Yennefer paced the decorated room, biting the edges of her thumb nail.

"Yennefer, you're going to wear a hole in the floor." Keira teased from a nearby lounger, though she shared a similar concern. Lambert had yet to arrive as well.

The raven-haired sorceress leaned up against the nearby windowsill, her nose mere wisps from the glass. "I can't help it. Ciri hasn't been sleeping well since he left. I'm worried about her."

"Worried about her, or worried about him? Is Ciri really the only one who hasn't been sleeping well?"

Yennefer cast a glance over her shoulder to the lazing woman. The raven-haired sorceress' expression spoke volumes, but Yennefer would never share how she truly felt. She was much too prideful for that.

Both Keira and Yennefer had been present when Geralt's riderless horse had been found a day's journey from the palace. Its implications were nothing but grim, and as such, were never revealed to the young empress. The secrecy was beginning to eat away at the sorceresses.

"If only there was some way to contact him… so I could let Ciri know he's alright." Yennefer quickly added.

Keira narrowed her eyes in thought. There should be some way to contact… Ah, yes. It had completely slipped her mind. The other half of her Xenovox. She had lent it to the witcher while Geralt was running an errand for her, and since she had little time to think of it during her elopement with Lambert. Now, if he only still has it on his person

She stood and rushed down the halls to her guest suite returning with the little metal box in hand. "It's not a sure thing, but I did give Geralt the other half to this." Keira offered the Xenovox to Yennefer, whose eyes widened in response.

"Is this a Xenovox?" There was admiration in the raven-haired sorceress' voice as she turned the artifact over in her hands.

"Indeed," Keira said somewhat pleased with herself. "But we won't know if Geralt is carrying the receiving piece until we test it."


"Geralt? Hey Geralt, wake up." The witcher started awake as a rush of cold water dribbled down his chin, and he fell from the charcoal-grey horse he'd been slung over. He landed gracelessly on his backside and peered up through the waking haze at Lambert's usual cheeky grin.

He sat up rubbing the last of the sleep and water from his eyes and scrunching up his forehead. "Where? What happened…?" Geralt asked, stretching out his back with a pop. His whole body ached and it wasn't just from the short fall to the dusty road.

"That's what we'd all like to know."

"We?" Geralt looked around, and saw no one for miles save for Lambert and his horse.

"It's for you." Lambert passed him a small metal box with a pair of brass lips embossed on its surface. "Damned thing wouldn't stop yammering at me until I agreed to wake you up."

Geralt recognized the Xenovox he had received long ago from Keira, and dreaded what, or who, waited on its other end. "What are you doing in Kaedwen!" The device exclaimed, the voice sounding very much like Yennefer's. "How on earth did you get that far north?"

"Portal." He answered. Frankly, he was surprised at how far south he was as the Blue Mountains that cradled Kaer Morhen were no longer in sight. The witcher could make a guess that Cregennan was somehow behind it. It would explain his aching limbs at the least.

There was a brief pause. "You hate traveling by portal, why would…?"

"Not my idea."

"Then who's?" Yennefer asked with growing impatience, likely due to Geralt's usual lacking responses.

"Cregennan's."

Again, his response was followed by silence. Lambert raised an eyebrow at the conversation, and Geralt moved off the road and into the brush for some privacy.

"He's talking to you?"

"Mhm. A few things happened." His wrist had started burning faintly beneath his replaced greave and the witcher knew Cregennan was listening in.

"Does it have anything to do with the tavern that burned down?"

"No." Geralt got himself into this mess, he sure as hell wasn't going to get Yennefer involved.

"Tell her." Cregennan's voice chastised him. "We need all the allies we can get! You cannot face them on your own."

Care to finally share what I'm up against? Geralt thought. It had been the first time that Cregennan had indicated that there was a group after them, not just Skj'aera.

Cregennan whispered, "Not yet," before growing quiet once more.

"Please don't lie to me Geralt." Sighed Yennefer, unaware of the brief conversation between him and Cregennan.

"I'm not."

"Then why do witnesses to the burning say they saw the White Wolf talking with a cloaked stranger before the tavern erupted into flames?" The volume of Yennefer's voice rose, and Geralt had to move the Xenovox away from his sensitive ear.

Dammit.

When Geralt didn't respond, she asked a different question. "What. Happened. Geralt?" Yennefer made sure to punctuate each word to translate her frustrations.

"Nothing, Yen. Nothing happened."

"Nothing doesn't burn down a building." She replied. "And it doesn't send you running through a portal."

"I wasn't the one who ran." He stated, his pride somewhat hurt from her implication. In the momentary silence that followed, Geralt realized his slip in words and cursed himself under his breath.

"Cregennan did…" Came Yennefer's voice. "How did he get control of your body?"

"Things happened."

"Geralt, you're being evasive. Just tell me what's going on."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't." She accused.

He had to pause, but Yennefer seemed to understand despite not receiving his answer.

"At least come back. You've been gone for nearly two weeks."

Again, he paused. Not wanting to give an answer Yennefer didn't want to hear.

Geralt could almost hear the way her brows knit together, and her hand on her temple as Yennefer tried to remain calm. "You can be so infuriating."

"I know."

"Geralt…?" Her voice was barely a tickle and he had to put the box up to his ear just to make out his name.

"Ye…" He felt the sleep spell more than heard it. It was soft as a kiss and caressed his consciousness to unconsciousness. His knees buckled and he fell, the Xenovox tumbling from his hand.

The last thing he heard was Yennefer's voice. "Cregennan, if you are our ally, bring him back to us."


Meanwhile, Lambert spent his time leaning against a young oak, watching the wispy clouds float by so carefree. His thoughts drifted back to how he found Geralt and his unlikely tag-along, and he could only shake his head at the mess the older witcher had gotten himself into.

XxxxX

Lambert eased his horse onwards, pushing past the groping branches of the thick foliage surrounding the pair. He was on his way to Kaer Morhen to see if there were any records of previous regressions to the witcher elixirs. Surely, Kiera could forgive him for the extended detour.

His ears pricked to the sounds of panting and branches braking. He was not as alone as he thought he was.

A flash of white amid the greenery. He followed it with his eyes for a few more brief seconds and then dismounted, dropping the reins to the dirt. No one else should be this deep into the forest, at least no one who wasn't a witcher. His thoughts drifted to the possibility that he was tailing Geralt, but how did he get here from Nilfgaard? He drew his steel blade, just to be on the safe side.

The figure ahead of him stopped, a hand clutched tightly to his heaving chest. It was Geralt.

"Geralt!" Lambert called. The man froze, his breathing paused as he turned to face Lambert. There was no recognition in his face. "Geralt?" The white-haired man saw the sword in Lambert's hand and shot off deeper into the woods. "Damn." Lambert swore, sheathing his blade and chasing after the departing form.

On even ground, Geralt had always been faster, and Lambert was worried he'd soon lose sight of the other witcher. But, despite the hours spent on horseback, Lambert was gaining on the exhausted man. The man stumbled on a protruding root, obviously unused to the surrounding area, and doubt entered Lambert's mind on who he was actually running after.

The chase ended at a cliff. It was too late for the man to stop when he finally spotted it. His footing crumbled with the dry earth and he was sent tumbling down the hill's side. Lambert leaned over the edge, mindful of his own footing, and peered down. The man was sprawled on his back looking up at him with piercing golden eyes. Lambert slid down, loose dirt and gravel sliding along with him. The white-haired man dragged himself from Lambert's approach, but was stopped when his back bumped into a tree. Fear was in the man's eyes, an expression that did not belong on Geralt's face. Somehow, it irritated Lambert that he was the source of it.

"Change, Doppler!" Lambert commanded, striking the tree just above the imposter's head. The tree shuddered under the blow, sending a scattering of green leaves to fall atop the pair.

The man stood shakily, and Lambert stepped back allow him some breathing room. The man coughed, still very winded from his previous exertions. "I am no doppler." Despite the stranger's voice sharing Geralt's same timbre, he spoke with an accent that was foreign to the common speech.

"Yet you wear my friend's face…" Growled Lambert, his hand once more twitching towards his blade.

The man saw this, and spoke quickly. "If you harm me, you also harm him!"

Lambert slammed the imposter against the tree, his arm pressing into the man's neck. "Explain!"

There was a hesitation in the man's golden eyes as he struggled to swallow. "I am a spirit… "

"Then I simply will exorcise you." Lambert pressed harder, ignoring the hands clutching at his arm trying vainly to shift it.

"That would be diffi−" A spasm interrupted the man's words and he grabbed Lambert's shoulders with unbelievable strength. "Please, I implore you, there is no time for this. You must bring him away from here… Return him… to… the raven-haired sorceress… Return him to Yennefer." As the last word trickled from his chapped lips, the man's eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped into Lambert. Unprepared for the sudden burden, Lambert stumbled back.

An explosion sounded in the direction of Kaer Morhen, and a frown slipped to Lambert's face. It seemed for the moment he had no choice but to believe the spirit's words and the direness of the situation.

With some difficulty, he managed to get Geralt over his shoulders and headed back to where he left his horse. "You're a heavy bastard."

It would be several the hours later, via the Xenovox procured from one of Geralt's many pouches, that Yennefer verified the spirit's claims.

XxxxX

Lambert heard the thud as Geralt's body once more hit the dirt, no doubt because of the spell Yennefer said she would have to cast if the conversation didn't go as planned. He pulled himself from the sapling. It shuddered upright without Lambert's weight pressing upon it.

As Lambert was pulling back the branches of the large bush Geralt had stepped behind, he was half expecting to need to chase after the spirit who would no doubt be in charge of Geralt's body once again. He didn't have to, however, the spirit seemed content to wait for him.

"So…" Lambert grunted, helping the man to his feet. "Who are you really?"

"Do names mean so much to you people?" The man asked, brushing dust from his front and fetching the Xenovox that had grown silent.

"I'd just like to know the names of those who possess my friends so I know who's grave to stomp on later." Lambert sneered.

"Little chance of that…" The spirit grew solemn. "But I concede. I am Cregennan of Lod." Cregennan offered his hand to Lambert, and the two men shook. "It would be for the best that you do not refer to me as such in others' company however."

"That have anything to do with the explosion at Kaer Morhen?"

Cregennan opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed his mouth again.

"Your poker face is as bad as Geralt's."

"It would make sense. This is Geralt's face." The spirit nodded his agreement.

"Not quite what I meant…" Lambert exhaled and put his hands behind his head. "So what made you pass out back there?"

Again, Lambert's question was met with silence.

"Look don't answer if you don't want to, but it's a long walk back to Nilfgaard from here, and if you don't want whoever's chasing you to catch up, I suggest you start answering." Lambert wasn't about to leave Geralt behind, but he wasn't going to tell the spirit that.

The spirit quickly weighed the options presented to him. "I had used the primitive Axii sign on myself to knock myself unconscious for when my pursuers finally followed me. With luck they would have been unable to detect my presence and just pass me by. It was merely a fortuitous accident that one of Geralt's allies happened upon me in my flight."

"Hmmm…" Cregennan's reference to the witcher's sign indicated that he was likely a sorcerer while alive. The mages Lambert knew often mocked the witcher's for their simple magic, and Lambert wondered if Cregennan was aware of the information he inadvertently passed the witcher. "And what of Geralt in this plan of yours. What would have happened if he woke?"

"I had hoped he would see sense and flee with the destruction of the fortress…"

"So you caused the explosion?"

"Indirectly, yes. The explosives were triggered by the influx of magic as they teleported in." It must have been the expression on Lambert's face, but Cregennan paused briefly. "I have to apologize; it seems that that place had been your home."

Lambert was caught unprepared by Cregennan's apology. He ran a hand through his hair and headed back in the direction of the horse waiting on the road. "Don't worry about it." He waved dismissively. "It hasn't been one in a while. Not since…" Not since Vesemir died. "No. Never mind. You're in a hurry right?"

"Yes."

"We'll stop by the Garin Estate, just a ways past Brunwich. Geralt once told me someone there owes him a favor. Hopefully that includes getting another mount. 'Till then though…" Lambert scratched his head, no better ideas coming to mind. "I guess we're sharing a saddle."