The Witcher woke up in a jerk, disoriented for a moment. There was a warm naked body draped against his side, and for one scary instant he feared to see one of their ugly faces and hear them cackle.
('Do you desire us?')
"I'm sorry," he murmured when a pair of sleepy violet eyes peered at him inquiringly. "Didn't mean to wake you."
The room itself hadn't lightened but despite her sleepy disorientation Yennefer could sense that the sun was close to rising outside, if not rising already. She snaked a hand up his chest, resting it against the side of his face, index finger stroking his jaw.
"Bad dream?"
"Yes," he rubbed his face and let out a long sigh, trying to relax his tensed body. "Something like that. Doesn't matter."
He smiled and leaned closer, nuzzling against her neck.
Yennefer's hand drifted from his face and settled beneath the blankets, tossing a glance at the bed beside them.
"You were right. Ciri didn't come to bed."
"For the best. So I could stay." He studied her with lazy curiosity. "Would you rather have another variation?"
"You've stayed with me before while she was in the room. Before the Djinn. Of course – our nude activities were non-existent under a roof, but it isn't an impossibility."
"I'd rather not indulge in such activities with Ciri in the room," he reasoned and brushed his lips under her ear. He began to smile. "She won't come in now, either..."
His hand trailed down along her stomach and lower as he tugged at her earlobe with his teeth.
"Probably not," Yennefer agreed, her stomach muscles trembling beneath his fingers, her legs parting slightly to welcome his hand. "Nenneke might."
"Hmm." He shifted closer, peppering her neck and chest with teasing kisses, while his fingers stroked between her inner thighs. "Doesn't it excite you in the slightest bit?"
"It definitely does," Yennefer murmured, rocking her hips subtly against his hand, provoking. "Can you feel it?"
"You didn't have to answer aloud," he agreed, his finger skimming along and around her most intimate part with excruciatingly slow motions until she couldn't contain shivers running through her body at every subtle touch he allowed.
His own arousal was painfully evident, but he enjoyed the control while it lasted, and distracted her with a deep, demanding kiss.
She knew she didn't have to say it out loud, she wanted to. She would even have gone into further detail had his lips not covered her own and preoccupied her.
She groaned into the kiss as heat began to pool between her thighs, her rocking becoming insistent, her right hand clawing at his side encouragingly.
She nudged her knee against his body, trying to widen them, trying to get him to move so he could situate himself between her legs.
"I want you inside me," she murmured with commanding desperation.
He leaned back a few inches, looking at her, momentarily stunned by the vivid memory of her complacent demeanor when they argued about the djinn and Dandelion.
('I always get what I want.')
He supposed it was true. He didn't think she had ever had to ask for anything she wanted. She did ask him, though. He wondered if there was anyone else she asked the same way.
Two kestrels...
The thought seemed so misplaced it retreated as soon as her lips connected to his. Geralt didn't fight to keep it. He indulged what she wanted, for he wanted the same.
This time they made each other scream.
Ciri was already awake when the sun rose and after several hearty attempts at going back to sleep, she gave up when she heard the birds chirp outside. She got up and dressed, silently, so she wouldn't wake Kain, then snuck out a few minutes later.
The priestesses of the temple and their students were already up and busy, readying for the lessons of the day, and preparing breakfast. Ciri decided to wait to eat until Geralt, Yennefer, and Kain joined her. She had a feeling one or more of them had no intention of travelling rapidly back to Novigrad with her that morning, and she wanted a little time with them all before she left.
Nenneke and Kain's words the night before had made a small impact.
After they'd thoroughly indulged in each other, Yennefer coaxed him out from under the covers and into the bath where they could rinse away their nights and morning's frivolities and she could prepare for her travel.
She was in the middle of pulling on her clothes and trying to tame her hair without her usual necessities at hand when she repeated her question.
"Will you be travelling with Ciri and I this morning?"
"I'll ride with Kain," he said, pulling his pants on. "You and Ciri should take advantage of her power - given you have one horse for two. If she's so worried about Novigrad, let her get there right away and calm herself."
Yennefer nodded, saying nothing with regard to his insistence about getting back to Novigrad. She wanted to test Ciri's power – see her responses. The last time she'd conjured something up, Ciri seemed to struggle with it, even if it had been done as a distraction – now, she couldn't be sure.
Yennefer laced her boots, combed her fingers through her hair a final time, scanning the room to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind and, once he was ready, followed him to the door so they could head out to join the rest of the temple residents for breakfast.
"Didn't change your mind about leaving?" Geralt asked Ciri at the table.
"No. It's time," Ciri responded, helping herself to some fruit. "I'll leave after breakfast."
He nodded, casting a quick glance at Yennefer before returning it to Ciri. "Through a portal?"
"That's the plan." Ciri didn't want to admit that was partly because Kelpie had been so cold with her yesterday. She was scared to explore what that might be about. "Quicker."
He nodded again and busied himself with another slice of apple pie.
"Don't go without seeing Nenneke," he added in a bit.
Yennefer regarded her. "I thought you were preparing your Kelpie the day before for the journey. Why the portal?"
"Didn't want to leave anything behind," Ciri said before shifting her gaze to Geralt. "We spoke last night."
"But you're leaving today," Geralt retorted. "It would make her feel good if you said goodbye."
Ciri shrugged. "If you say so." She'd felt like they had said goodbye the night before but perhaps that wasn't so. "Are you staying?"
"We're riding out soon after you," the Witcher assured. "Today."
"I can take you all back one at a time," Yennefer offered.
"We would like to have a normal journey," Kain said, settling at the table. "We've decided upon it."
Yennefer didn't understand Ciri's reluctance then. Why didn't they travel together? She had nothing else to add.
If Ciri didn't already know how Geralt hated traveling by magic, she would have suspected he and Kain were doing this to get away from her for a while. Suspicions that, despite being aware of the truth, continued to churn as Ciri finished her meal.
"I'll go find Nenneke," she said, rising from the table. "I'll meet you at the stables, Yennefer. When you're ready."
"I won't be much longer," Yennefer said and tucked into her food, studying Ciri's retreating back.
They watched her go, then Geralt turned to Yennefer, gauging her expression.
"No need to push her to any contracts or confrontations just to study it," he remarked. "There will be time for it yet. You may still watch her in Novigrad until we come. It'll be a day or two for us on the road. You're the only one pair of eyes on her there. Be very discreet."
Yennefer was a bit disappointed that her idea had been rejected, that she wouldn't be able to get a better look at what was going on with Ciri, but what else could she do? Neither Geralt, nor Kain appeared to be on her side in this regard. They also didn't seem to see the importance of it like she did. "I don't want there to be time for it. I want to manage this problem before it gets out of hand – I want to know what the problem actually is. You should be with us."
"We will be in a few days," the Witcher said. "But think about it, Yen. She attacked the Hunt. She took her anger and pain out on them. It's not all that strange. Maybe we're imagining a storm where there's nothing but a thin cloud that would pass soon like any mood."
"You may be right, Geralt, I could be overthinking, but shouldn't we at least be working to make sure that I'm not? Or is it that you can't bring yourself to trust my judgement on these matters?"
"I trust you," he said in that weariness in his tone one uses to placate the opponent when tired of the argument. "But I also want to trust her. I need to trust that she's all right, Yen. I need to try. If she's fine and we suffocate her with surveillance for no reason, we will lose her trust. She will feel betrayed by her closest ones."
"He's right," Kain added somberly. "We talked a bit last night. She said she feels you both are disappointed by her. By how she's not the little girl you both want back, how she's angry and bitter, how you fear her powers and how she uses them. She's in pain. Inside. If the way you behave around her proves her right..." He trailed off, letting them draw their own conclusions. He looked at Yennefer. "Tread very carefully. Please."
Geralt's face darkened at the revelation, his cheek muscles bulged. He put his pie down, feeling no want for it, anymore.
Yennefer felt a hint of irritation at Kain's interjection as she was about to sling another retort at Geralt, and yet, the information the half-elf offered up hollowed her out.
She pushed aside her own plate, nodding, no longer trusting she had anything to say that wouldn't sound defensive or like a cringe-worthy excuse. She hadn't realized Ciri's feelings or that Yennefer had presented herself in that manner to make her daughter doubt herself.
She stood abruptly.
"We'll see you back in Novigrad."
With that she left the two bothers to tend to their breakfast and headed for the stables.
Kain looked after her, his brow furrowing, then considered Geralt who was gloomier than a bear woken in the middle of winter.
"What Ciri said is not your fault," Kain told him. "It's in her head, always judging and questioning herself. I told her that. She felt better."
The Witcher gave him a pained look. "You said she's suffering. Because of me. I've been insensitive and-"
"Stop it. You did everything you could for her, and she knows it. Trust me, she knows. It was a moment of weakness. I'm sure you had your share. We all have."
Geralt thought of his vision about Visenna and drank his tea, brooding.
"It's that time?" Nenneke asked when Ciri found her outside of the kitchens delegating duties for the day.
"Afraid so," Ciri responded, though she wasn't able to show much regret.
Nenneke noticed and for a split second Ciri thought she saw something akin to hurt flash over the older woman's face. It vanished too quickly for Ciri to be certain.
Nenneke waited until the last of the priestesses had disappeared before she closed the space between Ciri and herself, wrapping the girl in a tender embrace.
"Be safe, child," she whispered as Ciri returned her hug. When Nenneke pulled back, her eyes were misty. She cupped Ciri's face in both hands.
"Go with the knowledge that you are loved, Cirilla, and that you always have a home here when you need it."
Ciri smiled, her hands resting on Nenneke's shoulders. "I appreciate that more than you know."
"May the goddess be with you."
"And you," Ciri said softly, gently squeezing the woman before releasing her and leaving.
Ciri found her way to the stable a few minutes later. Yennefer was waiting.
"I'll just get Kelpie and then I'll take us away."
"When you're ready," Yennefer said, smiling at Ciri, unable to shake the sadness that loomed over her like a dark raging cloud. She'd failed Ciri – made her feel unloved – and it was a hard fact to swallow. Yennefer herself had been through that negligence as a child and knew how hard it was when you thought you weren't being heard, especially when it came to those you considered family.
How could she fix it? Did she ask Ciri about it? Broach the subject and sell out Kain filling them in? No. She'd already added to the girl's loneliness, she refused to do it again or make her thing she didn't have anyone she could talk to in confidence.
Kelpie didn't seem much more receptive to Ciri's presence than she had the night before, but at least she didn't fight the girl as she led the mare out of the stables.
Once outside, Ciri extended her free hand to Yennefer with a small smile and when the sorceress took it, the three of them vanished in the familiar flash of green.
They appeared in the stables of Dandelion's inn a second later, startling one of the workers and making him drop the bucket of feed he'd been carrying.
Ciri didn't care. She handed Kelpie over to his care and made for the inn.
Yennefer scowled lightly as Ciri handed over Kelpie's reins to the stable hand, surprised she'd been willing to do that when she—most times—wanted nothing more than to do that herself.
She didn't help the stable boy pick up his feed, trailing Ciri into the inn, wondering if Priscilla was around when she knew Dandelion was still in Oxenfurt as it tried to rebuild.
Zoltan stood behind the counter downstairs, the top of his head barely visible until Ciri approached further.
"Ciri! Yennefer! Bloody hell!" he exclaimed and shuffled out to greet them, looking both relieved to see them and flustered. "Where the blazes have ye been? We've been worried sick about ye!" He peered behind the two women, expression turning to mild concern. "Where's Geralt? And Kain?"
"They're fine," Ciri assured him, glancing around the inn. It was empty. Too early in the day for patrons perhaps. "They'll be here in a few days. Chose the long way rather than magic."
"From where?" Zoltan demanded.
"Ellander."
The dwarf scowled. "What were ye doin' all the way over there?"
Ciri shrugged, not particularly eager to tell the story. "We had business to take care of. Where is everyone? Dandelion?"
"Most are over in Oxenfurt," Zoltan replied, not at all sated by Ciri's lack of explanation but seemingly pushing it aside for now.
"What for?"
Zoltan paused to regard the girl; he would have thought the answer obvious. "They're helpin' rebuild the town, lassie. And tendin' to the sick and wounded."
Ciri frowned. "They're not done yet? It happened a week ago."
Zoltan hesitated again, looking to Yennefer this time with a slightly confused gaze. "These things take time."
Yennefer met Zoltan's eyes. She was as taken aback as he was. Ciri knew that it took longer to build a city back up, even if it only took a day to destroy, not to mention the casualties, and yet—despite her reasoning for being here—her tone held none of the concern she declared to have for the people.
"Then I suppose, we should head over to Oxenfurt and help them." That's where Yennefer had been before they summoned her help in the Bog.
"Where is Avallac'h?" Ciri asked, earning herself a snort from Zoltan.
"Last I saw him, he was in yer old room. The sorceresses took his."
Ciri eyed the stairs leading to the second floor, pensive for a moment. "I should go talk to him." They hadn't informed the elf of their intention to take out the last Crone, either, and Ciri knew he would be furious. They needed him on their side to get a better perspective of what The Hunt might be planning next.
She turned to Yennefer. "You can go ahead without me. I'll catch up."
"I'll wait here," Yennefer said, smiling, offering up an air of disinterest when it came to the idea of returning to Oxenfurt to clean up after peasants. An act. The truth was that she was worried about Ciri and knew how volatile her relationship with Avallac'h could be.
What if he said something to upset her and…
"I'm sure Zoltan wouldn't mind my company for a little while."
Zoltan made not a sound but didn't meet her eyes again, he'd returned to whatever menial task he'd assigned himself as a distraction.
"And I could use some ale."
"Have you eaten?"
Yennefer nodded and disappeared behind the counter with him in search of mug.
Ciri found Avallac'h in her old room, standing motionless in front of the solitary window, peering out at the streets below. He turned to face her once he heard the door open. The look on his face was one Ciri was well acquainted with – quiet fury.
Normally she would have felt a pang of guilt at that. Fear, too. Neither emotion was present now. If anything, she felt amused.
"Always so somber," she commented, closing the door behind her. "Don't you ever get tired of looking so disapproving?"
Avallac'h didn't speak. Not for a long time. Ciri could tell he wanted her to confess to where she had been, why she had not informed him first, and to apologize for her thoughtless behavior. When none of this happened, he was eventually forced to address the issue himself.
"You went after the Crone of Crookback Bog." It was not a question.
A slow smile spread over Ciri's face. Of course, he knew. "How did you know? Did your elven friends tell you?"
A crease of annoyance marred Avallac'h's otherwise smooth brow. "The Hunt? Do not be ridiculous."
Ciri shrugged casually. "You know so much. I'm beginning to wonder if you have sources outside of this world. Back home, perhaps?"
"That would be convenient," the elf retorted, neither confirming nor denying. "Am I to take it you were successful in your mission?"
"We were."
"Who delivered the killing blow? Kainarel?"
Ciri's eyes narrowed. "Why? Because he would be the only one strong enough? The only one capable?"
Avallac'h watched her impassively. "He has come much farther than you, Zireael. He is gifted."
Jealousy burned bright in Ciri's heart, green-eyed and horrible. She didn't want to go back to the way things had been between her and Avallac'h before. The familiarity. The bond. Because she knew now it was all a lie.
But it bothered her he had seemingly moved his interest to Kain so quickly. As if Ciri herself meant nothing any longer because she could not perform on command.
"Does it matter who killed her?" Ciri asked, biting back the urge to hurl obscenities Avallach's way.
Avallac'h's smile was so imperceptible Ciri nearly missed it. He watched her intently. "Jealousy is a useless emotion, Zireael. Rid yourself of it," he said. And yet it seemed he truly didn't mind that particular feeling from her. Not when it was about him.
"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?" Ciri retorted, all intention of smoothing things between them to ensure future co-operation forgotten. "Do you no longer feel jealous then? Of Lara and her true love?"
Simply uttering her name was enough to needle him. Ciri could tell. Avallac'h had never been able to hide the sorrow in his heart when it came to Ciri's ancestor. Not from her. All at once, the elf became rigid and uncomfortable.
"You struggle, don't you?" Ciri continued, approaching him on soft feet, purposely making her voice coy. "Seeing her face every day, her body, the closest you will ever come to having her again..."
Ciri pressed herself against Avallac'h's chest, hands taking hold of his to lightly caress the sides of her body.
"Never being able to touch, to feel, to take what was promised to you."
Avallac'h's face betrayed nothing but slight discomfort. But his body, a certain part in particular, informed Ciri that Geralt and Yennefer had been right in their earlier assumptions. Avallac'h wanted her. Maybe not consciously. Maybe not willingly. But deeply. Because despite the Aen Elle's reluctance to admit human beauty, Ciri bore such a close resemblance to Lara Dorren no one would question whether or not she was her descendant.
Ciri turned her back to him, pressing her backside to the elf's crotch as their joined hands grazed her hips. "Must be hard..." she breathed, having purposely chosen that word in particular, "to know she chose another over you. A human. Feeling the pain of that knowledge... that you were never good enough for her. We would never choose you."
She released him and turned again, cupping Avallac'h's angular face to make certain his eyes met hers. She smiled, as ruthless as the force that stoked her need to hurt him.
"You're beneath us, Avallac'h."
Ciri pushed away, her smile cruel and contrasted by the girlish giggle that parted with her mouth. She didn't stay to watch the effects of her actions. She could already feel them.
Whatever pain the elf could still feel in that ancient heart of his – he felt.
Zoltan brought a pitcher of ale from the kitchen and Yennefer settled at one of the tables. He joined her in a few minutes upon finishing with the accounting.
"Ye going to Oxenfurt?"
She nodded. "We believe our help won't be amiss there. The sooner we do our share the quicker it goes, so we can go on with our lives."
"Aye, aye," the dwarf sighed wearily and drank his ale. "If that fat dick Dijkstra lets ye move on, that is."
"He won't dare stop us."
"Ambitious of ye," he chortled. "But then again, yer a sorceress. Yer kind are too bold for yer own good. Maybe Ciri takes after ye more than ye know."
It made Yennefer smile a little against her mug.
"Oh, darn, I almost forgot!"
The dwarf slipped off the chair and searched his trousers. What he came up with was a crumpled note of doubtful state of cleanness - someone might've spilt some mead on it. He handed it to her.
"Some kid came around seeking ye," he said. "Dirty mug, ragged shirt. One of them little thieves off the streets hired for an oren. I had to threaten to make him speak his message, wrote it down for ye. A meeting. The little snot said ye'll know what it's about if I tell ye the word 'amos'." He poured himself more ale, studying her. "Ye know what it is, doncha?"
"I do," Yennefer said, studying the fine line of foam on her mead.
She'd been trying to leave everything up to Geralt, letting him choose what to do with his scrambled brain, but despite all that—when she wasn't waiting on her families return or helping prepare for battle—she'd seeded other possible information about the djinn through a thieves organization.
They'd cost her a handful of crowns and an enchanted favour. She wasn't sure if they'd pay off or be killed during the Wild Hunt, but she'd hoped they'd come to her with an outcome.
Regrettably, it wasn't the best timing. Yennefer couldn't keep an eye on Ciri and her fluctuating moods and take her on some lowly journey for a book. Ciri wanted to get her hands dirty.
"Thank you for the message."
"Do you still want to go to Oxenfurt?" Ciri asked as she descended the stairs. "Or do you want to inform The Lodge about our return? I'm sure they'll receive our news with the same enthusiasm Avallac'h did."
"The elf's been moody like a drunkard without ale," Zoltan laughed. "I say he's loathin being replaced by yer side, lassie. Can't take it, the snobby nose. He craves to be the only one ye ever need, and then ye leave him behind like a used pair of soiled breeches." He chortled into his ale and drank.
Yennefer was too preoccupied in her own mind to give any notice to their brief conversation, trying to decide whether going after her book was the best course of action. She could do it herself, but who could she leave to tend to Ciri? Triss?
She drained what remained of her mead and set the mug aside, closing her eyes for a second as if she needed them to be able to decide her next course of action.
"Actually, no, I'd like to postpone returning to Oxenfurt," Yennefer answered finally. "Zoltan kindly delivered a message from a friend of mine and I'd like to follow up."
"For as long as ye don't get in trouble," Zoltan remarked, taking his mug and the empty pitcher off the table as he got up. "Or Geralt will rip me a new arse." Muttering to himself, he disappeared in the kitchen.
Ciri trailed Zoltan with her gaze before looking to Yennefer again, curious. "What was the message?"
Yennefer regarded the dwarf as he went about his business and then focused on Ciri before getting to her feet. She could lie or beat around the truth of the matter, but given what Kain had told her about Ciri's feelings, Yennefer wanted her to feel included and trusted. She was all those things and it had never been questioned.
It still wasn't – even with Yennefer's concerns about her headspace.
"It's about a lead on a book involving djinns," Yennefer said, purposely lowering her voice to a conspiring whisper.
"Alright..." Ciri drawled before finally catching on. "Oh. Oh! You mean, like your and Geralt's djinn?"
"I wasn't expecting much to come from my search, since the scriber of the tomes perished and most reliable information has been twisted by every mage, thief, and king that longs to own a djinn. However, some information has paid off and I have to confess I'm hopeful."
Or did it? The outcome hadn't been in Yennefer's favor and her relationship with Geralt was even more superficial than it had been before. They talked, but it was all surface level and hardly about themselves in a manner that added depth.
She longed for the days where she could take as much solace in his mind as she did his body.
"We'll have to find you warmer clothes," Yennefer said and gently guided Ciri for the stairs and the room she shared with Geralt.
Ciri followed her upstairs, confused as much as she was curious. "Why? Where are we going?"
"An island of Skellige," Yennefer said in a low tone, wondering how much detail Geralt had explained about their expedition on the island.
She glanced at the Lodge's bedroom door, and the other she assumed was Avallac'h's and ventured into the bedroom, unsurprised to find that it was untouched since last they'd been there.
Since she'd been there.
She hurried over to her clothes chest, popping open the top, searching inside for her usual winter furs, offering Ciri a spare coat that stopped just shy of whoever would wear its knees.
"You'll be able to move in it should someone unsavory catch up to us?"
Ciri arched a brow, surprised Yennefer even had to ask. "I could move even if my legs were cut off," she said, taking the coat. "So, we are going to search for this missing book? You think the cure to Geralt's memory loss could be in it?" That would be something to celebrate, indeed.
"His memory is fine – it's my part in it that's the problem," Yennefer stated, shrugging into her own coat, fixing the inner-laces and buttons. She'd yet to see Ciri in a dress and the longed for the day when they'd be able to have such menial discussions as fashion. "I'm afraid that in my eagerness to know the truth I might have made a mistake in my research. My hope is that this second tome – if I can find it – will be able to enlighten me as to what I might have done. Perhaps even tell me how to repair it."
Yennefer knew that the last thought was more hopeful than anything else, but given what she'd done—or believed she'd done—she couldn't rest until she was certain.
Yennefer smiled at Ciri to let her know she was ready, and then lifted her hands to the air, recalling her usual means of travel. A portal appeared from within the wall, a whirlwind of beckoning gold.
"I shall pray for your visit in some more peaceful time," Mother Nenneke said, embracing Geralt, then moving on to Kain. "Give Ciri my love."
A rare warm smile was lighting up Geralt's face. "We will, Nenneke, thank you for everything."
"I did close to nothing, save keeping you fed," she said. "If you see Triss, give her my regards, as well."
"Ciri's preoccupied," Kain added in a quiet voice. "She doesn't let herself stop and rest, but we'll do what's in our power to help her. And then she'll want to come where she was at peace once."
Nenneke smiled wistfully. "I don't foresee it happening in the near future, but hope is a good thing. Go with Goddess, witchers. May she keep you safe."
She stepped back as they went for their horses, and waved as they rode out. Both witchers felt their chests tightening while they spurred their horses to gallop down the road and away from the temple gates.
They rode on past Dorndal and kept along Pontar river, heading in the direction of Velen. About halfway, having a short break for snacks and call of nature, they spotted an approaching cart. The horse was trotting but looked half-dead from effort and sun that scorched everything from its high point of zenith. The horse - a simple village mare - was breathing loudly and heavily, all her sides and neck wet with specks of foam. A woman driving it was about to spur the mare at the sight of two men on the curb, but the mare couldn't oblige. It stopped, head lowered, and looked close to collapsing.
"Oh gods," the woman whimpered. "Oh no…"
"Do not worry, m'lady," Geralt said. "We pose no harm. Please, let your horse rest and continue on."
The woman wasn't alone, it turned out. Her cart was full of children, ages from six to twelve by Geralt's estimation. Some smaller ones were sniffling and crying, all of them tired, their faces covered in road dust.
The witchers helped the woman with the horse, Kain led it to the river to drink – where the mare eagerly dipped its muzzle and sucked in hearty, slurping gulps. The children ate and drank, some went to sleep right after, some played on the grass while the adults talked.
"We're from Downwarren, m'lords," the woman said. Her eyes were red as if she had been weeping all other day. Kain suspected it was so. "A horrible curse befallen us, all beasts gone mad, wolves and monsters, howlin in the nights and stealin our babes by day, not afeared of anythin, no forks or torches."
"Downwarren," Geralt frowned. "It's near the bog?"
"Yea, m'lord, there. The Ladies watch over us, but no more they do, no. Their…" Her face crumpled up, and she tried to not whimper loudly not to scare the children. "They… they gone, m'lords. The altar, all gone! Black coals left, no more. It's awful! We dunno what to do no more! And them beasts come lurkin and huntin us and them kids. Them ghosts and their hounds lurk, breathe ice and kill people. We find the frosty trails that don' melt in the sun! I grabbed them babes and fled. Or we'd be dead."
She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, her body shaking as she wept silently. Geralt sat next to her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Someone burned the altar, and the Ladies cursed us!" she whispered, wiping her cheeks. "They will never forgive us now! Ealdorman knows not what to do. And I couldn't wait to lose our babes. I grabbed them and ran. There were two of us to go, but Galka… she… she…" She sobbed quietly and wiped her nose. "Wolves got her, snatched right off the cart. I could do nothin. Nothin…"
"Where are you heading?" Geralt asked.
"Ellander. The temple of Mother. With Ladies gone, our Mother shall take us in. She should. She could not leave us."
"She won't," Kain said. "You'll be safe in there."
"Yea, I hope so, m'lord. Them babes lost their homes and parents. I can't let them perish, too."
"It's a safe road from here," said Geralt. "You stop at Dorndal and travel to Ellander next day. Here," he produced a few coins from his pouch, "should get you through."
"Oh, m'lord! No words! Thank thee! Thank thee!"
"All children from Downwarren?"
"Nay, some from the bog orphanage," she said, hiding the coins in her purse. "Bloody Baron came and took the woman away – she was taking care of them kids. His men brought them to us, gave us some orens to take them. We did – not for orens, m'lords, but for carin. They needed some people with them, yea. They all good kids."
"They are," Geralt murmured. "Anything of the Baron?"
"Nay, m'lord. They say he went away to mountains to seek a healer, but we dunno."
"Never returned?"
"Not that we hear of, nay."
The witchers watched the cart roll away, then proceeded on their own.
Geralt clenched his jaw. "What is happening to that damn place? We killed the Crones, Ciri killed the Riders. What more of it?"
"The Hunt don't keep all their units in one place. Not anymore. They're getting smarter about it."
"We can't leave until I find out what happened."
Geralt went to Roach as they prepared to leave. Kain clucked his tongue, calling Onyx, and mounted, looking grim in thought. They rode on with no further delay.
Once they stepped through, they were on the familiar boat's deck, Yennefer's boots covered with an inch of new snow, the mast and other intricate areas depicting the result of their fight with the djinn they'd summoned the last time.
"Geralt and I did a decent search of the vessel the last time we were here," Yennefer began, her chatter accompanied by a puff of smoke to indicate the drastic change in temperature. "But we'd been searching for something else wholly." A broken coin-shaped seal lost beneath the snow. Yennefer hadn't bothered to take it away with her when they left, knowing she'd never be able to use it again.
She'd reduced it to a useless relic.
"This time I plan to make a more systematic attempt at either finding the tome or a clue as to its whereabouts."
Yennefer led the way to the open door she knew housed what remained of Amos var Ypsis. Her only hope was that in their carelessness to tidy up after themselves they didn't damage the information they'd needed or lost it.
There was a lot of information and changes to scenery to digest all at once, and Ciri suddenly felt like she was thirteen again and back under Yennefer's tutelage.
She pulled her cloak a little tighter around her as she examined their surroundings and quickly deduced they were on a Skellige island, indeed. Ard Skellig, perhaps?
Yennefer didn't address the fact they were on a shipwreck atop a snowy mountain, as though it was something perfectly ordinary and something one would expect to find on a hike. Of course, she had been here before and would have questioned the very same things that now raced through Ciri's head.
How the blazes had a shipwreck ended up atop a mountain? It had to be magic. If not some freak storm.
"If the book is here, will it be intact?" Ciri mused, trudging through the snow and following Yennefer below deck where the wind was not quite as ruthless. "How long has this ship been here like this?"
And where was the rest of it? From what Ciri could tell, it had been broken in half. Something that actually helped with what would otherwise have been a severe lack of light down in the hull.
It didn't look like much from first glance. Just broken furniture scattered about the floor. Ciri approached to examine a few wooden chests that contained flasks and flagons of unidentified liquid.
"Was he an alchemist, this scribe?" Ciri distractedly asked Yennefer while rooting through the various items, her attention suddenly snatched elsewhere when she noticed a body lying next to a giant bookcase, its head slightly caved in. "Oh," she said, rising to her feet and pointing, surprised. "Corpse."
The cold must have preserved it better than the heat would because even if the man looked to have been dead for quite some time, rot had been slow to set in.
"Is that... Is that him? Your scribe?"
"That would be him," Yennefer said, hardly sparing the body much mind. She'd seen it and aside from the fact that it was still preserved, nothing else had changed. None that she cared to see. She supposed she should offer the mage a better burial than to rot away on the deck of his beloved boat next to his damned bookshelf, but she couldn't be bothered. She knew the man from literature alone, knew what he was capable of, and—deep down—harbored a resentment.
How could a man who'd made such a clumsy wish, hold the key to a secret mages and thieves had been fighting and murdering for so long?
Yennefer knew she was being harsh. If she'd succeeded in snaring a djinn all those years ago – this flattened corpse could have very well been her.
"If we're going to be stuck in here with var Ypsis for a prolonged period of time, we'd best find something to lay over his corpse."
Yennefer assumed Ciri would take care of that, and moved to scan the book titles, plucking them off the shelf one at a time, flicking through them in search of false covers, hiding magic or some kind of note before tossing them aside dismissively.
"What do you think happened to him?" Ciri asked, tugging at one of the fabrics she had found in a chest. It was more of a doily than a sheet, and mostly only covered the dead man's head. Or what remained of it.
"The bookcase fell on top of him and crushed his skull," Yennefer said without looking up from one of said murder weapons she was rifling through. "Last time we were here, Geralt lifted it off him. We hardly lingered in here very long so didn't bother with the last rite formalities."
Ciri shrugged. "Don't think he'd notice either way. So, what else do you know about this book? Any hints on what it might look like? Which language it is written in?"
"I assume it's in his native tongue or coded in such a way that it might appear as gibberish to anyone that isn't a mage."
Yennefer tossed aside another book into the far left corner of the room where it hit the floor with a loud bang. She picked up another, then another, coming to the conclusion that, although the man's wish had been ill-thought and rash, his hiding skills and taking care of who got a djinn in their hands weren't.
Not that it was an admirable trait.
From what Yennefer had learned when she stumbled upon the first book, it was that he'd been looking to sell it to the highest bidder. Emhyr had been that bidder.
There were what felt like hundreds of books to go through and once she'd cleared the first point of her appointed shelf she started, diverting her attention to the floor.
"Geralt checked the chests the last time he was here… and it makes sense to hide the book in plain sight, in the most inconspicuous way possible…"
Yennefer growled low after another unsuccessful find with frustration, moving to paw over the scattered documents and other less assuming ledgers buried in dust.
Ciri sighed and stepped to the intimidating bookshelf as well, running her fingertip over the spines of the nearest books. "So you don't think he stashed it away in a secret compartment?"
It could be possible, in Ciri's mind. Ships had many hiding places. She'd explored several as a child on her grandmother's fleet.
She paused to eye Yennefer with consideration. The sorceress was clearly already agitated and impatient, even if their hunt had only just started.
"And if we don't find it here, what then?"
"It's probable," Yennefer added. "I've never met the man in person and don't know how his mind worked. I found his first book on a whim in Emhyr's library."
Ciri flinched at the sound of Emhyr's name, but she didn't comment. It felt wrong, however, that Yennefer had ever resided at his palace. Worked for him. Maybe even been his confidant?
Ciri didn't know and she found she didn't want to dig deeper on that topic.
Yennefer glossed over the piece of paper in her hand, finding something she thought might have been of some use and tucked it into her pocket before moving onto the next item.
"If we don't find it among the books, we'll go to the floorboards."
Yennefer walked over blanketed mage and peeled the material away from the side of his corpse, leaving his ruined face covered while she searched him. She found a letter in his left side pocket, stained with blood from his head injury and sticky.
She set it on the wood floor to smooth it out, careful as she peeled the flaps apart, making sure that, despite the run of ink inside, she didn't add to the ruin.
There were a lot of the words inside that she couldn't make out, but thankfully the bits and pieces she could suggested that he'd delivered copies of his notes on the book to a scholar. Unfortunately, she couldn't make out the name or where that could be. She folded it closed, tucked it into her pocket and stood, hopeful that the contents of the letter had been a mere failed aim.
"Seems our chilled acquaintance didn't have time to finish the second book."
Ciri moved to look over Yennefer's shoulder at the letter in her hands, unable to glean but a few words before the sorceress had tucked it away.
"Does that mean we have nothing to search for? Or that we're looking for an incomplete book?"
"I guess either is a possibility."
All the man's personal effects were all over the place. If it wasn't in this half of the ship, there was a distinct possibility it might be in the other half at the bottom of the ocean or lost to the current.
Yennefer covered the mage back up and then slowly stood, heading back to the bookshelf to continue looking through the books.
"If you come across any other letters, notes, or anything relating to his first book about the djinn, keep it to one side. It might contain the name of the scholar he mentioned."
"Noted," Ciri said and continued the search for anything on djinns. She nudged some debris aside with her foot. "And you're absolutely certain there's just one copy? Would be a shame if we're doing all this work if there are several copies in the bookshops of Novigrad."
"Yes, I'm certain. Var Ypsis might have been rash and made a trivial mistake that got him killed, but he wasn't an idiot. To put material out there like this in droves would be dangerous. It's already dangerous. A lot of people want to tame djinns. For good reason."
Yennefer motioned a hand and five books jumped from the shelf at once, hovering in the air, their pages fanning out as if caught in a breeze, her eyes fixed on the floor in case anything fell out.
"What would you wish for if you were able?"
"Considering yours and Geralt's luck? Nothing," Ciri snorted, throwing another few books into the discarded pile. "Though if the wish was foolproof, I'd wish Eredin and his riders out of existence."
"Fair wish. Let's say Eredin wasn't in the picture, the battle was over – we won – what else would you wish for? Riches? A home?"
Yennefer checked the books one at a time to see their writing, dismissing them to the pile when they proved useless, moving onto the next with another twist of her wrist.
"I don't know," Ciri smiled, bashful. "A good life. You and I travelling with Geralt through perilous areas, slaying monsters... you know, normal girly things."
"You don't need a djinn to make that happen," Yennefer mused, smiling at Ciri softly. She couldn't wait to solve that problem for Ciri so she could be free.
Yennefer focused on her floating books, bending to pick up the half bits and pieces that fluttered to the floor. She inspected them, pocketed the paper and then tossed the books to the dismiss pile.
She made a motion for the next load and saw another something flutter to the floor at Ciri's feet. Another letter.
Ciri followed the line of Yennefer's gaze and bent to retrieve the paper at her feet.
The sheet had been ripped from the top, most of the text missing except for a few legible sentences.
"The last delivery has been made. Your fee awaits you in Novigrad at Vivaldi's Bank." Ciri handed the sorceress the slip of paper. "This make any sense to you?"
Yennefer checked the books, keeping one aside before tossing the rest and took the slip of paper from Ciri. She read it over herself.
"None. But at least it's something to follow up on."
Yennefer slid the piece of paper into her coat to join the first letter and looked at the mess they'd made. There were only a handful of books left on the shelf and, from the looks of them, she didn't think they would hold very many answers.
She checked them, anyway.
When she was done, she stepped away from it entirely, focusing on the floor, muttering the same incantation she had when she'd sailed with Geralt to be able to look through the density of the wood to see if anything was stashed.
Ciri didn't disturb Yennefer while she worked her magic, and instead knelt beside the dead man. Yennefer had already checked his pockets, so Ciri didn't bother replicating the action.
She looked him over once more and eventually moved to tug the man's boot off. First one, then the other.
Ciri briefly worried the feet would come off as well, but the frost luckily saved them from that experience.
"It's where I would hide something precious," she explained, having caught Yennefer's dubious look. "I once overheard a story back at grandmother's court about spies who, when caught by the enemy, would take their own lives with poison instead of suffering through torment and interrogation. Some of these spies..." Ciri reached into one boot, her fingers searching the lining, "...had clothes with special secret pockets made. For concealment."
The first boot held nothing, but the second...
Ciri withdrew her hand and peered down at a circular stone in her palm. It was dark and smooth and one side carried a carving of a symbol Ciri was not familiar with.
She held it up for Yennefer's inspection.
"What is this? A trinket for luck?" She cast a look at the wrecked ship. "If so, I think it's broken."
"It's a key," Yennefer replied after a second's inspection of the symbol etched into the stone. "Reputable mages with a good handle of the craft sometimes use it to store their personally crafted spells or anything else they consider valuable. Thieves dismiss it unless they're actually aware of its meaning as nothing more than a bauble – as you did."
Yennefer closed her fist around the stone, letting slip a chant to help with its partner's location, an unseen thread that slowly and faintly began to nudge her for the outside. She followed it until she appeared on the boat's edge, an arm extended within the direction of the sea and where she knew the other half of the ship would be found nestled on the seafloor.
"That's inconvenient," Yennefer muttered.
Ciri followed Yennefer up on deck and eyed the thread of her magic, squinting to see where it ended in the distance. "I take it that is the rest of this ship? And we have to go down there?"
"If we want to know what he treasures – we do."
Yennefer closed her hand around the stone and slid it into her pocket along with the letters.
"We'll have to get a boat. Unfortunately, the location of the shipwreck is between the isles and opening a portal there or even just going down there is going to be inconceivably hard as we don't know where the other piece of the puzzle is."
They'd also have to find someone to go down there. Easily solved for a few crowns. Yennefer could make them forget afterward.
She scanned the deck, studying the room they'd been inside for the last hour and then what remained of the boat. There was nothing else to check.
"We have quite a bit of daylight left, but I'm not too sure I trust the weather holding up. I think we're done for the day."
"So we're not going down there immediately?" Ciri asked, a little disappointed. "I can be the one to dive. I can't hold my breath as long as a witcher but I can get myself out a lot quicker."
Yennefer could portal Ciri directly there since she'd been to the very spot before. However, she also knew it was dangerous and that there was a real risk of Ciri getting as sick.
"You'll get sick. You could also get hurt."
She also wouldn't be able to keep a close eye on Ciri.
Ciri grinned crookedly. "The same can be said about setting foot outside the door of Dandelion's inn. Come on, Yennefer. Can you really trust anyone as much as me?"
"No, of course not… it has nothing to do with trust," Yennefer argued, flashing back to what Kain had said in the temple gardens. She touched a chilled hand to Ciri's cheek. "I don't want you to get hurt and that water – it's freezing. There's sirens down there. Other creatures I can't even recall. Have you ever faced something similar before?"
Only that night when Ciri had taken a boat out to the tower and ended up getting attacked by sirens. Griffin had saved her then.
"Sort of, but it's different now. I can use my powers if I get in trouble."
"It's a long way down to the bottom. How are you going to be able to breathe?"
Ciri would be down there longer than Geralt was because they'd be looking for something specific. Yennefer, of course, could help her point it out – but it would take time – and trying to slow Ciri's heart as she'd done for Geralt would be dangerous. Ciri wasn't a mutant, she was human, and to do something like that would weaken her. There was another means… she could spell something…
"I was thinking of holding my breath," Ciri revealed but didn't fight her cause further. For now.
"There's a town not too far off from here. We'll go there, get a few items and a boat."
"Do you know how to use a boat?" Ciri asked the sorceress with a grin. Yennefer was so glamorous it was hard to imagine her doing any kind of physical work.
"I do. Do you know how to use a boat?" Yennefer asked, bringing up one of her hands, summoning a new portal. She took Ciri's hand and before long the two appeared on the other side, a short distance away from prying eyes, on the main road leading into the small fishing community.
"Yes. Boats, that is. Not ships. As far as I understand one can't run a ship with just one person."
With her hand still in Yennefer's, Ciri started towards the small village up ahead. She wasn't sure if she had been here before or not. It was quite possible; Crach an Craite had taken her to several of the islands when she'd visited as a child.
Yennefer and Ciri stood out among the people and were approached almost at once by competitive fishmongers, tailors, and a child hopeful about making an oren from the innkeeper. Yennefer dismissed them. Usually, she liked to walk around as hidden as possible, but her venture was unplanned and in order to achieve it she needed to shop. And she did, studying every stall, checking every herb they had to offer until eventually, she found a few she could use. She needed another means to make sure Ciri would be safe beneath the water and that she could breathe and the only way to do that was to spell a device.
Thereafter she'd have to take a break from the magic. At least for a bit.
Yennefer's hand disappeared into one of her coat pockets, removing a couple of crowns, all of which she stuffed into Ciri's.
"Go negotiate a boat for the morning. I'll meet you at the inn."
"Will do." Ciri had to admit she felt quite pleased about this turn of events. She was given more responsibility than she would had she still been that young girl under Yennefer's tutelage. And Geralt's for that matter.