Kain and Ciri rode a bit further around the village and across the bridge to the city southern gate. There were four guards with no work on their hands.

"Ye better have a letter of safe conduct," one of them said, placing himself in their way.

The other laughed, "How many arses ye have to travel on four mounts? Hmph, people these days."

"Hoods off," the third commanded stepping from behind his companions. "And prepare the papers."

They pulled the hoods off; Ciri's hair spilt around her shoulders and framed her face, somewhat masking the scar. The guards scrutinized them in the light of torches, visibly disappointed.

"What's with the letters?" Kain asked. "We haven't been told about that - we merely follow orders delivering the horses meant for Sigi Reuven. Know him?"

The guards' enthusiasm faltered, they exchanged uncertain glances.

"The fuck he does with horses?" the third guard asked and brought his torch closer to Ciri's face.

"The heck should we know," Kain said. "Our job is to deliver the order. But rumor has it the good sir Sigi got some interest in the races at Oxenfurt. These are our best ones."

"Oh yeah?" the second observed Roach with itching doubt. "Ye say they're fast? I'd look at that."

"Hey, the wench has a scar!" the third announced, pointing a finger.

"So ploughin' what, look at the damn hair!" the first argued, however his hand crept toward the sword.

"She got it from Kelpie, a skittish mare," Kain said. "The bitch swayed her head and got her with the bits metal end. There was blood like it was war. She dropped the reins and we barely caught the darn beast."

The fourth scoffed. "I always knew horses were malicious shits."

"No pass without the letters," the first said.

"I'd like to see you folks face Sigi that you made wait," Kain said. "Cause him any more hassle with letters and whatnot and I bet yer sweet arses ye be sorry ye stand here tonight."

"Aw shut up!" the second waved his metal-gloved hand. "Not much ye know, smartarse."

Kain leaned forth in his saddle, a cunning smile on his lips. "I do know that while you're collecting your future trouble with Sigi here stalling his goods, yer friends at the Glory Gate are apprehending some high-end criminal with ashen hair that they boasted to get rewarded beyond their dreams for. I guess that gate indeed brings glory tonight. Shame it's not yous who's gettin it."

They exchanged another set of glances, panic and anxiety rising like waves in a stormy sea.

"Go on, get through, ye stupid shits," the second roared at them, scaring Roach; his armor clanging as he propelled his arms to usher them through. "We got work to do here instead of dealin' with yer nonsense."

They didn't wait to be asked twice and trotted up the street to Dandelion's inn while the guards hurried to the Eastern gate to catch some glory by the tail.

"Kain The Deceiver," Ciri smirked once the guards fell away and they continued down the street. "I am impressed. You are a skilled liar."

Kain shifted on Onyx's back, uncomfortable. "I'm not proud of it."

"I think in this case, with people who wish to kill you, it is alright."

"Everything has a price," Kain said contemplatively. "Every deceit, every person manipulated or hurt, every bit of magic misused, everything comes back to its owner."

"Shit will come to us either way, Kain," Ciri replied softly. "It has since our birth. Before we were even capable of making such decisions. Don't be so hard on yourself."

Kain simpered without much mirth looking over at her. "The day you decide to not suffer over your enemies' sins, I'll consider your proposal to not brood over mine."

Ciri glared. "I thought we'd already established you are much more emotionally stable than I, Archer? And older." She shrugged teasingly as if that alone should have better prepared him for handling such feelings.

"Mm. Thirteen years. Too old for you, princess."

"Oh, that is not true. People marry their daughters off to ancient men all the time."

"Didn't take you for a marrying kind."

"I'm not. When my grandmother tried to have me marry, I ran away to Brokilon."

Kain laughed, slipping off Onyx as they neared the inn's stable. "Of all places."

"Well, it was not entirely intentional to get lost in those woods." Ciri followed his example and slipped off Kelpie, handing her over to a very nervous stable hand before they went inside.

"Keep your head down so your hair falls over your cheeks," Kain instructed before they went for the door past the few inn's guests that had stepped out for a pipe smoke.

Inside, Priscilla was singing about raven stormy locks - her best ballad yet - and no one paid Ciri and Kain more mind than a fleeting glance as they snuck toward the stairs.

Ciri immediately went for her room where she hoped the sleeping draughts were still residing. She found them on the nightstand in the pouch Yennefer had given to her and tied it to her belt.

Kain left her to it and turned to the room that had been his. It was a bit cold and abandoned. A huge part of him still felt the need to go where Griffin was. Nothing felt better than when he was next to Kain and there was nothing to worry about for the next few hours.

Ciri's door opened and Dandelion peered inside.

"Ciri!" He exclaimed as though not having expected to see her there. "Priscilla said she thought she saw you. Are you alright? Unharmed?"

Ciri nodded, smiling affectionately. "I am. Tired, but fine."

"Oh, then you should get some sleep."

"Geralt and Yennefer – they made it here?"

Dandelion snorted. "Of course. Geralt and Her Enchanting Highness are in his room as we speak, washing up and eating."

"Good." Then Ciri did not have to worry about them for a few hours. Now that she had her sleeping draughts she might even be able to get some sleep.

Dandelion left and Ciri downed one of the potions, not even pulling her boots off before she collapsed atop the bed.

Yennefer watched Geralt eat with a touch of envy, raising her hand once more, drawing one of the soup bowls toward her so that she could eat and bathe at the same time.

The sooner she slept, the better.

"Did he torture you?"

"Chained me up with arms spread, and that was about it." Geralt directed a gauging look at her, swallowing. "You? What happened to you there? You were... saying strange things back there."

"A lot," Yennefer offered, bringing the bowl to her lips. "He made me think he'd killed you."

Geralt raised his eyebrows, but had to admit to himself he was hardly surprised. "Hoping to gain what, exactly?"

"A swift death," Yennefer supplied bitterly, focusing on slurping the hot soup, not wanting to make a mess in the water. "And information on Ciri."

Geralt frowned, "What else would he summon us for. What did he want to hear from you? I was merely chided for not fulfilling my job of bringing her. Then he said she'd come herself now that we were there. And then - hello, dungeon."

"Basically the same. Only he wanted to know where she was and I refused to tell him. He punished me for that."

"By lying to you about my death? And you believed him?"

"He formulated proof to give his word merit."

Geralt hemmed, chewing on a piece of potato, peering at her expectantly.

Yennefer slurped the soup, making a point of ignoring the heat on her tongue, and carefully set the bowl to float on the water when she was done.

"They took your hands. At least what they said were your hands."

"Hm." Geralt helped himself to another mouthful.

"Ciri's back here, safe," Dandelion said, stepping in, making a show of looking anywhere but Yennefer's way. "I hope she'll rest."

"Kain?" Geralt asked.

"Priscilla saw both, but he's not in her room, if that's what you're interested in."

Geralt smirked and drank.

"What is the plan now?" the troubadour asked. "Do we flee Novigrad before the Hunt gets back or..."

"We still need to explore our options," Geralt said.

"What options? Which direction to flee? Wasn't it Skellige?"

"We entertain the idea of staying to fight."

Dandelion paled, fell back against the door behind him. "Are you insane? They'll rather cut you all to pieces and sell to the elves than fight them."

"That's why I said we should explore our options," Geralt said, finishing his meat.

Yennefer pushed aside the bowl as Dandelion entered again to inform them of Ciri's return. She could breathe easier knowing that the girl was back.

"But before then. We need rest." She glared at the troubadour and extended a finger in his direction.

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he took a step back.

"Dare I say I agree!" he yelped.

Yennefer smiled softly, saw him turn on his heels and head out the way he came.

She scrubbed her hands across her arms, washed her face and then slowly stood, climbing out of the bath, reaching for the sheet nearby to dry off.

"You should speak to Triss at your earliest convenience."

"I shall." Geralt finished his ale and watched her idly while she dried herself off. "You can rest, I'll settle it all myself."

"You mean the Lodge?"

"Yes. And whatever comes next. Kain's idea about Dijkstra is worth following. He and I will manage."

"And while you do that, Ciri and I do what? Take care of the Emperor?"

"You two rest," Geralt reminded her, his mouth twitched in the smallest of smiles. "You can't do anything right now before you sleep. So lie down and sleep."

Yennefer wrapped the towel around herself and ambled toward the mattress, climbing beneath the covers. "You should also sleep. I wasn't the only one in those jails, Geralt."

"I'm a witcher, Yennefer," Geralt said, mildly amused, and strapped the sword belt on. "I can go on without rest for a long while. I did no heavy lifting in that jail. I opened no portals and endured no torments. I shall be fine. Worry about yourself for a change."

He gave her a small smile and left the room.

Yennefer stared at the spot he'd been a minute ago, sinking down into the pillows, unable to contain the sadness she felt.

If Geralt had been himself he'd have realized how traumatizing this day was for her, that the idea of her sanity had been a mere touch away from breaking.

That it had been there, so close that she could taste it and could still taste it brimming. And yet, instead of comforting her as Yennefer knew he would have, he'd walked out, left her with her thoughts, with the images of what she thought was his hands and the grief.

A tear squeezed from her eye, followed by another, and another, until it seemed it was all she did until eventual darkness claimed her.

Ciri was sleeping peacefully when Geralt came into her room on quiet feet. Smiling, he approached and pulled the covers up to her chin, then lit her fireplace to warm her room a bit. He didn't dare kiss her head to not wake her. He took a long moment to look at her calm face, then went to get Kain.

He emerged from the door, a tray in his hands, when Geralt raised his hand to open it.

"Dandelion," Kain said. "I think he was under the impression we were all starved."

"Weren't you?"

Kain simpered, leading the way downstairs. "Maybe a little. I didn't quite realize it until he brought the food."

"That's true for all of us. Ciri and Yennefer will be resting now, and we have someone to visit."

"I figured."

Triss appeared in the corridor as they headed for the stairs. "Geralt," she said, casting a fleeting glance Kain's way, then threw her arms around Geralt's neck, squeezing. "I'm so happy you're unharmed! It's horrible what could have happened…" She pulled back, a bit alarmed, "Is Ciri all right?"

"She is resting."

"Oh, good. Yennefer?"

"Same. Tired, worried and now resting."

"I see. It's good. I'm glad you're all safe. And… Geralt, I believe we have to talk – all of us – and discuss our newest ordeal."

"I have nothing to tell them, yet, Triss. We have to take care of one thing first."

She squinted with suspicion. "You can count on my help, Geralt, you know it. I can go with you."

"I know, and I appreciate it. But I can do this one."

Triss rose on her tiptoes and kissed Geralt's lips. "Be careful." She went upstairs to the Ruby Suite the Lodge was occupying now that Avallac'h was no longer there.

People in the city were on the edge. Kain and Geralt had to resort to different narrow dirty streets to avoid patrols and ever-watchful citizens that couldn't sleep and preferred to roam around looking for something they didn't know about. Priests of Eternal Fire preached on all corners once in a long time gathering huge crowds that buzzed, cried, wailed and complained. Some prayed, their lips moving, while staring at the priests pleadingly as if their further fates depended on the yelling figures in red robes. Endless patrols passed through the crowds, new flyers were being put on the walls and doors; many fluttered across the pavement like dead moths.

Dijkstra wasn't alone. It felt like Geralt was going through something that had already happened before as they crept through the corridor – still battered since Philippa's outburst – and the hushed voices from the library reached him.

"If we don't resolve this soon, we're all gonna be there at the stake or on the sharp end of those freaking bastards' swords and peaks."

"I am well aware of that," the drawling but angry voice of Sigi responded. "You need to calm and trust me. After all, you're still around. Not thanks to solely your own hard work."

"Let me move in and drag that coward from his hole," the other one hissed. "A few rearrangements to his goldy locks and he's gonna sing the tune we wanna hear. It all can be solved within minutes. How much of the precious time left are you willing to waste, Sigi?"

"None. I told you I'm on it. If you're eager to join Cleaver's ashes at the stake, you can go drag shit out of holes. But if you want to live, you better let me work."

"Aw, fuck you and your work. Look at where it got us. Who the fuck gonna shovel all this crap away when you let the ploughin priests and hunters roam our streets and take out all the forces we coulda used? Huh? What kind of work is this?"

"That's precisely what we need to discuss," Geralt said, strolling in and past the tall dark bookshelves with Kain in tow. "Greetins, Dijkstra. Francis."

Dijkstra didn't seem surprised at all, while Francis Bedlam glared in the poor candlelight like an infuriated foglet cornered in his own cave.

"You better clean up after yourself, Witcher," Bedlam said. "Because if you flee and leave us up to our ears in your shit, ye gonna be sorry, I swear to all gods and ploughing flames out there, ye hear me?"

"Francis," Sigi interrupted, a small smile of superiority tugging at his lips. "We will resolve it now if you leave us and make sure no band disturbs a certain Inn without any proper orders. Please, do that in the name of our fruitful relationship."

"Fruitful, my arse," Bedlam grumbled and pushed past Geralt heading for the door.

As soon as the library doors swung closed behind him, and his boots echoed further and further down the corridor, Dijkstra dropped his smile in favor of a grim glower.

"Took your sweet time, Witchers. Now, what is there to do with you and your little princess that managed to ruin my city? How did she bring the Hunt here? I thought you were taking care of it at your fucking keep. What were you doing there? Picking daisies?"

Geralt sighed folding his arms and looked at Djisktra with a tired annoyance. "We were fighting an army you can't even imagine. We lost people, we almost died – all of us – because of how few of us there was. You refused your help, so you have no right to complain. It wasn't our doing to direct them here. They did it all on their own. I have no way of knowing how they track her, but they must have deduced this somehow."

"How they did it is secondary to what we should do to save your precious city," Kain said, leaning a shoulder against the bookshelf.

Dijkstra gave him a skeptical once-over. "You even a witcher or a mage?"

"Both. What difference does it make?"

"Because it seems we need all kinds of freaks on our side of the barricades." He flicked his small, sharp eyes between them. "So how the hell you suggest we save Novigrad?"

Though Ciri's sleep was peaceful, she woke what had to be a few hours later. It was still dark outside. She felt a sense of unease and decided she needed to check on Geralt and Yennefer in the next room.

Only when she got there, the Witcher was nowhere in sight. The sorceress, however, was asleep like Ciri herself had been minutes earlier. Or at least it looked as though she was.

Ciri crept close and lay down behind her on the bed, letting her front mold to Yennefer's back and resting an arm over her hip. When Ciri was her student Yennefer would never have allowed such a thing. She had been colder then, as if scared to get close.

Ciri didn't get the sense she was frightened of that anymore. Not with her. So she rested comfortably beside the sorceress, content to be in her presence.

Yennefer sensed immediately who it was that had crept in behind her, an arm snaking from beneath the covers, hand coming to rest upon Ciri's.

"Have you slept well?" Yennefer asked without opening her eyes or turning to regard her, content for the time to just be able to lie with one another for a while.

"Yes," Ciri answered softly. "Did I wake you? I did not mean to."

Yennefer patted her hand reassuringly to let Ciri know she didn't mind the company.

"I've had more than sufficient rest, my sweet. Have Geralt and Kain returned?"

"Returned from where? I haven't seen either."

Yennefer lifted her hand gently and shifted so that she could roll onto her back.

"Geralt said he'd take his— his Kain to tend to the few that he had to do. That was last night." She wasn't too worried and wasn't going to allow herself to worry yet. "How are you feeling? Prepared to deal with the illustrious Emperor?"

"It's still night," Ciri murmured, glancing towards the window. The sun had yet to rise. "I am alright. And I do not think I can ever be fully prepared. But I am willing. That is a start. Though I have no clothes fit to visit an emperor."

It was indeed night because as soon as Yennefer's gaze fixed on the lack of light from outside she could feel weariness close in, as if she'd been deluding herself.

"There's no need to worry about fashion or the usual formalities. Emhyr needs to see who you are now, who you've been required to be for the last two years."

"Did he hurt you? While you were there – did he hurt you?"

"Very much," Yennefer stated. "Don't worry yourself about that. It's nothing that can't and won't heal."

She shifted the hand so that it had come to rest on Ciri's hair, lovely locks that were always reminding of her adoptive father's, providing who she truly belonged to.

Ciri's expression turned dark. "What did he do? I need to know."

"He made me think he'd killed Geralt."

Yennefer couldn't think of a worse outcome and even the mere mention had brought tears to her eyes again.

"I'm sorry," Ciri whispered, the information fueling her hatred for the man who dared call himself her father.

"Not your fault." Yennefer combed her fingers over the top of her head, through her hair gently and drew her closer to Yennefer's side. "You can't help who wants you and the degrees they're willing to go to."

"No. But I can hate them for it." Ciri closed her eyes, comforted by Yennefer's presence and enjoying being beside her.

"That you can," Yennefer mused. She'd come to dislike the Emperor immensely. Not that she'd ever really liked him. She'd tolerated him for resources and what he could do for his daughter. "Don't let it eat you up. You're far too young for such bitterness."

"And yet I have so much of it. Enough to last me several lifetimes. Certain people say it would be better if I could just forgive, and they may be right. But I am not sure I can. Not yet."

"No one can make you forgive until you're ready." Yennefer knew that well enough herself. "Just don't let it ruin you."

"I'll try not to," Ciri smiled into her hair. "Sleep, mother. I will watch over you."

She needed her rest if she were to portal them to Vizima later.

Yennefer smiled at Ciri's thoughtfulness. "You need the sleep as much I do, my surprise. Close your eyes. Dream."

She paused mid thought.

"You still have of the remedy I made you?"

"Yes. I had some just a few hours ago. It keeps Him at bay," Ciri murmured, obediently closing her eyes even if she was unsure she should sleep. It seemed an unfair thing to do while Geralt and Kain were off taking care of business.

"Good."

Yennefer continued to stroke her hair, enjoying the modest gesture and soon allowed her own eyes to close so that she could drift off beside her.

"A grand plan," Dijkstra commented, looking either bored or preoccupied. "In theory. It is a damned lot of work. And all of it for me. What are you going to do? Skip to another part of the world?"

Geralt watched him with narrowed eyes. "What do you want?"

"Something else needs to be done," the spy said. "Something that your plan can't work without. Tell me, Witcher, what stands in the way of magic in our lovely city?"

"It's not just the Eternal Flame cult that you're implying, is it?"

"Of course not - those bitches are a bunch of cowards unable to sleep soundly while some can practice magic that they can't do. The biggest obstacle is not those priests, nor the pathetic Witch Hunters. It's Radovid, and you've known that for a while. So what do you think now? That regicide is too dirty for your clean hands or you finally understand how this shit hole works?"

"You know perfectly well I can't get involved in such matters," Geralt said, displeased and uncomfortable.

"Well, what can I say to you, Witcher, other than congratulations on your epic failure to protect the people you were created to protect, as well as your own daughter. They all will die, your daughter will be taken away from you forever, the city will fall, and the they will decide to finish the job and conquer the rest. And all because you stepped back when it was crucial to act. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal," Geralt grimaced.

"And what about you?" Sigi considered Kain like he were a speck of shit stuck to his new shoe. "Are you shitting yourself the same way your new friend is? That your hands are suddenly clean after all the spying and assassinations performed in the name of that monstrous forest?" He sneered nastily. "I've been doing my job for a long time, boy, I can put pieces together until they fit. You're one of those infamous Brokilon agents. None of you were ever caught - alive. Your dyed hair doesn't fool me, either."

"What do you propose?" Kain asked. "That I murder Radovid in the name of saving Ciri and Novigrad?"

"All I want from you is a little help. Neither of you has to kill him. Merely help get him where we need him. And that is it. Then we can gather the forces and save everyone. Is that so bad to pay with one life for so many?" He bored his eyes into Kain. "A spy to a spy, you at least should understand, Cath. Your name, isn't it."

"If Radovid dies," Geralt said, pulling Sigi's attention from Kain, "what then? We still have the cultists and their crazy mob of hunters and followers."

"You leave that to me," Dijkstra smirked. "I know exactly how to sway crazy mobs. All I need from you two is your word that you will do your part. Do I have it?"

"Hm." Scowling deeply, Geralt threw Kain a quick grim look. "Fine. We'll help."

"Excellent," Sigi said. "Leave the rest to me. We will need dimeritium, and much more than the witch hunters possess. Find a way to get us more, and it's one problem less with the spectral portals."

"We'll see what we can do," Kain said.

"Good. Meet me at Passiflora after sunset. We shall have things to discuss. Now get the hell out of here, it's time for work."

Dandelion poured Erveluce into three cups standing on the counter. Even Kain didn't reject the offering and sipped.

"Sigi told the truth, I used to be a spy," he said in response to their curious looks. "Not all the drinking required on missions was a pretense."

"Makes sense," the poet grinned. "Especially since your taste is sharpened to the higher probe.

"So that's why we weren't arrested," he added. "I thought it was a strange luck."

"Dijkstra was expecting me," Geralt said. "He ordered your inn untouched to deal with us personally."

"He does like to deal with us personally," Dandelion grimaced and drank. "What now?"

"We meet him again to discuss details. Before that, we have to get some sleep. And figure out where to get more dimeritium."

"We had some left at Kaer Morhen," Kain said. "In the boxes. We can pick them up if Ciri helps with her jumping talents."

"Right," Geralt grumbled. "Another way for them to track her. Can she even use her power with dimeritium?"

"I believe she can," Kain said. "But we need to check it. We didn't have a chance to."

"All right, one thing at a time," Geralt said. "She needs rest. And we need to talk to the Lodge."

"Even without the pardon, there is sense in offering them to help us," Kain said.

"Of course," Dandelion said. "Novigrad people will be grateful. No more witch hunts."

"Without that pardon, there is nothing to stop the hunts and executions," Geralt reasoned. "We do need that pardon. And Fringilla."

"What are we celebrating?" Triss asked, almost snuggling up to Geralt with her arm hooking onto his. She shot a look at Dandelion and he silently produced another cup and poured wine. She took a sip and smiled, content.

"Too early to celebrate," Geralt said. "We're just drinking. To wash away the meeting we're back from."

"Oh," she narrowed her eyes briefly. "You went to the bathhouse. How did it go?"

"We'll need another meeting to determine that," Geralt said. "But he's willing to help us fight for the city."

"What's the price?"

Geralt sighed. "Radovid."

Triss sipped her wine, contemplating. "It could be expected," she said. "He wants Redania. And now he can get it with your swords."

"I'm not killing him for Dijkstra," Geralt said. "He wants me to help guide him where they want him."

"Will you?"

Geralt shrugged and drank. Dandelion quietly refilled the cups, watching attentively.

"Ciri and Yennefer are still here?" Kain asked.

"Oh yes, sleeping, I presume," Dandelion said, casting a glance at the table where Zoltan and his game partners roared in laughter.

"Were they going somewhere?" Triss asked, looking from one witcher to another. "Alone?"

"They wanted to negotiate with the Emperor."

Triss stared at Geralt, "The pardon?"

He nodded, "Among other things."

"Haven't you been kept prisoners just some hours ago?" She looked at Kain with a glimpse of hope. "At least you should understand how risky it is to send them on their own."

"We are aware," he said. "But the less he knows about our abilities the better. Should something happen to prevent their return, we'll do what we can."

"But we cannot predict what can happen before it does," Geralt added and downed his wine. Dandelion refilled again.

"Yennefer is a mighty mage," the troubadour said, "and Ciri can do things no one else heard about. They should be fine, right?"

"Right," said Geralt.

"Not necessarily," said Triss, observing the men sternly. "He might not like magic, but doesn't feel shy about keeping sorcerers as hired labor. Slaves, more like."

Geralt shrugged languidly, "Not much we can do about anything in advance, Triss. They will have to manage. No one else can find a way to placate Emhyr but his flesh and blood he's been looking for."

Triss sighed, setting down her empty cup. "We have to talk to Philippa and Rita. We need them for the battle. If you deliberately keep them out, it won't end well. You both know we need them."

"We know," Geralt sipped his Erveluce and smacked his lips in pleasure.

"But we do need Ciri's help with him if you want your friend back," Kain said. "We believe he has Fringilla in his cell."

"And without at least teasing the Emperor with what he wants we cannot get her out legally," Geralt said, "which needs to be so."

"Gods," Dandelion muttered, drinking. "When does all this horror end…"

"I'm sorry, Dandelion. You should've chosen your friends better," Geralt cracked a smile and downed his wine.

"I chose the best," Dandelion said sourly, "but there is always a higher price on those."

Ciri didn't sleep, but when she was almost certain Yennefer had fallen back into slumber, she carefully pulled away and left. She was hungry. The dinner at Fealinn's had been interrupted and most of the pie remained untouched.

She padded downstairs where she found Dandelion, Triss, and the Witchers in conversation.

She slipped in under Geralt's arm and leaned against his side.

"Where have you been?"

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Geralt reprimanded, embracing her with one arm while Triss still clung to another.

"Naughty girl," Dandelion commented and clucked his tongue.

"Am I?" Ciri questioned with an impish gleam in her eyes and an amused smile on her lips. "Where have you been?"

"Bathhouse," Kain said and finished his wine.

"And? Can we count on Djikstra's help?"

"Most likely," Geralt said. "It's better for him to save the city rather than lose it."

"It's the best city in the world," Dandelion said. "Losing it is like... like the end of the world."

"Which will come if we lose against The Hunt," Ciri reminded him, and then when she caught the forlorn expression on Dandelion's face, amended: "Sorry."

"We haven't lost yet," Geralt reminded. "Let's not lament the city before we do all we are going to do to prevent it from happening." He turned to Triss, "We need more dimeritium, but there is no normal way of getting it in time."

"Yes, I can help with that," she said. "Powder?"

"Yes, for the bombs."

"Where will you get it from?" Ciri asked Triss. "Surely no one in the city is willing to co-operate with sorceresses at the moment?"

"Kovir," Triss smiled. "They will gladly cooperate with me there. Though I would need help with heavy lifting." She looked inquiringly between Geralt and Kain.

They both nodded. "Sure," Geralt said.

"I'll have the basement cleaned," Dandelion said. "Zoltan will make the bombs."

"Good," Geralt said. "We should bring more from the keep."

"Perhaps we better leave those boxes for when we need them again," Kain suggested. "If Triss gets us enough, we don't have to tap into that stash."

"The pretty Witcher is right," Triss smiled brilliantly, tipping a wink Kain's way. "We should have enough."

Geralt shrugged. "One trip less is fine with me. I hate portals."

"When will you leave?" Ciri looked between the three of them. "When it dawns?"

"It would be wise to sleep first," Dandelion said cautiously. "It's going to be a long day, you all need to rest."

"He's right," Triss said, looking from Geralt to Kain. "I can help to make less sleep more fruitful. It will restore you in less time. Fully herbal solution and a bit of good old muscle relaxation."

Geralt pondered, casting a gander at his brother who gave an imperceptible could-be look.

"Thank you, Triss," Geralt conceded and placed a kiss on her cheek. She managed to turn her head ever so slightly to catch the kiss with the corner of her mouth.

"It's the least I can do."

Ciri's eyes narrowed ever so slightly because she knew damned well Yennefer would not appreciate the display Triss was putting on with Geralt. Was this always the way with love? Two people fighting over the third? It seemed exhausting and painful.

"Fealinn would be able to do it better," she murmured under her breath, mostly for Kain's ears.

"What is it, dear?" Triss asked, leaning into the counter to see Ciri past Geralt.

"Nothing." Ciri forced a smile and signaled it was a private matter between Kain and her, not wishing to hurt Triss's feelings by making her think she was doubting her capabilities. Ciri wasn't. Just her motives.

Triss displayed a hearty smile and cast another look that traveled from Geralt to Kain. "You shouldn't lose any more time, boys," she said, tugging lightly at Geralt's arm. "The sooner you can rest the better for the city."

Geralt hemmed in agreement and thanked Dandelion for the wine.

"Oh, it's nothing, my dear friends," the poet grinned. "You go now. I'll explain everything to Zoltan when he's... free."

Triss tugged Geralt toward the stairs and threw a luring glance back over her shoulder to Kain. "Don't be long."

"Yennefer's shackles are in her saddlebag," Kain told Ciri when the Witcher and the sorceress reached the stairs. "Dimeritium. They need to be delivered to Fey or a master armorer you could trust. Once you know what you want - a bracelet or two or a necklace."

Ciri scowled after Triss and Geralt before Kain caught her attention.

"I don't know anyone I can currently trust," she mused. "I'll have to do some research I suppose."

"Then Fey it is. She knows who can be trusted."

Ciri nodded. "I'll take it to her now while Yennefer still sleeps. If we are lucky we can find someone to work on it while we visit the emperor."

"She knows who can be the best for the job. If you can wear it - who knows, perhaps the Hunt's magic won't work on you.

"I better go upstairs: don't want to make her believe I'm avoiding her. It attracts more attention."

Ciri took his hand in hers before he could leave, stalling his progress momentarily.

"Um, Triss' hands are known to... wander," Ciri warned. "At least in Geralt's case. I would not be surprised if it was the same with you."

Kain smiled, amused. "I have never lived as a saint, either."

"Oh." Ciri knew, of course. She had never considered him anything remotely saint-like. Good and decent, yes. But that to her had nothing to do with his past sexual exploits.

And now... She was not sure what he was saying. That he wouldn't mind should Triss' hands find their way beneath his sheets?

That stung, and the fact it did so made Ciri furiously angry with herself.

She let go of his hand and backed towards the door. "I'll go fetch those chains. See you later."

Kain watched her go, somewhat dumbfounded. Her emotions flared, and he sensed it, but she removed herself too quickly for him to probe for any specific details. Nor did he feel he had the right.

He walked along the wall and went up the stairs to his room.

In the stables, Ciri located Yennefer's saddlebag and the chains inside.

Sorceresses tended to recoil from dimeritium as though they burned their flesh, but Ciri felt no such discomfort.

She peered around the stable to make sure the workers had gone for the night before she wrapped the chain around one wrist, sensing whether it felt different or not. It didn't. It didn't feel like her magic was suppressed either but she couldn't be sure. Not until she tried.

Ciri wrapped the other end of the chain around her free wrist, closed her eyes, and focused on Fealinn, disappearing in a flash of green.

Fealinn nearly dropped the bowl when Ciri materialized in the center of the kitchen. "Oh gods, my heart! Ciri… Are you all right? What happened?"

Ciri winced. "Sorry. I did not mean to startle you. But I require your assistance again and there are guards stationed at every entrance and exit to the city."

"Oh, of course," Fealinn said, putting the bowl on the shelf and wiping her hands on the kitchen towel. "What is it?"

Ciri held up her hands to show Fealinn the chains, unwrapping them from around her wrists. "Do you know anyone who could transform these chains and cuffs into jewelry for me?"

Fealinn's eyes widened a bit. "Dimeritium, isn't it? Where did you get those?" She looked at Ciri in mild worry. "Have you robbed the Witch Hunters?"

Ciri laughed softly. "No, nothing like that. They were on Yennefer in Emhyr's dungeon. Kain and I got her and Geralt out."

"Oh dear gods, Ciri! Dungeon? Not that it's surprising, considering the Emperor's ways... I hope they are all right."

She sifted through a few boxes in the pantry and came out with a cloth. She held it out to Ciri.

"Put it here. Touching it does me not much good."

"Nature's way?" Ciri asked, placing the chain and cuffs neatly on the cloth and wrapping it for her. "Or is it some curse that gives dimeritium its power?"

"Everything in nature is balance," Fealinn said, accepting the bundle gingerly. "It has a natural ability to dim magic in people, it weakens mages and distorts the concentration and power needed for a person to perform a spell. It has to do with its magnetic properties."

"Why do you think it does not affect me the same way?"

"You're the Elder Blood," Fealinn said. "No one knows much about your kind here in this world, for your ancestry comes from another. But magic you possess must be too powerful for dimeritium to affect it or disbalance it much. You are a mystery, Ciri. And alas, I am not a Sage."

"And the sage I do have is not willing to share much," Ciri said, smiling crookedly.

"Thank you for your help, Fealinn. You are a treasure."

"I'm glad I can help. I shall take it to my contacts and see what I can do. I know a couple of people who can work with it. They would never sell you out, either. Non-humans, you see."

"I appreciate it. I hope you will remember me if there is ever anything I can do for you in return."

The elf smiled, "I appreciate it. Is there anything else I can do? A massage? I bet there must be a lot on your mind, given the circumstances."

"I'm not sure I have the time," Ciri said, peering out the window. "Yennefer and I are going back to Emhyr come morning."

"Perhaps the best would be to get some sleep, then. The sun will rise in a few hours."

Ciri nodded. "I shall make my way back and try to do just that. And leave you to do the same. Goodnight, Fealinn."

"Stay safe, Ciri."

"Your solution probably won't work on me."

Triss smiled, discarding his shirt on the chair while Geralt lay down on the bed on his stomach. "Not the potion, no," she agreed. "But this one will help you sleep and rest."

She straddled his legs, rubbing the ointment between her palms, and began to rub it in, massaging his muscles from neck and shoulders to his arms and his back. The Witcher closed his eyes and smelled mint, red pepper, chamomile and some other herbs he couldn't quite identify for the mixture was well done and proved to be a good fit. After a bit, his skin felt cool and warm at the same time, which added to the pleasure of her skillful touch.

"I could go with Yennefer and Ciri to Vizima," she offered. "To make sure they don't get ambushed by whatever mages serve Emhyr now."

"I believe they will be all right for as long as he doesn't smell any trickery."

"Aren't you worried he would try to lock Ciri up?"

"I worry all the time, Triss. Doesn't mean I can make it any better with my interference. I figure I have to trust them. Ciri has to meet him. And I would love to be there with her and have her back, but I have things I have to fulfill on my part."

"Oh, Geralt," she sighed, kneading her fingers along his spine so every nerve uncoiled beneath them. "It's going to be all right. I do not intend to alarm you. I only wish to help. You can count on me, don't forget."

"I never do."

"Is that true about Fringilla?"

"Kain said he saw someone in the cells that could be her. He doesn't know her, but given she was in the shackles…"

"I see. It has to be her, then. She was at his court before we lost touch."

"Ciri and Yennefer will get her out of there."

"Good. That would make Philippa more compliant."

Geralt hemmed wistfully, "After everything we have already done, she should be."

"You know her, Geralt. She's bitter and harsh right now, which is understandable for the situation our kind finds itself in these days."

"You still have enough political weight in Kovir to get the dimeritium?"

"Of course. I have allies there. They offered me a place at the court. It still could be mine."

"What keeps you here? Ciri?"

"And you. I couldn't live in peace until I know she is safe and you are… happier."

"I wish you could allow yourself to be safe, Triss. You deserve that court."

He felt her lean in and her cool lips over his ear, "I don't want to be away when my place is here for now. Where you and Ciri are. She is my little sister. Always has been."

Geralt made a quiet sound of acknowledgement, almost drifting off. He was truly tired, and sleep was welcome. He had to get up and go to his room, but it was so hard to move…

Just another few minutes… and I'll go…

Triss came in smelling of some herbal ointment; Kain smelled mint that appeared to be more prominent. There were a few more… Pepper?

She showcased a round wooden jar with the ointment. "Geralt is probably dreaming already. Your turn. I have a potion to ensure your good sleep – you don't have mutations, so it should work." She produced a small vial from her pocket and set it on the table next to the ointment.

"What is in it?" Kain asked.

"Nothing unnatural," Triss smiled. "All herbal, perfectly safe for a druid. Mint, chamomile, cinnamon and cloves."

She poured water into a cup from the pitcher, then added the potion from her vial and held it to him. He took the cup and drank. Triss observed approvingly and opened the ointment jar, scooping some with her fingers and rubbing it between her hands.

Kain added another log to the fireplace, then discarded his shirt upon Triss's instructions and lay down much like Geralt earlier.

She wasn't Fealinn, but her hands didn't lack the skill, he noted. She knew where and how to relieve the muscle tension and how to make it pleasant enough to lull and calm. He closed his eyes, but tried to maintain his guard. Her attempts at probing his mind didn't go unnoticed.

"How does it feel?" she asked. "To have a brother?"

"Strange and not at the same time. Hard to explain. Do you have siblings?"

"No, but there are people who I deem family, some sorceresses I got close with. Yennefer among them. And Ciri is my little sister. I loved her the same day we met. She was such a lovely child. I wish I could have helped her more back then."

"You did all you could."

"Her… issue was unusual," Triss trailed off, adding more ointment to her hands as she moved lower on his back. "Her unbidden gift was too strong, making her and people around her suffer. She said things that instilled fear, and I felt a bit helpless." She paused, indulging in her massage, then asked after a bit, "Has she had any trouble with sleep while with you?"

"She has bad dreams at times, but we all do."

Triss pondered it and how he didn't skip a beat, although she sensed he wasn't saying things as they were. "She used to speak in her sleep. Does it happen?"

"I don't keep watch while she sleeps."

"Oh… of course. I'm sorry. It's a bit intrusive of me. I merely thought you were… together."

"We spent a few nights in the same caves and rooms. But she didn't have any issues."

"It's a relief," Triss said, smiling as if he could see her, rubbing the balm into his waist, her thumbs pressing on each side of the spine along the nerve endings. "Do you like her?"

"What is not to like?"

"Aw, you know what I mean. Of course she is precious. But what is she to you? You changed your life for her. Why?"

Kain contemplated a moment. "I could and wanted to help."

"She likes you not for just helping her, Kain. You two… it's like a miracle. Destiny."

"I don't meditate on destiny much."

"What else would you call it?"

"Why would I want to call anything by any name?"

Triss shrugged wistfully, gliding her hands up his back to his shoulders. "Our minds like order, I suppose. They like to know what is going on. How this or that is called."

"I have no such issues."

She giggled softly. "You and Geralt are more alike than one would think."

"So I've been told."

Ciri returned to her room at the inn a few seconds later, feeling almost giddy from getting to use her power several times in the same day. It had been a while.

She peered out into the hallway, but it was quiet. Nothing to see, nothing to report, so she lay down atop her bed and attempted to get some more rest.

Triss had Kain turn over and straddled his thighs, leaning over him to start from the shoulders and chest. Gliding strategically, ever so slightly, against him, she studied his face, noting more and more features that connected to Geralt.

"You do look alike," she murmured. "Even with your dyed hair."

"Or you merely like to see it. New facts shape your sight."

She laughed. "Oh, a smart one, but I'm afraid it has solely to do with your blood. Even though Geralt is mutated, you two haven't lost that little bond."

"And what of it?"

"Mm," she leaned over him, her hands gliding up his stomach to his chest as she did. He felt her breath tickle his chin and mouth. She smelled of raspberry and mint. "You two look too dangerous for every unguarded heart," she whispered, her lips teasing his with feather touch.

Tempted to open his eyes, he realized his eyelids felt too heavy - the potion was beginning to pull him to sleep. His mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile. "I've never heard of a sorceress with an unguarded heart."

"There might be many things you haven't heard of yet, Witcher mage."

He felt the warmth of her touch on his lips; he felt her hands, her curling fingers on his sides; fire crackled far away, and her hair tickled his chest…

He slept.