"You know where to find me",Geralt's voice echoed in her head. Ciri absentmindedly played with the silver amulet around her neck. It could never replace the one she had lost in her fight with the Witches of Crookback Bog, but Yennefer had assured her that it would instead react when Geralt needed her most. Yennefer didn't specify by how, but Ciri held on to it nevertheless, somehow making it an accessory to every outfit she wore or was forced into by her chamberlain; her current outfit being a simple white blouse and black riding pants.

"Your Majesty?" An inquiring voice called her from her thoughts. The beady-eyed noble awaited her response, albeit probably not the response she was going to give him.

"Yes, I see your point, however…" The chain rattled against her neck, sent in motion by the humming amulet. A tingling sensation ran through her body and she saw him briefly. A whisper of an image. Torn. Beaten. Dying.

"Your Majesty?" The noble said again, adjusting the crimson scarf wrapped around his neck with an index finger. Apparently, he had tied it too tight prior to their meeting.

Ciri cleared her throat, trying to prevent concern from showing on her face. Relief came in the form of a knock on the door. A man she barely recognized as one of the palace runners peeked his head inside. "I don't mean to intrude on your meeting, your Imperial Majesty, but the Lady Yennefer has asked to see you. She says it is quite urgent." The young empress nodded at the messenger, and the young man swiftly returned to his other duties.

With the man's leave, a practiced smile spread on Ciri's face. She stood slowly, pushing up from the ancient desk on gloved fingers. "It's unfortunate, but it looks like I am needed elsewhere. We will need to continue this another time, Lord…" She paused trying to recall the man's name.

"… Cedrick, your Majesty." The noble finished for her. "I'm sure the Lady could wait a few more…"

"I'm afraid not, Lord Cedrick. We will convene again some other time. For now it appears I have other matters to attend." Ciri stepped quickly, her boot heels clicking harshly against the marble flooring as she restrained herself from straight-out running from the room. The amulet was shaking vigorously now and it threatened to snap the chain holding it around her neck. She stilled it in her hand as if smothering a screaming child.

XxxxX

Once clear of the Imperial guards outside the receiving room, she flew down the hall towards the tower the sorceress had claimed as her own. In her hurry, she almost passed by Yennefer completely.

"Ciri! Slow down. What's wrong?" Yennefer asked, having no idea of Ciri's vibrating amulet. The sorceress had merely sent the messenger to pull Ciri from the office the young empress had sat in for the past few days dealing with the endless trivialities of court.

Ciri released her white-knuckled grip on the amulet and let it swing free. The sorceress' brilliantly violet eyes widened as her eyes fell upon the quivering talisman. Instantly she knew the source of Ciri's duress.

Without another word, the black-haired woman grabbed the slender wrist of the ashen-haired empress and nearly dragged Ciri through the door to her tower.

"When did it start?' Asked Yennefer, closing the door tightly behind them to prevent any unwanted eavesdropping. Her painted lips pursed tightly.

"Recently…"

"Good. Then we may have some time." Yennefer placed a black gloved hand on a shapely hip as she did so often in nervous habit.

"Time?" Concern flickered to Ciri's emerald eyes. "Yennefer, in how much trouble is Geralt in?"

"Enough that those potions of his aren't doing him any good." Yennefer met Ciri's eyes and saw the internal turmoil that lay there. "Ciri, I need you to focus. Do you know where he is?"

Ciri tried to think back to the faded image that she had seen, but there had been nothing recognizable. Tears welled up in her eyes. "No, it went by too fast. I saw a shed. Maybe. It was hard to tell." She was on the verge of crying, the reality of a dreaded possibility dawning on her. "Witchers never die in their sleep", a voice softly reminded her.

Yennefer lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Ciri. Being overwhelmed now isn't going to help. I know it's hard, but I need you to calm down." She gave Ciri a weak smile as similar emotions were beginning to show on the surface on her own icy composure. Soothed slightly, Ciri nodded. "That's right. Now concentrate on what you saw, on what you felt at that moment, let the amulet guide you."

Ciri bit her lip and did as she was told. With the amulet clamped tightly in her grip, she closed her eyes. She turned her focus to the faint image.

A fire now burned down to coals. Water dripping through a neglected roof. The usual heady smell of earth cleared away by the recent rainfall. But there was something else. The stench of metal permeated the air.

No, not metal; blood. And a lot of it. The vision wavered, but only for a moment as Ciri squeezed the amulet, letting its pointed edges dig into her fleshy palm. Yennefer remained quiet, watching her wearily.

A horse. A bay, stood nearby, bizarrely unconcerned with the limp form propped up beside it. The familiar gleam of a silver long sword lay fallen beside the man. Blood, not yet dry, streaked his naked torso and partially stained the dirty wooden slats below. A crimson soaked bundle of cloth lay loosely against his shoulder, a hand laying atop the pile that had been applying pressure to staunch the flow. The man's prematurely greyed hair, partially pulled free from the half-ponytail tied high on the back of his head, hung loose around his face. Geralt's golden eyes closed tight in a grimace of pain and exhaustion.

Instantly she knew where he was and realized that they wouldn't make it on time traveling by any conventional means. But she alone could do it. She could reach him. Hopefully before it was too late.

The air around her shimmered with a pale-blue light. Space and time itself twisted and bent around her. An instant later she was gone, vanishing completely from the Nilfgaardian palace.

XxxxX

There had been signs of a struggle in the muck, but with what Ciri couldn't immediately tell. Her own witcher training made her hesitate, but she ran for the dilapidated shack despite herself. She stumbled, slowed momentarily by the clinging mud.

Inside, the horse looked up at her approach and eyed her warily. "Geralt?" Her voice barely above a whisper. He was pale, paler than she had ever seen him, and still. Far too still.Her legs collapsed, suddenly unable to support her weight. "Geralt." She knelt beside him and lay her head upon his chest, careful of his wounds. Why was he so cold? So very cold.Her arms snaked around his body as she fought back tears. "Not like this …" She breathed into his good shoulder. Ciri's grip tightened as she squeezed her eyes shut. Tears ran down her face, streaking her black eyeliner. "Not like this."

Uttering a soft moan, he stirred under her ever so slightly, the sound pulling Ciri to her senses. She hugged him once more before teleporting them back to where Yennefer was still likely waiting.