Radovid sent some troops ahead while he picked another route for his own procession. By the time the King of Redania accompanied by the witchers and a significant unit of soldiers and Witch Hunters arrived to the bridge, there were already spiked fences in place and Redanian soldiers armed with crossbows in positions behind them.

Kain thought it was ridiculous to believe any of these could protect them from an enraged enchantress.

"Where is that house?" Radovid asked.

"The last door on the other side of the bridge," Geralt repeated.

"Jacob! Godrid! Jouke! Take a few men and secure the bridge - make sure there are no civilians to interfere and no witnesses." Radovid turned to the witchers and the men surrounding them. "Ekbert, Caspar, you and your units secure the rear and make sure no one slips out. Kill the Witchers."

"That's how you thank people for their service?" Geralt asked.

"It's how I punish those who irritate me," Radovid played back. "You know too much, you impede me too often, you're arrogant, and you've involved another witcher. You're an inconvenience to me, Geralt of Rivia. I've killed men for less." He turned to the unit commanders, "Follow me. And you," he gestured indicating the group surrounding the witchers, "take care of it somewhere quiet. Make it quick."

He went ahead leading his group of soldiers and Witch Hunters through the tall arch onto the bridge.

The Chief of Radovid's guard was approaching with a nasty sneer, sliding a thumb along the blade of his sword. "Any last words?"

Kain flicked his wrist, and the Chief's arm twisted and the sword fell out, clattering against the pavement; it happened so quickly he uttered a grunt instead of a scream. His eyes widened as he stared at his arm as if it betrayed him. Next moment he flew backwards from Geralt's Aard and hit the wall forcefully. His eyes rolled and he slid down.

The soldiers who saw that barely had any time to digest what was happening before the screams "Free the Witcher! Death to Radovid!" sounded and the guards that had dashed to the witchers with their weapons drawn fell down with bolts in their necks. Geralt glimpsed Roche's face in one of the figures running out of a side street, but then Kain pushed the Witcher's sword against his chest, and Geralt joined in the skirmish. More Blue Stripes poured onto the main street, and swords clashed and clattered, people screamed in rage and pain alike.

The man who had been carrying the witchers' swords joined the Chief at the wall, knocked out. Kain dexterously slipped the sword belt onto his shoulder and threw a hand toward the fences with the barricades of sand sacks at them. Flames roared up, leaping all over the sacks and enveloping the wooden spikes so quickly people dashed every which way. It brought the needed disarray into the Redanian forces, and Blue Stripes had no difficulty gaining an upper hand.

"Radovid," Geralt said, grasping Kain's shoulder.

They ran for the bridge with Roche right behind them, skirting around the burning fences and fighting people. More of guards and Witch Hunters put themselves in their way, and more blood spilt and flowed between the pebbles of the pavement. They ran and slashed and pushed and stabbed and ran forward. When they reached the end of the bridge, the huge grid of the gate was lowered, and Radovid was like a trapped rat. His face held no more traces of disdain and pride he had demonstrated earlier. He was like a drowning man, desperate to grasp onto a straw. When he glimpsed Geralt, he dashed sideways and rapped his fists on the door.

"Open up! In the name of the King! I demand you open right now!"

The door opened inward, making him nearly lose his balance. Instead of dashing in, he staggered back from the doorway, his mouth agape, fear oozing from the widened eyes. After him, strolled out Philippa. She was smiling serenely.

"You needed merely to ask," she murmured.

"No," whispered Radovid staring at her like a rabbit at the teeth of a snarling bear. "No… no… no…"

"Trosglwyddo," Philippa said, her hand coming forth slowly, her fingers closing like talons over the air.

Radovid gave a loud howl and clutched his face, staggering around like a frightened deer, bumping into the crates and walls and barrels stocked in front of a store behind him. Philippa made a few quick gestured, and the King was thrown against the gate, pinned there with her power like a bug. His eyes were squeezed shut, blood trickled down his cheeks from under the inflamed eyelids. His screams turned incoherent, inhuman. He was jerking like a fly on a spider web but couldn't break free. Philippa stalled her pace in front of him, with her back to the witchers.

"What the hell…" Roche whispered, staring in amazement. No one responded.

She was standing a bit hunched, her head lowered slightly as if she was scrutinizing the King's shivering boots. Radovid's screams got to their peak and began to lose the force, his throat hoarse. His face was a grotesque bloodied mask of suffering, his mouth downturned and gaping like a symbol of theatric drama and tragedy.

Philippa slowly raised a hand and pulled the blindfold off her face. It hung on her fingers as she lowered her arm, then fell down like a dry leaf. She raised her head to Radovid's face level, and Kain knew she was smiling.

"I've been waiting for this moment for long enough," she said. A dagger materialized in her grip and she shoved the blade in the King's gut, wrenching it savagely. Radovid screamed, squealed and howled. Then he hung limply like a broken doll.

In a flash of orange, Philippa was no more. A huge own flapped her wings soaring higher, and disappeared over the rooftops.

Radovid's body was left hanging on the gate as he was.

His bloody eye sockets were empty.

"How the fuck? Why?!" Roche turned to the witchers, his arms spreading in mute inquiry.

"Eavesdropped on us with magic," Geralt said, sheathing his sword. "Decided to take matters in her own hands and executed her revenge."

Roche's face creased in anger, "And you didn't think it worth mentioning earlier?"

"Lads, this is not the time," Ves said, placing herself between the two. "Radovid is dead, and it matters not by whose hand. We have to go. Now. This place will be crawling with Redanians in minutes."

"Right," Roche said, casting a quick glare at Geralt. "We shall go."

Ciri stormed into her room and slammed the door behind her, feeling aggrieved now more than ever that she could not leave the inn and seek refuge in the forest. If she had not promised Geralt she'd stay, she probably would have left already. There had been no signs of any attacks or threats.

She opened her window and leaned out a little to she could watch the street below. From what she could see there was no panic, nor violence, though somewhere in the distance there was quite a bit of smoke rising. She couldn't tell whether or not that had any significance to Radovid's attempted assassination. She was not even sure if she wished it was.

Ciri closed her eyes once her brow furrowed with concern and with her magic she tried to reach out. To Kain. It was easier with him than Geralt whose magic was so different from her own. She sought out the half-elf's mind, trying to connect, trying to get any hints or clues he was all right.

"Are you gratified?" Yennefer asked, standing slowly, moving toward the counter to retrieve the drink that Ciri had abandoned.

"What do you mean?"

"Stop trying to pretend like you don't know what you just did, Triss."

"What's that? Try to talk to her like a grownup? As if she has responsibilities?"

"She doesn't," Yennefer added. "At present all she has to do is worry about herself, about surviving The Wild Hunt."

"I know that," Triss amended, looking disconcerted.

"I don't think you do if you believe that trying to have a heart to heart with her about a subject that had already hurt her in the past is what's best."

"It's not that—" Triss beseeched.

"I don't care for your attempts at clarifying," Yennefer interjected. "Stop hurting my girl."

Yennefer didn't wait on her next rebuttal and started for the stairs. She entered Ciri's room quietly, gaze fixed to her back as she moved toward the mattress to sit, letting Ciri have a second's quiet time to unwind and cool down. It also wasn't hard to tell that she was using magic, that her energy had increased and become more erratic since she'd been downstairs.

Ciri's eyes opened once she sensed Yennefer's presence. She watched her cautiously before speaking.

"Do you agree with Triss? Am I selfish?"

"No," Yennefer said. There was no hesitation in her tone. "I believe you're tired, scared of what the future might hold and if we'll die in two days. You shouldn't have to think further than that or put pressure on yourself. All you have to do is live."

"I wish everyone else would see it like that," Ciri said, peering out the window again.

"Not everyone loves you the same way that I do," Yennefer added. "Perhaps better. They want you to think of a future. One where you don't have to run anymore."

"They should have been back by now, right? Geralt and Kain. How long does it take to kill a king?"

Yennefer eased off the mattress and moved to set the mug of mead on the windowsill in front of her. "Reorganizing our futures take time. But if they've done it right or even successfully, they'll be back by morning or even middle of the night. Worried?"

"Always. Aren't you?"

Thaler was waiting in the empty yard of the theater. He raised his bald head when Geralt and the other three jogged in and closed the fence door behind them.

"Is it done?"

"It is," Roche confirmed. "Though not everything went according to plan."

"That's not important," Geralt said. "Radovid's dead."

"That's all that matters," Ves said opening the bottle she picked up from the small table in front of Thaler. "To free Temeria!" She drank and passed the bottle to Roche.

"To Temeria!" he saluted and drank.

"To bloody Temeria," agreed Thaler.

Geralt folded his arms. "Isn't it a bit early to celebrate? Radovid's death doesn't mean free Temeria."

"It ploughin does, though," Thaler argued. "Or sort of. Tomorrow the commander of the Army Group 'Center' will sign a treaty in Emhyr's name. We have agreed on its contents and conditions with Dijkstra."

Geralt observed him with a scowl. "You haven't told me everything."

"Well, sure, we know how allergic you are to politics, so we emphasized the parts you cared about - mages and whatnot." Thaler drank and passed the bottle to Roche. "Nilfgaard keeps Aedirn and Lyria, but in exchange for Radovid's head and the stop of guerilla activities Emhyr shall let us keep Temeria as a sovereign state of Nilfgaard."

"Nilfgaard's sovereign," Roche scoffed.

"With our own inner rule," Thaler said. "Our own justice and law system. Silver Lilies shall bloom under the Golden Sun."

"At what price?"

Everybody turned to look at the bulky, huge figure appearing from the shadows in the depth of the scene with its curtains.

"The sovereignty of one small state - and Emhyr gets the whole North handed over on sliver platter." Dijkstra spat off the edge of the scene. "Forget it. There will be no deal. Redania shall raise its head under my enlightened rule and we will never stop fighting Nilfgaard."

"That's not what we ploughin agreed!" Thaler yelled.

"What the hell, Dijkstra?" Roche demanded reaching for his sword.

Before he drew it, they were surrounded. The shadows came alive and spat out Redanian soldiers armed with crossbows.

"What are you doing, Dijkstra?" Geralt said, stepping forward. "Stop this."

"Walk away, Geralt," Sigi suggested. "Take your younger twin and walk away while you still can."

"You know I can't do that," the Witcher said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, Geralt," Dijkstra shook his head slowly, but on his lips there was an ironic smile. "The same ill judgement. What about you?" He looked at Kain. "Talk some sense into your friend."

Kain slowly shook his head, "It won't be right. Not for the majority here."

"I think you need to look again, Cath," Sigi Reuven suggested, scowling. "Count and see where the majority lies."

Kain didn't try to count - he already had. He stepped forward from their closely bunched up group and threw his hands sideways, sending waves of power like invisible spreading wings of a giant bird. The soldiers flew back losing their balance and some their crossbows.

Roche, Ves and Geralt didn't stand waiting; they dashed for the fallen soldiers with their swords, Roche and Ves screamed about Temeria, and Geralt was silent like a white ghost. Thaler backed away to the fence gaping around, his hand pulling his dagger from the sheath on his belt.

Kain's eyes never fell off Dijkstra. The spy's astonishment was short-lived. He produced his sword but had no time to use it. Another impulse from Kain's thrown hand blew him off his feet and into the scene's decorations. Before he could get up, the half-blood stood over him, and Dijkstra found with growing fear that he couldn't breathe. He stabbed his sword futilely toward the younger Witcher, but missed. His huge free hand was ripping at the collars of his clothes in useless attempts to catch a breath.

The metal cluttered and clashed behind them as if in another world, and Dijkstra's vision began to blur and darken, his fingers weakened on his throat and around the handle of his sword - it rolled away from his limp hand when his eyes rolled up and his consciousness left him.

Yennefer smiled subtly. "I have to trust that they're going to be fine, that they can handle themselves, or I'd be out there searching to make sure."

"If they are not back before dark falls, I will go fetch them," Ciri said before sipping her mead.

"As you wish," Yennefer added gently. She had no intention of stopping her. Ciri was old enough to make her own choices and had looked after herself long enough. The sorceress knew she'd be fine. "In the meantime—enjoy your mead."

"I probably should not drink it all if I may have to go on a rescue mission later."

"Probably." Yennefer gestured for her to do so anyway. "It won't come to that."

Ciri considered, then drank. "I once fought in an arena against soldiers and ruffians. While on fisstech. And I managed that fine. I suppose a little mead won't hurt."

"You can handle it," Yennefer mused. She ambled back over to the mattress, sat down and stretched out.

Kain released the hold. Behind him, the fight was over. Geralt was coming up wiping his sword on some rag.

"We need your Axii," Kain said. "To win time."

"He probably ordered the signing of treaty to be sabotaged," Thaler said from the yard. "We have to make sure nothing stops it."

"We'll take care of it," Roche said and nodded at Geralt and Kain. "Thank you. He'd murder us if you left."

"Thank you," Ves said, and followed Roche for the fence gate leading to the back streets. There was less noise coming from there. They snuck away quietly.

Thaler stayed, however. He was peering at the scene where Dijkstra lay. "Is he dead?"

"No," Geralt said, looking uncertain. He didn't know what outcome could be deemed best in that situation. He was no damned politician.

"We don't know the consequences of his death," Kain said quietly. "We don't know what Philippa will do. We don't know what he conspired with Redanians. He's their head now. If we kill him, what will we get? A headless Redania is not a better beast than Radovid."

"Mm." Geralt grimaced and gave a scoff. "Fine. What do we do?"

"Axii," Kain repeated and went to get the bottle of wine still sitting on the table. The scuffle hadn't thrown it off. He cut his finger with the dagger and let the blood drip into the bottle's neck. He sloshed the remaining wine and returned to Geralt; his finger skinned over as he did.

Kain knelt before Dijkstra, setting the bottle down next to him and slapped the spy's jowls. When Sigi began to stir, Geralt hit him with Axii, and the eyes Sigi opened were foggy and unfocused. They made him drink the wine, then Kain leaned in to his ear, closing his eyes to focus his magic.

"Now, listen carefully, Sigismund..."

Sigi listened very carefully.

"Are you alright?" Ciri asked, watching her. "You look tired."

"A lot on my mind," Yen offered, gifting her a small smile. "Nothing to worry about."

"Things not connected to The Hunt?"

"Things not connected."

"About Geralt?" she asked gently.

"Lately is there anything else that I'm destined to think about?"

"There was a time you might not have." She smiled a little. "Things have changed, hm?"

"A lot. It's been that way since the Djinn."

"Losing something makes us appreciate it more at times. But you haven't truly lost him. It's not as though he no longer wants you."

"So I should be happy with sex without love?"

"That is not what I meant. I am saying there is still a connection there, one that can be developed into something more if his memories do not return."

"Then you're frightfully more positive than I am."

"I believe you were in love." Ciri shrugged. "And I think something like that does not just go away."

"Apparently it does. It doesn't appear to have been any more than a figment. A wish."

"That is not true. It is just buried and struggling to find its way back. He loves you. He just doesn't remember."

"He remembers you. He remembers Triss. It's not the same as it was before. As what was dealt with before. It's much different."

"So you are giving up?" Ciri asked, her brow furrowed.

Kain staggered and stopped, clasping at a wall to keep himself standing, a couple of streets away from Rosemary and Thyme.

"You all right?" Geralt regarded him with concern, casting a quick glance around.

The town criers had dispersed, but the crowds stayed, panicked and uncertain. Some thought the Hunt had arrived and ran in fear screaming for their loved ones, parents ushering children toward the gates; some knew about the King and decided it was the right time for plunder and skirmishes. There was a lot of those latter ones.

"My head's splitting," Kain uttered, his eyes shut, the fingers of his free hand pressing into his temple. "That magic… I'm good, Geralt, but this… It's like my brain is scrambled like breakfast eggs…"

"We have to go," Geralt urged, pulling him from the wall and coaxing to walk on. Kain was making giant efforts to not be sick. "It's another street and we're there. Yennefer can heal you."

"No! No… Not her… Not anyone."

"We'll see."

"Oh, thank the gods!" Dandelion exclaimed when Geralt practically dragged Kain in and toward the bar counter. Dandelion's joy slipped off his face replaced with a deep scowl of worry as he watched Geralt help Kain to a chair at one of the empty tables. "What happened?"

"Nothing, it's fine," Geralt said, scrutinizing Kain who was trying to breathe deeper to not throw up. "Is it? Fine? Dandelion, bring water."

"Sure, sure." Dandelion hurried for the bar and snatched the pitcher.

"I shall help."

They looked at the stairs: Philippa was descending.

"Oh fucking hell and birds of feathers," Dandelion muttered, staring, "where is her… what… the eyes…"

"Yes, I have things to be grateful for today, it seems," Philippa said, strolling toward them. "I shall repay the favor."

"No, thank you," Kain managed, wincing as he looked at her. "I'll make do."

"No need," Philippa smiled sweetly, her eyes gleamed cunningly.

"He said no need," Geralt put in, stepping forth to put himself between her and his brother, looking menacingly.

"You have another king to deal with," Philippa said. "No time for slack and rest. Not yet."

"I said—" Geralt started, but there was a thud behind him. He turned and observed Dandelion senseless on the floor. "Dandelion? What is with you?"

Dandelion moaned softly but couldn't quite come to. Geralt shook him by the chin, tapped his cheeks with his palm, but it hardly helped.

Philippa held out a cup of water to Kain who stared at her through the squint of pain. She was smiling. "I mean no harm to you, Witcher," she mouthed. Her lips barely moved, nor did they need to because her voice rang in his head.

Dismayed, he realized his defenses were down. He accepted the cup and drank carefully. "I'll be fine," he murmured, setting the cup down.

"When?" she perked an eyebrow, then made herself smile again scrutinizing him.

She knows I can't resist much, Kain thought, and still tried to. It made his headache worse, so bad he felt his eyes would start to bleed.

"That's not a druid magic you used," she purred, her smile widening. She studied him with fascination. "A bold move. I like it. Not that I'd care if he died or not… But…" she clucked her tongue, "I suppose it pleases me you thought of my feelings. So sweet." Her finger stroked along Kain's hand, which he pulled away.

Geralt yanked Dandelion from the floor to sit on a bench; the poet seemed to be suffering from vertigo. "Leave him be, I warn you, Philippa," Geralt snarled over his shoulder, glaring.

The enchantress paid no mind, her eyes boring into Kain's with the same persistence.

"Dammit," Geralt grumbled, glancing between her and Dandelion. "Get a grip," he said to the latter, shaking him subtly on the shoulders. "What's gotten into you?"

"No… Nothing… I… dunno…" Dandelion rubbed his eyes, rocking a little where he sat as if the world around him kept spinning.

"Philippa, stop this right now," Geralt growled, turning to her with a threat in his eyes.

"I'm doing nothing," she waved a dismissive hand; Dandelion shook his head as if to wake up. "It's my eyes. All that power is oozing from them. No woman can or should restrain her charms, Geralt. Pity I have to explain such basic things to a womanizer like you."

"Leave them both now."

"Aw, but I haven't done a thing." She kept looking at Kain. "Shame your stubbornness runs in the family. But have it your way – I have never pushed my assistance where it wasn't wanted. Go ahead and have half an hour, and then take your brother and head for the palace. I want Fringilla with us tonight. The last piece we all – I repeat, we ALL – need." Smiling, she held out a hand palm-up to Kain, "It's here if you change your mind."

Her eyes were hypnotizing, and Kain looked down at her palm instead, taking a deep breath. The headache was sickening.

Something stirred deep inside Ciri, and it took her a moment to realize what it was.

"They're back!"

She darted for the door and came down the stairs just in time to see Philippa's hand extended towards a very sick-looking Kain, while Geralt was crouching over a clearly unwell Dandelion. What had she done to them?

In a flash of green, Ciri was upon the sorceress in a moment, pushing her back against the nearest wall with her dimeritium bracelet pressed to the sorceress' throat. Her eyes, which had not always been Philippa's eyes, Ciri realized, stared at the ashen-haired girl with evident surprise.

"Well, well, the kitten's learned how to use her claws," Philippa mused, a somewhat satisfied expression claiming her face despite the discomfort of the dimeritium. "I am so glad."

It was not the reaction Ciri expected. But then again, Philippa had always been maddeningly hard to read. At least to Ciri.

"What did she do?" Ciri asked, never taking her gaze or hands off the sorceress, though her question was directed at the men behind her.

"I did absolutely nothing but try to help," Philippa purred, narrowing her eyes at Ciri briefly, then looking over her shoulder to Kain.

"Ciri," Kain said, wincing. "Don't."

"I'm… um… I… I'm fine…" Dandelion muttered, reaching for the cup of water Geralt held for him. "Just… I didn't sleep… a bit faint… Hard day. Hard century." He drank eagerly.

"You did this to distract me," Geralt pointed at Philippa, glowering.

Philippa laughed and pushed Ciri away, detaching from the wall to stroll between the tables nonchalantly toward the center of the room. "You put way too much intentions on my behalf, Witcher. I did nothing but offer my aid for your helping me. He's unwell, and you have to go… in twenty minutes." She tipped her head sideways, observing Kain. "You sure?"

"I'll manage," he said quietly, bringing the pitcher to his lips for another gulp of water.

Philippa shrugged and went for the stairs. "You know where to find me. May forgo knocking."

Ciri's blood was boiling but she did not pursue Philippa up the stairs. She was much more concerned with Kain and Dandelion.

She crouched before the half-elf, fury temporarily making way for fear. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Kain propped his elbows on the table and put his forehead in his hands, closing his eyes. "Headache."

"I'm fine," Dandelion said meekly and cast a frightened glance at the stairs where Philippa disappeared. "What happened?"

"She cast something on you and you fainted," Geralt said, taking a gander at Kain. "So she could... distract me."

"She tried to dig around in my head, is all," Kain said quietly.

"Shit," Geralt winced with disdain. "Picked the right moment, too. You all right? Need anything?"

"A forest," muttered Kain. "Though it might not help much."

Geralt frowned, "Why?"

"Dijkstra. The spell would hold for a day or so, and there's a sort of a... connection. It drains."

"Shit," Geralt repeated grimly.

"What spell?" Ciri asked, eyeing Geralt because Kain looked close to passing out. "What do you need? Fealinn?" She was the only capable healer Ciri could think of that Kain might accept.

"He, um... did a bit of a mind-controlling thing on Dijkstra," Geralt ran a hand through his hair.

"We need him docile until tomorrow," Kain said. "It can't be healed. I'll have to make do."

"Why until tomorrow?" Ciri asked, standing, and more confused than ever. "What happens tomorrow? And what happened with Radovid?"

"Yeah, I'm with Ciri here," Dandelion said, peering from one to another, puzzled. "What happened?"

Geralt sat down and told them in short about the bridge, Radovid's death and Dijkstra's failed plan to gain more power than anyone was ready to give.

"Owh, what a horse's arse!" Dandelion snorted. "It's just never enough for him."

"Or Philippa," Geralt murmured, glancing at Kain. "They're made for each other."

Ciri scowled. Their story was dramatic and quite horrifying. It explained why Philippa had not been part of Triss and Margarita's ambush earlier. Had she even known?

"Think we can trust her? Think she will turn on us like Djikstra did?"

"We cannot trust her about everything," Geralt said. "Only about what covers her interests. She wishes for her place of power to be back, just like Sigi."

"Something she can only get through someone's throne," Kain added quietly and drank more water.

Ciri's brows rose briefly in acknowledgement. "Must be why she still has her underlings trying to change my mind about Emhyr.

"What did she mean by you having to go in twenty minutes?"

Geralt grunted in annoyance. "She wants Fringilla back. Tonight."

"A pair of eyes wasn't enough for today?" Ciri snorted. "Do you think we are making a mistake in reuniting them? Are we making our potential enemies stronger?"

Geralt sighed. "It's about the city now. We need all magic we can get. We have to fight so that there are minimal casualties."

"Bollocks," Dandelion scoffed. "There are bloody four of them! Any more and this place will bust with magic. Hardly to make us happy or safe, either."

"We do need them all, and not just for this fight alone," Kain raised his head and looked at them. "This fight won't be the final one."

Sometimes Ciri didn't think it would ever end. "We should get Avallac'h back here as well," she said. "We might need him."

What if she lost control again and Avallac'h wasn't there to stop her this time?

"Perhaps we don't," Geralt mused. "This can wait. But Vizima won't. I should probably go alone."

"You think he'll hand her over?" Dandelion asked. "After he denied you already?"

"Stealing her won't do us good, so it's the only hope," the Witcher shrugged. "I have to convince him."

Kain took a deep breath, getting up. "Let's go, then. I'll be fine. I have to get used to it."

"You can barely stand," Ciri pointed out when Kain rose, looking unsteady. But she wasn't comfortable letting Geralt go alone either. "I'll come."

"Hmm." Geralt regarded Ciri. "You sure?"

She nodded. "Kain needs rest. Maybe even the forest. And I don't want you to go alone. If anything goes wrong, I can get us out."

"Rest won't help, I'm afraid," Kain said rubbing his forehead. "I'll have to live with it until it ends. Ciri, take him to that spot where you were waiting for us back then not far from the city. You can ride from there.

He might have mages at the palace, don't make it easier on them to scan your power for weaknesses or trap you. Don't go directly to the palace via magic, understand?"

"Ah, gods," Dandelion sighed. "Another bout of waiting and worrying. What am I going to tell Yennefer when she asks? She's going to turn me into a garden slug. Geralt!" He threw his hands up and cast a both accusing and pleading look at the Witcher. "A garden slug that can't SING! Ever!"

Ciri couldn't help but smile. "I need to fetch my sword, so I will tell her," she assured Dandelion. "Just keep your lute out of sight and you will be fine. I will be right back."

She darted up the stairs and for her room, closing the door behind her.

"Geralt and I will go see the Emperor now. Philippa wants Fringilla with her tonight."

She paused once her sword was fastened to her back, meeting Yennefer's gaze.

"Kain is... unwell. And Philippa has been trying to take advantage of that. Please try to keep the sorceresses away from him while we are gone. It is important."

"You have my word," Yennefer added. She meant it, too. There was no point trying to argue the fact that she'd only imagined Ciri would see her blood relation after The Wild Hunt had been tended to. That had been the deal. Why the change in heart? Because Philippa was making demands?

Yennefer rose up off the mattress and made a start for the door, leaving Ciri to tend to whatever she needed for a time.

"Don't get into another unfathomable trouble," Dandelion said. "I really, really don't want to be a slug, Geralt."

"Don't worry," Geralt patted the poet on the back and looked at Kain. "You can't remain like that until tomorrow. Screw Dijkstra and the spell."

"Done is done," Kain said, lowering onto the bench to sit again. "It's all right, I'll find a way to bear it better. Just get Fringilla and come back in one piece."

"I will."

"Agreed," Yennefer mused once she'd reached the interior and picked up on the conversation taking place. "Don't give Emhyr room to cage you again. Eyes open. Wide."

"He won't benefit from caging me, and he knows it," Geralt reasoned, looking up at her while she came down the stairs. "We'll be fine."

"I know," Yennefer retorted.

But as Ciri said, it didn't mean she wouldn't worry anyway. She no longer trusted Emhyr or that he wouldn't go to extreme lengths to manipulate Ciri. Their goals were not the same.

The streets were noisy outside. Dandelion got up and locked the doors just in case.

"I hope those witches are doing their work," he muttered. "How long do you think it will last?"

Geralt shrugged, "Depends on when Dijkstra seizes the power. Given our spell, he might be having certain difficulty concentrating."

"I shall take care of that," Philippa said from the stairs. No one noticed how she came down there again. "I will direct his focus where it has to go and relieve Kain of some pain of doing it. All you have to do is make him listen to me." She winked at Kain, then raised her arms and turned into an owl.

Dandelion opened the window and she flew out past him. He grimaced as if she were a bat.

Once Ciri had gathered her things, she returned back downstairs. Just in time to see an owl fly out the window. Philippa.

Now that her anger had waned ever so slightly, she felt a slight concern from having confronted the woman so violently before. Some sort of residual fear for Philippa that still lingered from their earlier meetings.

She pushed that aside and looked to Geralt. "Ready?"

She assumed he was, and moved over to Kain, gently took his face in her hands and leaned in to kiss him. Short and sweet. "Be safe," she whispered, the phrase she always uttered when parting with him and that held a lot more emotion than concern of safety.

A furtive smile swept over Yennefer's mouth while watching Ciri and Kain. It died out when her gaze touched Geralt. It was almost too much seeing him after that night.

She folded her arms as if to shut herself off and resume the cold exterior.

"Are you sure you can take us both with horses?" Geralt asked, opening the door carefully to peek outside and make sure they could sneak out to the stables.

"Entirely certain," Ciri said, detaching from Kain and stepping towards the door behind Geralt. "I have done it before. Though it is easier if you hold my hand."

"Does Roach hold your hand, as well?" Geralt sneered and followed Ciri out.

"I assumed you'd be sitting on her," Ciri retorted as they went for the stable. "I can transport us all either way, but I do feel safer when I am touching those I am taking with me. Less likely to accidentally drop you into a volcano somewhere, you know."

She was teasing. Mostly.

Dandelion locked the door behind them and turned to cast a forlorn look between Yennefer and Kain. "I shall get some shuteye before I drop where I stand." With that, he went for the stairs.

"Do you need any help?" Yennefer asked, assessing Kain.

"No, thank you." He got up and gestured for the stairs. "I better follow the poet's example and try to rest."

She nodded, and he went away. She hugged herself, rubbing her shoulders subtly as if from chill.

Alone again, then.

In the stable, she got Kelpie ready and when Geralt had done the same with Roach, she asked: "Should we travel from here? Or shall we leave the city first?"

"Under the circumstances, it's best to do it from here." Geralt couldn't help a wince recollecting her comment about the volcano. He caught her arm before she leapt onto her horse. "If you're uncertain of your power or anything, we can go without the horses. I... wouldn't want any of us all to end up in a volcano."

She laughed, genuinely delighted. "Geralt, I was jesting. I would never travel with you this way if I believed even for a second it could bring you harm. Or Roach."

Ciri reached up to affectionately tug on a lock of Geralt's hair. "Trust me. I've got this."

She released him and turned to climb onto Kelpie's back, her head kept low so to not collide with the ceiling.

"Ready?" she asked, holding her hand out to Geralt. The moment he took it, they were off.

Even though it was different from portals, his stomach still flipped and something in his head shifted like a change of pressure.

Roach was neighing and throwing her head. Geralt pulled the reins, ruling her down. He looked ahead at the city visible a mile away down the road. The sun was beginning to descend.

They exchanged glances and rode for the road.

"Are you ready for this?" Geralt asked, regarding Ciri.

"There's not really much I can do to prepare. Doubt I will ever be ready to meet that man. But I am willing and determined, so that will have to do," she said, her gaze on the castle.

The Witcher couldn't give her any advice. Emhyr was too different from Duni he remembered. He liked Pavetta and couldn't forgive him her demise. There was no right way to approach it, and Geralt aimed for what he always tried so hard to reach with politics - neutrality.

Yennefer checked to make sure that Dandelion wasn't seriously injured since he'd got caught in the wake of whatever plans Philippa had. He'd assured Yennefer he was fine but she'd looked him over anyway. Philippa was cunning, more so than he could have imagined and she clearly had plans. Philippa had showed face and Yennefer wasn't sure she could trust her to follow through now that she'd got what she wanted.

Twice.

Kain had headed upstairs some time ago but hadn't looked very good, either.

Once Yennefer was sure all that remained of Dandelion's injuries was his dramatics, she started upstairs, scarcely knocking when she entered his room.

Kain looked up at her from his chair at the fireplace. The orange glow illuminated a side of his face.

"Something happened?"

Yennefer shook her head and moved to join him in front of the fireplace. "I came to check on you. Ciri said Philippa tried to do something to you."

"Probing my mind - the most common and trite thing for your kind. Your favorite tool. Can't blame her for being predictable in some things no mage would pass on."

"It's useful," Yennefer disagreed. "People are prone to lying. They can't lie to themselves though. But that's not all, is it? You're exuding magic." Not directly at her, but outward and his body was taking significant strain.

Kain shrugged and looked at the fire. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"What's that?" Yennefer asked, peering into his eyes, noting that although they were different from Geralt's, there was also a similarity that was unmistakable.

"He wanted to keep fighting, to forgo the treaty and unite the North under his own rule. We could kill him. But we opted for redirecting his mind. I bound the effect with my blood. It will work until it's fully out of his system. No one can help with that, nor should."

"That'll put a strain on your body being linked to someone that long. You don't look like you're handling it very well. You planning to kill yourself?"

Kain smirked. "You don't know me. I tend to not overestimate my powers. That's why I'm still alive."

"You're right, I don't know you, I only know of you, of what you did for me and what Ciri told me. Why don't we remedy that? Tell me about yourself."

"It's not in my habits to tell anyone about myself." He shot her a brief but shrewd look. "Nor is it in yours to let anyone in. Not even those you claim to feel for."

"Let's pretend that for a minute neither of us is that easy to read. That we're two different people. One that doesn't mind sharing, and another who'll open enough to reciprocate."

Yennefer sat forward.

"Do you love my daughter, Kain?"

He heaved a long sigh, staring into the fire. A small smile of helpless irony touched his mouth for a brief moment. "Why do you want to know that? You're not her."

"Because I want to know how badly you're going to break her heart."

"That is exactly what I don't want to do. Love, however, always hurts. I'd like to spare her that."

"You'd like to spare her the hurt of being in love? As opposed to the hurt of being or feeling rejected?"

He turned to consider her. "You suggest I tell her I love her to make her feel better?"

"No. What I said was, if you love her, if there is even a stitch of anything between the two of you — tell her. Don't wait, don't waste time pretending that you feel nothing or trying to protect her. She doesn't need that. She knows what she wants, she knows what she wants to do."

Kain studied her for a bit. "I don't suppose Geralt ever waited with being honest with you. Did it change anything? Did you never leave him after that? Did you never leave him wondering whether you feel anything or not? Did any declarations change anything for better at all?"

"When it came to saying 'I love you' out loud, yeah, he did. But Geralt said in in his head multiple times over—I knew—he was also never afraid of showing me. Physically, emotionally. He gave me more than I could have imagined or even knew how to handle at times. Love isn't easy, it isn't something we can even speculate over or treat as if it were a spell that you can just throw together. You have to feel it, you have to understand it and, more importantly, you have to give it a chance. I let fear and the past ruin that for me. It doesn't mean that the two of you have to go through the same thing. Learn from us, don't be us."

He shrugged, "I respect your wish for her to be happy, but it doesn't mean Ciri or I can or even want to use your example. If you finally managed to accept your feeling, it doesn't enable you to teach others how it's done."

"Actually, it does. That's why it's called knowledge, the same way if I was to teach you or her about magic. It's all the same value. Whether or not you accept it is another matter entirely, I'm sure you're smart enough to know that."

Yennefer sat back in her chair, observing him with considerate interest.

"Are you attracted to her?"

He peered at her with ironic disbelief. "Why the interrogation? It's solely between her and me."

"The fact is that I don't know you. Your intentions. She already has a lot of herself rested on you and I'd like to know why, especially after what I witnessed last night. You know she'll be hurt when she finds out."

It took a moment to connect the two dots and understand what she was referring to. "I never lied to her," he reasoned. "Or made any promises to inspire any expectations in her. So no, I cannot tell you why she believes she has feelings for me. I tried to explain it with loneliness, some similarities she sees, or even just infatuation with a new face that seems to be of the same age, but she denies my reasoning. If you want to know why, you'll have to ask her."

"You've a tendency of explaining a lot away with motive, don't you?" He'd done it to her twice already. "You ever just think that it has nothing to do with loneliness and everything to do with the fact that you're attractive?"

"Do you fall in love with everyone you find attractive? Because it's not what you can love - it's what you like. She doesn't know me well enough to love."

"She knows that you're willing to help her, that you've protected both her and her family, and that she can count on you. Sometimes that's enough."

Kain heaved another weary sigh and averted his eyes to the fire.

Despite his resistance, Yennefer's gaze lingered on his face.

"If you want to talk about love and its reasons, you should talk to her," he said eventually. "I've got nothing to say."

"Not even about desire?"

He frowned but didn't turn to her. "What about it?"

"If you don't love her, do you at least desire her?"

He turned to regard her with disbelief. "At least? Are you seriously putting these two on the same line?"

"Should I have used another term?" Yennefer asked, arching a brow inquisitively, prodding him to clarify. She'd never been shamed by the idea of sex or the fact that it was just that. Most times that was all it had ever been to her. Most times…

"Love and desire are not the same, unless one comes from another. Ciri deserves someone who desires her out of love, not out of a selfish need for pleasure."

Yennefer's smile softened. She agreed.

"How are you feeling? You're beginning to sweat and you're looking even paler."

"I'm fine," he repeated and thought about Griffin longingly, looking away from her to the fireplace.

"Where is he?" Yennefer asked. "I can take you to him."

He shot a glare her way, "Don't you dig around in my head. I'm not Geralt, I can retaliate."

"It's a habit," Yennefer excused although she felt little in the way of an apology or his glare. "You didn't answer my question."

"I don't need your help. I can take care of myself. And habit is a weak excuse. Next time there will be consequences."

"I'm petrified," Yennefer retorted drolly, pressing on before he could think to roll his eyes or anything else that likened to his pride. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Kain, I'm trying to give the comfort you long for. You earned it."

"You're invading people's heads because you've never known trust and true connection. You don't know what giving comfort means - you've never done that, you rather sought it in Geralt and others who actually know how to love. I don't get comforted by having my mind probed. Thus I shall pass on your offer."

He got up from the chair, his eyes closing for a moment to let dizziness pass, then he walked out of the room and hurried to get outside.

Yennefer watched Kain stagger to his feet and sway, as if he couldn't stand to be in her presence a moment longer and seemed unconcerned with the discomfort he was creating for himself. She wasn't unaccustomed to that sentimentality. What she found most strange was that Kain was talking as if he knew her. Maybe he'd been poking around in her head and she'd been unaware?

She scarcely gave him time to make his escape before she was on her feet and following him.

The streets were still crowded outside - people were eager to be around others to discuss their rapid changes in life.

It was perfect, and Kain hurried forth, maneuvering through the crowds heading for the gates. He didn't need a horse; he relied on his fast elven feet to carry him away to peace.

Yennefer slid a disguise into place as soon as she realized Kain wasn't just going out for a bout of fresh air. She chose the same face she'd worn the day before in the high-end brothel – only with more attire. Thankfully keeping up with him wasn't too hard, despite the fact that he was essentially racing. The spell and whatever it was doing to him was slowing him down a little.

What a stubborn witch to refuse him the solitude he sought! Anger flooded Kain's chest making him want to punish her badly enough for her to never try that on anyone ever again. It took enormous efforts to reign it down and think rationally. The forest and its cool peace helped with that.

It would help more.

Having put enough distance between them, Kain knelt in the grass and laced his fingers into the blades. His eyes closed, he focused on Dijkstra. He had to put him to sleep before doing anything else. With that done, he carefully began to reach for the nature and its power beneath the earth.

It responded readily.

It only needed a direction. It rushed readily, and fog began to thicken from the ground beneath Yennefer's boots. The first touches were tentative, probing. The second wave of power hit her hard like a stormy wave washing her off her feet and flooding her without her will, filling her too rapidly, too painfully, relentlessly, until her body couldn't manage such an overload and passed out in an attempt to save itself.

Yennefer disguise flew off as effortlessly as she did her feet, her back connecting with the ground from the force of whatever had hit her, snaking through her system agonizingly until she'd writhed on the ground like an eel and darkness consumed her.

On quiet feet Kain approached the black-and-white figure lying on the forest floor. He squatted down next to her and turned her gently onto her back. There was a bit of blood beneath her nose. There was more on her inner thighs, he knew without having to look. It was the way the likes of her used magic.

He felt a pang of guilt - for Ciri's sake. Though Yennefer pushed too far and too hard, yanking him off his already faltering self-control, a part of him regretted teaching her this lesson.

He sighed, planted his palm on the ground and another on her forehead, and closed his eyes.

"You're much more pleasant when asleep," he murmured. "Has anyone told you that?"

She couldn't resist his healing, and it went smoothly.

He deposited her in Geralt's room and quietly went away again. He needed some undisturbed time alone.

Dijkstra was awake again.