his hair. It was all very peaceful after the tumultuous week she'd had, and she let her mind empty as she sat next to her witcher.

There was no window in Lambert's old room so she had no idea how long they had been up here, or what time of day it was now. They were so far in the bowels of Kaer Morhen that she couldn't make out the others, by smell or sound. It truly felt like it was only them, suspended in time and space, isolated from the rest of the world.

Lambert shifted slightly in his sleep, letting out a huff as he turned. Ellie stared down at his face in the dark and watched as he pouted, then slid his arm over her waist. 'Hmm.' He groaned, his arm tightening around her. 'Soft.'

She chuckled quietly. 'Cheeky.'

His mouth twitched up in the ghost of a smile and he mumbled again in his sleep. 'Stay with me Ellie. Don't ever leave.'

A fissure of pain appeared inside her as she stared down at his sleep relaxed face. Suddenly the peace of the moment was gone and she felt an overwhelming sense of panic and guilt. Panic about the impending danger heading their way, and guilt for the amount of time she had been away from her own world, and how little she had thought about her friends and comrades. She certainly wouldn't say she was as close to her fellow gatekeepers as the witchers were, she didn't think of them like siblings. However, she still cared about them, and she had vanished without a word. What kind of a leader did that?

She needed to get some air. Her head was swirling and she didn't want to trouble Lambert with her internal crisis. Let him dream a bit longer, lengthen the time she would have to refuse his request to stay. The fissure widened, sending another hot lance of pain through her chest. Silently she padded across the room, pulling on her clothes as she did, and slipped out through the door, closing it with a soft click behind her.

Walking briskly, she retraced their steps, only getting lost twice along the way. She wasn't running like the times before, this felt more methodical. They had talked about her joining him on the Path but he had never outright asked her to stay in this world with him. There had always been an unspoken acceptance that this was temporary, however painful that may be for them both. Reaching the main hall, she sensed Geralt and Eskel were nearby. Not wanting anymore awkward encounters, she slipped quietly out and scaled the eastern wall in a few bounds.

The forest had become more familiar to her over the past week, and as she walked between the trees she felt her head clearing. The confusing haze Lambert had cast over it blowing away in the cold breeze. The whole valley was balanced on the precipice between winter and spring. The stinging cold mingling with the fresh smell of new growth. It sent electricity through her veins and she took in a deep breath as she moved away from the keep.

She wasn't heading anywhere in particular, but after a while she found herself deep in the forest nestled in the valley, the rushing river that fed and ran from the lake roaring nearby. Slowing to a stop she listened, the pounding water a comfort, drowning out her racing thoughts. She drew in a long breath, smelling the earth, the sharp scent of pine needles, the traces of the beasts and monsters that called the valley home. Pushing her way through the undergrowth towards the river, she found a large boulder jutting out into the iron grey water. Foam gathered around the rock, the river frothing and snarling like a wild animal.

Ellie perched on the boulder, staring into the churning water. She had fallen in love with this strange and intriguing world and its people. It felt so far removed from the modern world she knew, the normality of monsters simultaneously refreshing and odd. Her eyes drifted to her wrist which was resting on her knees. Turning it over she examined the raised brand burnt into her skin. For far longer than she could remember the mark had defined her, set her apart as different. In a way it was like the witchers and their cat eyes. Being a gatekeeper had been all she'd known, the demons she had managed to form relationships with her only company, could she give it all up. She sat, deep in thought, surrounded by the rushing river. Her mind flip-flopping between her duties and her heart. She might have stayed there for days if it wasn't for the unexpected arrival.

Despite it being still quite brisk at this time of year, Ellie found herself more than comfortable in just her borrowed shirt, rolled up to the elbow. So, she knew it wasn't the cold that caused her skin to the prickle like a cold finger had run across it, nor was it the wind that made the gossamer fine hairs on her arm stand completely on end. Her stomach rolled with sudden nausea as the familiar sensation passed through her body in an instant. Her senses were now on red alert as she froze, the demon her early warning system had located approaching her from behind.

'Do you know how much trouble you've caused me? Quite impressive for a halfbreed.' The strong smell of sulphur stung her nose, and she felt her spine straighten at the rough, yet slightly lyrical voice.

'Finally decided to show your face?' She replied. There was a low chuckle a little closer behind her.

'I tend to not get too hands on with my business, but sometimes it necessary. Especially when these humans are so incompetent.' Slowly, Ellie turned to look over her shoulder at the disembodied voice.

An average looking man, with close cropped hair, a wide mouth surrounded by stubble and a hooked nose stood on the bank of the river. He was wearing a simple, brown tunic, similar to a lot of the farmhands and villagers she had seen on her travels with Lambert. In fact, with his unassuming features and rustic clothing it would have been hard to pick him out from amongst a crowd. The only part of him that demanded any interest were his eyes; set under a dark brow, they exuded an intelligence and cunning that shouldn't be reckoned with. It was hard to tell what kind of demon he was, but at a guess based on his current appearance a Jinn seemed like the closest option.

Ellie swung her legs round so she was facing the demon completely. He smiled benevolently at her, his arms clasped harmlessly in front of him. She didn't trust it an inch.

'You're Gaunter O'Dimm?' His wide mouth widened.

'Ahh, I see young Geralt has been talking about me. Good to know I left such an…impression.' He took a few steps forward so he was right at the precipice of the bank, looking down at the thundering, rain swollen river.

'So, what do you want?' Ellie said, her eyes narrowed as she watched him cautiously. Gaunter turned his head to look at her slowly, then the smile dropped, his expression darkening to something far more dangerous.

'It's so hard to think over this racket.' He snapped. Then abruptly, the thundering stopped. Deafening silence filled the forest and Ellie looked around in alarm, convinced he had teleported them somewhere. But what she saw was far more disturbing.

The river was still there, along with the trees and the boulder she had chosen for her seat. However, where once she had been surrounded by violently tossed waves and foaming currents now there was only stillness. The river, frozen in mid flow, its iron coloured waters suspended in the midst of their journey down the valley. The leaves as well, were motionless. The wind that had rustled and shook them seconds ago now gone. There was nothing. Only silence and Gaunter, now smiling up at her again in a sickening fashion.

'There, much better.' He drawled, and with a start Ellie realised he had been the cause. A cold stone of dread settled itself in her gut, and she swallowed dryly as it became apparent that he was far more than she had originally presumed. No ordinary Jinn could stop time. In fact, there was only one type of demon that had that level of power.

Gaunter's grin turned nasty, his eyes glowing with deep satisfaction, as if he knew what she was thinking. He steepled his fingers together, raising them to rest his chin on them as he surveyed her with wicked glee. 'Now my dear, let's make a deal.'