Conjunction
Chapter 18 - The Kikimore
Geralt was an extremely unforgiving instructor, running her through her paces relentlessly for the next two days. He dragged her out of bed at dawn each day and tested her with every weapon in their arsenal, ignoring her objections that she was a mage and happy sticking with her staff as her weapon of choice. He insisted that she learn how to fight with everything, even if she only learned basic forms and styles, in order to better understand how her opponents thought.
"But we're hunting monsters, and only two monsters at that... how much variety in combat styles are we really going to have to deal with?" she had asked.
"The Red Wraiths are the demented spirits of dead soldiers. There's no telling what to expect from them, but they do use human fighting styles," he told her. "But it isn't them I'm thinking of. Our journey south will take us into some fairly politically unstable areas the closer we get to the borders of Nilfgaard. It's likely we'll encounter bandits and mercenaries on the road. Not to mention Henselt's warning that there were likely assassins hunting you. We need to be ready for anything."
She had her share of experience with bandits and the like, but with the new abilities she was acquiring she recognized the need for additional training.
So she gave up her staff for the time being, letting Vesemir borrow it to see if he could improve it for her, and spent the next few days sparring with Geralt with any other weapon she could get her hands on, including her own hands. She'd always had decent reflexes after the training Malcolm Hawke had given her and her cousins when they were younger, but occasionally she surprised even herself with what she was now capable of. But as impressed as she was with her own improved reactions, Geralt was still faster, stronger, and more skilled at everything. Everything except magic, she thought, growing increasingly frustrated at his insistence that she only practice her martial skills for now.
"Magic is too easy for you," he told her. "For you to truly be able to take advantage of your changes you need to learn the physical aspects of them. Trust me... when you switch back to casting spells you'll notice the difference and thank me for it."
"But don't Witchers use spells, too?" she asked. "When do you teach me those?"
He laughed, amused by her enthusiasm. She did have a refreshing lust for knowledge, which was a good thing and somehow balanced her occasionally troubling thirst for blood.
"Witcher signs are nothing compared to your spells. Just a little extra advantage when we're fighting... There is one sign that might be useful to you. We can work on that if you would like. After you can beat me in fight."
"I already beat you in a fight, in case you're forgetting," she said and smirked at him.
He scowled at her. "In a real fight... that was just a fun distraction, it doesn't count."
She nodded her head at him in mock agreement, "Uh huh... You go ahead and keep telling yourself that, but we both know I kicked your ass." She stabbed her finger at him three times in emphasis.
His scowl deepened and he emitted a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'll teach you the sign tomorrow."
The next morning she was rudely awakened when her covers were yanked off, exposing her bare skin to the cold morning air. She heard Geralt's deep voice telling her, "Get up, lazybones, we have hunting to do..." She heard him trail off then clear his throat and whisper a very colorful curse.
She turned sleepy eyes to face her tormentor, only to see his strong profile facing the window and studying the outside landscape with fierce intensity. She was still lying belly-down, stark naked as she preferred to sleep when she wasn't on the road. She could tell from the soft light seeping through the windows that dawn was breaking. There was a soft pounding behind her eyes. Too much White Gull last night, she thought, resolving to control her consumption better the next time.
She grumbled at him, "What torture is this? It's barely dawn and you're already hounding me. Not fair." She pulled a pillow over her head.
Geralt turned away from the window and gazed at her naked body glowing creamy white in the pre-dawn light. Her dragon-shaped birthmark looked nearly black in the dim light and seemed to beckon to him from above the soft, round flesh of one buttock. He groaned inwardly and shook his head, then sighed deeply in frustration. Was she trying to torment him? Finally, losing patience, with himself as well as her, he said, "Solona, get up, dammit. We have a monster to hunt today."
That got her moving. "Well, why didn't you say so!" she said, suddenly enthusiastically awake, her small (perfect) breasts bouncing softly as she got up and began donning her gear.
"I'll meet you downstairs," he said and abruptly left her room before he did things he would likely regret.
She descended to the main hall several moments later, fully bedecked in her battle leathers. Her outfit now included a thin leather strap tied around her forehead to keep her unruly hair from falling into her eyes until it grew long enough for her to tie back.
"Vesemir, do you have my staff?" she asked the old man who sat at the table nursing a steaming mug of tea. He nodded and made a gruff noise of assent, pointing to a weapon rack near the door.
He told her, "It is a fine piece of workmanship, but the material is far beyond my skills to work with. You say it's made from dragon bone?" She nodded and began to scarf down a quick breakfast of cold meat and bread.
"It's the lightest, strongest material I've ever seen," he said, clearly impressed, "and the enchantments on it would be impossible to duplicate, so I hesitate to attempt reworking the weapon myself. The design is quite innovative... forging a blade at the end of a staff makes it a very versatile weapon. It may not be a weapon Witchers would use, but it will no doubt do the job as well as any silver or steel sword... better in some cases."
"What kinds of changes would you make, if you could?" she asked, curious.
He shrugged and said, "Nothing, honestly. At first I thought it would serve a better purpose were there steel and a silver blades at opposite ends, but it seems the qualities of dragonbone are more than sufficient for a Witcher's weapon. It has qualities similar to silver that makes it deadly against most monsters, plus it has an extremely high iron content making it very strong and deadly to certain other monsters. Unfortunately it is far too rare a material in this world for all Witchers to carry dragonbone weapons."
She was a little surprised at this. "You don't have dragons here?" she asked.
"We do, but there are few, and they're very devious. Ask Geralt about his last encounter with one... she was very nearly queen of Kaedwen. He was friends with her father as well."
She raised her eyebrows, intrigued. "They were friends, you say? Dragons in this world must be very different creatures than the ones in mine if they can look like and consort with humans rather than just eating them. In any case, the staff isn't what does most of my killing for me. Thank you for trying, Vesemir."
She left the hall, retrieving her staff on the way out the door, and walked to the stables where Geralt was already preparing their horses. She took over saddling her mount while he finished his own, securing her saddle bags across the horse's back behind the saddle. She punched the horse in the belly softly to get him to relax so she could tighten the cinch enough to keep the saddle in place, then moved to his head to check the bridle. She fed him small pieces of apple as a reward for behaving and cooed soothing words while scratching his ears affectionately.
"You're good with horses," Geralt commented as he mounted his steed.
"You never noticed it before?" she asked curiously. They'd spent weeks on the road with just the two of them and their horses and she hadn't behaved any differently just now.
"I did," he said. "I was just preoccupied with other things." He had noted her horsemanship but had been too absorbed in the details of the grimoire to comment on it... or too absorbed in her.
She laughed ruefully. "Yes, well... I suppose in my world we have quite a bit in common. Horses are more intelligent than most people realize and could easily kill you if they wanted to. Why would anyone deliberately antagonize a creature like that?" She reached down and stroked her horse's withers affectionately.
She emitted a shrill whistle and Lusa came bounding around a corner, startling the chickens that were pecking at the ground near the stables. His stumpy tail practically vibrated with the excitement of getting to be out and about for the first time in several days.
"So, where are we off to, to hunt this monster?" she asked as they passed beneath the raised portcullis and heard the chains creak as Vesemir lowered it behind them.
"One of the nearby villages has a kikimore infestation in their mine. And, as it happens, we need a kikimore brain for one of your mutagens."
She remembered reading of kikimores in Geralt's bestiary. They were armored insectoid creatures that sounded vaguely like spiders. She shivered slightly at the thought. But her understanding was that they burrowed underground rather than building webs, so at least there was no danger of them dropping unexpectedly out of the air. She hated spiders.
They rode for awhile in comfortable silence. Lusa meandered around them, sniffing at the underbrush and peeing on trees as they went. There was a brisk autumn chill in the air but the morning was clear, and the mountains surrounding the path they traveled were ablaze with the rising sun illuminating the vibrant reds and golds of the changing leaves. Solona didn't think she'd ever seen a more beautiful sight in her life. She actually felt, if not precisely happy, at least content at the moment. Being on the road again with Geralt felt right, even if it was just for a short trip. The village with the contract they were after was half days' ride from Kaer Morhen so if all went well they would be able to return to the fortress that night.
She sensed him looking at her and turned her gaze towards his. In her peripheral vision she saw the hand resting on his thigh make an odd gesture and his eyes flashed with subtle yellow light. There was a sudden odd sensation at the front of her mind as though he had just lobbed a psychic volley at her and she caught it reflexively, as deftly as she had caught the dish he'd flung at her the other night.
"What the hell?" she thought, and saw him blink back at her in surprise.
"Solona?" she heard his deep voice reverberate inside her head but his lips remained unmoving, his brow furrowed in consternation, his eyes searching hers.
Her lips tilted up in a small smile, "What did you just do? Are you actually in my head?"
His voice came back deep and clear. Its presence directly inside her mind felt strange, but not unpleasant. "It would appear so... I was trying the Axii sign to see how you would react to it. You caught it like a pro. It surprised me, to be honest. Especially that you seem to be as much in my head at the moment, too. This has never happened to me before."
"Why do you think it's happening now?" she projected to him, curious.
He shrugged and broke their gaze to turn back towards the road, then spoke aloud. "If I had to guess, we may have already had a psychic connection with each other. There were those moments during your trial, and the dream we shared … in the bath." He cleared his throat softly, pausing to savor that particular memory since it was the last time they'd been that intimate. Even if it had been all in their minds it had felt every bit as intense as reality.
"Besides, we've shared several dreams together even before that. It makes me wonder if the sign was even necessary for me to speak to you telepathically. It's likely that we're linked by the prophecy somehow, and that your changes have attuned us to each other even more."
He thought of what he had told Vesemir the night before her trial began, about how he felt drawn to her on some deep level. The feeling hadn't dissipated. If anything it had grown stronger and it struck him as something deeper than simply carnal desire, although that's how it seemed to manifest most of the time. The past week during her combat lessons had been a challenge for him and he had compensated by being tougher on her in training than he normally would have been, but she had taken it in stride. By the end of the week they seemed to have developed a routine and had found a balance between the intense physical exertion of combat training and semi-comfortable conversation that, while not exactly easy, was manageable as long as they maintained a certain distance when they weren't locked in a fight. She seemed to compensate for it by being a snarky brat and, oddly, the thought made him smile to himself.
She studied him as they continued to ride. He turned to look at her after a moment and saw her contemplative expression as she watched him. He asked suspiciously, "What are you thinking?"
She shrugged and said evasively, "Stuff."
His brow twitched at her answer. "Hmph... sounds like something I would say." He glanced at her again and shook his head, muttering, "Next thing you'll tell me you think I need a bath."
"So you think I'm a snarky brat?" he heard her say abruptly, her tone light and inquisitive. He turned his head sharply and stared at her in surprise. Her eyes were narrowed but he could sense suppressed mirth in the quivering set of her mouth, which bubbled forth into ringing laughter a second later.
"Hah! This is going to be interesting," she said, grinning at him. He scowled at her in response and put up a stronger mental barrier. He felt a subtle psychic prodding a moment later.
"You're no fun," she grumbled.
Ignoring her remark, he said, "Clearly we're poor subjects for each other, but I can still teach you the sign I tried to use. It's a charm spell and extremely effective against humans if you need to coerce information from them or get them to agree to things they wouldn't normally agree to. With a little extra effort you can essentially read minds with it, as you just discovered."
He spent the next hour of their trip explaining the sign to her, showing her the gesture she needed to make with her hand and the psychic force she needed to place behind it when she made it.
They stopped to eat their lunch in a small grove beside the road and let their horses graze. After they finished eating they sat across from each other cross-legged atop a large, flat moss-covered rock and he let her test the sign on him. When he felt it he immediately sensed an opening in her own mind and projected a thought to her, "This is interesting... when we use the spell on each other it seems to open up a direct connection between us. I wonder if we even need the sign to do it?"
"As long as you can refrain from name-calling, I'm willing to test it out," she responded with a smirk.
He broke the connection and said out loud, "Try it without the sign now."
She closed her eyes and projected her thoughts outward. Almost instantly she sensed the familiar shape of his consciousness and the barrier he had placed against his deeper thoughts.
"It's easy," she thought with surprise. "What happens if we both let our barriers down?"
As though in response she sensed something like a door opening in his mind. She hesitated briefly and then dropped her own barrier. She felt as though she had just disrobed in front of him and her heart sped up with anticipation of this new endeavor. Without further ado, she plunged into the depths of his mind and simultaneously felt him enter her own.
The sensation was beyond anything she could have imagined. It was every bit as intimate as sex, but in some ways even more so. She felt immersed in his very being, his every memory, thought, and emotion laid bare to her. She knew that with very little effort she could know him more completely than she had known anyone.
She let out a soft gasp as her eyes flew open and met his. He was gazing back at her with an expression of surprise that mirrored what she was feeling.
"Geralt, I don't know about this..." she thought.
"I trust you," she heard his deep voice reverberate in her mind and she began to sense glimmers of his memories. The recently recovered memory of Yennefer's death was still prominent, but more so was the memory of the night in Ard Carraigh after she'd been kidnapped by the king. Both memories were vivid with the emotions that surrounded them and merely witnessing them began to suddenly overwhelm her. His grief over his former lover's death caused a sudden surge of sadness to well up in her, but it was his feelings for her on that night weeks past, still very keenly felt by him, that undid her. She felt her defenses beginning to crumble as they had on that night and retreated abruptly to the relative safety of her own mind.
He sensed her distress as though it were a growing storm in her mind. He could see it gradually manifest itself on her face as her outward expression crumpled and she emitted a small choking cry. He retreated back to himself instantly and reached out to her.
"Solona? What's wrong?" He saw her sitting across from him clutching herself with her arms and rocking back and forth as tears streamed down her face.
"I can't... there's too much... too much... stupid thing to do," she choked out between shaky breaths.
He gathered her onto his lap and held her, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other hand gently stroking her hair.
"Shh... tell me what upset you."
She shook her head, "I... I saw... myself, and I saw Yennefer, but it wasn't what I saw, it was what I ... what you felt. Geralt how can you bear it? How can you bear those feelings... keeping them that close?"
He finally understood what had distressed her. When they were connected he had delved deep into her psyche and had sensed the emotionally charged issue surrounding his presence in her life, and had begun to see something dark and foreboding within her depths that had her deeper feelings tied up in it, as an infestation of choking vines might be wrapped around the normally healthy flora in a forest. She had something dark in her past. Something she tried very hard to keep buried that as a result made it difficult for her to face her deeper feelings. Coming into contact with his own feelings like that must have been a shock to her.
He continued to stroke her hair gently and said, "Sometimes I can't bear them. Mostly I've just learned to control them. There is a difference between owning your feelings and letting them own you... or denying them completely. I own my feelings, good or bad. They serve as reminders that I'm alive. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by them, but I never deny them."
He looked tenderly at her sun-dappled face, his heart pounding in his chest at the solid weight of her in his arms. He breathed in her scent of sandalwood and leather, and the fainter scent of her tears, as sharp and salty as the sea. She gazed at him through a hazy veil of tears and slid one hand up to caress his rough stubbled cheek. He brought his hand up and wiped the tears from her eyes, then bent his head and laid a gentle kiss against her lips, tasting the sweet remnants of the hard cider they'd shared with their lunch. At the same time he projected a thought to her, "Not every feeling is something to dread."
"Geralt..." she whispered through a sigh against his lips. Then she abruptly pushed away from him and stood up, leaving him feeling suddenly and unbearably weightless without her in his arms. She walked to the edge of the rock and paused, looking down at the leaf-strewn ground below her. She shook her head and rubbed her face savagely with her hands.
"You must think me very weak. I... I'm sorry for breaking down like that."
He stood and began pulling on and lacing his gauntlets. "I'm no stranger to weakness, Solona. You're forgetting last week when I was a crying mess and you held me. You can apologize for screwing up in a fight, but never apologize for your feelings. They're nothing to be ashamed of."
Through clenched teeth, she said, "But feelings are just a distraction, Geralt. Part of me had hoped that what they said about Witchers was true... that we were unemotional killers. But nothing could be further from the truth. I've never felt so much before. Ever since my trial ended it's all I can do to bury these feelings. And having heightened senses makes it all the harder. Your smell, your touch, the sound of your voice... it drives me mad with longing. I can't afford to feel this way. There is too much at stake."
"I disagree," she heard him say quietly from behind her, his voice becoming tense and serious. "Solona, you're one of the strongest women I've ever known, but I think you can't afford not to feel everything."
He brushed past her and hopped off the stone, striding over to where their horses were grazing idly on a sunny patch of grass.
She drew her own gloves back on and followed him, securing her pack to the back of her horse and mounting. They turned back onto the road in silence, the steady clip clop of their horses' hooves and Lusa's snuffling in the bushes the only sounds between them.
An hour later they reached the small village, nestled cozily in the lee of a rocky cliff at the head of a small valley. They dismounted and led their horses into the main square, which was just a small courtyard paved with stones surrounding a crudely built well. A throng of children of varying ages gathered nearby chattering and the ruckus prompted the adults to stop their work to cautiously observe them.
Geralt called out, "The Witchers received word that there was a contract here. Kikimores in your mine, was it? We're here to complete it for you and rid you of the monsters."
There was a subtle uproar among the children and Solona heard excited talk of "witcher" this and "witcher" that and more notably "is that a girl witcher? I didn't know there were girl witchers!" which made her smile. A very small girl with unruly brown ringlets and a gap-toothed smile found the courage to venture up to her and tug on her leather skirt.
She squatted down and said with a gentle smile, "Hi there, and what's your name?"
The small girl stared at her with vivid blue eyes the size of dinner plates and finally gasped out, "Are - are you a Wit-ther?"
Solona gave the girl a friendly smile and said, "Yes, I am a Witcher. And what are you? Are you a faerie? You're as pretty as a faerie." The little girl giggled at her and shook her head vigorously, her ringlets springing wildly around her face, then reached out small fingers to Solona's hair and tentatively touched the loose white curls that had escaped her headband.
"You're pretty... Wit-thers aren't s'posed to be pretty," the little girl said with innocent certainty. Solona felt the small hand move to the scar on her jaw and flinched, but held still for the girl to touch her face.
"Well... pretty depends on how you look at it." Solona explained to the little girl. "I think he's very pretty," she said, pointing at Geralt. The girl looked at Geralt dubiously and shook her head, causing her crop of ringlets to bounce energetically again.
Solona elaborated, "Sometimes it's what's on the inside that makes someone pretty. If someone is kind and gentle and if they make you feel pretty sometimes that makes them pretty, to you." Her eyes lingered on Geralt for a few seconds and she let out a small sigh. What am I going to do with you? You beautiful, beautiful man. Geralt's head turned towards her, meeting her eyes briefly. He gave her a puzzled smile. I could say the same to you, he responded, causing her to blush at the accidental betrayal of her thoughts. She realized she had been projecting just a tiny bit without even knowing it.
She turned back to the little girl, who nodded to her and said, "You think the boy Wit-ther is pretty!" and she giggled impishly before running back to the other children to share the joke. Suddenly half of them were giggling and pointing. Solona laughed softly to herself and stood up. She heard a soft woof from beside her and looked down to see Lusa peering up at her in inquiry, then looking at the group of children longingly.
"Sorry, boy, we have work to do. Maybe after we're finished you can play, if there's time."
After a moment a heavy-set middle-aged man appeared from a shadowy stoop and answered Geralt. "Aye, Witcher. We have an infestation of monsters in the mine. Best I can tell they are kikimores that tend to plague us every few years. Most times we can avoid them, but this year they've managed to burrow down and collapse parts of the mine so we can no longer work it safely." He gave Solona a curious glance when she walked up to stand next to Geralt.
Geralt faced the man with a posture of casual confidence and nodded. "We'll need someone to show us to the mine, and we need your word that payment is in order for when we return."
The man nodded. "We have little coin, but can pay you in other materials. Surely food is worth more to you this close to winter?"
Geralt replied, "It depends. We don't want anything that will spoil before we can use it." He glanced meaningfully to the far side of the square from where they had entered, his eyes resting on a small, nondescript building with a pair of tall chimneys that were steadily spouting out tall gouts of whitish smoke. "I see you have a still. We'd be happy to accept payment in spirits rather than gold."
The man looked at Geralt appraisingly and nodded, "Aye, that can be arranged." Then he called over his shoulder in a loud bellow, "Bekim! Get out here and show the Witchers to the mine."
A surly boy with a narrow frame and large feet, who appeared to be nearing adulthood, shuffled out of the shadows of the cottage. He blinked at them for a moment before his eyes settled on Solona and his face lit up for a brief second before he managed to hide his reaction and his face went back to ill-mannered indifference.
He mumbled almost incoherently, "The mine's up this way." Solona was briefly grateful that her hearing was so much improved or she wouldn't have been able to understand him at all.
They led their horses and followed the boy up a wide and well-worn path that wound up the mountainside behind the village. When they rounded the first bend, the boy's demeanor changed significantly.
"You two are both Witchers, ain't you?" he asked, his brusque attitude becoming one of genuine curiosity.
"We are," Geralt replied.
The boy eyed Geralt's swords and studied Solona intently for several moments.
"I didn't know there were girl Witchers," he stated bluntly.
"There aren't," Geralt said sternly. "Solona is a special case."
The boy remained quiet for several moments but Solona could tell he was working up the nerve to say something. Finally he cleared his throat and said in an an anxious tone, "What do you have to do to... to become a Witcher? Is there a test of some kind?"
Solona and Geralt exchanged a look of understanding and then Geralt spoke. "There are grueling trials Witcher initiates have to undergo, Bekim. First, they have to prove their physical abilities; their combat skills. That involves years of training. If they prove themselves in the initial tests there are other tests to undergo, but those are secret. Just know that not everyone is cut out to be a Witcher. Very few actually are."
Bekim nodded and kept his eyes on the path ahead of them. "But if I wanted to... if I volunteered... would you take me?" He glanced back at Geralt hesitantly.
Solona shot a sidelong look at Geralt and could tell he struggled with the answer to the boy's question.
Solona interjected suddenly, "Bekim, why do you want to be a Witcher? It's a very hard, very dangerous life. Most of the world despises them and the rest just want to use them. They find very little comfort and live very lonely lives."
The boy paused before her on the path for a beat, his shock of jet black hair falling into his blue eyes, obscuring his expression from her. He tossed his hair out of his eyes and turned to face her with an look of desperate purpose. His voice cracked every so slightly as he spoke, betraying his youth to her.
"M'lady, ever since two weeks ago... when them things attacked us in the mine... nobody talks to me. You say Witchers is lonely, well I'm about as lonely as they come. My ma and da are gone, and my brother, too. Killed by those monsters. I... " his voice cracked, this time with emotions that he struggled to control. He continued in a near whisper, his bright eyes wide and rimmed with unshed tears, "I was there when it happened. I saw what they did, but I couldn't do nothing to help. I just ran and hid." He paused and said bitterly, "Now the whole town hates me, 'cause I didn't stay down there to die. Maybe I should have, but I didn't, and the only thing I can think to make up for it now is to kill the bloody monsters that caused it, and to keep killing them for the rest of my life."
There was a long, pregnant silence that was finally broken by Geralt's deep, steady voice. "That's more of a reason than most boys have when they're recruited to be Witchers. It's your choice, Bekim. If that's what you want, we'll take you with us when we go."
The boy seemed visibly relieved, but equally pensive as they continued up the path.
They reached the mine entrance half an hour later, a rickety wooden door built into a roughly chiseled rocky face. There was a packed dirt path leading into the doorway with wooden planks embedded into the earth. The surrounding area was flat, well-worn earth, with two paths leading away from it. Solona could see a small shack up a hill at the end of one of the paths and heard the distinct sound of a small waterfall down the opposite hill where the other path led.
Bekim looked suddenly very anxious for the two of them as they made their preparations for monster killing. Geralt removed his swords from his saddle and slung the leather bandolier that held them across his shoulders. He slipped several small vials of dark liquid into the loops at the front of one shoulder and handed more vials to Solona, which she stashed snugly in loops she'd added at the front of each shoulder of her own armor.
"I... I want to come with you. To kill them," Bekim said intently.
"Of course you do," Solona replied. "But you can't. You're not ready yet."
The boy looked somewhat peeved at her response, but also relieved. She admired him for that. He was brave, but not stupid. And he was bright enough to realize that they would have rejected his request to join them in the mine anyway, otherwise he wouldn't have asked.
Geralt strode over to him and handed him a small steel dagger, "Stay out here and take care of our horses. If anything comes out that doesn't look human, stab it."
Bekim nodded and smiled nervously. "I think I can do that."
Geralt opened the door to the mine. The poorly constructed barrier fell open with an eerie creak. He paused for a second and looked back at Lusa who was waiting eagerly behind them. He gave the dog a serious look then turned to Solona.
"We'll need to work as quietly as possible on this one. Even the smallest sound or vibration might attract them and we'll need to catch them unawares as much as possible.
Solona nodded and turned to kneel down before Lusa. "You need to stay up here, too, okay?" He gave her a concerned whine and she scratched his ears, feeling suddenly sad at the realization that there were places she could go now where he wouldn't be able to follow. She leaned closer and whispered in Lusa's ear, "Stay and make friends with Bekim. He seems like he could use a friend right now." Lusa responded with a soft, conspiratorial "woof" that made her smile.
They stepped into the darkness and the door creaked shut behind them.
Are you okay communicating like this for awhile? she heard Geralt ask inside her mind. She hesitated for a second before replying, Yes.
Light, and Cat couldn't hurt either, he said to her, and with a small force of will her staff began to glow brightly. Then she reached to her shoulder to grab the appropriate potion, uncorked it and tossed it back, recorking and stashing the empty vial back where it had been stowed previously. Almost instantly the shapes within the mineshaft became stark and highly contrasting monotones as though an ethereal light were blazing down from above them.
They moved forward quickly but cautiously. She could clearly see the outlines of the roughly hewn corridors and Geralt's solid form before her. She descended behind him for interminable moments with her staff clutched solidly in her fist before he finally came to a halt at the opening of a larger chamber with several ore-laden wagons and a large pit gaping ominously in the center.
We need to go down there, she heard inside her head.
Well... what are you waiting for? She projected back, hoping her impatience was conveyed along with her words. He turned to look at her with an expression of mildly amused irritation.
He stepped to the edge of the pit and squatted down, looking into the blackness beneath him. She could hear restless skittering in the darkness beyond. She saw Geralt uncork another potion and swallow it quickly, then draw his silver sword. Let's do this, she heard in her mind and he disappeared into the darkness below them.
She stepped to the edge, taking a brief second to pull in enough energy to charge her cleansing aura, then dropped in behind him.
When her feet hit the ground he was already engaged in battle with the large, bug-like creatures that infested the chamber they'd descended into. There were dozens of the creatures surrounding them and the acrid smells they emitted burned her sinuses and briefly blinded her. When she recovered she saw Geralt stabbing the last beast through its soft armor and gesturing to her to follow him down a dark tunnel.
Those were just workers, the further we go the tougher they'll get. Be ready.
She heard an eerie screech echo through the tunnels around them as they entered the next chamber. There were crumbling, clattering noises as a dozen six-legged bodies erupted from the ground beneath them. Geralt made quick work of four of them with a few fast sweeps and stabs of his sword and Solona tossed the rest solidly against the far wall with her force spell. One twitched to life and Geralt stabbed it unceremoniously.
Burn the eggs if you see them, he told her, gesturing at what was clearly a nest of some sort off in one corner filled with large, glistening eggs. There was an explosion of heat and bright fire as she destroyed it. She almost gagged at the smell that assaulted her nostrils as it burned. She turned to follow Geralt down the next narrow corridor.
When they were about halfway through the corridor she felt the hairs rise up on the back of her neck and the ground beneath her feet began to undulate subtly.
Behind us! she projected to him and turned abruptly, aiming her glowing staff into the darkness. Two large creatures, each triple the size of the ones they'd fought earlier, suddenly erupted out of the earth less than a stride away from her, their claw-like mandibles clicking loudly together.
Shit, she heard him say, We're surrounded. How many back there?
Two. And they're huge!
Do the best you can. I've got us covered on this side.
She summoned as much magical energy as she could and aimed her staff at the two creatures before her, then focused her power through her staff, sending a solid bolt of force through it into the creature in front. The force hit it with a loud crunch and it was forced back, toppling into the creature behind it and sending them both tumbling back into the room behind them.
She turned around quickly to see how Geralt fared. He was engaged in a deadly dance with three more of the creatures slashing and stabbing gracefully with his silver sword. She turned back to the creatures on her side and saw them both beginning to recover and start towards her again. She stepped forward quickly and knelt to inscribe a quick glyph on the ground, sending a surge of magic through her fingertips to activate it. Then she turned back to the battle going on behind her.
She stepped up behind Geralt and sent a pulse of power out to him, enveloping him in a protective aura, just in time for a serrated claw to swing out and connect with his thigh. It hit solidly but seemed to skid off as though he were contained within his own hard shell. She let out a hiss and cast a force spell at the creature that lifted it up and flung it solidly against the ground several yards back, shattering two of its legs into pieces and causing a gaping crack to form in the chitinous armor across its back. Dark liquid began to ooze from it and the creature slumped to the ground with a crunch and ceased to move.
She heard the sounds of skittering behind her and then a soft *whump* as the creatures hit her glyph and were knocked back again from an explosion of force that was held in her trap. Geralt stabbed one of his assailants solidly through its armor and sent a small wave of force into the other creature, knocking it back. He was breathing heavily from the exertion of the fight and Solona could feel her own magic waning. She expended the last of her power to provide them both a burst of rejuvenating energy.
She turned back to the monsters behind them. The two figures were chomping their mandibles at her with loud clicks but seemed hesitant to approach her. She stood ready, waiting for them to make a move and letting her magic regenerate. She heard a loud screech behind her as the third of Geralt's attackers finally met its end. She heard him pause to catch his breath then his soft footsteps as he approached behind her.
Looks like you scared them. How did you manage that? he said, observing the two kikimore warriors that stood in the center of the cave.
Oh, just a little surprise I left for them while I was helping you, she turned to grin at him.
I'm a bit low on magic now, she said, spinning her staff around and pointing the bladed end at one of the creatures. Fancy us taking them both with blades like you showed me in practice?
He smiled at her with a gleam in his eye then turned and charged at one creature, Solona following quickly behind, her staff aimed at the creature like a javelin. At the last second the two Witchers spun in pirouettes in opposite directions. Solona planted the blunt end of her staff in the ground, using it to spin and propel her over the back of the creature. She landed softly behind it and buried her blade into its torso with a satisfying crunch at the same time Geralt's blade pierced the armor of the other creature.
She yanked her blade from the creature's back and turned to see Geralt striding towards her with fire in his eyes. The next second his arms were around her, one strong hand gripping the back of her neck, and his mouth was on hers, kissing her hungrily. She returned the kiss ardently, but just as abruptly he released her and was walking away again. She stood catching her breath as much from the kiss as from the fight. Her lips felt alive with sensation, as did other parts of her body.
What- what the hell was that?
Consider it positive reinforcement. It's a training tactic, he said, shooting her a sly smile.
Training tactic, my ass. It's dangerous is what it is, she shot back with an irritated glare.
Then just think of it as a way to build up our defenses... against each other.
You just wanted to prove to yourself that you could do it, didn't you? You wanted to prove that you could stop in the heat of the moment. Well, do me a favor and don't... she shot him a frustrated look. Don't fuck with me like that.
Quit bitching. You liked it.
She stared at him, incredulous. Of course I liked it. That's the problem. In case you've forgotten, we're not allowed to … to be intimate until the ritual. Stunts like that only serve to test our limits, and if we're not careful we'll end up giving in.
I disagree. We have months to spend together before we complete the ritual. We need to test our limits so we know exactly what they are. Are you telling me that if I'd kept kissing you, we'd have been rolling around, screwing our brains out in the dirt right now?
No... I would have stopped you.
Exactly. So why not celebrate a little victory on occasion. He strode back over to her and gazed at her intently, his expression one of subtle challenge. One kiss is nothing. If you want a real test, I'll give you one.
She sighed and said with eyebrows raised, Very tempting, but maybe we should finish killing some monsters first?
He nodded at her with a smile she thought carried some amount of pride with it, as though she had just passed the real test.
Great job on that attack, by the way, she heard his voice inside her mind again. Your launch was a little off... maybe we should work with staves more when we get back to the fortress.
She laughed softly to herself and followed him into the next chamber, stepping over kikimore carcasses as they went.
They fought several more of the large warriors before they reached a deep chamber far beneath the entrance. There they found the remains of several human bodies that appeared to have been dragged there, presumably to feed the queen who they could see nestled in a back corner. They had encountered a few caches of eggs in other chambers, which Solona had dispatched unceremoniously with a blast of fire from her fingertips, but it seemed every edge of the final chamber and much of the floor before them were carpeted with them. When they stepped quietly into the room she accidentally kicked a small cluster of eggs which burst open and oozed dark fluid onto the ground, sending an acrid odor to her nose.
There were workers scuttering around everywhere, but no warriors that she could see. That didn't mean they weren't there, lurking beneath the earth.
Do you think we can lure the minions out without bringing the queen with them? she asked.
He nodded. As long as we don't disturb too many of her eggs, I think so.
They retreated back into the previous chamber. He shot a cautionary glance her way before he started stomping one foot into the ground in a steady pulse. She gathered her power, making ready for the fight ahead.
She could hear them coming. There were crumbling noises as the earth beyond the room shifted to allow their passage through it. A moment later a throng of workers burst out of the ground around them and assaulted them in unison.
Solona threw a force spell in the center of the group nearest her, hurtling them out in a wide circle, then immediately followed it up with its counterpart, grabbing them all and yanking them back to the center to collide with each other in a deadly crunch.
Geralt stood at her back facing the opposite direction and deftly fended off the assault of more creatures with his blade.
More creatures poured out of the softened earth where the first groups had come from.
Hold still for a moment, she said to Geralt, then squatted down with one hand to the ground, gathering her magic and projecting it with as much force as she could muster directly into the earth beneath her. The ground began to shake violently and the remaining creatures were suddenly expelled from it as though they had been spat out from the earth itself. Many of them lay upended, their armored legs clawing at the air above them.
She and Geralt made quick work of the dazed creatures that lay helplessly about them, leaving only twitching shells behind.
Nice work! he said. Almost makes me want to kiss you again. He grinned at her.
She gave him an exasperated look, rolling her eyes. You can kiss me again once we make it back to open air.
I'm going to hold you to that.
Fine. Whatever. Let's just go kill this thing, okay?
After you, he gestured gallantly to the entrance to the queen's lair. Burn enough of her eggs and she'll come running. I'll be ready when she comes for you.
Solona nodded at him and threw a couple rejuvenating spells at them both, then stepped into the room, aiming her staff at the ground. A second later a solid stream of flame erupted from the end of her staff, turning to ashes anything that stood in its path.
"Come and get it, bitch!" she yelled as loudly as she could. She could see Geralt's profile softly skulking around the edge of the room with his silver sword glinting in the eerie light the Cat potion lent to the room around her.
The massive six-legged form of the kikimore queen shifted sluggishly from its corner. Solona burned a few more clusters of eggs, and the queen suddenly let out an inhuman screech and lunged towards Solona.
At the same moment Geralt vaulted onto her back with his sword raised ready to strike. The queen reared up, her serrated legs flailing in the air, trying to dislodge the figure on her back. Not having anything to gain purchase with, Geralt went flying with a loud curse, and landed with a brittle, liquid crunch onto another cluster of eggs several yards away.
The queen lunged again towards Solona, who tumbled deftly around her to the other side of the room. Geralt, are you alright? Are you injured?
I'm fine. She's a slippery one... can you knock her around a little bit?
Solona gathered her will again, focusing as much power as she could into her staff, which she aimed at the lumbering insectoid creature. The force spell pounded into the queen with a crunch that staggered her briefly, but failed to move her.
That's all I've got... I'm a little low on magic right now.
Try a Tawny Owl. I gave you one before we came in.
She remembered seeing the potion and wondering what it was for. She drew it out and popped the cork off, chugging it down in a quick gulp. Immediately she began to feel the magic surging back to her, quicker even than her rejuvenation spell had worked.
While she was swallowing the potion she could see Geralt begin his assault on the queen. He danced around her with a barrage of slashes and stabs that painted streaks of light where his silver sword arced through the air. It was utterly beautiful to observe.
He hopped quickly backwards as the creature began to advance on him, her sharp mandibles clicking wildly and her forelegs swiping, razor-sharp protuberances threatening to slice him open if they connected.
Solona felt her magic surge back to its full strength and sent out a quick "Stand back!" to Geralt who gracefully somersaulted backwards out of range of the beast. She aimed her staff at the queen a second time, gathering as much power as she could. She sent the spell hurtling out at the creature, imagining the fist she had seen the day they had fought the koshchey. The spell didn't manifest the same way, but seemed to have a similar effect, barrelling into the queen and tumbling her solidly into the wall behind her, squashing another nest of eggs beneath her. She lay upended, serrated legs flailing in the air.
Solona collapsed into the ash and eggshell-strewn dirt, exhausted. She vaguely registered Geralt striding over to the twitching queen and hopping lithely up onto her belly. As he was about to plunge his blade into the creature she saw one twitching leg swing uncomfortably close to him. Watch out behind you, she sent to him weakly. He seemed not to hear.
"Geralt, behind you!" she attempted to call out, but was too late. The stray leg with its razor-sharp serrations swiped across his shoulders just as he plunged his sword into the creature's heart, killing it.
He cried out in pain and tumbled off, falling into another cluster of eggs on the far side of the queen's carcass. Solona dragged herself groggily off the ground and stumbled over to him, skirting around the acrid smelling body on the way. She found Geralt in a stinking pile of goo, writhing in agony from the wound on his back.
"Shit," she said when she saw him. She had little energy left for healing after that fight, but would have to do her best. She knelt down before him and winced at the sound and feel of the crushed shells and their former contents beneath her knees.
"Hold still," she said quietly. "Let me see how bad it is."
He gasped and tried to speak, "I... I think some of the... the," he screamed in agony as she attempted to shift his torn armor away from the wound to look at it. "Sw-swallow, give me a Swallow."
She nodded and pulled the potion quickly from her shoulder and fed it to him. After a few seconds his pain seemed to ease, but he seemed groggy and out of sorts. He nodded drunkenly at her.
"That's much better, how's it look?"
She could see a series of several short, even rips that made a line across the shoulders of his armor, straight through the light mail and leather. Beneath the rips were matching wounds in his skin that seemed to be about half closed, with remnants of the acidic kikimore egg slime bubbling out of them as his body expelled it.
"Yuck," she said, wrinkling her nose. "At least your body seems to be dealing with it for now. Tell me what I need to do to finish up in here."
He nodded and collapsed against the wall, leaning forward onto his bent knees to avoid irritating his injury. "Burn the rest of the eggs. Then cut out her brain stem. It's in her ass."
She gave him a dubious look. He shrugged, "Hey, I didn't make the monsters. That's where it is."
She found the energy to burn the few egg clusters that remained, then pulled out a dagger and went to work at the creature's hindquarters to extract the brain stem while Geralt slurred instructions to her. A moment later she extracted the bloody, grey mess that was the kikimore queen's brain stem, trailing with dark tendrils of thick grey matter. It was smaller than she'd expected it to be, she thought, and she stowed it in an empty leather pouch at her hip.
She went back and knelt next to Geralt who blinked up at her with a bleary grimace. She looked back at him with a concerned expression. "How are you doing? Feel like you're recovering? Can you walk yet?"
He blinked at her. "Too... many questionsh," he forced out. "Pretty sure I'm poishoned, though. You might... you might need to give me a bath," he leered at her.
She snorted at him. "Sounds like you're feeling just fine. Lean forward so I can see your wound."
He obeyed and she expended what little healing power she had to seal up his wounds. Unfortunately it seemed to do nothing for the toxicity in his blood that was making him loopy. He seemed to be a very happy, very horny drunk. It actually reminded her a little of Alistair, she realized with a small twinge. Except Alistair had never been prone to such lewdness.
"Let's get out of here," she said, reaching down to pull him to his feet. He swayed drunkenly for a second before steadying himself on her arm. She stooped down to grab her staff that lay still illuminated on the ground beside her, and they began to make their way up out of the depths of the mine.
"Ugh, you probably do need a bath, but not because you're poisoned. You reek. How much egg goop did you roll around in?" she coughed softly and struggled not to gag at the smell that emanated from him. He harumphed at her.
He insisted that they stop along the way and made her extract the valuable ingredients from the creatures they had killed on their way in. When they finally reached the surface again, Geralt was struggling to stand and it was all Solona could do to help him the last few yards through the door.
Dusk was falling, she could see. They would be camping here for the evening. She rested Geralt on the ground against the rocky doorway of the mine.
"Are they dead?" Bekim asked anxiously, shooting a concerned and mildly disgusted look at the state Geralt was in.
She nodded. "We took care of them all. They won't be bothering anyone again."
Lusa hopped up from where he'd been laying and ambled over to lick her hand. She gave him a quick scratch on the head.
"We'll need to camp here tonight. Geralt can't travel just yet - he needs several hours to regain his strength. Is there a creek nearby where we can get water?"
Bekim nodded vigorously. "Yes! There's a pool just down the hill behind the mine. If you want I can start us a fire... or I can get water... whatever you need."
Solona nodded, grateful. "You start a fire. I'm going to take Mister Smellypants there down to the water and get him cleaned up." She gestured at Geralt with a wrinkled nose.
She rifled through her pack for a moment and drew out a bar of soap.
"Soap?" Geralt called out belligerently from where he sat. "You packed soap?"
"It never hurts to be prepared," she shot back at him, then walked over and hoisted him up beside her and they staggered like a pair of drunks down the hill to the water.
At the bottom of the hill they found a quaint little cove with a small waterfall that fell into a large pool. The pool fed into a stream that burbled peacefully down the mountain. When they reached it, Solona unceremoniously tossed Geralt into it with a huge splash. After a second he came up spluttering and indignant.
"What the hell?" he yelled at her indignantly, and shivered in the growing twilight.
She tossed the soap at him, which he deftly caught in one hand.
"Clean yourself up or you're sleeping in the mine tonight," she said curtly.
She sat down at the edge of the pool and pulled off her egg-splattered boots and proceeded to scrub them with water, trying to get the noxious goo off them, then peeled off her trousers and went to work on them. She kept seeing red spots flickering before her eyes and blinked repeatedly in an attempt to clear her vision.
The icy chill of the water brought Geralt back to his senses violently. He gave Solona an evil look before he began to scrub himself vigorously with the soap. Normally he would have retaliated against such a blatant insult and was briefly tempted to drag her into the water with him, but he had to admit that the stench was somewhat overpowering. Cold water was the last thing he needed in his state, with the potion and kikimore toxins in his blood, but he was certain she would have a much harder time of it once the effects of the toxins in her blood became noticeable. Pulling her into the water would just add insult to injury in the end. So he endured and scrubbed himself as well as he could.
Realizing he couldn't sleep in soaking wet gear he tossed the soap back onto the shore and struggled with numbed fingers to undo the buckles of his vest. It was even more of a challenge to deal with the laces of his trousers once they were wet and he cursed Solona under his breath.
"Having trouble with something?" she asked impassively.
He grumbled at her. "Do you know how hard it is to untie wet leather?"
She beckoned to him and he waded towards her, stepping out of the water and standing unsteadily on the shore before her seated figure. She shifted onto her knees and deftly untied his leather trousers and then unbuckled his boots. He noticed her hands were beginning to shake slightly.
"That wasn't so hard," she said, looking up at him smugly.
He held her gaze for a moment while a suggestive smile played across his face.
After a second of hearing the proposition he'd just projected into her mind she exclaimed, "Geralt! Will you stop it? You're... practically drunk from toxins. And besides, if you haven't noticed, you were just in freezing cold water. I hardly think you'd be that impressive to behold right now."
"You're no fun. As a matter of fact, you are the antithis- anteseth- antithesis of fun," he grumped at her clumsily as he drew off his waterlogged boots, dumping each one out in turn, and then extracted himself from his wet trousers, leaving himself only in wet linen undergarments, which he quickly stripped off as well. He then proceeded to start shivering violently.
"Shit," Solona cursed herself for not thinking to bring a blanket with them. Luckily it wasn't a far walk back up to their campsite. She stood quickly and swayed on her feet from a sudden wave of vertigo, but caught herself before she fell. She gathered Geralt's clothing into a bundle and grasped him around the waist to help him back up the hill, their two pairs of bare feet unsteady on the gravelly path. He slung one arm across her shoulders and leaned on her heavily for support, the damp chill of him immediately soaking into her exposed skin. About halfway up the hill he blurted out, "Let me carry that," and grabbed at the bundle of his clothing, holding it surreptitiously in front of his nether region.
She sniggered at him softly. "You didn't seem so worried about showing off a minute ago, and now you're feeling shy?"
He snorted softly, "Boy wants to be a Witcher. Seeing scars will impress him. Seeing Prince Jolly just out of a cold bath will not."
She laughed. "Only a prince, huh? I would have thought he'd be the king, if anything."
He gave her an exaggeratedly surprised look, "Of course not. I'm the king. And don't - you - forgetit!" He nodded his head in emphasis of each syllable.
"Well I suppose you have to consider who's really ruling who," she said matter-of-factly.
He looked at her beseechingly and said, "Can we stop talking about my pecker now, please? He's feeling just a little... shy... at the moment." He cleared his throat and stared in an overly dignified manner at the path before them.
"Okay... King Geralt," she said blithely, in an attempt to humor him. "Let's get you and the prince into some dry clothes before you both die from hypothermia."
"The Prince is somewhat crucial to our mission, after all," he said in mock seriousness and shrugged softly.
She dug a free knuckle into his ribs causing him to gasp, but she was unable to suppress the laughter that bubbled forth from her chest.
They finally reached the campsite and were pleasantly surprised to see that Bekim had a large, crackling fire burning, the horses unsaddled and hobbled for the evening in a grassy clearing nearby, and their two bedrolls thoughtfully unrolled side by side.
Lusa trotted in a moment later and dropped the second of a pair of small, plump rabbits onto the ground in front of Bekim who was busily skinning the first unlucky piece of game.
Bekim looked up with a start when they came over the hill. He stood abruptly and dropped his rabbit on the stump he'd been sitting on, then ran over to help Solona escort the naked Geralt to his bed. They lowered him gently and Solona wrapped a heavy blanket around his shivering shoulders.
"Anything I can do?" Bekim asked anxiously.
Solona shook her head. "No. He'll be fine. He just needs to get warm and get some rest. You go back to cooking. We'll need to get some food in him, too."
Bekim stared thoughtfully at Geralt's scarred torso for several seconds, then bent down to take the man's bundle of wet clothing from him. He glanced at Solona and his brow creased suddenly.
"You don't look so good, neither," the boy said to her with a tone of deep concern.
"I'm fine," she objected.
"No... you... you're very pale, are you feverish?" He held the back of his hand up to Solona's head and nodded.
"Sit," he commanded, and she sat on her own bedroll, suddenly realizing she was too weak to do any more than follow orders.
She heard an unsteady whisper beside her. "It's- the p-potions," Geralt said through chattering teeth. "I had th-three, which is n-normally f-fine for me, but with the added t-toxins from the kikimores, it outdid me. Your system must not be yet ready to m-manage that many. Two potions were almost too many for you and adrenaline can only keep you going for so long."
She nodded and slumped back onto her bedroll, watching as the world began to swim around her. She lay quietly, unable to do more than breathe for several moments. Eventually she found the will to pick up her hands to remove the rest of her hide armor and place it on the ground beside her cleaned boots and trousers. The bitter chill in the air caused goose flesh to rise up on her skin and she shivered briefly in her small cotton undershirt and the skimpy smallclothes she wore. She wrapped herself tightly in her blanket just as her teeth began chattering loudly. She shivered violently as she lay there trying to get warm, her head still swimming woozily from the toxins in her blood.
Come to me, she heard in her head and looked over to see Geralt still shivering beneath his own blanket, his skin pale and clammy and his lips an unhealthy shade of blue.
She lifted up her blanket and shifted over to him, sliding beneath his blanket to press her body against his. She draped her own blanket across them both and wrapped her arms tightly around his naked torso.
He wrapped both his arms and legs around her and buried his head under the blanket by her shoulder.
Warm... you are so warm... thank you. She could hear the relief as much as feel it in his body as his shivering gradually abated. Her own shivering also subsided as their shared heat began to warm her.
They both just lay there for what seemed an eternity. No thoughts, no movement, just sucking in each other's warmth.
Next Chapter: In which we see a different perspective.