Conjunction
Chapter 8 - The Witcher
The fight had reached a head. The Witcher had the creature cornered and was ready to take the final blow when all hell broke loose around him. Suddenly there were half a dozen smaller versions of the creature around him, hissing and shaking their spines at him. He realized with a sinking feeling that the creature he had been fighting was the queen, and all her minions had just popped out of the shadows at her call and had him nearly surrounded. His gaze darted around looking for a way to run if it should come to that. At the same time, he caught a glimpse of a dark, hooded figure on the outskirts of the clearing.
He took a deep breath and rallied. If he was going to survive he needed to focus. He knew that killing the queen would weaken the smaller creatures, but he just wasn't sure if it would be enough, considering their number. Plus he was still nursing a nasty scratch he'd gotten from a harpy queen two days earlier. If he had been smart he would have taken an extra day to recover from that before taking another contract, but he needed the money. He decided to take the chance. If he could take out the whole nest, it would mean a bigger bounty.
His empty right hand aimed at the ground, he made the quick subtle motions with his fingers required to cast a Quen sign. A shimmering translucent shield rose up around him bolstering his defenses. Then, blocking out all other distractions, he focused on the creature poised before him, spines quivering. He did a quick feint to one side with his silver sword, spun around towards the creature's side, and vaulted sideways over the creature's back in one smooth movement, then quickly cast the Igni sign at the confused creature. It to burst into flames and let out a blood curdling shriek that sounded nearly human, tiny spines shooting out from its hide in every direction. Luckily most of the spines bounced off his shield. He finished off the creature with a sword through its heart, but with a sinking feeling heard the clearing around him erupt in a cacophony of high pitched screams from the creature's brood. Too late he realized he had little energy left for another defensive sign. He quickly grabbed his last Dragon's Dream from his pocket and chucked it into the center of the group. A cloud of flammable gas erupted around them, which he ignited with an Igni sign and a quick flick of his wrist. As his shield dropped, he heard the mysterious figure he'd glimpsed earlier cry out in alarm. Then he felt what must have been hundreds of quills hitting him in the same instant from the opposite side of the clearing behind him. There had been two sets of the younger creatures. He had missed the other group entirely.
This was very bad. Theirs was a slow acting poison, but he knew he had little time with the number of tiny barbs that had just embedded themselves in his skin. His sight blurred and telltale red spots began to appear in his field of vision that warned him of the near fatal dose of toxins in his blood. He thought he felt a quill in his left temple which he reached up to remove, and there were definitely a couple that had penetrated the tiny gaps in the lightweight chainmail that covered his upper arms, and he was aware of an increasing tingling in his legs as he struggled to stay conscious long enough to get out. His armor should have protected him from some of the attack, but the spines were small and sharp enough to pierce through most light armor, and the youngsters tended to have little control over how many of their spines were released when they reacted to an attack. The only advantage he had right now was that the creatures were defenseless without their tiny weapons and were not likely to attack him directly as long as he seemed to pose a threat. But the damage had already been done, and they would just clean his bones when he died.
He stumbled forward through the clearing, swaying like a drunkard and trying to pull spines out as he went. He had a brief irrational recollection of a night in the Flotsam tavern two years prior with Dandelion, Zoltan, and Triss. The group had stayed up until the early hours drinking and reminiscing and had stumbled off their separate ways afterward in much the same fashion he was stumbling now. It occurred to him that the night in Flotsam may have been the last place the four of them were together when none of them were in grave danger.
The clearing seemed to simultaneously grow larger and to close in on him - how far away had he tethered his horse? He had to reach his pack and see if he had some kind of antidote that might at least keep him alive until he could reach a healer. He shook his head trying to clear it of the poison's effects, but it was no use. Suddenly he was losing traction as the world tilted out from under him and he saw the mossy ground rush up to meet his face. He didn't even have enough control over his reflexes to stop the fall, but he felt nothing when he hit the ground. As his awareness began to falter, he heard a yell and felt a burst of hot air from somewhere behind him, and more of those awful creatures' screams. Shortly after, he heard a sharply accented female voice in his ear urging him to stay awake, stay with her, and he heard a dog bark. Then his world faded into darkness.
He was inside a dark, torch-lit grotto, soaking in a huge pool with Triss and a beautiful dark-haired woman he'd come to understand must be Yennefer, a remnant of his lost memories that seeped through in dreams, a memory he had yet to maintain a grasp of during his waking hours. The women murmured softly to each other just out of his reach. As he watched, the dark-haired woman's image began to flicker, her features shifting, her hair becoming paler as it gradually turned milky white and her face transforming into something different, but no less beautiful. The figure of Triss faded slowly into the darkness leaving only the white-haired beauty behind, reaching out to him invitingly. She was mouthing words that became the faint murmur of a breeze echoing through the grotto, "Stay with me." He tried to move towards her through the water, but the closer he got the more resistance he felt, like the liquid was thickening around him. He looked to the other side of the pool and watched in despair as the woman sank beneath the surface. He tried to move again only to discover that he was trapped, as though in solid ice even though the water still rippled and shimmered around him with reflected torchlight. He felt a frigid cold deep in his soul and tried to cry out but something deep below the surface drew him under.
Next Chapter: In which our heroine attempts some unconventional healing.