They trained for what felt like forever. Ciri liked it, she liked using her powers, challenging herself. But it was also draining. It did not come as effortlessly as her jumping through worlds.
After they had spent a good thirty minutes of Avallac'h hurling objects her way with his own magic, with her having to deflect or destroy them without actually touching them, he let her take a break.
"Go drink some water. Eat. We will meet here again in a few hours."
He strode back to the castle, as elegantly and easily as though he had just been out enjoying fresh air.
Ciri didn't feel quite ready to go inside yet and leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes and let the sun warm her skin.
Griffin's croak greeted the two witchers when they rode into the outer yard and dismounted at the stables rack. Geralt stayed to groom the horses while Kain went further toward the inner yard on his way to the kitchen.
Ciri was standing in the inner courtyard looking tired.
"You look like you need to sit down," he said, climbing the stairs.
She opened her eyes when she heard Kain approach, watching him with a slight smile. "I will. In a bit. You got some time later?"
"I'm not exactly busy with anything around here," he said, spreading his arms. "I'm just a guest. You need my help with something?"
She removed the glove on her right hand and held up her burned palm for him to see. "Will you teach me how to heal myself?"
The burn looked nasty. "I never tried to teach anyone before, but I'll think of how to explain. If you fail, I'll heal you. You want to rest or do it now?"
"Ready when you are," she said. Ciri was a little tired but if she wanted Kain's help, she'd have to do it before Avallac'h demanded her attention again. "Would you like to go somewhere pretty?"
She turned to look at the mountains behind the castle before wriggling her still gloved hand in an inviting gesture. "It will only take a second."
Kain peered at her with doubt. "Think it's wise to use your 'jumping' power? There are horses out there."
"The Hunt already knows where to find me at the moment. And it is less tiring than riding. Or walking." She smiled, eyeing him with a slight impish expression. "You don't trust me to get you there safely?"
"It's not about trust. It's just a bit strange. And a bit disorienting."
Ciri arched a brow playfully. "Are you saying my magic is strange and disorientating?"
He gave her an impish squint. "It is - to anyone but you."
He held out his hand, nonetheless, for her to take.
"Fine. Go ahead, show it off."
Ciri grinned and took his hand in hers, not giving him any warning before they were gone. They arrived atop the mountain where the trees swayed gently in the wind, and despite the general cold of the season, the ground had warmed from the sun. Much better than Skellige.
She let him go and watched him. "Wasn't so bad, was it?"
He drew a deep breath, eyeing the sights around, then shrugged. "It's not bad - just strange."
He picked a sunny spot and settled, legs crossed.
"You ever healed anyone?"
"Once. Years and years ago," she said, following him and settling down opposite him.
"Good. How did you do it?"
Ciri frowned subtly, trying to remember. "Instinct more than anything, I suppose. There was a fire and I drew energy from it, I spoke in the Elder Speech, and my hand began to glow. I suppose my intention mattered more than my words. But it worked."
She did not tell him of the details. Of how the magic had made her feel, of the mingled pain and pleasure that had made her whole body vibrate. Nor did she want to tell him of what came after. Not the full, whole truth.
"What did you say in Elder Speech? And what did you feel during and after? All of that is important to gauge your abilities and how it works."
Ciri closed her eyes to try and remember. "Hail Fire! I wish you to be healed! That is my wish! Aid me, Fire!" She shrugged. "Primitive, I am sure. But I was young and had just started my magical training."
She fell silent, considering his next questions. They brought a pink flush to her cheeks.
"I felt powerful. Invincible. Aroused. And then… a little frightened."
Kain pondered this. "Fire doesn't usually heal - it's more of a destructive power. Water, however, is more suitable for such tasks. Your body - like everybody else's - has a lot of water in it. Seawater is earth's blood while yours is also salty.
"But you can also heal with your energy - and then it might drain you, depending on how bad the wound is.
"The best way is to call upon the forces you don't see but know are all around like air is, and use their aid to mend someone else. It takes practice. And some good feeling.
"See, the highest feeling is love. That's why people say that true love can break any curse. Same with healing: you need to find a bit of love inside you for the one you heal. Not the romantic kind - try to connect to divine love used to bring that someone to life in this world. Understand?"
"I think so." Whether or not Ciri would be able to pull it off was another question entirely. "So, if I want to heal this wound," she said, peeling off her glove again. "I should call on the aid of the element of air? Do you use words?"
"You can try whatever you want," Kain reasoned, casting an assessing gander on it. "But there is one more thing: if you can't really muster love - try a good feeling, an elating feeling, something akin to quiet euphoria.
"Remember one time you felt anything close to such, no matter the reason because you only need the memory of the feeling itself. And then close your eyes, focus and try to recreate that feeling inside you. Try to feel it as if you have a reason. Try to feel it and imagine your hand unblemished as it has been before the burn.
"It's like a meditation, you need to try until you make it."
"Alright." She closed her eyes at once because she wasn't sure she would be able to conjure memories while looking at his beautiful face.
Close to euphoria… Close to euphoria…
She had felt immensely happy on Skellige as a child. Especially in the company of Hjalmar. She'd been downright giddy when he proposed to her. Could that be the feeling she sought?
Ciri though on it and decided, no. It was a happy memory, certainly. But nothing close to euphoria.
What then? The first day the Witchers had started to train her? When she saw a light in the end of a long, dark tunnel?
Close. But not quite.
Geralt. The day he finally came. When he claimed her as his surprise child and took her with him. Ciri could still feel her stomach flutter with excited butterflies. And as she rode on his shoulders, she'd felt so high she thought for a moment she was flying.
That was the memory. That was the feeling. Perfect happiness. And perfect love.
Ciri held onto that feeling, savoring it while directing her attention to her aching hand.
Smooth, unblemished skin. Healthy and whole. No more pain.
She felt her magic stir.
Kain watched her work, watched the colors of magic dance around her when she tapped into something that made them brighter.
Ciri was not sure how long they had been sitting there. But it had to have been a long time. For when she finally felt she had nothing more to give and opened her eyes again, her butt was hurting from the hard ground beneath her.
She looked at her palm, examining it. It had healed. Somewhat. There was still a part of her skin that was pink and shiny. A healing scar. But the pain was gone. She'd take it.
She showed Kain, gaze inquisitive. "A decent start?"
She made the burn fade to a pink scar. It was certainly better than nothing.
Kain smiled. "Not bad. Maybe even better than my first attempt ever."
His smile was everything. It made her legs feel like jelly, even as she was sitting down, and those overexcited butterflies returned once more. She tried to shake herself from her stupor. "Yes. Only I doubt I will have much time to practice until after The Hunt is dealt with. I will have to let others do my healing for me. Or heal the old fashioned way. That's fine, too. What's a few more scars to the collection?"
He took her hand in his and covered her palm with his other, holding on to it for a moment before revealing a healed skin where her scar had been.
"You'll learn fast now that you know how."
She eyed her smooth, healed palm now he had finished working, smiling to herself. "You are amazing."
"I'm not so much doing the healing - I'm more of a conduit for it," he explained. "If you use the same way you tried on your hand, it shouldn't alert the Hunt as your jumping does. So you can use it whenever you need."
"Because it's not really my power?" she asked curiously "More like… borrowing nature's power? Not like in the desert."
"It flows through yours, making a connection, but mostly you make yourself a conduit for other forces."
Ciri nodded, believing she understood. "Alright. Then I shall practice." She hesitated a moment before asking. "What about scars? This method… can it be used to heal wounds that have long since healed, but left scars behind?"
Kain silently took her hand and overturned it palm-up for her to see. "There was a scar, I believe. So what are you asking?" A small sly smile swept over his mouth.
"Yes. But it was new. Fresh. I am asking about scars that are years old."
His touch, even the simple act of holding her hand, made her skin very warm. And she was highly conscious about it.
"Time doesn't matter," he said, releasing her hand. "Any scar is just a trace that doesn't have to be there if you don't want it there. Your body will do what you want it to when you know how to direct the power."
Ciri nodded thoughtfully. "Alright. That is good to know. Thank you."
Kain regarded her with a shrew eye. "Is it about the one on your cheek?"
As always when asked about it, her hand rose to cover the scar across her cheek. She shook her head after a few seconds. "No. It used to look much worse. It was crudely stitched together, you see. But Avallac'h helped heal it some. We were interrupted by The Wild Hunt our last session and just haven't really found the time to continue. But I am thinking maybe I should keep it. As a lesson learned.
"Besides, a lot of men feel repulsed when they look at me now. That could be an advantage."
Pure disbelief reflected on Kain's face. "If you think yourself disfigured in any way - enough to repulse anyone - you're not seeing yourself clearly. You're wrong to think it takes away your beauty."
She stared at him with an expression similar to his own. He had called her beautiful. Ciri couldn't remember the last time someone had called her that, if anyone ever had.
She swallowed. "Well, people used to. Be repulsed, I mean. It hurt at first, but lately I've been wondering if it might have been a blessing."
That was a lie. She knew deep, deep down her face had never mattered at all. Not to those who wanted to harm her.
"I don't see anything anyone in their right mind could be repulsed with," Kain said. "But then again, not every single man on earth is in his right mind.
"Look at Geralt. He's got scars on his face, more noticeable than yours, and it doesn't take a seer to notice how both sorceresses are smitten, and the third keeps casting glances when he doesn't see. Nothing repulses them. So why would your story be sadder?"
"Ah," she smiled. "Scars on men are considered alluring. Didn't you know? And on a Witcher, it speaks of his many battles and triumphs. My scars have… other tales.
"Besides, Geralt is kind and warm. Despite what everybody says about him. And he has me. A man who is a good father to his daughter? It will make every pair of knickers in the kingdom drop," she teased.
"Not every woman smitten by him knows about you."
She whispered cunningly, "That part was mostly in jest, kitten."
He rolled his eyes and got to his feet.
"We should get back before your teacher starts looking."
She sighed. "Yes, we should." She got to her feet and held her hand out to him, taking in the calm and the beautiful view for just two more seconds before she transported them back to the keep.
"Zireael."
It felt his voice had actual weight. Weight of metal.
The Elf strolled toward them, his face flickering between unreadable and stern. "Why do you use your power without my permission? You are putting everyone in danger, especially yourself."
Ciri reluctantly released Kain's hand as Avallac'h came into view, his face pinched and tense. Not an easy thing to read but she knew him well enough now. "Eredin already knows where I am," she pointed out. "If he is coming back there isn't anything we can do to stop him. And me using my powers certainly won't dissuade him."
Avallac'h measured Kain with his cold eyes, then focused on Ciri again.
"We have to train - a lot and restlessly - before you can use your power for fun. It is not a toy. It is a weapon of mass destruction. What if something sets you off and I'm not around?"
Kain stepped away, trusting she should fight her own battles with him so he would deem her a grown person.
"Avallac'h," Ciri said in a deceptively calm tone, for she was trying her best to embrace that feeling. "You told me not two hours ago that my powers can also be used for good. And I have never used it for fun. Kain was teaching me to heal myself." She watched said boy's retreating back, the sight of him leaving making her sad for some reason.
"And you cannot be at my side always. It can never work."
Griffin came down from his perch on the wall to greet Kain before he could get to the stairs, making him stay for their argument.
Avallac'h shot a look his way, brief but sharp. "You had something to heal and you haven't told me? You cannot overwork yourself with healing. Remember what happened before? You want to near die again?"
"I did not know how to do it properly then. I relied on my own power, that weapon of mass destruction as you call it, instead of truly drawing from nature. This was different. Just like meditating."
He could not be mad about the meditating. Avallac'h loved meditating.
Avallac'h cast another quick gander at Kain who was jogging up the stairs heading toward the keep's door.
"I see, Zireael. Meditation is much more exciting when a pretty boy face suggests it.
"Unfortunately, he cannot teach you to survive and control yourself so your power doesn't kill anyone around you. And we shall get back to work."
Ciri rolled her eyes so hard it hurt, inhaling and exhaling to keep from losing her temper with the Elf. "You sound almost jealous, Crevan," she muttered spitefully, but headed towards the training grounds nonetheless, resigning herself to a long, hard afternoon of training.
When the annoying boy emerged from the keep calling Ciri for the hare stew and fried hares with sweet potatoes that Zoltan had summoned from his hidden skills, Avallac'h peered from Kain to Ciri with reprimand.
"Training on a stuffed stomach is a time wasted," he said.
"I will keep that in mind when I plate my food," she said, gesturing for the Elf to follow. "Come eat, Avallac'h. You need to keep your strength up as well."
Both Triss and Yennefer arrived back to The Spearhead inn, one after the other, a base Yennefer worked from in Novigrad and had been the only place that housed her without issue.
She'd helped the woman who ran the Inn many years back conceive a child, and since then the new mother had repaid the favor by providing Yennefer with lodging as needed.
"I suggest we start with the Lodge itself," Triss said as though they had been on horseback and had just stopped to take in the sights.
"That's the idea. But first, I'd like to find where Philippa is. I can't afford to go over her head and have her think that I'm trying to take over."
"Maybe I should be the one to talk to her first," Triss suggested.
Philippa and Yennefer's history wasn't the best and they'd always clashed, but she was Yennefer's problem, and Yennefer wanted to make sure that Triss didn't add any other secret reassurances.
"I'd rather speak to her myself."
"You don't trust me?" Triss asked, brow arching, looking as though Yennefer had kicked her in the face.
Yen speared her with a bland look and then turned her back on the young sorceress. All Yennefer's items were in her room, shifted around and placed as though she'd been staying there the entire time.
"Let's just get on with it, shall we?"
Triss sucked in a breath as though sucking on something sour, and headed for the door. Yennefer trailed after her.
Zoltan set a full plate in front of Geralt and added a bowl of stew. The Witcher took a spoon when Ciri walked in, shortly after Kain. A moment later, Avallac'h followed looking displeased.
"Hey, lassy, 'ere ye go," Zoltan put a plate with hare and potatoes on the table next to Geralt, inviting her to sit down.
"Thank you, Zoltan," Ciri smiled, taking a seat beside Geralt and pulling her plate towards her.
Avallac'h was sulking. As much as an Elf could truly sulk. But she tried to ignore it. She had to be allowed to eat!
"Heard anything from Yennefer and Triss?" she asked Geralt, picking up a spoon.
Geralt laughed. "You're too quick. They left just last night. There is probably nothing to let us know about. They might wait with news until we come to Novigrad."
"But you think they are fine? I don't like them being in Novigrad. Not while The Eternal Fire are spreading their filth." She slipped a spoonful of stew into her mouth, almost groaning with delight. Before Avallac'h and Ciri had reunited with Geralt and Yennefer, eating food prepared like this was a rarity. More often than not, the Elf had insisted they nibble on roots and leaves found in the forest.
"They're not as defenseless," Geralt reasoned, gnawing a bone clean. "They know how to play it safe and be careful."
"Doesn't mean I won't worry. I've already seen Yennefer tormented beyond belief one time. I'd rather not have that happen again."
The fork froze on its way to his mouth; he lowered it and looked at her with a questioning scowl. "What is that about now?"
"You know, when Vilgefortz captured her and tormented her so she'd give him my location?" she reminded him, chewing before catching the look on his face. "Oh, of course you don't remember."
Geralt let out an irritated scoff and forked the potatoes again. "I'm beginning to get tired of the things people want me to remember. As if I can pull a lever in my head and bring everything back the way they want."
Ciri watched him, unused to that gruffness. He hadn't displayed much of it while they'd been together these past few days. "I'm sorry. I just forgot…"
"And I didn't just forget," he muttered and busied his mouth with food.
She averted her gaze back to her meal, not sure what had brought this mood on. She exchanged a look with Zoltan who winked and shoveled food into his own gob, as if telling her not to worry about it.
There was barely enough for Kain to understand in their conversation, so he paid no mind and finished his meal first. Zoltan offered mead but he refused politely and removed himself from the kitchen.
He headed out with Griffin who was already waiting at the gate. Kain hopped onto his back and the beast bolted up, both of them eager for a flight.
Ciri declined the mead as well, which was unlike her, but she figured it best not to push Avallac'h too far for one day.
He had barely touched his food, instead spending his time watching the rest of them with a shrewd gaze as if trying to gaze into their souls. His blue eyes followed Kain as he left and then flitted back to Ciri, probably half-expecting her to run after him. She didn't.
She finished her meal, thanked Zoltan, and stood to clear away her plate and utensils.
Geralt finished after Ciri and didn't say no to mead, intending to spend time in Zoltan's company and help him clean.
Avallac'h didn't overdo his stay, either, thanked Zoltan curtly and retreated from the kitchen.
Immediately after finishing, Ciri joined Avallac'h back on the training grounds, and they got started anew. It was more exhausting this time. Probably because her mind was not as sharp as it has been this morning.
But she didn't let up until Avallac'h finally let her go for the day. He told her to take a bath to soothe her aching muscles. Which was strange because they did indeed ache. As if she had just done a day of witcher training all over again.
Ciri headed for Yennefer's room.
Kain and Griffin landed by the lake, and though Kain didn't get his sword, they managed to get rid of five drowners that dashed to them as soon as they appeared.
Upon burning the bodies, he found another spot slightly on a hill's side, and they settled to wait for the sunset. Griffin shifted close as though worried Kain might abandon him again, and began the ritual of cleaning his feathers and fur.
Kain leaned against him, half-lying, and relaxed, watching the nearing dusk spill its colors over the lake's waters.
Ciri was tired and yet the bath was not as soothing as she had expected. Nor did she allow herself to drift off, no matter how tempting it was.
Once sufficiently clean, she dried off and got dressed, marching back downstairs again, past Zoltan and Geralt who were still seated around the table, and out into the courtyard.
She continued until she reached the open front gate. There she stood for a while, trying to connect with nature's powers the way Kain had been trying to teach her. Then she closed her eyes, took the stone of her bracelet between two fingers, and gently rubbed.
Come home, Kelpie. Come back to me.
"Have ye been sleepin all right?" Zoltan asked, suckling at one of the hare's bones watching the Witcher intently. "Ye don' seem rested, mate."
"Maybe because I'm not," Geralt admitted, finishing his stew, and reached for the mug of mead Zoltan had filled for him. "Keep having the nightmares again. Ciri, that bastard Eredin… Nothing ever ends well."
"Nothing really ended well in real life," Zoltan said, pulling Geralt's empty dishes away from him to clean the table for salty dried meat dish to accompany the drinks. "I tell ye, we have to attack 'em. They don' await it, and we gotta do somethin' that they won't expect."
"Like it's that easy, Zoltan!" Geralt shook his head and took a gulp of mead. "Without any magic, we're like naked children fighting them. They have the Frost, the armor that's too tough for most our swords, the hounds… and the worst timing ever. And they track Ciri."
"Tis bad, of course, but if she can bait 'em to where we want 'em—"
"I'm not sure you understand, Zoltan: we do not want them anywhere."
"We have to gather forces and attack, Geralt, ye know we have no time to wait for 'em! Come on, ye gotta see the sense in what I'm tryina say."
"I see what you want to achieve, but I don't think it's possible."
"Ye really better be wrong," Zoltan sighed, and drank. "We all saw what that kitten-lad can do – that's a magic aid ye want, is it not?"
"I'm not even sure why he's still here – I don't think he was going to stay. Mousesack expected him to return to Skellige with him."
Zoltan sneered. "Must be the lassy. Pretty lassies got powers over lads, even determined ones."
Geralt waved a dismissive hand, eliciting a frown from the dwarf, and drank. "His background's complicated enough without our lassie. I don't think he's here because of that."
"Why then?"
He shrugged. "They have some sort of friendly ground, but doesn't seem more."
"Aye," Zoltan scoffed a laugh, swallowing a swig of mead. "Ye jus' wait a tad, and ye be served."
"Hope not."
Zoltan merely sneered, drinking.
Ciri waited. And waited. No sign of Kelpie. It was foolish to have expected her to come right away. She could have been anywhere. But at least now the signal had been sent and she would be able to track Ciri.
She pushed away from the gate, feeling a little defeated, and headed back for the keep. She settled down at the table despite the earlier sour mood and looked to Zoltan with a pleading tiredness.
"I'll take that mead now, please."
"Aye, sure, lassie," he got up and snatched a mug from the counter behind, then poured her a drink and sent it sliding across the table to where she sat. "Why so sour? Yer kitten-lad left ye?"
She caught the mug and blinked. "My what?"
Realization dawned a few seconds later.
"Oh… no. I don't know where he is. I'm just… tired."
That was the best description for it.
She took a deep drink of her mead. "This keep feels empty now."
"Aye, aye," Zoltan nodded, heaved a sigh as he sat back and poured himself more mead. "Sad day, indeed. But what can we do… They wouldn't want us cryin', lassie."
"I'm not crying," she said. "I just… wonder what will happen to this place now."
"It will just sit here abandoned," Geralt muttered. "Eskel said he wasn't going to winter here, anymore. Hardly Lambert is of a different opinion."
Ciri was silent a moment, drinking, deeply saddened by that realization. "Maybe when everything is over, I could…"
But that dream died quickly, as well. It would never happen. Kaer Morhen would be no more.
"There's nothing anyone could do," Eskel said, walking in. He took his swords belt off and joined them at the table. Zoltan served him the stew and the fried hare, placed a full mug of mead next to it. "Sometimes people and places just die. It happens. Way of life." He took a swig, then started on his stew.
"I guess," Ciri agreed, subtly eyeing Geralt, wondering how he was feeling about all of this.
She knew how he felt about Vesemir, of course. That was not the question. But she didn't think he'd spent much time here lately. He'd been looking for her, after all.
But this was his home. Their home. The only one they'd truly had. Was his heart aching as much as hers?
Zoltan and Gerald gradually descended into politics and Novigrad topics while Eskel ate in silence. When his stew was done, he cast a quick glance at Ciri, pulling the plate with fried hare closer to him.
"Your boy and the griffin are gone," he said quietly, taking the fork.
"He's not my boy," she said, cheeks flushing pink. "And I know. He doesn't like being cooped up. He needs to be outside."
Eskel sneered wryly, "None of us brought him, so he's yours, little lady."
"Technically, Yennefer brought him," she pointed out and lowered her voice, pressing her head so close to Eskel's their noses were almost touching. She hissed, "And don't put those ideas in Geralt's head. He's sour enough as is right now."
He chortled. "Oh, trust me, there's nothing I can put in his head that hasn't gotten there before me."
"Well, whatever he is thinking — or you for that matter — it's wrong," she grumbled under her breath.
Eskel smiled and said nothing, biting off a hare's leg.
Ciri eyed him, struggling to keep her curiosity at bay. "What are you thinking?"
Eskel shrugged subtly, his smile in place when he set the mug down.
Her curiosity quickly turned to concern. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at Geralt and Zoltan before turning back to Eskel again. "You all think I am fucking him?"
Zoltan and Geralt's heads snapped to her, their argument dying at once as if cut with scissors. Both were gaping.
"Excuse me?" Geralt ventured, frowning.
Damn that witcher-hearing.
Ciri sighed and turned to look at Geralt. "What?"
The Witcher peered at her, still flabbergasted. "What was that about?"
Ciri straightened up a little despite the awkwardness spreading through the room. "I am having a conversation with Eskel," she said. "A private conversation."
Eskel looked as though he wished he could be anywhere but here, and hid his face in his mug of mead.
Coward.
Geralt raised an eyebrow: "You want us to leave?"
"No," she frowned, feeling even more awkward and out of place. She didn't like the way they were all looking at her, even if she had partially brought it on herself. "I need some air."
She stood and headed for the front door with a hurried stride, cheeks still burning.
Eskel looked after her as she left, then between Geralt and Zoltan, a question in his face.
"No," Geralt said, shaking his head once, and held out his mug to Zoltan for a refill. Which he did. "She needs her space, she can have it."
Eskel pondered, glancing at the door once again, then reluctantly continued to eat.
The night air was cool and welcoming and Ciri was immediately able to breathe easier.
She climbed onto one of the lower walls of the keep, slowly walking the length of it, gaze set on the darkening treetops in the distance.
She regretted her question. But it was still one she wanted an answer to. Is that what everyone thought she and Kain were doing? Did they think that was why she had a hard time being away from him? Because they were fucking?
They didn't understand at all. Even less than she did, and she was still struggling to unravel the mystery of her feelings.
Eventually, she sat down on the cold stone, leaning her back against the wall and watching the view. It would soon be dark enough she would barely make out the contours of the mountains.
When the sun was down and the moon hadn't risen yet, Kain and Griffin flew around the lake and higher up the mountains until they found a small, clean cave.
Kain missed his cloak he had left back on Skellige, but it was fine. With Griffin, he was going to be fine.
He went for a stroll around, gathered everything that could serve as firewood and returned to the cave. Griffin was waiting outside, not wanting to settle down before knowing Kain wasn't going away. He lit the campfire, and they settled down for the night.
It felt like habitual home and a nice change from the tension of the keep. People there needed to work through their problems, and maybe he was getting in the way. None of them were used to having strangers around. No one in their world was – except for the courtesans.
The mead they all had consumed the night before kept them down until the sun was well up. Zoltan headed to the kitchen, grumbling about being a 'ploughin housewife', to get the bread started, while Eskel and Geralt went out to hunt.
Avallac'h and Ciri were nowhere to be found, neither was Kain.
"Think he took off?" Eskel asked, setting a rabbit trap.
"He could have," Geralt shrugged. "His beast isn't anywhere around, either. Maybe he's had enough of all this and decided he was better off away from here, from his past and… well, from her."
"Why's that?" Eskel threw him a dumbfounded gander over his shoulder. "Think he doesn't like her or something?"
"I don't really know what he likes or doesn't, nor what he feels. He doesn't let anything show, nor talks about it."
"Yeah, just like her."
Geralt grimaced subtly. "That's alarming."
"You jealous of her new interest?"
"What interest you mean, exactly?"
Eskel cleared his throat, getting up, and headed further to set another trap. "I mean, remember when you brought her here and took her to the armory for the first time? Remember how she looked at all those swords and armor? She looks at him like that now – least what I saw."
"Uh-huh, and he doesn't."
Eskel sighed. "I'm no expert on anything but creatures and hunting."
"Nor any witcher's supposed to be."
"True. So maybe that's what it is: she ain't a witcher, but he is one. Not by mutagens, but by upbringing, he is, like I said, old school. He might just prefer to stay away from that sort of business with feelings. I would certainly understand that."
Geralt hemmed and thought of Morénn and Kain's face when Geralt pulled it out of him.
When they returned with three hares, the yards were still empty, but the kitchen was breathing with life while Zoltan baked his famous dwarven garlic bread. He was delighted to see the hares – there was one more recipe he hadn't tried.
"Who knew you had it in you," Geralt teased while they skinned the hares.
"Ah, pal, every dwarf has to be sufficient whatever arse of the world he wouldn't wind up in – jus' like 'ere with ye lousy good-for-nothins." They laughed.
"Ciri?" Geralt asked a bit later.
He threw the Witcher a curt concerned glance. "Nay, might be still sleepin. Is good for 'er."
Ciri'd hunkered down in Yennefer's room for the night, despite the lack of a bed. But she'd lit the fireplace and slept close to it, like she and Kain had done in the cave, and though Ciri hadn't been entirely comfortable on the floor, she had still gotten some needed sleep.
She woke in the early morning and for a long moment just watched the dying embers in front of her. When that could no longer hold her attention, she rose to her feet and brushed herself off, standing in front of the floor-length looking glass pushed up against the wall so she could tame her hair.
It had been a long time since she'd watched her reflection in anything other than water and seeing as this was much clearer and accurate, she wasn't certain she liked what she saw. It had nothing to do with beauty. She'd never considered herself particularly beautiful (who would, in comparison to Yennefer and Triss?) but she knew she looked… all right. Most of the time it was the hair and the eyes that caught people's attention. Before the scar, that was.
Ciri undressed in front of the mirror, very slowly, revealing inch by inch of bare skin. She had a few scars on her front torso and arms, most acquired in battle by either men or beast. There was one that was particularly prominent, scoring across her hipbone. She felt no shame in having or displaying those scars. None at all.
But when she turned around to examine her back, her chest tightened painfully. All down the expanse of her back were the scars of angry, raised welts. Courtesy of Leo Bonhart. A few had even been left across her buttocks and back of the thighs. They had not been acquired during a fight. That had been pure punishment, or "training" as Bonhart had called it.
Her time spent under Bonhart's violent, sadistic hand had truly been the darkest in her short life. It hadn't even been the pain. She could handle pain better than she thought. It had been the humiliation and despair. She had been utterly helpless and alone. She had gone from Princess to Witcher in training to… nothing at all. Worthless.
She inhaled sharply, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach, and hurriedly dressed again, vowing to herself to stay away from looking glasses in the future. They brought nothing good.
Ciri ventured downstairs after a while, testing the atmosphere at the bottom of the stairs before she eventually dared to enter the kitchen.
"Hey, lassie," Zoltan greeted as soon as Ciri appeared. "Mornin! There, have some bread and tea."
Eskel and Geralt watched her, chewing.
"You feel all right?" Geralt asked.
"Lovely," she responded to Zoltan with a smile, moving to grab a plate and cup for herself before settling at the table. "Right as rain," she told Geralt. "Are you all right?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
He took a hearty gulp of Zoltan's tea and cut himself another piece of bread sitting in the middle of the table.
"Just checking," she said, waiting until he was done with the bread before she cut herself a slice, as well.
She didn't know why but things had suddenly become strange between Geralt and her, as if they didn't know how to talk to each other anymore.
She also noticed that the conversation around the table had all but died down once she joined them.
"Lassie," Zoltan said, joining them at the table with his mug of tea. "Has yer elf told ye when he plans on movin' on from 'ere? Novigrad and all?"
Ciri shook her head. "He's not exactly forthcoming with his plans. Much like the sorceresses in that way." She had a bite of her bread, chewing and swallowing before continuing. "But I say we should go sooner rather than later. Yen and Triss might need help at some point."
"I'm sure they will let us know when they need help," Geralt said, washing the bread down with tea. "Avallac'h insisted on training time, so ultimately we are waiting for his signal."
"It won't help," she muttered, pushing her bread around her plate with one finger. "There is nothing he can teach me that will prepare me for the pain of losing a loved one."
Geralt regarded her with a serious expression. "Wasn't he supposed to prepare you to not lose anyone due to how you use your power?"
Ciri flinched, not entirely sure of his meaning. "You think I should have prevented Coen's death? Vesemir's? And Hjalmar's men?"
In an ideal world that would be amazing. But she wasn't sure how she could ever manage something like that. She apparently had unlimited power, but she, Ciri, was not all-powerful. Far from it.
Geralt winced. "No, Ciri, you couldn't. Not this time. It's impossible to save everyone. All I meant was that you have to learn to control your power to not be afraid of the Hunt anymore. Avallac'h keeps telling us how grand that power is, but if so - you could be able to use it to its full potential and protect yourself and those around you. That should be the goal of that training. And what does he want you to do? Move rocks around?"
"Maybe she has to move rocks around first before doing anything big," Eskel said, shrugging. "We never begin our training with silver swords."
"If I stop being afraid of The Hunt, I've become an idiot," Ciri said softly. "I'm not scared of what they will do to me. I'm scared of what they will do to this world. Did you know the world the Aen Elle currently inhabits used to be a world of humans? Then they came and slaughtered most of them, kept the rest in chains. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago. They still keep humans as slaves.
"We're no better, I know that," she admitted. "But genocide of any kind is horrible and should be fought. Knowing I am the key to allow the Aen Elle to wreak chaos like they used to… it's a lot to carry."
She looked to Geralt.
"I want to learn to control my powers, believe me, I do. But I also know that won't be accomplished in just a few days. I have suppressed my magic for so long it no longer feels as natural as it should. With the exception of leaping through worlds which feels… like breathing.
And even Avallac'h knows that deep, deep down."
Geralt thought about it awhile, chewing on his bread.
"It's a bit strange to me - given I have no such powers - but if I would imagine it, jumping between worlds would seem like the most difficult part. If you've mastered it so perfectly, the rest should come easier. And Avallac'h has to know at least to some degree how to teach you to tap into it, since he's a mage himself."
"I am tapping into it," she said. "But there is a big difference from moving objects without touching them and making someone's heart stop beating just because I will it."
"There is a difference, but you can learn it. The question is, who can really teach you that? Can Avallac'h do that or all he can do is whine how you have to train?"
Ciri shrugged, poking at her bread again. "I don't know. We haven't really been awarded enough time to find out. Though he knows more about the Elder Blood and what I should be able to do than anyone. He has studied it for centuries, after all."
"Is he not sharing any knowledge with you? You have the right to know about all this."
"Mm," she hummed in agreement. "Avallac'h doesn't share information with our kind unless it is earned."
Geralt scowled. "What kind of nonsense is this? You are of Elder Blood and he won't tell you what you're supposed to know? I'd say he's useless to you in that case."
"I'll agree with Geralt on this, lassie," Zoltan piped in. "What kind of teacher wouldn't tell a student what to do with what he's teachin'? It smells of treachery and hidden motives."
Tongue-in-cheek, Ciri averted her gaze from them all. They had a point. She couldn't truly know what Avallac'h expected of her after they'd dispersed of the current threat. Other than stopping The White Frost. He had not yet told her what she would have to do in order to succeed in that particular venture, but he had at least been honest enough to tell her there was a strong likelihood she might die trying.
"Perhaps," she said. "But he is the only one who can stop me when… if things go badly. I need him."
"He can't be the only one in the whole world to be able to do that," Geralt reasoned. "Had Yennefer or Mousesack been free at the moment it started, I'm sure either could do it for you."
Ciri shrugged. "I'm not so sure about that."
She wasn't sure about anything, really. Only that the raw, primitive power inside her scared her at times. Memories from the desert and the voice in her head that had coaxed her so alluringly at the time continued to resurface.
She rose from the table and smiled subtly. "Thank you for breakfast. I'm going to go for a walk. If Avallac'h comes calling, tell him… Tell him, I'll be back soon."
"Very well," Geralt nodded. "Though I would prefer you weren't alone."
"Ah, Geralt," Zoltan reprimanded. "Maybe she wanna find 'er kitten-lad. Let the lass be, ye old wolf."
Geralt scowled but didn't say anything, finishing his tea.
Ciri paused, regarding Geralt and his displeased expression. "Come with me?" she offered, hoping he would accept. Though after last night she wasn't sure he would want to.
Geralt pondered, and got up with a curt nod Zoltan's way as a thanks for the breakfast.
He waited for Ciri to lead the way outside, and followed.
Triss and Yennefer had spent most of the previous night going in search of their respective sources for information on the Lodge. Most had refused to talk in fear of a series of repercussions and things were a lot worse than Yennefer had first speculated.
"Find anything of use?" she asked when Triss entered her room at the Spearhead.
Triss nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking as though she'd been running. She removed her shoes and massaged at her feet tiredly.
"Are you going to tell me?"
Green eyes shot to Yen's face with agitation and then she nodded.
"I needed a minute."
She'd had hours. How much more did she need? Unless she was trying to be aggravatingly suspenseful. Yennefer said nothing while waiting and speared her with an impatient glare.
"From what I've learned Philippa has been captured by Redanians in Loc Muinne. At least she was. She escaped and now it's said she's either dead or missing."
Missing seemed the most likely.
"And?"
"And what? I haven't been able to get a hold of Margarita."
"She gone, too?"
Triss looked down at her hands and Yennefer could tell it was worse than that.
"She's been captured."
Yennefer gestured for her to continue.
"She'd been in hiding since Loc Muinne but the witch hunters were hot on their trail. She and her students were trying to get to Novigrad, to me, after she heard what I was trying to do—had done—for other mages to Kovir," her voice cracked the deeper in she got, and for a time Yennefer thought she might cry. "It's been said most have been burnt at the stake and that she's being saved for last."
That was a lot of information to have found out in one day.
"Do you know where? When?"
"The dungeons. I haven't been able to find out the when… yet. How'd things go with Ida and Francesca?"
Yennefer shook her head.
"No, go—apparently they can't see past their differences to help us."
"I should have talked to them," Triss said, touching on a nerve. Yennefer rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and sat back against her vanity table, legs crossed as she studied Triss.
"You've something on your mind."
Yennefer had already peeked into it to make sure she hadn't been lying.
"I hate when you do that."
"I don't care."
Triss slipped her shoe back on, got to her feet and strode toward Yen with a new sort of determination.
"What about the boy?"
"What boy?"
"The Witcher."
Yennefer frowned, unsure of what she was getting to with her reference and what she thought they could possible do with a witcher. Yennefer knew that the Lodge was interested in them, in their secrets and that there was a time some had tried to infiltrated, but she had never wanted to and had even less desire to do so now. Yennefer gestured for her to continue, to make a bit more sense.
"I don't believe he's just a witcher. On the battlefield, he did some remarkable things. He dispersed of whole groups of The Wild Hunt and hardly broke a sweat."
Yennefer fixed her with a deadpan look to suggest Triss was exaggerating.
"That's what witchers are trained to do, Triss."
"Not like this—you should have seen it."
Yennefer could already sense where she was going with this, and Yen wanted no part of it.
"I don't know what he is capable of and I'm not going to use him as a bargaining chip."
"That's not what I was suggesting," Triss sputtered with a touch of borderline innocent indignation. Yennefer wasn't falling for it, she forgot the black-haired sorceress knew her well.
"Of course it was," Yennefer retorted vehemently. "We hardly know what he is about and he fought for us. He isn't a pawn and nor do we have any right to speak for him."
Also there was his connection to Ciri to take into consideration. Triss didn't appear to even have considered that, fixated—once again—on what she deemed would be the right way.
Yennefer got up and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To get information. Rest while you can."
With that, she stepped out and left Triss to it.
Ciri didn't speak until they had passed through the last gate and were out of the keep, leisurely strolling down the road. She didn't know where Avallac'h might be lurking.
"Avallac'h did tell me something. Not about my powers, but about The Hunt. One of the generals, Imlerith, the brute who… who strung Vesemir up at the wall, he attends a Sabbath every year. A feast where he can indulge in, um, corporeal pleasures."
Those had been Avallac'h's words.
Geralt frowned, smelling trouble, and looked at her. "What of it?"
"The Sabbath occurs in Velen. It is a tribute to the Crones of Crookback Bog. Have you heard of them?"
He grimaced. "I met them in the flesh while following the trail you left. I don't think I'd want to repeat the pleasure. Nor would they like me, anymore."
She smiled subtly. "Well, I wasn't planning a reunion with them either. But Imlerith will be there at the Sabbath, a week from now. He will be alone. He will be distracted. And he will not be on guard."
She eyed Geralt, assuming he would catch up on what she was hinting at.
The Witcher peered at her, conflicted and preoccupied. "Ciri, it's just a week. You might not be ready to meet him. I can't let you. You're good, but he is a mighty warrior, and he'll kill you, Eredin's orders be damned, if you try to get him there."
"Which is why I am asking you to come with me. Taking out the generals one by one is our best shot. It will weaken Eredin greatly. And this is the right opportunity - the only opportunity - where Imlerith is concerned." She looked up at him. "And we need to avenge Vesemir."
"I don't like it. Even if it makes sense on a larger scale." He pondered for a bit longer as they strolled. "What of Avallac'h? He intends to help? Is that his idea?"
She snorted. "If I suggested this to Avallac'h, he'd send me to the Isle of Mists again. No, he doesn't know. And I would prefer to keep it that way until we've gone." She paused. "I was thinking of asking Kain to come, too."
She was probably right about Avallac'h who never intended to actively fight to help anything like that. He wouldn't approve of Ciri's crusade.
Kain, though... With his Brokilon history, Geralt wasn't sure he'd want to venture into another suicidal war.
"What makes you sure he'd agree?"
"I'm not sure at all. Hence I intend to ask rather than command," she smirked.
"He was going to leave with Mousesack - the druid expected him to. Why did he stay?"
"Because I asked him to," she said simply.
"Why?"
"Other than the fact I enjoy his company?" She sighed. "Eredin wants him. That worries me."
"Eredin wants you - you are his main goal. He wouldn't hunt Kain when he knows where to find you."
"I'm not so sure about that. I've told you, Kain is special. He just doesn't know it yet. Besides, when we leave here Eredin won't know where to find me. So he'll use the people I care about, like he did you and Yennefer. He'll get Kain to draw me out."
"And how would he find Kain? He's not jumping through worlds like you. How can Eredin track him down?"
"There are other ways. He could track his magic. When Yennefer was on the run from The Lodge after being falsely accused of crimes she hadn't committed, they tracked her magical signature. Made life very difficult for her.
"Kain is very capable even without his magic, but… it hurts not being able to use it. Like suddenly no longer being able to make use of one of your legs."
"Think he's already marked Kain's magic? From the battle night?"
Ciri shrugged. "I don't know. But it wouldn't surprise me. I believe they even have a certain grasp on Avallac'h's location at times. And even if you don't like him, you have to admit he is probably one of the most skilled mages we have in our arsenal. He was basically bred for power."
Geralt sighed and gave her a somewhat ironic look. "I don't know about that, Ciri. But I saw Kain overuse his power to save us all before you opened the gate. He nearly passed out after it, but a whole unit of the Hunt was dead and we were alive.
"And then there is Avallac'h who did nothing for us until the very end. If he's bred for power - it's his own selfish goals and solely they that drive him. He only uses magic when it suits him."
"I know that," she admitted. "I know everything he does is for the Aen Elle. For his people. But unlike Eredin, he doesn't seem intent on killing the lot of us to ensure their safety."
"He would let us die without a second thought. He would do nothing to help your allies. At times I'd say it equals helping the killing. How do you call it when someone is being killed and you do nothing but watch?"
"I'm not talking about my allies. I am talking about the whole human race," she said. "As for why he didn't come to our aid after I left him in the keep… I don't know, Geralt. You'd have to ask him."
"I don't have to ask him. I just told you: he doesn't need any of us. He thinks we're a liability because we are what keeps you from being wholly in his power. He might be even hoping that we'd perish."
Ciri shook her head, unwilling to believe that. "No. He would never want that. I know he can be difficult. Cruel even, if one catches him at the wrong moment. But he cares about me. He wouldn't wish that kind of pain on me."
A small sad smile touched Geralt's mouth. "Don't you see? When you have no one else but him to console you, it's easier to manipulate you. You will have no fight in you left - not against him. You'd see him as your only friend left. And that is when he gets the whole power - because you'd hand it to him."
Ciri couldn't look at Geralt. She could recognize a hint of truth in what he said, but it hurt too much to delve into further.
"I'm not going to be alone," she said, determined. "I'm not."
"We'll do all we can to not let it happen. But Avallac'h will do nothing to help you keep any of us alive. And that is your answer. It has been there all along.
"Be careful, Ciri. I'm not trying to belittle anything he's done for you and your safety - all I want for you is to keep a clear mind concerning him. Don't fall for manipulation - see him as he is. Look for the truth. You always have to look for truth."
Whatever truth he was speaking of, Ciri didn't want to see it. The pain of it was too much. She couldn't stand the thought of having let herself become someone's plaything again – in any form.
It made her feel sick. So sick she felt bile rise at the back of her throat. She swallowed, fists clenched at her sides as they walked, as if that would make her stronger.
"I'll be careful," she breathed, barely able to get it out.
"It's all I want," he said, and wrapped an arm gently around her shoulders drawing her closer to him. "All I want for you is to keep your own mind and not let anyone bend your perception to suit their needs and wants."
Ciri leaned into him because he was safe. Geralt had always offered safety. And it allowed her to breathe easier.
She wrapped an arm around his waist as they walked, silent for a long time, simply observing the peaceful nature surrounding them.
When she finally spoke, she had changed the topic. "Do you like Kain?"
Geralt didn't immediately know what to say to this. It was hard to find his footing in how he felt about the boy with so many things the Witcher still didn't know.
"I'm grateful to him for saving you, for saving all of us that night. I did like him back at the School, though I wouldn't say I know much more about him now than I did back then when we barely met face to face.
"I don't know. I won't know until I'm certain he's not intentionally hiding anything from us. The stakes are too high these days when it comes to trust."
"Everybody is hiding something," she said. "Even those we love most, I think."
"What do you mean by that? Anything specific?"
"No." She shrugged as much as his hold on her would allow. "I just don't think anyone is ever going to open up fully about their thoughts or feelings or past experiences. It's a very vulnerable state to be in."
A pang of pain stabbed him in the heart; all the things she hinted on but refused to talk about with him came floating up in his mind like dead frogs bellies-up in a pond.
"Sometimes it's one of the very few ways to heal it - to open up to someone close. Maybe even the only way."
Ciri looked up at him and saw absolute sadness reflected on his face. It worried her. "Is there anything you would like to talk about?" she asked cautiously.
He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he looked down under their feet. "All those things you don't want me to know... It's like an ever-widening gap. I know you want to spare me, but it seems to be working in the opposite direction. I couldn't help you then, and can't even help you now because you wouldn't let me. And it's killing me to think you're too ashamed or scared to tell me anything."
That was not what she had been expecting. She had assumed there was something that was bothering him, but hadn't thought herself to be the reason. "Oh," she said, her lips moving soundlessly for a few seconds, unable to find the right words. "I don't know what… I mean, what do you want to know?"
"That's the thing: I don't know. Something is weighing down on you every day of your life now, and I have no idea what had happened to you while I wasn't there to spare you the suffering."
Ciri smiled a little, but it came off as more of a helpless gesture. "Sure, there were certain things that happened while we were apart. But… it feels strange to talk about it. Like I should have left it in the past. And I'm not even certain if what I went through isn't just what every young girl goes through."
"I don't think so, Ciri. From what you did tell me, even partially, I can tell you it's not what every girl has to go through."
He kept silent for a few beats, then had to ask: "Does Avallac'h know? About all you had happen to you?"
"I haven't told him," she said. "But he might know. He knows things others don't… Part of being a Sage, I suppose. He even knows of the things Eredin does to me in my dreams at night."
The thought of her nightmares and Eredin in them sickened him deeply. But there was nothing Geralt could do about it, which was even more of a sick joke. What good was he to Ciri when he couldn't protect her at all, anymore?
"Don't be sad," she pleaded, finding his hand with hers. "I can't stand making you sad."
He drew her closer, as if that instinctive gesture alone could make him feel any better about protecting her.
"It's not you that does, Ciri. It's what life's done to you. What I failed to save you from."
"It was not your fault," she whispered. "It was never your fault. Nor Yennefer's."
She was silent for another moment, hesitant. "I will tell you of the events that still trouble me most. Those that frequently visits my nightmares. But you cannot tell anyone. Promise me, Geralt. Only you."
Geralt peered at her with a grateful and touched smile. "I will be happy to share your trouble. But I shall not expect you to do it right away. It's enough for me to know that someday you will be ready. And no one else will know."
"You would think with all the magic and elves and sorcerers in my life, what hurt me the most would be related to all of that. But it wasn't. It was a normal man. Though I am not quite sure normal is an apt description. He was a monster. In human form. I have already told you a little about the bounty hunter named Bonhart… Leo Bonhart. You remember me mentioning him?"
"I do." Things she had implied about him did rip at the Witcher's heart. He expected it all to get worse when he knew for sure.
"Well, he did not just happen upon me by accident. After the Slaughter of Cintra, when The Black Knight failed to bring me to Emperor Emhyr, a man called Stefan Skellen was appointed to take his place. Skellen gathered a group of people to locate me, but he also hired a bounty hunter, Bonhart, not knowing that Bonhart had already taken a contract on me from someone else."
She paused, the next part filling her with shame and self-loathing.
"Do you remember I told you about a group of youths that called themselves The Rats? And that I spent some time with them?"
"I do," he repeated, almost wincing in anticipation for more pain to follow, the further she was getting into it.
"They were criminals and while I was with them, I became one too. We stole. Or rather, attacked and robbed people. Mostly the rich. It's not something I am particularly proud of.
"During one of these heists, we were attacking the carriage of the Baron of Casadei. His daughter was riding in that carriage and became highly traumatized after the event. I stole a very precious broche right off her chest. And so the baron, her father, also had a contract with Bonhart. He wanted him to bring me to him, so he could torture me.
"The Rats who had been doing these activities for a long time before I joined them, naturally had bounties on their heads as well. And when they heard a famed bounty hunter was nearby looking for them, they decided to take the fight to him.
"I did not go with them, for I had slipped away before they decided to do something so foolish. I had followed one of The Rats' contacts from the Merchant Guild because..." She inhaled, her cheeks a little pink. "I fancied his horse. Kelpie.
"Anyway, once I managed to make my way back, Bonhart had killed almost all of them. He was not even wearing his armor. They had taken him by surprise so he was only in his underclothes. And yet he killed them without problem.
"When I saw, a rage came over me and fueled by my own arrogance, the arrogance that told me I could take him, I attacked. We fought for a while, longer than he had believed possible, but in the end he won.
"He had the villagers tie me to a stake in the square and hold my eyelids open while he sawed The Rats' heads off. So I could watch. He liked inflicting pain."
It hurt to listen to it and realize that it was in the past and nothing could be changed or done differently. It hurt most that Geralt had no chance to change anything.
He tried his best to keep the emotions off his face not to hurt her more. He had to know. Even if there was nothing he could do, anymore, he had to know.
Geralt did not interrupt, so she continued. "Then he collared me and while on a leash, he dragged me into the crowded inn he was currently staying at. There he made me, um, undress… in front of everybody. So he could check me for weapons.
"From there on things just got worse. I was with him for weeks. He had decided not to turn me in. Because the way I fought, like no girl my age should be able to fight, it had intrigued him. And he thought he might get more profit from me if he kept me for himself.
"He continued to ask me who I truly was and where I had learned to fight. I did not tell him. I retreated deep within myself and even the daily beatings and whippings did not loosen my tongue. He did not mind. For he took great pleasure in beating me. And sometimes, at night, he would just sit and stare at me, for hours on end, with those empty, dark eyes…"
She swallowed. The memory still had the power to make her shudder.
"After a while, he took me to see a Swordmaker. Still on a leash and collar, mind you. He wanted to buy me a sword and no ordinary weapon would do. It had to be special. And the price did not matter."
She withdrew from Geralt only so she could unsheathe Swallow and hold it up to the light.
"Forged by gnomes with dark iron, its hilt made from the skin of a flatfish. Have you heard of them?" she asked, with a certain excitement in her voice. "This fish has very small teeth on its skin, so the handle does not slip out of your hand, even when you sweat. And etched on the blade…"
She held it up for Geralt's inspection, so he could see the floral designs and that of lightening striking a tower. And in the tower… a swallow.
"I thought it was a sign," she admitted, swiftly sheathing the weapon again.
While she spoke, Geralt gnashed his teeth so bad it hurt. It took enormous amount of effort to not ball his hands into fists or react anyhow. There was literally no use in any anger now, but he knew it would all come rolling in stormy ways when he was alone.
Just not now. Not now.
He'd seen her blade many times by now, and it was a spectacular work, worthy of all the admiration. But the way she got it made him nauseous.
"However magical the blade can be," he said quietly, "the price seems too high. But having paid the price would be much worse had it gone unrewarded at all."
"I love this sword," she admitted. "It suits me perfectly. Of course, Bonhart did not let me carry it. He knew I would try to kill him if that was the case.
"He had acquired it for me because he was going to make me fight in the Claremont arena. It is a place where one fights to the death for the amusement of the public. And, of course, bets are made.
"He forced me to take fisstech and sent me out into the arena. The men who were scheduled to fight me were warriors, soldiers, and bandits. They entered two or three at a time. I told them I did not want to kill them, that they needed to get back out. But they didn't. None of them listened. And so I killed. And I maimed. Each and every man who tried to touch me. The audiences loved it. And I felt sick to my stomach."
She looked to her feet as they walked. "I tried to kill myself that night. I had the sword at my chest, already piercing skin. All I needed to do was fall forward in one quick motion. But I didn't have the courage. And so, I remained Bonhart's plaything for another few weeks.
"It was then that he finally made me admit who I am. He had sent for a blacksmith and his instruments. They were going to pull my teeth out. I got scared. So I told him."
"I don't blame you," Geralt said. "In your place, I would've spoken, too."
Every word of her story she uttered he stored in the deep box in his mind to review later when he was alone. He couldn't possibly do it now. Not with her.
Not now.
"Once he knew for certain who I was, he seemed a little panicked. As if understanding people would never stop looking for me and that it would make his life troublesome. So he brought me to Stefan Skellen to see what the man would be willing to pay for me.
"While they met inside, they tied me up in the courtyard where I was guarded at all times. I would not know what they discussed inside had it not been for a girl who worked under Skellen. She was a mindreader, and she overheard everything they said. And she was very curious about me. So when she finally tried to enter my mind, I pushed her out like Yennefer had taught me and caught a good chunk of her thoughts in return.
"Skellen was no longer truly working for the Emperor. He wanted to kill me, for he did not want Emhyr to gain more power by marrying me. But Bonhart was pushing the price up. And… someone else was at the estate. A wizard named Rience. One of Vilgefortz's underlings. Vilgefortz understood Bonhart's character much more than Skellen did and promised if he sold me to the sorcerer, Bonhart would be allowed to watch as Vilgefortz impregnated and tortured me. Bonhart was considering that offer strongly when I escaped.
"See, when the mindreader tried to push into my head, she awakened something inside me. The Force. She began to bleed from every orifice and it soon spread to all the guards and soldiers in the courtyard. I managed to free myself, grabbed my sword, and jumped onto Kelpie's back.
"Bonhart and Skellen tried to stop me, of course." Ciri touched the scar on her cheek. "Skellen's work. He threw an orion that would have stuck in my skull had I not moved just at the right time. Kelpie leapt across a wall no horse should be able to jump and we ran. They chased me for quite some time before I lost them.
"Or rather, I jumped a few days ahead in time. I just did not know it."
Geralt felt tight in the chest; something inside it was aching pretty badly.
"Are they alive? Bonhart and Skellen?"
She shook her head, unsure how much Geralt remembered now that Yennefer had been taken out of the equation. "They are both dead. I killed Bonhart in a swordfight after I returned from the land of the Aen Elle. And Skellen was arrested by the Emperor and hanged as a traitor."
"Lucky for them."
She looked up at him, smiling sadly. "You would have killed them, yes. But you would not have made it unnecessarily painful. You are not cruel, Geralt."
"Perhaps not generally. But in this case, I probably would have been."
She took his hand again, silent as she mulled that over. "I think it's good I killed Bonhart. I needed it. To see him dead, watch the life drain from his eyes. Otherwise, I think I would still be looking over my shoulder at all times."
"Is there anyone else left besides the Hunt and Eredin that makes you look over your shoulder and wonder where they are?"
"Other than my father?" she snorted. "No. After Bonhart, I killed off anyone and everyone who had wronged me. Turns out I have a real vengeful streak."
Geralt chuckled softly despite himself. "Don't we know it."
He stalled their step and turned to her taking her face in his hands.
"You don't have to be afraid of your father or anyone else. You don't have to be alone with any of it, anymore. All right? You won't be alone any longer."
He drew her into his embrace, planting a kiss on her forehead.
She smiled, tears prickling at her eyes. She had managed to get through the Bonhart story easier than anticipated, but it had still taken a lot out of her. The things that had happened were not easy for her to admit out loud. Especially to someone else.
She wondered if Geralt now thought her weak? If he would become overprotective because of it?
She closed her eyes and let him kiss her forehead, subtly inhaling his familiar scent. It had a calming effect. She'd imagined it a lot when alone and scared in the dark, pretending she could smell him on her clothes or bedsheets. To make herself less lonely.
But the real thing was always better.
"I'm not broken," she whispered, needing him to understand that. "Just… chipped."
"I know. But I never want to be apart from you again."
"Nor I from you." They started walking again, slowly. "So, will you come with me to kill Imlerith?"
"I don't think there is a choice on that, is there?"
"You always have a choice. I would never force you into a battle."
"That's not what I meant. I meant I didn't see much choice in the strategic sense. If we leave him be, he'll make Eredin stronger. You're right about that."
She beamed, suddenly carrying a skip in her step. "I know I am. So, shall we ask Kain to join us?"
"I will not - I can not. It's not my fight, and he's not even my friend. You, however, can ask. If your... relationship allows for such favors."
"I will not ask as a favor," she said, setting her gaze on the hill up ahead. They'd been walking very far already. "But he deserves the chance to fight for his life. He is now hunted, too. Even if he doesn't realize it."
"However you choose to do it, it's up to you. Whether he believes in it or not is up to him."
"He's here somewhere." She searched the tree line with her gaze, looking for telltale clues. "Close by. I can feel him."
She turned to Geralt suddenly. "We can't tell anybody. Especially Avallac'h. He will find a way to stop me."
"Avallac'h won't find anything out from me. Nothing to worry about with him or anyone else."
Ciri nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Was it selfish of me? To ask Kain to stay knowing he misses his solitude and freedom?"
He shrugged. "Depends on how much he misses it and why he'd give it up for you."
"Would it have been better to let him go without telling him I fear for his life? Would you have if you were in my boots?"
He looked at her with a ghost of incredulity in his gaze. "He stayed because you were scared for him?"
"I think so. Unless he is secretly scared for himself." She hesitated, the look in his eyes not going amiss. "Why? Is that strange?"
"I don't think he can be easily scared for himself. Nor seek any help if he thought he was hunted. Judging by his experience - at least the parts he shared - he's very good at disappearing for years straight."
"But you think it strange he wanted to soothe my fears?"
Geralt sighed. "I don't know what to think, Ciri. I don't know what you two stand on and what's between you to judge any of his reactions."
"You looked surprised, is all." She came to a halt and turned, peering into the forested area to her right. "This way. He wouldn't have stayed so close to the path."
Geralt followed the direction she pointed to, and after they climbed halfway up the hill, the griffin emerged as if out of nowhere, flying over the trees and their heads – keep-bound. Kain was on his back and a dead deer in his talons.
They followed him with their eyes.
"I guess that wraps our tracking."
"Guess so," she smiled, trailing Griffin with her eyes. "Not bad, though, eh? My tracking skills have improved."
"You said you feel where he is," he remarked and gave her a subtly cunning look. "It's not tracking what you did. Not really in a traditional way of it.
"How come you feel it, though? This can't be… normal. Or do you feel where anyone is?"
She smirked. "I was hoping you'd let that part slide."
They turned and headed back for the path.
"No, it's not normal. It's new. And only with him. Though I can feel you, too, when you are close."
"If it's just him you can suddenly track down anywhere, I don't suppose Avallac'h should know. If Kain's already wanted by Eredin, it would be an overkill to alarm the Sage about him and your bond, as well. He won't let it slide – he will even dig into it to dissect it and find out why and how he can use it."
"He may already know. Apparently, to Avallac'h my private thoughts are no longer private. I can't know if it is a regular occurrence with him, or if it is a skill he utilizes when in a panic."
Geralt raised an eyebrow, "He can panic? I wonder what that looks like…
"But even though Yennefer doesn't get shy to peek into my mind, she's at least on our side. Avallac'h should not be allowed into your head. When you see Yennefer next, I think you should ask her for some trinket to lock him out."
"Panic makes him mean," she said, frowning in thought. "More snarky than usual.
"And maybe I will. A girl should be able to keep some things to herself."
She watched him.
"Yennefer reads your mind and it doesn't anger you?"
"It does! She doesn't care."
Ciri snickered, then sobered. "Does she read my mind?"
He shrugged, trying to restrain a smile. "I wouldn't put it past her. Nor Triss, to be honest. Any sorceress or mage."
"Mages," she scoffed. "Sneaky, shifty lot."
"When you're right, you're right."
They arrived back at the keep an hour later and were instantly met with a furious Elf.
"Zireael, where have you been?" Avallac'h demanded, sweeping towards them like a bird of prey.
"I have been spending some much needed time with my father," Ciri said calmly, shooting a significant glance Geralt's way.
"Is there a problem?" the Witcher added, folding his arms.
"The problem for all of us is how little time Zireael actually spends training," the Sage said, shooting a sharp gander her way.
"I spent most of yesterday doing just that," she argued, reaching out with one hand and, with a little bit of effort, lifted a new collection of bricks and rocks into the air, crushing them to dust when she clenched her fist.
She had to admit it was satisfying.
"See? I am visualizing Eredin's head."
Geralt smirked and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm impressed. Eredin will be, as well."
He walked past Avallac'h, heading for the keep.
Avallac'h said nothing, only pointing one long finger in the direction of the training grounds. Ciri pressed her lips together to keep from showing her amusement, and obediently headed that way.
"What were you talking about?" he demanded once they reached their destination, his blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"What?" she asked, confused.
"You and your witcher – what were you talking about? What have you been telling him?"
She stared at him, torn between incredulity and further annoyance. "I believe that's between me and Geralt."
The Elf closed the distance between them so quickly all she could do was blink. He didn't touch her, but his tall frame towered over hers in a way she recognized. Men did this when they wanted to intimidate. Dominate. She had attempted it herself on several occasions but never quite managed. Most of those who needed intimidation tended to be much taller than her.
"Have you told him about The White Frost?" Avallac'h demanded, peering down at her with icy fury. "Have you told him of our plans after The Hunt?"
She shook her head and placed a palm on his chest, gently but firmly pushing him back to give her space. He didn't move an inch. "No."
He watched her for a long moment, then when he decided she was telling the truth, relaxed slightly, his furious demeanor disappearing. "You know he would stop you," he said calmly. "He would never let you go. He is selfish like that."
She frowned subtly. "I don't think it is selfish to not want someone you love to die."
"It is if the option is the death of one person versus the death of everyone in every world," he pointed out.
Ciri looked to the ground, at her feet. "I haven't told him. And I won't." Even if it was killing her not to. She did not like keeping such things from Geralt. "I know what I must do."
Avallac'h smiled and opened his arms. She did not step into them this time, no matter how tempting it was. She just flashed him a tight smile and gestured to the space in front of them. "Shall we train?"
He noticed the change in her, as imperceptible as it was. And he hesitated, clearly disturbed. But he did not comment. He lowered his arms and nodded. "Yes. Let us begin."