Yennefer had listened to Dijkstra go, her gaze shifting to the guards on either side the cells, remembering the last time she'd been holed away for nothing.
That hadn't turned out so well, and she doubted this time would be any better. Ebert Graf had been prying too hard on her information and he was too desperate for her guilty conviction. Otherwise, why bother? If he wanted answers, Vivaldi had them. So what was he really after? A scapegoat? Dijkstra had said as much and she wouldn't put it past the entitled scoundrel to do something like that for his own benefit, probably to use her to serve as a warning.
Worse still, what was Geralt going to think once he found out why Yennefer was in chains, to begin with, and what Ciri had done? That still concerned her. She was out there now, alone, unattended, and with no one to keep a close eye on her and keep her from doing anything reckless.
Desperately Yennefer reached out to try and focus on the piece of jewelry that linked her and Geralt, wincing when all it did was fill her with aching pain and nausea. Useless. She couldn't do magic because of the dimeritium and he probably wouldn't have heard her anyway. He hadn't the previous two times she'd tried.
She felt herself grow marginally lightheaded from the minor attempt at combating the shackles and moved to lean against the wall to prop herself. Thankfully they were cleaner than most prisons.
Yennefer dipped to her haunches and had her head practically between her knees when she heard movement in the cell and looked up to see Philippa.
"You can go."
"So precious," Philippa chortled and made a sweeping gesture around them to silence their conversation. Then she folded her arms, observing Yennefer with conceited mirth. "Can't take one's eyes off you for a minute, dear thing. What have you done this time, mm?"
"Too vigorous a banking, apparently. It seems asking questions about one's monetary affairs has become a crime."
"They're going to check the address in that letter," Philippa sneered. "So whether you tell me or not matters little. What I want to know is whether you did it? All four dwarven clans are thrashing in tantrums, and however hilarious it might be, the city is in chaos we can't afford. How hard was it to simply remember the damn address and leave without all of this? Truly, I'm amazed by your reckless stunt. It's like you're finally losing your mind, Yennefer of Vengerberg."
"Maybe I have lost it," Yennefer retorted, straightening up with the use of the wall. It didn't matter, as she doubted very much that the person holding onto the next piece of information would give it up for the sake of some inquisition. "As I informed the man upstairs, I haven't robbed your bank. Like I told your ex-lover, I had absolutely no reason to or need for it. We're already at war. Only it seems he doesn't care to listen to reason. So, why are you here?"
"To let you out." Philippa gave a small nasty smile. "The secret service would pin it on you. They have close to nothing, except for that letter - Vivaldi sang like a nightingale explaining how you demanded a letter for another mage's name and he denied you. The only damn thing to be taken for a conflict of interests."
"If I believed you were here to let me out that would really make me crazy," Yennefer countered, unperturbed that Vivaldi told them anything. The likelihood that anyone holding onto the letter would even hand it over was slim. That's if that was even what lay at the end of that address. "Are you here to lecture me?"
Philippa snapped her fingers, and one of the guards approached to take the shackles off Yennefer's wrists. The other walked the sorceresses out of the headquarters. Philippa took Yennefer under her arm as if they were best friends gossiping on their promenade.
"We need to kill this scandal before it blows out even more," Philippa said. "You better pray your witcher returns soon enough to pin this idiocy on some incredible creature, otherwise you will be it." She let go of the raven-haired mage and nudged her. "Go back to the inn. Try to walk faster."
With that, she turned and walked away.
It wasn't as scary as Ciri's tone implied, or how Zoltan's mind had tried to paint the whole ordeal.
After a minor dizziness the dwarf had overcome quite soon, he darted toward the city walls where even from the outskirts of the village they saw all the traders that couldn't get in.
"Yee so lucky to have them ways, Zolt," Valtis said counting money while Zoltan dragged the boxes from his cart into the bushes where Ciri waited. "Me thought it's all gone - we need them money for them new seeds and such. Thank yee. Good dealin, good dealin."
"Of course, pal," the dwarf said, pulling the last sack of potatoes. "I'd be as lost."
"Good dealin," the man agreed, smiling so his chubby cheeks turned his small eyes into slits. "Yee sure yee pull them foods from there?"
"No problem," Zoltan nodded and patted the man's back. "Ye go now."
"Me goes now, aye," the man agreed and gathered his mule's reins. He waved a hand and went, the empty cart rolling toward the road where some others began to retreat. No one offered them any news on when the city opened.
"Perfect," Zoltan rubbed his hands when they were in the basement. "I'll sort it later. Now we get the liquors. Listen, lassie, there's this ship outside the harbor, gold and red, name's Baronness. We need to rent a boat in the village outside and row to them."
It was more of a drag to transport the boxes from the ship to shore, and then to the cover of shrubs and trees from where they could teleport them, and both Zoltan and Ciri were tired by the time they got back to the inn.
Yennefer was at one of the tables, a mug of ale in front of her.
"See!" Zoltan cried, grinning. "Told ye this mage won't stay locked away. Ha!"
"Yennefer!" Ciri exclaimed, rushing to the sorceress. "Did they harm you?"
Yennefer leaped from the table as soon as Ciri entered the dining hall from the basement, meeting her halfway, pulling her tightly into her arms. The maids had assured her that the girl had returned at some point after the interrogation the morning, but the more time passed, the less Yennefer believed and had worried something else had gone wrong. She'd only been able to relax when she saw Ciri with her own two eyes.
"No, I'm fine. Where have you been? Have you been down there all this time?"
"Aye, we were. Ciri was helpin me," Zoltan put in, carrying an armful of bottles to the bar. "Now we can open and astonish Novigrad with our abundance, haha!"
He set the battery of bottles on the counter and opened the accounting book.
"How did ye get out?" he asked the enchantress.
"Yes, how did you get out?" Ciri repeated, looking the sorceress over for signs of damage despite her reassurances. "Was it Dijkstra?"
"Philippa let me out," Yennefer answered. She wasn't trying to hide that fact.
When she'd first walked out of the building, she'd expected one of the guards or some other official to drag her back in by the hair. No one had. Not even once she'd reached the inn. She wasn't sure it wouldn't still happen. She had gone upstairs to check the room and found it to be cleaned. They had taken away her luggage chest and searched through all drawers and bedding. The makeup, the perfumes, and her hairbrush, however, were still untouched on the vanity table.
"I'm not too sure why," she added. "I would have thought she'd take advantage of this opportunity since Dijkstra seems set to make me an example."
"He wouldn't!" the dwarf scoffed. "Geralt would rip him a new arsehole."
"We all would," Ciri replied.
"He will. He said as much. Someone has to pay," Yennefer said, no longer all that concerned about that outcome. When it came she'd deal with it.
Ciri fixed Yennefer with a curious look. "What questions did they ask of you? Was it about the bank or... did they want to know your life story?"
"They asked me about the bank, what I did there, what other question I had to ask – which I said they could find out from Vimme – but it wasn't enough. What did they ask you?"
"About you, Geralt, Kain, my relationship to you all. As well as my education and other details from my childhood. Nothing of the bank at all."
"And what did you tell him? A highlight…"
Zoltan watched them, frowning in thought while opening a bottle of Kovirian wine.
"More or less," Ciri said. "Without revealing my true identity." She frowned. "Though Dijkstra knows. I suppose he may have told Ebert."
"Then he let you leave? That was it? He didn't say he'd want to see you again?"
"He said we were finished for now. Not quite certain what to make of that."
"Make it that yer free, then," Zoltan said, approaching them with the bottle and cups. "Unless ye guilty."
"She's not," Yennefer retorted, shooting a glance at Zoltan. "Neither of us is. But that doesn't mean he is going to care to listen. Maybe you should meet Kain and Geralt and stay away from Novigrad a few more days until all of this starts to die away."
"Me?" Ciri asked, perplexed. "Don't be preposterous. I am not leaving you."
"No one's leavin," Zoltan said. "It'll blow off soon enough one way or another. But if they got their eyes on ye and either of ye leaves, it's like confession."
"There's nothing to confess," retorted Yennefer, "because she never did anything. All she did was accompany me on an errand. They can't fault or stop her because of that."
"You're right," Ciri agreed. "They can't stop me. But they can punish you for it. It is out of the question. I am done hiding, remember?"
"Then listen to me. I'm not asking you to hide, Ciri, I'm asking you to live. This isn't your problem and you have enough to deal with when it comes to the Wild Hunt." Yennefer knew how these things could go as she'd dealt with a lot of politics. She suspected that more could happen should Geralt and Kain reach the city, too. She'd rather they stayed away and took Ciri with them. She also wouldn't mind if Zoltan went with them.
"I already told you my decision, Yennefer," Ciri said firmly. "You won't be able to sway my mind. Accept it."
"What is this rubbish, anyway?" Zoltan winced, annoyed and puzzled. "If none of ye did anythin, then why this talk? We stay put and open the damn cabaret, and then find a way to smuggle in Dandelion and the witchers. Then we decide what we do about this banking mess."
"Consider it accepted," Yennefer after a beat. Ciri could be as stubborn as she was at times and she didn't want to force a situation where what Kain confided in them turned out to be true. "You should still find Kain and Geralt and warn them. They've taken quite a while to get back, anyway."
Ciri was reluctant. The humiliation and heartache of Kain's rejection still fresh in mind.
"I'm sure they'll be here soon enough. They will probably sneak into the city and find us."
"I'm sure they'll be here any hour," Zoltan said, finishing his drink. "Ciri... the secret service lads were here, searched the rooms. I had no time to check after them. Could ye go see if they took anything of yers?"
"Will do," Ciri agreed after a moment's hesitation.
She had another large gulp of her ale, then headed upstairs.
The room she and Yennefer had used for the past few days didn't look much different at all except for one glaring fact – Yennefer's chest of belongings was missing.
Ciri was not entirely certain of all the contents in there but assumed the secret service had taken an interest in the magical ingredients and tools. Didn't matter that the witch hunts had stopped for now.
Other, more mundane belongings, such as Yennefer's flask of perfume and her hairbrush still lay neatly on the vanity. The bedsheets were rumpled and the mattress slightly askew. It didn't take Ciri long to note that Amos's letter was gone as well.
"Damn it," Ciri muttered under her breath. What did that mean for Yennefer?
She proceeded to check the other rooms available, as well, but of course, they had nothing of importance, to begin with. The familiar askew bedsheets told her that every room had been searched, however.
She paused outside Avallac'h's door, hand raised to knock, then decided against it. She feared he would be able to see right through her, and though she doubted the elf would throw Ciri into the jaws of the authorities, she wasn't eager for a new confrontation. Best left for another time.
Zoltan poured himself another drink, watching Yennefer shrewdly, silent for as long as Ciri jogged up the stairs.
"Can ye tell me now in all honesty that ye didn't make lassie do anythin she'd regret?" he asked when Ciri was out of earshot.
"I can tell you I didn't make her do anything," Yennefer said, not really lying as much as she was omitting part of the truth. "They didn't question you?"
"Nothin more than a few questions," he said. "I'm just an innkeeper." He drained his cup and gave Yennefer a grave look, producing an envelope from the back pocket of his breeches. "This has Vivaldi stamp," he stated. "Ye sure there's nothin I should know?"
Yennefer's lips quirked slightly.
"I suppose I can tell you since you saved my letter. That, in your hand, has to do with finding more information on a djinn. A book. Care to know more than that?"
"A djinn?" Zoltan grimaced. "I don't think I ought to know of any djinns. But that better not concern Ciri. She needs no more problems with any magic shite yer up to, Yennefer. Ye gotta promise me that."
"It doesn't," Yennefer assured. It hadn't until last night. Ciri had been helping her, or that had been the idea, until it all went wrong.
He handed her the letter and waved a hand toward the kitchen. "Yer coffer's in the cellar, the furthest corner. Bloody heavy, I should say. I ain't draggin it back up, either."
She took the letter, opening it so she could inspect it before destroying it as per Philippa's suggestion in the dungeon. It was too risky to keep now. "You're a saint," she commented even as her gaze skimmed the lettering, her fingertips grazing an etching in the page that seemed to ignite beneath them. A magic watermark. Dammit. If she was to get what she was looking for she was going to have to keep it. "Thank you for saving it from them. If anything, I think I'll keep it down there for a while longer. If that's all right with you?" Yennefer asked, looking up, deciding to give the dwarf a little respect given what he'd done for her.
"It's a cellar," he peered at her ironically. "Foods and wines are stored there. Once we open tonight, our cooks will go there and back. Ye don't want that. Take it back and hide better."
"Why are you opening to the public, to begin with?" Yennefer asked with all seriousness, folding up the letter so she could return it to its envelope. "What about the Wild Hunt?"
"The city is closed, and people are antsy! They need a place to feel better, to chat with others about their ordeals. It's good for business and for keepin a straight face to all them authorities and secret services. We got nothin to fear or hide. If we stay closed, people forget us, and it's bad for business, as ye damn well know yerself."
He filled both their cups.
"Ye didn't steal that letter, did ye?"
"Do you really want an honest answer to that?" Yennefer asked, sliding the letter into the top of her shirt so that she could nestle it against her breast, and for the time keep it from prying eyes should someone walk into the dining hall.
Zoltan grimaced, his cup frozen halfway to his lips. He lowered it and cussed under his breath, shaking his head.
"Ye don't joke around with this, Yennefer," he reprimanded. "All four dwarven banks are thrashed, they say. Some trinkets stolen, but all guards gone, plain gone. Floors bloody, and no bodies found. All four of them damn banks! What coulda done it, ye say? All in one night!"
Yennefer smiled grimly, but inside another needle of dreadful recognition pricked her in the gut.
"Your guess is as good as mine on that one."
"Do ye even have one?" he chortled and drank. "Whatever it is, they want Geralt to aid them, I know as much."
"Yes, Djikstra said as much about Geralt." How satirical that her life would be in his hands again because she was seeking something to do with the djinn. "Hopefully he'll arrive soon."
"Something held 'em," Zoltan mused. "Maybe even the damn blockade. Unless they went to Oxenfurt first. Woulda made sense."
"They took your chest," Ciri said when she descended the stairs, coming to a halt at their table. "Left some cosmetics, but they've rummaged through everything else."
"Of course they did," Zoltan huffed.
"Zoltan managed to save some of my possessions," Yennefer assured. She'd already seen the damage. "Did they take anything of yours?"
"No." Ciri thought for a moment. "But I don't really have anything."
"The sorceresses skipped off someplace, so did yer elf," Zoltan said. "Not much else to pick through up there."
"Philippa doesn't stay here anymore?"
"They don't report to me," the dwarf said. "I don't see any of them, nor do I miss their presence. Good riddance."
Yennefer said, "I didn't think they would, but given the fact that they take up of your rooms, I figured you'd keep a better account."
"Perhaps they are out recruiting now they can wander town freely again?" Ciri suggested. "You know, new mages for their guild."
"I bet yer Philippa has her claws all up in Dijkstra's business," said Zoltan, "and others might be back in Oxenfurt. None of them returned yet."
Yennefer nodded, "Philippa definitely has her hand in somewhere or I wouldn't be sitting here."
"Question is, what does she expect in return?" Ciri asked cautiously.
"She won't forget to tell ye, don't ye worry," Zoltan snorted.
"Zoltan's right. When we need to know, we'll know, and I doubt we'll be pleased about it."
"When we finish with The Hunt we can kill her." The words slipped from Ciri so quickly and casually even she was surprised.
She attempted a smile to recover.
"I'm jesting, of course. What I mean is, we only have to put up with them until this is all over."
In the past, and as a joke, Yennefer would have agreed mockingly, but there was nothing funny about the comment Ciri had made with what she remembered from the night before.
"Hopefully that won't be for much longer."
Zoltan glanced between them ironically. "Ye think we're close to beating the Hunt? Seems like the opposite to me for now."
He finished his wine and smacked his lips.
"I better take my behind to the pantry and sort the foods. Ye get some rest, ladies."
When the witchers and their three exhausted companions crossed into Lindenvale, it was past that time when farmers return from their fields for a supper break when the sun appears to be the hottest. Only there was no sun in sight: there were swollen thunderclouds hanging in the sky, getting darker. Soon enough something flashed in their gut, and it thundered - like a giant nut being cracked open. Soon enough the first heavy drops fell down, paving the way for a hailstorm.
They could've gotten there sooner, but given the poor state of the three survivors and their inability to travel on foot, Geralt had decided to head for the Reardon manor first. It took them about two hours instead of the fourth of it due to constant stops: the three men could not contain what they had drunk the night before, nor stay straight on horseback. Kain and Geralt had to walk leading their mounts with the villagers riding them. Dolores Reardon honored her gratitude for Geralt's previous service and let them have the old cart from her barn. She still owned no horse and had no use for it.
Roach had strictly refused to play the mule, and Onyx didn't seem concerned with being chosen for the assignment. Even with the cart and both witchers on their mounts, they couldn't afford to put some pep into their journey, for the three men were still sickly and weak.
Two of them were taken into care by Lindenvale people, and the third was reunited with his wife and her mother.
"Bad luck," muttered Geralt, watching the hailstorm through the tavern window, sipping his ale. A plate of fried potatoes with mushrooms remained untouched - he felt too tired to eat.
Kain was trying to deal with his, but with not much enthusiasm. He could barely keep his eyes open. They had caught less than two hours of uneasy slumber before rising for the journey.
He eyed his brother pensively. "What do you plan to do?"
Geralt rubbed his eyes burning from the lack of sleep. "We need rest. And then we need to go back to the bog and find the godlings."
Kain sighed and drank his ale. "We can't linger that long without letting Yennefer and Ciri know we're alive and merely busy."
"I don't want Ciri to know about it, remind her of the bog."
"Fair reservation, but scarcely manageable. You can't keep her in the dark."
"I can say it's a contract."
"She'll want to do it with you." Kain forked a mushroom and sent it to his mouth.
Geralt heaved a sigh. "I don't know. I need to think of something."
"She catches on the slightest attempts to keep her at arm's length and is touchy about it."
"I know." Geralt rubbed his face and looked at his cooling meal morosely. "What do you suggest we do?"
"Dropping by Oxenfurt before following this bog tail might not be amiss."
Geralt thought of Dijkstra and winced. Then looked out the window. Hail pitter-pattered against the glass, lightning flashed, followed by a belated thunder blast.
The Witcher picked up his fork and attempted to snack.
"You think we should leave this and focus on the Hunt and Sunstone mission like Avallac'h suggested?" he asked, forking his potatoes.
"Sounds about right," Kain mused, "but if you think about it... Even if we get that Sunstone, gather our forces, and manage to draw the elven army to our chosen battlefield, it doesn't guarantee our victory. In the meantime, we have those scout units in the bog. We have no idea whether there are more, or if more are going to sneak in. It doesn't seem wise to ignore it, either."
"Hmm."
Ciri didn't immediately move as Zoltan excused himself and went to tend to his business. She drank her ale and waited until she and Yennefer were alone. "The letter is gone."
"Zoltan managed to save it for me," Yennefer said, patting at the space on her body where it warmed against her skin beneath her clothes. "What I don't understand is how Philippa knew about the information. The address. Unless she was the one to give it to Zoltan…"
Ciri squinted in thought. "Is it possible she's had access to Amos's vault?"
"Perhaps. She is power-hungry and too close to Dijkstra. She probably has access to everything he and secret service are occupying themselves with, all information they dig up she gains, I'm sure."
"Right." Ciri paused, casting a quick glance around to make sure they were alone. Then she leaned in. "I placed a copy of the letter back in the vault."
"You what?" Yennefer asked, leaning in closer. "Why would you do that? When did you do that?"
"Last night when you were away," Ciri smiled. "Because I knew if they had found the letter to be missing, you would be their very first and best suspect."
Yennefer was grateful for that now to some extent, but it still concerned her, it worried her that Ciri had done so without consulting her. She nodded. At least that was one thing explained. But what of the four other banks?
"What do you think happened with the other banks?"
"What other banks?" Ciri inquired, eyes wide.
She knew, of course. She knew very well what had happened. But someone had yet to mention to her more than one bank had been breached. How did Yennefer know?
Yennefer frowned slightly. She'd have thought that Master Interrogator would have provided her with that information already. Perhaps he'd limited it, too.
"Apart from the bank we visited last night, three others were pilfered from as well. Dijkstra is under the impression that I made an ambiguous excursion and that I'm desperate for finance."
"Then Dijkstra is an idiot," Ciri scoffed. "How could you possibly have traveled all over town and wreaked such havoc without the aid of your magic? It has to be someone else."
Her mouth twisted in a sly grin. "Someone special."
Yennefer was about to clarify that she did have magic, that from Dijkstra's perspective it made sense, but that he didn't quite grasp how tiring it was – that she didn't have the ability to move that quickly or to subdue that many guards at once. And they were missing. Or so they'd claimed, if Zoltan was anything to go by.
"You?" Yennefer asked as Ciri's concluding words dawned on her. Her stomach had dropped, her gaze transfixed on her face. "Why—why would you do that?"
"I should have thought that's obvious," Ciri said. "To throw the suspicion off you. Each one of those banks has security measures in place that block magic. Your kind of magic. And with the chaos and number of banks hit in one night, they will soon realize it is impossible for one person to be the culprit. It is much more likely to be the work of a criminal hanza taking advantage of the city in its weakened state. And, since the letter still resides within Amos's vault, the motive of the crime committed does not make sense to be placed with you."
She beamed, proud.
Yennefer had to admit that the thought behind the action was solid, but she couldn't quite bring herself to match Ciri's smile.
"Are the rumors of the guards true? Are they truly missing?"
"I suppose so. Until their bodies are found." Ciri drained the last of her mead.
Yennefer sat back in her chair at a loss of what to say. She was trying to wrap her head around how Ciri had thought that covering up one lot of bodies needed to be masked by three more lots? How long had Yennefer been gone? An hour? How'd Ciri managed to achieve that in such a short amount of time? Why would she—the girl who wanted to save people—do something like that? An image of Ciri's laugh the night before played through her mind, followed by the smile Yennefer had seen on her face when she'd returned from getting rid of the other trinkets they'd stolen and found her in bed. Ciri had been happy then, she was indifferent now, as if she didn't care or feel anything about what she'd done.
Yennefer didn't say anything, so Ciri assumed they were done with the topic.
She felt a tad disappointed. She'd expected Yennefer to be proud, to praise her for her clever ideas and bravery. But perhaps that was not something one did with adults. Only children who were still being taught.
So Ciri did not linger on the thought.
"I suppose you will have to wait for a bit before you can seek out the address in the letter?"
Yennefer nodded absentmindedly. The letter and following up to find out the information on the Djinn had become secondary, and a part of her that worried for Ciri regretted involving her at all.
"It's probably best to wait for a few weeks at least."
"Geralt will most likely find out what you're up to by then," Ciri warned. "He may try to stop you."
"Given the fact that Dijkstra is determined to pull Geralt in to solve this crime – I wouldn't be amazed. It might be best to be upfront from the beginning."
"Probably," Ciri agreed. She wasn't certain how Geralt would react, but she imagined he wouldn't be happy. He'd already confided in her he did not want any more magical disturbances to his mind.
"We might take some care to send them a message. Warn them about what's happening in Novigrad before they get here or one of the other officials get to them first."
"Not a bad idea." Ciri sat up a little straighter. "Will you teach me how?"
"You know I would happily do so," Yennefer stated, again finding it odd that she wasn't volunteering to check on them. "Is there a reason you don't want to take it to them in person?"
"I told you," Ciri said, getting to her feet. "I am not leaving town while you are here. Not now.
"I'll go ask Zoltan for some paper and ink."
Yennefer didn't know what to say since Ciri sounded so defensive about it. Had something else happened?
She nodded again. "The sooner we get it done, the better."
Ciri didn't take long in her quest to locate what they needed to write a message, returning to Yennefer after Zoltan had donated some scraps of parchment and a quill.
"What shall we write?" Ciri asked. "If we worry them too much, they will come galloping expecting war."
"Tell them there has been an incident at the Novigrad banks, that both you and I have been questioned and that Dijkstra is looking for him to help solve the mystery. Tell him it's imperative that once he reaches the city – that he comes to see us first."
Ciri scribbled down what Yennefer has said, almost word for word.
When she finished, she put the quill down and held the paper out to Yennefer. "What is the next step?"
"Gently close your hands around the message, push your magic to the forefront where you can feel it in your fingertips, focus on Geralt's face and repeat after me: Tak długo, mój płomieniu, nieś tę wiadomość."
Ciri did as instructed, cradling the sheet of paper and closing her eyes so she could focus on Geralt. It was always easy to find her connection to him.
The words were harder. She faltered twice and was forced to start over before she felt something happening.
A light crackling along the palms of her hands. When she opened them, the paper was gone.
"As long as you have a connection to someone or something – a tangible connection – you'll always be able to send a message or ask for help."
Yennefer took Ciri's hands after she'd completed the task, satisfied that the darkness she worried about hadn't taken her over completely. Yennefer wanted to say something, relay her concerns, but she wasn't sure how to do that without scaring Ciri away.
"I shall remember that."
Perhaps if Ciri had known earlier, she could have found Geralt and Yennefer sooner in the past.
Or perhaps not, considering Ciri had been so disconnected with her magic she had thought it gone forever.
"A shame they will not be able to respond. Unless Kain knows how."
"I'm sure Kain has picked up some form of communication," Yennefer agreed.
"What kind of calamity has happened around here?" asked Margarita, coming down the stairs. "And where is anyone I can ask for two hot meals for me and Triss?"
"A bank robbery, apparently," Ciri replied, looking over her shoulder at the sorceress who had just joined them. "As for a meal, you should ask the maids."
"Where's Triss?" Yennefer asked, seeing Margarita descend the stairs alone. "Is she still bedridden?"
"A robbery!" Margarita raised an eyebrow with surprised amusement. She stopped at their table, folding her arms. "Something new." She looked to Yennefer. "She's upstairs, resting. She's mostly well, just a little fatigue left."
"Didn't Philippa tell you? She seems to be involved in the investigation."
Margarita gave her a bewildered look. "I only just arrived, I haven't seen anyone but you two. Though her involvement doesn't surprise me - surely Dijkstra is, as well." She smiled subtly. "The poet passed his regards," she added, mostly to Ciri. "I believe he wants to wait for Geralt to return here together."
"Why?" Ciri frowned. "Is he frightened?"
Rita shrugged, "Never said so. Nor reported his reasons. Why would I care to ask?" She strolled toward the kitchen, hips swaying, skirts flying in soft waves.
"He was strange the last time I spoke to him," Ciri told Yennefer. "More sensitive than usual. I think this whole Hunt thing is getting to him."
"Who? Geralt?" Yennefer asked after Margarita had left them to tend to getting her food.
"Dandelion," Ciri replied. "He seemed reluctant to come back here at all."
"Do you blame him after Oxenfurt? That was a hard blow. What of his lover? The cheery blonde..."
"I don't know. He was preoccupied with other women when I found him."
"Other women? As in tending to them?"
Ciri hesitated. "More like enjoying an audience to his tales."
"Of course," Yennefer retorted. "He never could shy away from telling a story."
"Is Fringilla around?" Margarita asked, carrying a tray with bowls and a loaf of bread. "I assume Phil isn't."
"Fringilla was around last night," Yennefer answered, shrugging. "I haven't seen her this morning."
"I've yet to see either of them," Ciri added, turning towards Margarita with a curious look. "What was wrong with Triss?"
Rita rolled her eyes, "Caught some ailment from one of the wounded she's been treating. Fever, diarrhea, vomiting, all pleasures of mortal life. Too much magic use made her susceptible, we suppose. That redhead medic put her back together rather artfully, I should admit."
"So the diagnosis is that Triss will live. Good news," Yennefer stated.
"Of course she will," Rita smirked. "Not many mortals die from it, either. Though I'm no expert in their... health predicaments. You can go see her when you like. I'm sure she'll love it. She's been asking about you all constantly."
"You mean Kain and Geralt?" Ciri wagered with an uncertain look. She stood, brushing her hands against her thighs. "I suppose now is as good a time as any. Do you wish to come, Yennefer?"
Rita didn't answer and proceeded for the stairs.
Yennefer considered her choices, and then rose up off her chair. "Zoltan asked me to move my chest from the basement. I'll do that and then join you. Did they rustle up Kain's room much?"
"Not at all," Ciri said. "Nothing to take."
She followed in Margarita's wake and jogged up the stairs to the third floor to find Triss.
That's where Yennefer would keep her chest for now then. He wasn't present to mind. She followed Ciri with her eyes and then headed for the basement.
Triss was fully dressed but resting on her bed. She wasn't asleep and sat up slowly when they came in.
"Ciri!" she beamed with genuine warmth. "Oh, how happy I am to see you all safe and sound! I missed you. Are you all fine? Yennefer? Geralt? I feel so guilty for my ailment that prevented me from coming sooner and with Dandelion, he had to stay behind..."
"We're fine," Ciri assured her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Geralt and Kain are yet to return but they should be on their way. How are you feeling?"
"I'm so much better thanks to Rita and Fringilla - they took turns with Dandelion and that lovely girl, Shani. She helped so much." Triss smiled. "I'm all good now, just a little weak from all the lying down I've been doing."
She accepted a bowl of chicken soup from Margarita and sniffed.
"Smells delicious," she sighed. "Now that I feel I can finally keep it down."
"I am glad you are feeling better," Ciri said with a small smile, watching as Triss took her first tentative spoonful of soup. "And how are things in Oxenfurt? Still chaotic?"
Triss shook her head subtly, darting a quick glance to catch Margarita leaving the room.
"It's almost back to normal now, all buildings repaired by both us and people. Many of the wounded got well, others are getting better." She swallowed another spoonful and peered at Ciri like a kicked dog would. "I'm so immensely sorry about before, Ciri, my darling, I would never suggest any horrible things about you and Kain. Phil... she has her own views which are impossible to sway her from. She has an image of the realm she wants to make real. I don't want to make any enemies, nor make her push me away - then I won't be able to help you and Yennefer in any way."
"What is that image? That Philippa has?" Ciri asked cautiously.
Triss shrugged her shoulders timidly, looking into the bowl. "She doesn't offer her visions as openly as before when we formed the Lodge. But it does include you on a throne where you get the most power to make changes to how the Continent people live. She believes it's your destiny to rule. And that your child - should you have it with the best candidate - would be even more powerful."
Ciri nodded. This was not exactly surprising news.
"And that candidate should be someone of her choosing, I suppose? Like with that Prince... Tankred?"
"King Tankred now," Triss smiled. "He offered me the place of his advisor in Kovir. I thought I would stay there, but then Geralt found you, and the Hunt... All of this started, and I had to return."
Ciri would normally have felt guilt at that. For tearing someone she loved away from where they wanted to be. But she didn't. She didn't feel it at all. Yet she knew she should.
"I'm sorry."
"Oh no!" Triss touched a hand to her cheek gently. "No, Ciri, no regrets. I would always come to your aid. Any time, my little sister. Don't be sorry."
"Will you be able to go back there when this is all over?" Ciri asked.
"I would, of course." She took another spoonful, eyeing Ciri wistfully. "Would you want to go with me and look at that land? Tankred is a wonderful man, very educated, smart and... incredibly handsome. Taking after his father at that."
Ciri rolled her eyes. "I am not breeding with King Tankred. Don't ask me to."
Triss laughed. "I'm not proposing his hand, Ciri - though I'm fairly certain he would ponder it if he met you. I wish for you to meet him and see for yourself what kind of man he is. That is all. One more friendly face in the world never hurts, does it?"
Ciri leaned in a little, elbows on her knees. "Triss, compared to the men at court, I am a savage. Not a one would find me remotely attractive or suitable as a mate."
But what were the chances of this visit even coming to fruition with everything else happening?
"Perhaps once The Hunt is defeated. I would like to see new lands."
Triss smiled warmly. "You're too harsh on yourself for no reason. You're one of the most beautiful princesses I've seen, and I've seen many. Your life, experience, your scar - none of it makes you a savage or anything less than wonderful. You're wonderful, Ciri, you merely need to accept it."
"I don't feel wonderful," Ciri admitted softly, then chose to push through and change the topic. "Are there still things that need to be done in Oxenfurt? Somewhere I can lend my aid?"
"I don't believe so," Triss scraped the spoon over the bottom of the bowl, gathering the last of the soup. "The Academy students and masters alike have done all that we could not, and the citizens have been working hard on repairs. The city looks its old self, save the people's memory. That takes more time to heal."
"If they ever do," Ciri mused. She looked at Triss's empty bowl. "Shall I bring that downstairs for you?"
"Oh, no need, darling. I wanted to take a walk to my house - Fringilla told me it was returned to me after the witch hunt was finished. But with what seems to be going on it's hardly a good idea. It can wait. I can walk around here, though."
"Perhaps then you'd like a companion in that walk," Yennefer said as she stepped into the bedroom. She'd been eavesdropping outside to hear what Triss had to say. It seemed that whenever they talked lately it was devoid of sincerity or honesty – constantly at odds. Yennefer knew they always would be, but it didn't change the fact that they had history, had been through war together on multiple occasions.
Triss beamed, "Of course! My little house must be in a horrible disarray after all the searches by Witch Hunters, but I shall clean it once I can. I'll be glad if you come with me."
"Consider it done," Yennefer responded, returning Triss's smile with a half one of her own. "You're looking far healthier than the last time I saw you."
"I'm much better. You should've seen me two days ago. It was horrible." She looked between them. "Is Geralt all right? And Kain? It's been seven days or so, I've lost track of life..." She rubbed her temple, remembering. "Kain was wounded... and you, Ciri. I'm happy to see you're all right."
"Kain healed," Yennefer said, keeping the information on that limited, saving Ciri from having to explain in depth. "Geralt is healthy, too. They're on their way back from Nenneke's temple. They opted to ride. They should have been here already. We sent them a message. If they don't respond and aren't here come the time we decide we've had enough of the day, we'll have to make a point of searching for them, make sure they didn't find new misfortune."
"They could've been held up," Triss suggested, setting the empty bowl on the tray Rita had left on the table. "You know Geralt, he often is asked for help and rarely refuses."
"Yes, I wouldn't be surprised. They didn't seem in a hurry to return," Ciri said. "They would still be in Ellander if I had not insisted we go back."
"Ellander," Triss grinned. "Oh, I would love to go back there, too. For a little moment of peace. He must have missed Nenneke. I do, too. Has anything changed there?"
Yennefer shook her head once. "Not in the least. I doubt it'll ever change."
"It's good," Triss said dreamily. "There should be places like that in such a turbulent world like ours."
"Why did you choose Novigrad to live in?" Ciri asked curiously. "Because of your students?"
"I have no students," Triss said. "I found work here before the Witch Hunt broke out last year. And then I was in hiding, trying to help my fellow mages, secretly arranging their escape to Kovir where they were welcome thanks to Tankred. If not for Geralt, I'd be caught. I was trying to aid him in finding you until I had to flee. And then I came to Kaer Morhen to fight with you."
"And now you're here again," Yennefer stated, moving to sit down on the foot of the bed. "What are your plans for after we defeat the Wild Hunt? Kovir?"
"Perhaps," Triss said reluctantly. "It's too early to make plans. A great lot of things can happen between now and then."
Yennefer nodded as it was a fair assessment.
She only wondered if her friend meant battle-wise or with where things might go with Geralt. Yennefer didn't doubt for a second that she was keeping a careful eye.