Bitterness tore through Yennefer. She narrowed her eyes at Triss as she approached her, unconcerned that she'd spent the night before tending to her wounds, the warning clear in Yennefer's eyes as she slowly stepped aside. Despite Triss' obvious enthusiasm she didn't meet her eyes.

"I'll be downstairs."

With that Yennefer let them group together and then followed them.

Ciri slipped past Geralt and Triss up the stairs and met Yennefer a few steps later. "Are you going with them?"

"Apparently that's not necessary," Yennefer said loud enough to convey how happy she was about that. "You're headed to get some rest? Try that draught?"

"No. I only got up two hours ago." Ciri smirked. "Everyone keeps sending me to my room. I'm starting to take it a little personally."

"I assumed that in light of your request you'd be trying to get as much sleep as you could, when you could. Unless you've found other methods to deal with your sleeping issues in the mean time?"

The door closed below to signify that the group had left and Yennefer pushed them from her mind, smirking as she studied Ciri, paying her more thorough attention now that they were alone again.

"I've been fine these past few nights, but tonight would have been a problem," Ciri said, slipping past her up the rest of the stairs so she could put the velvet pouch away in her room.

"You are worried about them?" she asked over her shoulder. "Geralt and Triss?"

"You don't think I should be?"

Yennefer turned on the stairs and followed her the rest of the way back to her room. She pushed the door closed behind them, not wanting to give Margarita news to pass along to Triss upon her return.

"I never said that." Ciri put the pouch on the nightstand and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "It is easy to see how Triss feels about Geralt. He is harder to read."

Yennefer walked over to the dresser, vanity that came with every room considering the troop of people who ran the inn. She checked her hair, her make-up, flinching at the smudge of coal at the corner of her eye. She swiped at it to perfect it again and straightened up.

"She knows about the recent issue with Djinn?"

Ciri lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know. I have not told her. We have not actually talked much at all."

"Has he been talking to you about it?"

"Not really." Ciri watched Yennefer's reflection in the mirror. "I have tried to ask him about it but he hasn't provided much information other than that he still does not remember you like I do. Like the rest of us do." Ciri frowned, imagining that must be very painful for her. "I'm sorry, Yennefer."

"Not your fault," Yennefer mused, bestowing Ciri with a smile as she moved to sit down next to her. She patted her hand to reassure her all was okay. "Now, before I got side-tracked… What's tonight? What would have happened?"

"I am out of the sleeping draught Mousesack gave me. It means Eredin would have entered my mind when I fell asleep and coaxed me into using my powers. He succeeded once before on Skellige. I'd rather not have a repeat of that."

"I thought it might have been something else you were referring to."

Yennefer seemed to have missed quite a bit and had even less time to catch up.

"Does he always try to reach out to you?"

"Yes. And he always manages. It has been happening most nights for the past two years. But I have never given in to his temptations before. Not until that night on Skellige."

"I thought it was some twisted anniversary or some kind of means for him to fully take over you."

That's what he'd been trying to do, and unfortunately, if they failed at some point, he might succeed unless Ciri decided to end it herself. Yennefer hoped it would never come to that point.

"Temptations? What kind of temptations does he lure you with?"

Ciri shrugged. "A reality where I no longer have to be on the run. Where I can use my powers as I see fit instead of keeping them all locked away.

"I suppose it was not so much temptation that made me jump back at Skellige, but fear. Kain popped into my mind. Eredin saw him. I did not want him to become a target on The Hunt's ever-growing list, so I...transported us away. While still asleep."

"Thereby giving him what he wanted." Yennefer wasn't meaning to chide her or pointing it out as a fault, but mere fact. It's pretty much what she'd said herself. "You shared this with Kain? The reason for the teleportation?"

"Kind of had to considering I literally threw him across the ocean. He handled it better than I thought he would."

A smirk twisted onto Yennefer's mouth and she smothered the urge to give a short laugh. Ciri was more like Yennefer without even knowing it.

"They always do." She removed the hand from Ciri's, touching the tip of her index to Ciri's chin. "It also seems as though he is handling you really well."

Ciri frowned, perplexed. "What does that mean? Handling me really well?"

"It means he seems to be handling your life really well."

"Oh. I suppose. He is a warrior; their lives are hardly easy either."

"And yet, he's still here, taking on more for someone he has only known a handful of days. Aside from your pretexts, why do you think that is?"

"If Eredin gets me, this world will end," Ciri said. "Anyone who wants to survive should fight.

"And… And we're friends."

"No one even knows that the world is at risk because of what Eredin wants. If they did we'd have an army at our disposal and not just six warriors. Seven." Yennefer had lost count. "Is that all that you are?"

Ciri sighed. "I like him. I am not sure he likes me the same way."

"He has eyes. Of course he does. Unless he's into men?"

Ciri blinked. "I don't think so. I don't believe I asked. Is it rude?"

"Only if he is prideful. What's your feel?"

"I don't know. How can one tell?"

"Does he ever look at your bosoms? Have you kissed?"

"No. And no." Ciri was silent a moment, thinking. "Which is nice, but confusing. I can always tell when men fancy me because, well, they try their hardest to fuck me. Even if I do not want to. Kain is not like that."

The redhead sorceress led the group to the fountain outside of Passiflora. At this hour, no one was around, and she looked satisfied with that.

She invited them to approach the fountain. "Let's begin. Watch the water, we can't let anything go unnoticed."

Geralt and Kain nodded, and she held her hands over the surface and began to chant. Kain saw the glow around her hands where her magic concentrated for the spell. The water bubbled, worried, darkened a bit. But they didn't see anything in there, because Triss suddenly staggered, feeling faint, and careened into Geralt's arms. He caught and held her, calling her name.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose, holding on to Geralt with her other hand. She rose her eyes to him, sorrowful and ashamed, then cast a glance at the fountain. "I'm so sorry… I don't suppose the spell will come right. Please, forgive me, Geralt, I let you down, after all."

"No, no, Triss, it's fine," Geralt said, embracing her, trying to make sure she wouldn't faint. "I understand. Yennefer was right, you're not ready. It's all right. We'll go back, you will rest."

"But… we have to find Philippa!" she argued. "We have to do it now, we can't wait."

"How do you propose we do it?" Geralt asked. "Yennefer and Margarita can do it."

Triss looked to Kain, her eyes narrowing pensively. Calculating. "You can do magic, can't you, witcher?"

"Some druid magic," Kain said.

Geralt looked from her to Kain, frowning. Triss detached from him and stepped to Kain producing a feather. It was an owl feather.

"How good are your tracking skills?" she asked.

Kain peered at the feather, contemplating it a moment. It felt she was testing him. As though the fainting was partially for show.

He shrugged, casting a glance at Geralt, then at her. "It's not exact science, but I can try."

She smiled and held the feather out to him. "Thank you. It would be a great help. We can't afford to lose any more time."

Kain turned the feather in his fingers, strolling a few steps away from them, focusing on ridding his mind of thoughts – alarmed thoughts based on the instinct that he was being set up. Gradually, he descended into a quiet state of mind where he began to sense something. There were flashes of a woman, her image flickered in Kain's mind like on a water surface. He sensed her power, caught the smell of faint perfume and feathers; and then felt a pull. It was weak, unsteady, as if the target was closed or resisting. She probably was. She didn't strike him as a sorceress that liked to be found when she didn't feel like it.

Without a word, Kain started to walk, following the pull.

"Kain?" Geralt called, but Triss stopped him with a gesture.

"Let's go," she said quietly. "He's doing it."

They followed; there was a small smile playing on her lips that Geralt didn't see.

Yennefer scowled at the way Ciri had so casually mentioned the fact that men tried to rape her. Yennefer had her own experiences with those attempts but to hear her girl had suffered the same angered her. "Then he is of the good few. Have you ever lain with anyone?"

That question, for some reason, caught Ciri entirely off guard. "I… Why do you ask?"

"Curiosity. You're a grown woman. You have desires." Yennefer paused to paint her a bit of a picture. "You and Avallac'h have been alone for many years, correct? Close quarters. Sometimes when two people are in a certain setting, they start to feel things – things that extend past emotional barriers."

Ciri stared at Yennefer, dumbfounded until realization struck and she finally understood what she was insinuating.

"No! Yennefer!" her cheeks flushed. "I would never… He would never… That has never been our relationship."

Yennefer settled her hand on top of Ciri's, smiling softly at her almost childish reaction to the question. She'd been away from her so long they never actually got to have this talk properly. Oh, there had been some insinuations, but that had been it and it had never been fitting. "You've never felt attracted to him? I'm assuming you've seen him naked at least once in your travels."

"Avallac'h?!" Ciri had to make sure they were talking about the same elf. "No. I've never felt attracted to him. Is that…" Ciri lowered her voice as if suspecting someone might have their ear pressed to the bedroom door. "Is that what you all think? Does Geralt think…?"

"No one has said that to me but your relationship is a hard one to decipher and for a time I suspected that to be the case. Until Kain came into the picture and the undercurrents changed. We're desirous creatures, Ciri. No one is immune and anyone that says they are haven't figured out how they feel yet. It took me decades."

"Well, I assure you I have never felt any such thing for Avallac'h. I don't think he has such emotions, anymore. He is too old." Ciri dared a look at Yennefer. "How old were you when you, you know… Your first time?"

"Young. Too young." Yennefer didn't bother with the age as it didn't matter and wasn't something that she recalled fondly. "Elves are complicated creatures. Avallac'h seems to feel some sense of ownership over you, a possessiveness that I've only seen stem from some kind of sexual connection."

Ciri waved that off. "I look like the woman he loved. The woman who left him for another. That is all."

"And that's why he talks down to you?"

"He talks down to me because I am human," Ciri said. "As he does with all humans. The Aen Elle are quite racist, as it turns out. Eredin is the same. So was Auberon."

"Guess that's tolerable. Elves are whoresons." Can't change prejudice like that, she reflected. "His feeling aside—have you ever felt an attraction to him? To his body? Anyone's body?"

"I already told you no," Ciri said, nudging Yennefer's shoulder with her own. "Not Avallac'h. As for others… sure. I have felt attracted to people before."

"And you acted on those feelings?"

"Some. Well, they acted, I suppose. I was just… along for the ride."

From the sounds of it, her physical interactions could use work, Yennefer noted. "And Kain? You've an attraction?"

Ciri shifted uncomfortably beside her. "Yes. But like I said, it's one-sided."

"And you know this, because? From the sound of it, you two haven't actually talked about it. The only sure way to know if something is one-sided is to act on it."

"He doesn't touch me," Ciri said as if that closed the case. "And he has never attempted to get me naked." She looked at Yennefer again. "How did you know Geralt liked you?"

"I didn't, not until we'd consummated." Unforgettable and world shifting. "As I said, the only way you'll know if it's anything or if there is anything there is to act on it. Subtly if you wish. Pop a button on your blouse…" Not that her new armor allowed for that kind of manipulation. "Suggest a bath… Together. Kiss him."

Ciri wasn't sure how to do any of that subtly. And she was scared what would happen should he reject her advances. How would she react?

"Suppose I will have to summon up some courage."

"You're one of the most courageous people I know." Yennefer squeezed her hand gently in support. "Go in to it the same way you do your battles. With confidence."

Ciri smiled a little. "I have been trained for battle. I have not been trained for… love."

"Who has?"

Yennefer wasn't. She'd been taught the exact opposite as a child and although she'd been presented with the concepts of love she could never bring herself to accept it because she hardly understood it and feared it.

It was only now, after the Djinn, that Yennefer was convinced of its existence within herself.

"We learn and grow with those who are fortunate to be part of our lives. Who we choose. There's no sure way to be trained for it, you have to be open to receive it. You have to let it in."

"And if he rejects me?" Ciri asked quietly. "How will I be able to spend every day with him after that?"

"With your head held high." Yennefer lifted Ciri's hand off the mattress and into her lap, holding it tightly. "And if it happens and you feel the urge to cry – you find me."

Ciri nodded, allowing herself to rest her head on Yennefer's shoulder. She really had missed her. "Thank you."

"Always." Yennefer freed one hand and brought it to the side of Ciri's face, stroking lightly, hopeful that the action was comforting—not just to her—but to Ciri.

It had been a hard week on all of them.

Something in the back of Geralt's mind wasn't sitting right with how it turned out, but he couldn't quite think of what was wrong. Kain seemed to be in some kind of a trance – he wasn't speaking to them or explaining his instinct, he was moving silently through the streets as if there was a string stretching from him to a certain place. Like in one of the legends Geralt had heard a couple of times, about a labyrinth with a monster in its middle and how to find a way out of it.

Triss was ahead of Geralt, trotting after Gwyncath. He wondered if she suddenly felt better, or she had been fine when she didn't do magic. Either way, she didn't fall back or let him believe she needed a breather.

Kain followed some tangled path, leading them in loops through the streets and back alleys, stopping a few times next to some doors and houses Geralt didn't know. Those stops were short and could seem as uncertainty, like the hounds following a fox's trail on a hunt. His final stop happened on the square in front of the stairs leading down to the doors of the bathhouse.

"Dijkstra," Geralt muttered. "I should have known from the start."

"We've got to hurry," Triss said, hurrying down the stairs. "We might not be late yet."

Geralt hesitated, touching a hand to Kain's shoulder. "You all right?"

He looked at Gealt with clear eyes and gave him the feather. "We have to get in there, something's happening with that mage."

Inside was a chaos, plants and flowers scattered on the floors along with shattered pots and vases, some benches broken, some walls cracked. From the bath rooms they heard voices, one of them louder than the others.

Dijkstra.

"Surrender!" he yelled from somewhere close behind the walls. "This place is a maze, witch! You'll never get out!"

Triss shot Geralt a frightened look. "We have to help her."

He nodded, and they went in, Kain and Geralt reaching for their swords.

Several guards were moving deeper into the bath room, their weapons at ready; some had swords, some carried crossbows, some had clubs raised over their shoulders. A rather silly choice, considering the woman standing in the doorway of the main bathing room was one of the most powerful sorceresses. Even blinded, she was capable of anticipating their advancements and dropped fireballs and destructive spells in the right places. People scattered, flew up and across the hall, hitting walls and columns like ragdolls. Some groaned and rolled over the floor in pain, some were dead as they landed.

"Fools! You fucking cretins!" Dijkstra raged, pressing into the wall, which was a bit comical with his girth. "At her! GET HER!"

"We'll handle this," Geralt told him.

Djikstra's eyes narrowed, his mouth creased in despise, "No fucking way! The sorceress stays here! Who the fuck is that with you?"

"He's a witcher just like I am," Geralt said. "We have to go in there, Dijkstra. No time to lose. Unless you're tired of living."

He rolled his eyes and waved a hand impatiently. "Then fucking go, you two, witchers! Those stupid fucks can't do shit!"

"It's all right, I'll stay here," Triss said, touching Geralt's arm. "In case she'll try to escape this way."

Geralt nodded, and gestured for Kain to go forth. They waited out another blast of magic the mage landed on a group of three that almost neared her, then went in quietly, sticking to shadows. Almost all the lights were gone, and it was convenient.

Her figure shifted in the bathing room doorway and disappeared inside it. Geralt stopped in a thick shadow and reached in his pocket for a potion. He hated it, but needed it to get this done. It zinged through his veins like a burning venom, temporarily stripping him of vision and senses while his body adjusted. When it did, Geralt blinked through the shades and colors, and the room came through like in a dissolving black mist. He heard her, heard the drops of water plopping down on the stony floors, heard footfalls and groans and faintly beating hearts of all the fallen guards Dijkstra had hired.

Kain was already gone. Geralt hurried after him.

Inside the room there was a huge round tub that used to have water in it, but now it was drained. The middle tile was missing, opening a way with a ladder leading down. Kain didn't wait for Geralt and descended, his senses sharpening in anticipation of magical attacks. He sensed the woman's magic everywhere – more acutely after tracking her by the feather. In the back of his mind, he worried she could sense him, too – it wasn't a nice thought – but now it was too late. Kain could have regretted using his powers to track the mage, but he didn't. One thing everyone was right about was that they were short on time.

When Kain's feet touched the ground, he found himself in the basement with locks on the grid fences. Looked like it used to be a treasury before a part of it was destroyed by explosions.

He felt the pull of her magic still, and it was getting stronger. As well as the resistance: a few figures moved toward him from the shadows, swords bared. Three guards with blank faces, their eyes were strangely glowing with magic – her magic.

Kain's mind jumped back to the man Ciri killed – the crossbow man, scared and screaming when he came out of his momentary possession. He didn't deserve to die.

Nor did any of the people surrounding him.

Kain closed his eyes momentarily, focusing on the power within and making a quick job of it. Due to his sharpened focus from the tracking magic, he felt it ready to act. He sheathed his sword, kicking the closest guard in the stomach, sending him stumbling back, then threw his hands forth. The force thrust out of them and hit the guards like a hurricane push; they flew backwards hitting the walls and grids, fell down on the floor.

Kain didn't wait for them to get up or come to as he proceeded further. Geralt was hot on his heels, looking around.

"Nice," he commented. "Do you know where she is? Have you seen where she went?"

"I know where to look," Kain confirmed, leading the way.

A huge troll was guarding a hole that must have been made by a bomb. Kain knew it led to the sewers.

"Witcherses no pastgo," the troll said, shaking his huge head. "Perty birdy nosay."

"Dammit, she cast a spell on him, too," Geralt muttered, and clucked his tongue in regret. Kain knew he pondered killing him. For a moment there, he did. Then he set his eyes on the troll. "She's hurt, haven't you noticed? We need to help her."

"Birdy no pastgo say," the troll argued, his giant hands flailing to aid expressiveness. "Bart no let pastgo."

"Have you ever been in pain, Bart?" Geralt asked. "Some severe, unrelenting pain that couldn't stop?"

"Hmm…" Bart scowled – for as much as a troll could scowl – and stared under his feet, scratching his head. "Ache… pain… aye. Bart once old drowner eat."

"She's in pain like she ate a hundred old drowners," Geralt said.

"Oh…" Bart's eyes narrowed, he scratched his head again. "Bart no want… Drowner make pain very bad…"

"Let us pass, and we will help her," Geralt promised. "Please, Bart, help us help her."

"Oh… um… Bart let pastgo," the troll decided. "Witcherses help."

"Thank you," Geralt said, and turned to Kain. "Let's go."

Geralt looked at the twisted corridors and tunnels, then at Kain who jumped after him. He looked around like a hound that sought the trail, then started running. Geralt followed, drawing his sword in case there were drowners on their way, but they found none – it wasn't too far where they eventually found her.

"Philippa, please, I want to help you," Geralt called through the fence into an open room where four tunnels met. There was a set of stairs, Geralt glimpsed, that led to a walk-around platform where she currently stood, her arms raised, her fingertips sparkling with magic.

"Oh yeah?" she called inside Geralt's head, making him wince. "Help me die? Not today! Get out of here if you want to live! I want offer twice."

"Philippa, don't do this!" he argued, and ventured through the grit fence gate into the room. "Let me lead you out of here, away from him and his men. Your friends are waiting for us."

"Don't you come any closer!" she yelled, then made a pass, then another with her hands; magic flickered, thundered and flashed down, twirling in a marvelous dance of colors. In the middle of it rose a golem, and flames licked through the cracks on his clay body, enveloping him and breathing life into his frame. The golem roared and threw a fireball Geralt's way.

He cursed and threw himself from its path, cursing as he did.

"You will regret coming after me!" Philippa screamed from her perch. The golem roared again and the ground beneath him glowed red and flashed in flames that ran toward Geralt like trickles of lava.

Kain didn't immediately follow Geralt into the room; he took his time standing still, savoring the moment to collect his strength in one focused spot and make it work like he did back in Kaer Morhen forest. He touched a hand to the ground and let power flow down through his palm into the ground, past the layers of rocks and soil and waters, deep into the earth where he felt the mighty flow of the nature's power that connected to his. It streamed up and through him like one of the potions Geralt took, and when Kain opened his eyes a moment later, the vision was changed. The time flow was changed, and he had no coherent thoughts left – his body was the force and it knew what to do, how to move and where to hit.

He went in, raising an arm to shield Geralt from the fire before he could roll away. The underground waters ran deep, but Kain felt them, every molecule of them that began to seep upwards and through the surface of the ground they stood on. The magical flames hissed like a ball of angry snakes, steam thickened and coiled coming up like a curtain.

A fountain of water burst through the ground beneath the fire golem like a short-lived geyser, dowsing the creature and putting out its flame.

Geralt didn't miss his chance and was already dashing around the unsteady thing, slashing and dicing with his sword. The golem didn't stand for long and began to fall apart. The magic drained from it, and Geralt rushed up the stairs to catch Philippa before she spat another spell out. Her mouth was moving, she was chanting something they couldn't make out, but then Geralt was behind her.

As she spun to thrust a magical punch with her hands aiming at him, Kain sent his own impulse shoving her off her feet. She didn't expect it and let out a scream falling down. Geralt caught her, then swiftly closed his hands around her wrists like vice, and shook her slightly.

"I'm not your enemy, Philippa!" he yelled in her face. "Let me help you!"

Dazed as he came to and let the additional magic drain from him, Kain touched a hand to the closest wall to keep himself upright while he caught his breath and senses.

"What do you want?" Philippa screamed at Geralt; even blindfolded, she seemed to be piercing him with her stare. He imagined it blazing as he recalled it from her better days. "To torment me? To watch others do so?"

"I need your help," Geralt said, keeping his voice lower than she called for.

She stopped fighting, stilling, and by that stance, she resembled a hound, too: she listened, felt for another one's presence, probed the air as if trying to smell him out.

"What help? Who is this with you?"

"A witcher friend," Geralt said. "I need your help to protect Ciri."

She pondered, then yanked her hands from his grip. Geralt didn't fight her.

"Betray me," she threatened, rubbing her wrists, "and I—"

"I won't. Come with us. Triss is waiting. We'll get you out of here."

She scoffed, but started to walk, making Geralt wonder once again how exactly she could see without her eyes under that blindfold. She lingered while passing by Kain, turned her head to him as if to "look" at him, and her lips twitched as if in a simper. Then she kept on going, and they followed behind like bodyguards.

"Deepest apologies," said the huge man that owned the establishment once they were back in the bathing rooms, "but the lady will come with me." The wording was polite, but his demeanor said he wasn't taking any no for an answer.

"I've no time for this, Dijkstra," Geralt winced. "Get out of my way." Philippa herself didn't seem impressed, nor anyhow interested in the scene, as if it didn't concern her in the slightest.

"I've no quarrel with you, Geralt, but Phil and I have lots to discuss," the man called Dijkstra said, and turned his flaming stare toward the sorceress who folded her arms defiantly. "Remember those assassins you sent after me, dear Phil?" he demanded. "A grave error. Such matters ought to be take care of personally. As I will now demonstrate."

"I need her," Geralt said, his stare as hard as Dijkstra's, and they clashed like swords.

"I don't give a rotten rat's ass," Dijkstra responded. "I've awaited this moment for an eternity and then some, so excuse me, but I care about your problems as much as I could care about snows of Mahakam. Philippa will come with me and answer for all courtesies she's bestowed me."

Geralt regarded him with a heavy glower, then spread his arms shortly, "Always knew the value of information, Dijkstra."

"Which is why I don't believe you have anything I don't already know," the man shrugged.

"The Nilfgaard Emperor wasn't able to sway the Trade Corporation," Geralt said, folding his arms.

Dijkstra pondered a second, his eyebrows raising. "Opposition's nibbling at his arse, eh? Seems like that flame shall get dowsed before it dances on any more graves."

"His daughter has returned," the witcher continued, sending a cold thrill down Kain's spine. "The Emperor wants to abdicate, give her the throne."

"Cirilla?" Dijkstra looked almost shocked. "Impossible. This…" He pondered. "This could shift the tide of war… But what does she have to do with it?" He glared at Philippa who still looked unimpressed and even bored.

"She'll help us protect Ciri from the Wild Hunt," Geralt said.

Dijkstra thought about it, shifting his calculating gaze from the witcher to the mage and back, then waved a hand. "Go. Before I change my mind."

Triss was waiting at the door. She beamed when she saw them coming from the dark of the rooms.

"Hello, Triss," Philippa said.

Triss approached her, seemingly pondered whether to hug her, but then decided against it and settled for a pat on the blinded witch's shoulder. "I'm so glad you're safe now. Are you all right?"

"I've been better," Philippa scoffed.

"I'll get you out of here," Triss said.

Geralt frowned, "Are you sure you can pull it off? At the fountain—"

"It's all right, Geralt," Triss said, all business now. No trace of the faint damsel she had been in his arms earlier. "I've got this. Thanks for your help." She looked at Kain, her lips widened in a smile. "Both of you. We'll be at the inn."

They walked away, Triss raised her arms opening a portal. The torrent of magic twirled in front of them and swallowed them both before disappearing with a whoosh of air.

Geralt sighed deeply and turned to Kain. "I guess we're walking back."

"Better so than that," Kain said, gesturing for where the portal vanished.

Geralt considered him a moment and smiled, amused. "I knew there was a reason I was beginning to like you."

After a few more minutes of contented silence, conversational commotion from inside the quiet Inn drew Yennefer's attention. She eased off the mattress, moved for the door, pausing as Philippa stared back at her when she opened it. Only she wasn't really looking at Yennefer given she was wearing a blindfold. Her lip curled into a distinctive snarl of displeasure but she was ushered along and into the room tended to by Margarita and Triss.

"Where's Geralt and Kain?"

Yennefer peered behind them to make sure they weren't close, although she doubted they'd have come up this way and their energies were nowhere to be found.

"On their way," Triss explained needlessly.

It also hadn't escaped Yennefer that Triss was moving a lot better than she had when she left. Yennefer narrowed her eyes speculatively and moved to shadow Triss toward the doorframe.

She refused to give them the chance to hold some secret council if she could help it. The Lodge was known for their scheming and if Philippa didn't already know that Ciri was here, it would only be a matter of time before she sniffed her out and started cooking up ultimatums to obtain her help.

Yennefer rose and Ciri immediately understood why. She, too, had sensed the portal opening.

She followed in the sorceress' wake, silent, and remained outside the doorway of Margarita's room, watching over Yennefer's shoulder.

They had found Philippa. Though Ciri could see no wounds or bruises on her skin, she still seemed in bad shape. Exhausted. And her eyes… or lack thereof. Ciri supposed she should have felt sympathetic. Only, at the moment, she could not manage it.

"Are you alright, Triss?"

The redhead turned to look at her, seemingly surprised by the blonde girl's appearance. But she smiled warmly. "I am, darling. I am just fine."

"Cirilla," Philippa greeted, drawing out her name as though it tasted bitter and a lot sweet. Yennefer detested that tone in her voice. "I'd say you look well, darling, but from the smell of things – I'd say life hasn't been any easier on you since the last we spoke."

She wrinkled her nose with distaste meant to offend and turned her back on the two standing in the door. Triss said nothing, slinking over to them, shielding them from Philippa.

"She's been captive—"

Yennefer raised a hand to shut down her excuse for her usual manner. Triss conceded.

"She's hungry. She needs to bathe."

Yennefer scoffed. "Luxuries only afforded to our allies."

Triss's eyes widened and then narrowed, her cheeks flushing as Philippa once more turned to regard them, to peer at them through whatever remained behind that blindfold.

"My patience has never been very lenient where you're concerned, Yennefer, and Geralt and his interesting Witcher friend have both been exceedingly helpful. I'd hate to recede my word because you've yet to learn to hold your tongue."

Her words were choice. A Witcher was a Witcher and in a sorceress' eyes they were rarely interesting.

"So you know why you're here."

"Of course. Cirillia needs me. She's always needed me. You've only ever been loath to admit it."

Ciri moved to stand beside Yennefer instead of behind, eyeing the blind sorceress with caution. "The world needs us, Madam Eilhart," she corrected her as softly as she was able. "Do not make the mistake in thinking I am the victim. I am the weapon."

She wanted them all to understand this. This was not about saving Ciri's life, but everyone else's.

"Our mission is to ensure those who seek to harness my power for themselves and their own selfish gain, are unable to do so."

Philippa shifted from where she stood between Margarita and Triss like their appointed Queen. There was no smile on her face and with the strip off cloth across her eyes it was hard to tell what she was thinking. Yennefer knew, however, that it was of one bearing.

"And how do you plan to guarantee that, young Cirillia? We defeat The Wild Hunt and all your problems with containment up and disappear? Had you not had such abhorrent teaching as a child," Triss eyes drifted in Philippa's direction and Yennefer's hands fisted, "—this wouldn't be an issue now." Triss wasn't offended as that wasn't meant to be an offense toward her. They both knew that.

Ciri's eyes narrowed. "How is that?"

"Had you accepted my offer when first presented, you'd have had the force of The Lodge behind you and Eredin would have been disposed of. You might even have been happy."

"I would have been a whore and incubator," Ciri hissed, her temper immediately flaring. "Don't pretend otherwise. And as I recall it, it was not an offer, but an expectation. An order. There would have been no happiness for me there."

"Let us not go into all this right away," Triss ventured in a soft, pacifying voice, placing herself between the two sorceresses and Yennefer with Ciri. "We are all very tired and battled, we all need a bit of time to recuperate. Let us put the talks on hold and all get our rest." She shot a meaningful look Philippa and Margarita's way.

Philippa shrugged, "Fine with me."

Triss nodded and turned to Yennefer and Ciri, looking apologetic. "Let us leave it for later. I need to help Margarita take care of Philippa while our witchers are on their way. If it's all right with you?" She smiled, looking between them hopefully.

"Try to still her poisonous tongue while you are at it," Ciri snarled, turning and pushing put of the doorway, heading for the stairs. She needed a drink. She assumed Yennefer would follow, unless she was in need of rest as well.

Yennefer had no other choice but to step back, to give The Lodge what they requested and the quiet that they wanted to themselves as she wasn't going to get anything out of them. Philippa had crossed a line and Triss was playing the friendly conciliatory in hopes of buying herself time. Yennefer could smell the excited desperation on her. Something had happened while they were out.

Ciri went one way and Yennefer went the other.

She headed back to Ciri's room, eased onto the mattress, legs crossed and focused on the room beside her, on temporarily dissociating from her body so that she could eavesdrop on their conversation.

The door hadn't been closed two minutes and Yennefer could hear Triss already in the throes of excitement.

"What you saw him being capable of doing was only negligible. He's able to control his powers, he embraces it and there is so many avenues that he uses—"

"You're gushing, Triss," Philippa commented. Margarita had found a basin and a washcloth and was trying to help her remove dried blood and dirt. "Is Geralt no longer of interest to you?"

Yennefer bristled and briefly lost the concentrated hold on her magic. She returned to her body, irritated that she'd let that simple comment get to her. She focused again.

They'd already moved on and Yennefer had missed her answer. She could suspect though. There was no way she was over him and even if she had been playing the damsel in distress, manipulating situations or otherwise, he had a tendency of overlooking what she did wrong in favor of her innocence and their history.

Yennefer hardly understood it most the time.

"He is quite handsome," Margarita commented.

"He has a strong energy," Philippa added.

"He's also more competent with his powers than Ciri at present," Triss stated. "He has no defining loyalties and from what I understand he's been alone. I haven't spent much alone time with him but he seems reasonable enough and he might be more open to negotiation."

"Cirillia hasn't much matured," Philippa stated.

Yennefer knew that her girl was a state of contention for the sorceress, that Philippa was so used to winning, that Yennefer couldn't see her letting her go without a fight. She could feel her need to reign Ciri in, to finally bend her to her will as she'd always wanted. Ciri was unfinished business and more importantly she'd escaped. The Lodge was a lot like The Wild Hunt in that entitlement. Which made the fact that Philippa hadn't outright attacked Yennefer a bit of a surprise. She said that if she ever saw Yennefer again that she'd be put to death, that she was their official enemy and that she'd betrayed them.

Yennefer had, and surely would again, if it meant that Ciri was safe.

"We don't need Ciri," Triss implored, shuffling to sit down in front of her long-time mentor and would-be friend. She'd proved her loyalty enough times for the woman to meet her gaze head on – even without her actual eyes. "He's strong, he's capable and with the right kind of molding, he could be better than we ever dreamed."

There had been a time that Triss had advocated, pressed Ciri to join the Lodge, to marry their selected prince and to make them their magical babies with the same kind of enthusiasm she was using now, as if she'd discovered a miracle.

"I want to speak to this boy myself," Philippa stated.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Triss retorted.

Margarita had been listening attentively, stepping away from Philippa to set aside the basin so she could help her remove her grimy clothes and inspect the rest of her body. She hadn't been injured much apparently.

"And why's that?"

"As I said, I haven't managed much time alone with him and if we were to approach him with an abrasive prospect – he'd run. Leave it to me."

Philippa's features hardly changed, but for an instant her head tipped upward, as if she could sense they weren't alone and had only now realized.

"I'm hungry," she said.

"I'll get you something from the kitchen," Triss offered, hesitantly as if she too had realized something and then shifted from her position, heading for the door. Yennefer returned to her body, slightly drained and a lot tired.

"Your magic is quite impressive," Geralt remarked when he and Kain walked down the street from the bathhouse. The sun was shining on their backs. "Even for the sorceresses. Maybe it wasn't wise to showcase it in front of them. Especially Philippa."

"Ciri warned me about the same, but it was the best way to aid the fight."

"It was effective, no doubt," Geralt agreed. His face still showed the signs of a recently consumed potion. It faded slowly. He considered Kain as they walked and gestured to his unbuckled jacket. "Pretty hot in it."

"I wasn't going to leave Skellige for a while," Kain reminded. "The armorer is working on the new set."

"Do you regret leaving with us?"

"No, I don't regret the decisions made."

"Good," he approved. "What made you choose to join us?"

Kain frowned pensively. "A number of reasons. You needed all the help you could get, and Ciri told me about the Hunt and what they fight for. A threat like that can't be ignored."

"What about Ciri?"

"What about her?"

He grimaced in fake annoyance. "You can read me perfectly well, Gwyncath, maybe better than most. So don't elude. What about Ciri?"

Kain sighed, reflecting for a bit, then gave a shrug. "I don't know. I wasn't trying to pick a name for it. I'm not... I wasn't looking for anything. Nor am I now. The way she kept finding me felt strange even for me. It makes you think there's some special reason that higher forces want it that way for some purpose. I was resisting it because it's utterly opposite of how I tried to live, but it changes nothing. I do realize that I have to be here and fight for this cause because it feels right. I used to trust that life would put me in the right place at the right time where I'm needed most. I guess it's happening."

"I see," Geralt stared contemplatively ahead. "It does make a lot of sense. I'm not a druid or magician or a seer, but I feel that, too. You're with us for a reason. And I'm glad you are." He cast a look at Kain. "What about Ciri?"

Kain chuckled, shaking his head. "She's stubborn, reckless, headstrong and still like a child in many things - because she didn't get the luxury of growing up among her family. She's been through a lot, and even though she doesn't tell most of it, one could guess. It's a miracle she is sane after all of it, and I admire her strength and her character. I hold Ciri in high regard, same as you. But if you ask about other aspects... She's worth so much, Geralt, and I'm not sure I could be that. Or..."

"You don't feel ready," Geralt concluded in a quiet voice.

Kain shook his head.

"You did love Morénn?"

"It wasn't an eternal, undying love when the two understand and feel each other without words and need to be together forever, Geralt. But it's not about her. It's about every single experience I had and how different they were, and what different things they taught me. I don't… I never wanted to fall in love. I tried to avoid it the best I could."

"I think I understand perfectly," Geralt said in the same gentle voice. "It's all right. It only gets cured by the feeling itself when that feeling is too strong to ignore." His gaze was faraway and he looked a tad entranced.

He blinked it away and gave Kain a smile. "You'll figure it out when the time comes."

"I know."

They walked the small remaining part of the way in silence, both content with it.

"I have to talk to Avallac'h," Geralt said as they approached the door of the inn. "And then we can all have some lunch."

"All right."

He pulled the door open, and they went in.