Conjunction

Chapter 27 - Crossroads

Three weeks later. 12 weeks until Midsummer. Outskirts of Ban Glean, on the border between Kaedwen and Aedirn

They heard the rumble of wagon wheels and the murmur of voices drifting through the crisp air behind them for some time before the caravan caught up to them. When it drew close, they could hear the familiar notes of one of Dandelion's songs drifting through the snowy air towards their ears.

"Shit," Geralt said under his breath as he steered Roach to the side of the road when the caravan came up behind them.

"What is it?" Solona asked, pulling her horse up next to him and adjusting her hood so her face was fully in shadow.

"Dandelion."

She gave him a sideways glance. "I thought you were best friends."

"He is my closest friend, but that doesn't mean I want him to know every detail of my life."

"You don't trust him?"

"I do. I know he means well, at least."

"But...?"

"But... all things considered, I would prefer fewer people knew where you were. Particularly people who have a habit of writing songs about us."

"Should I go... hide or something?" she asked with a wry expression he could just make out beneath her hood.

"No. We'll deal with this. Running now would cause more suspicion than staying put."

The caravan began to amble past. Most people were on foot, but several were riding atop overloaded wagons and a few were on horseback. They could hear the lively notes of a lute being plucked from somewhere near the back of the farthest wagon.

Geralt nodded at the lead wagon and the driver nodded back. When they were past, Solona saw the driver cut a quick glance backwards and say something to the man seated beside him, who looked back at them. She barely heard the man whisper witcher before they were out of earshot.

"What was that about?" Solona asked.

"They're probably hoping we join the caravan. Having a Witcher along for the ride usually means they'll make it to their destination safely. They won't outright ask, though, unless they're actively having issues with monsters. They don't want to pay us to be bodyguards."

"Are we going to join them?"

"No."

When she gave him a sharp glance, he amended his answer. "We'll stay close, but we won't camp with them. It's safer for you if we avoid large groups. They'll be more comfortable if we keep our distance, anyway."

She nodded.

A moment later she and Geralt both cringed when Lusa ran up beside her horse and started howling melodically as the last wagon in the caravan trundled past them.

There was a dissonant twang of lute strings and a purple-cloaked figure hopped off the back of the wagon and trotted over to them.

"Geralt! Is that you?"

The figure pushed his hood back displaying Dandelion's scruffy visage and dark, unruly hair. A huge grin was plastered on his face.

"Hello, Dandelion. Where's this group headed?" Geralt scanned the line of wagons.

The bard looked back at the line of wagons. "Not sure really. As far south as possible is the best I could figure out, which is good enough for me."

"Have you been in Ard Carraigh all this time?" Geralt asked.

"I had to stay for the wedding! Henselt's new queen was gloriously pregnant at the time. The king himself was a smug bastard. I think he deliberately waited until it was obvious before having the wedding, just to show off the fact that he had an heir on the way. I hear he has the White Queen herself to thank for it, too. At least that's the rumour."

With that he turned to look at Solona's cloaked figure, his eyes drifting over her tattered black cloak.

"Is that you under all those rags, Solona?" he asked, giving her a sly grin.

She pushed her hood back slightly so he could see her face.

"Hello, Dandelion," she said with a grin.

He beamed back at her. "You look beautiful as always. It's good to see you."

"Good to see you, too, Dandelion."

He turned to look back at the caravan that was now much further down the road.

"I hate to cut this short, but they're actually paying me for my company. You two will be camping nearby I hope? I'll try to catch up with you later. Oh, and Henselt sends his regards."

Geralt seemed surprised by Dandelion's last statement, but nodded and Dandelion gave them both a wave before jogging down the road to catch up with the tail of the caravan.

ooOoo

Solona awoke late that night to the sounds of terrified screams. She lurched out of her bedroll and immediately threw on her leathers and grabbed her staff. When she exited the tent she found Geralt already dressed with his silver sword drawn. Lusa waited attentively by his side with an eager look, warily sniffing the air.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Something's spooked them. A beast or monster of some sort from the sounds I could make out. It smells like a Leshy."

She inhaled through her nose and caught the slight whiff of a strong musky odor.

They ran several yards down the road to the clearing where the caravan had set up camp. Many of the campers were just emerging from their wagons or tents, curious about the noises. They gradually became more alarmed when they saw the damage wrought by the nocturnal invader.

In the center of the camp was a large firepit that was burned down to coals and there were three bodies lying bloody around it. Solona stopped quickly to see if they could be helped. They were all dead, their throats ripped out by whatever creature had attacked.

She saw a swift four-legged shadow streak by in the corner of her eye, the unmistakable shape of a small body clenched in its teeth. She turned quickly and pointed.

"There!"

They ran towards the spot where the shadow had disappeared into the woods. Their legs pumped and their feet crunched through hardened snow as they sped across the clearing to the edge of the woods, their cloaks streaming behind them.

"Solona, catch!" Geralt yelled and tossed a small object to her in the darkness. She snatched it out of the air, her hand a blur of movement. She quickly uncorked the small vial and tossed back the contents, swallowing as she continued to run.

Within seconds the darkness receded and the world around her was rendered in stark contrast. The shadows were non-existent. The trees and other objects of the forest were nearly white and the cold air between them dark gray. She could see the white specs of snowflakes drifting through the air around them.

She heard Lusa bark and turned to see their quarry running swiftly between the trees. It clawed its way up the trunk of one, then climbed among the branches above them, shaking mounds of snow from them to fall in clumps on the ground beneath it as it continued to run from them.

They made their way through the trees and she looked above them trying to locate it. It was still leaping from branch to branch, letting out loud snarls periodically. Lusa, with his ever reliable sense of smell that she was sure was still better than hers, even now, alerted them to its presence a moment later.

She found the creature hovering on a low branch nearby. It looked like a cross between a cat and a bear, its ears twitching. Its scent finally hit her sensitive nostrils and she flinched. It smelled atrocious.

She saw Geralt begin to carefully navigate around to the other side of the tree the creature was hiding in, his silver sword unsheathed and glinting in the moonlight. He signaled to her when he reached his destination. He wanted her to distract it. She nodded back at him and her staff began to glow with power as she drew magic out of the air around her.

It turned its head and growled, low and menacing around the small body still clutched in its jaws. It seemed unwilling to let go of its prey, which appeared to be a small child – already dead from the looks of it. Then she met its eyes and saw what lurked in their depths and she knew she couldn't let the creature live. It was more than just a beast. It was an intelligent, vindictive monster. It would kill anything that came close, regardless of whether the other creature was a threat to it or not.

She let out a loud roar as she aimed her staff and released a surge of magic through it at the creature. The force of her spell threw it off the branch and sent it sailing through the air. The small body fell limply from its jaws into the soft snow on the ground beneath the tree it had been in.

The creature crashed through trees and bushes and landed with a heavy thud in a tangle of limbs but recovered quickly and stood up. Its eyes were intent on her and it began to charge, but before it could a white-haired figure leaped into its path, silver sword blurring through the air in a huge arc. The sword's sharp edge connected with the creature's neck, decapitating it cleanly in a single stroke. The head rolled off to the side and the body slumped in front of the witcher, inert and unmoving.

She watched as Geralt placidly stooped to pick up the creature's head then turned to walk towards her.

"This is done. Let's get back to bed," he said brusquely. She could smell the coppery scent of the creature's blood as it dripped from the skull he held in his fist. The way his eyes bored into hers made her think that getting back to bed might actually not be a very good idea at the moment.

"I just need a moment," she said, tearing her eyes away from his. She swiftly strode forward to where she'd seen the Leshy's victim fall from the tree.

When she found the small body, she stooped down and picked it up, gently cradling it in her arms. She could see that it was a small girl with curly black hair. There were bloody lacerations over her torso, and deep, bloody bite marks on her shoulder. The girl let out a small whimper of pain and Solona exclaimed in surprise.

"She's still alive!"

Geralt jogged over to her and threw his cloak on the ground so Solona could lay the child down on it.

"Everything's okay now, sweetie," she said, smoothing back the child's hair and struggling to hold back a sob of relief that welled up in her. She looked so much like Beth when she was younger. If only she had been there to protect her cousin. But she could save this child.

She pushed back her hood and scarf in irritation, then drew in as much magic as she could hold and began to heal the child's wounds. She was lucky she hadn't had her neck broken the way the creature had been tossing her about as it ran. After a long period of intense healing, Solona sat back with a sigh. The girl would survive.

The girl began crying in earnest and Solona swiftly wrapped her up in Geralt's cloak and stood with her cradled in her arms, shushing her and rocking her gently.

"Are you warm enough?" she asked, looking at him. She realized he'd been standing silently watching her for a good half an hour while she healed the child.

Geralt was giving her a strange look but nodded in response to their question. "I'll be fine. Let's get her back to her family."

When they reached the camp, the people seemed to have calmed down and were tending to their wounded and their dead. Three men had been killed outright as they stood watch, the creature stealthily sneaking up on them when they were unwary. It had then apparently sniffed out the sweetest meat and brazenly plunged into the tent of a family, finally managing to snatch their child after a desperate fight with her father. The mother had only received scratches and ran crying to Solona when she saw her carrying the small body back into camp.

"Oh! Oh no, my poor, sweet Elsa!" she cried as she reached out to take the whimpering child from Solona's arms. The child reached instantly for her mother who looked at Solona with a surprised and infinitely grateful expression.

"Oh sweet Melitele's grace! You saved her! You are a saint, dear lady. Who are you?" The woman looked at Solona reverently.

Solona avoided an introduction and tersely said, "Where is your husband, let me see to his injuries." The woman gestured vaguely and followed as Solona trudged to the nearly destroyed tent to find a prone figure lying sobbing incoherently and bleeding profusely from severe scratches across his chest and bites that covered most of the flesh on his arms.

"Shhh, your daughter is fine. The creature is dead," Solona said in an attempt to comfort the man. "Let me see to your wounds."

Her white locks flowed freely in the snowy breeze as she began to tend his injuries. Immediately upon seeing her face the man seemed to calm.

"Gwynrhena," he gasped as he gazed up at her in dazed reverence. Her eyes shot to his face and she cursed inwardly, pulling her hood back up to cover her hair.

"You're going to be fine," she said to him in a tense voice when she finished healing his wounds.

She turned to the child's mother who was still partially in shock, but graciously allowed her to see to her small scratches. The woman was looking at her with the same expression of adoration her husband had given her and Solona did her best to ignore it. The child was still curled in her mother's lap, wrapped in Geralt's cloak. She gazed out at Solona from beneath the heavy folds with big blue eyes, her thumb snugly ensconced between her lips.

Solona couldn't help but give her a gentle smile. "Hey, sweetheart. I need to get my friend's cloak back. Do you think you can stand up for me?" She reached for a woolen blanket she saw nearby and held it out for the little girl. The girl gazed at her uncertainly for a second, then nodded and wriggled off her mother's lap, leaving the cloak behind. Solona quickly bundled her up in the blanket and nodded at the child's mother in gratitude when she handed Geralt's cloak over. The child immediately crawled back into her mother's lap. Solona could hear the mother murmuring soft comforting words as she turned to go.

She walked across the camp searching for Geralt, who she found standing near the fire speaking with the a man she recognized as the one that had been driving the lead wagon the previous day. The man had a somewhat shocked expression on his face and nodded at what Geralt was telling him. She walked to stand next to Geralt, handing him his cloak. Both men stopped speaking to look at her.

"The girl and her father are out of danger. Are there any other injured?"

The man stared at her in awe and ducked his head.

"N-no, m'lady. Just the three poor fools the creature killed. There's nothing to do for 'em now besides pray they find peace. Many thanks for saving the child the Leshy stole." He turned to Geralt and nodded to him, "We'll be sure to camp farther from the trees from now on. Thank you, Witcher... a-are you certain we can't pay you somehow?"

Geralt shook his head. "No. We're not out for contracts. We're just travelers like you, heading south."

Solona looked for Lusa as they headed back to their own small camp. When they grew close to it, she saw their fire built up and heard Geralt's low grumble. She could also hear the definite soft lilt of lute strings and Lusa's melodic voice as he sang along with some song of Dandelion's.

"He's going to want to write a song about tonight, no doubt," Geralt said.

They reached their camp a few seconds later. Dandelion ceased his idle strumming and turned to look at them.

"Ah, our saviors," he said, his tone almost as reverent as the man Solona had healed earlier. Dandelion stood to greet them.

Geralt scowled.

"Dandelion," Solona greeted him warmly with a light kiss on the cheek and sat down beside him. "So, are you already composing the song about tonight?" she asked demurely, cutting her eyes to Geralt, who grimaced as he sat down on a fallen log across from them.

Dandelion glanced at her with his mouth parted and then looked at Geralt with a slight look of chagrin.

"Well, I'm composing a bit, if you must know... but under the circumstances I felt I should at least get your side of the story. I need to write the truth after all." His voice was just a little conspiratorial.

"You can write what you want, Dandelion. You always do," Geralt said. "But if you want to do us a favor, don't start singing it until Midsummer."

Dandelion looked crestfallen. "Midsummer? But that's an entire season lost. I need to sing it while it's still fresh in everyone's minds."

Geralt's scowl deepened. He sighed, resigned. "At least wait a week. Hopefully we'll be far enough ahead of the caravan by then and won't have to worry about the song catching up to us."

"As you wish," Dandelion said with a conciliatory nod and began strumming again.

Solona smirked as she watched Geralt's scowl turn into a grimace.

"Dandelion."

"Yes, Geralt?" the bard asked sweetly.

"Don't you have your own camp to sleep in?"

Dandelion cleared his throat. "Why, yes. Yes, I suppose I do." He gave Solona a knowing look and stood.

"Sweet dreams, my queen," he said softly and bent to kiss her on the cheek.

"Good night, Dandelion," she said and raised her eyebrow at Geralt.

After Dandelion was safely out of earshot, Solona said, "You're a bit wound up, don't you think? It's probably best if we avoid cozy dark places in close proximity to each other."

Geralt moved to sit next to her. She could feel the tension in him.

"You're right. I'm always a bit charged after a fight." He was quiet for a moment and she felt his hand cover hers briefly and squeeze.

"It's too cold out here for meditating. Join me in the tent?"

Solona was surprised. They'd never meditated together.

"Remember what I just said about cozy dark places?"

He nodded and said, "We can't meditate out here. And if we do sleep there are other factors to consider - your dreams, for instance. I think meditating for the both of us is the best option. And we have a long journey ahead of us, and no sign that it will be getting any warmer. This may be the only option open to us for a long while."

Until Midsummer, were the words she knew he wasn't speaking. She nodded and stepped into the tent. He followed behind her.

"You were different tonight," Geralt ventured as they knelt across from each other on their bedding, blankets draped over their shoulders to fend off the chill winter air.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"With the child. I've never seen you like that. Something about her affected you, Solona."

She glanced down at her hands where they rested on her leather-clad thighs, then back up to meet his gaze.

"She looked just like my cousin Beth when she was that age. She was like a sister to me."

"Beth... the girl whose fate Flemeth tortured you with that day at the elven ruins?"

Solona snorted. He was always so observant, wasn't he? Her voice was tense as she replied. "Yes, Beth... Bethany. I couldn't be there to save her and the knowledge still kills me. But I could save that little girl."

She looked into Geralt's eyes and saw that he understood that need to save what was good. He understood her need to save the world. The worlds.

"Why?" she asked softly. "Why do you want to do this with me?"

She didn't elaborate, but he seemed to catch her meaning. She could tell he struggled with the answer.

"I have many reasons. If the prophecy is true, then I really have no choice... everything will end if we don't fix it."

"But, Geralt, the Grimoire only covers the details up to the ritual. After that we're on our own. Flemeth even said as much. The real fixing happens after the ritual. And it terrifies me because I don't know if that means you won't be with me afterwards. The prophecy has told us everything that happens up until that point, but nothing past it."

"We'll just have to deal with that when we get there," he said. He reached down and gripped her hands in his, twining his fingers between hers. "We need to meditate, Solona. Clear your mind as I taught you. You'll feel better in a few hours."

She clutched his hands desperately, finding comfort in the small contact. His fingers were very warm against her cold skin and he squeezed back tightly. His yellow slitted eyes met hers and a charged glance passed between them.

"Clear your mind," he said with a slightly admonishing tone. She nodded and bowed her head as though in prayer. She could feel his fingers tightly woven with hers and his kneecaps up against her own. She took several slow, deep breaths in an effort to clear her mind and could hear his own breathing deepen and slow perceptibly. Quickly her training kicked in and she felt the meditative trance overtake her and time sped by.

ooOoo

They reached Ban Glean the next day. The town seemed to be bustling with activity. It was one of the two major crossings of the Pontar River that separated the Northern Kingdoms from those further south. It sat at a crossroads and was relatively small, compared to other cities in the Northern Kingdoms, but boasted a large fortress at its southern edge that guarded against invasion from the south.

Today it seemed as though the fortress was on the wrong side of the village, as the south was apparently in the process of being invaded by the travelers seeking to escape the ongoing bitter winter that had already extended well into spring.

The caravan headed straight through town, many of its members drifting off into the town to gather supplies. They would meet at the camp in the evening on the southern side of the large gates of the fortress. Geralt expected they would spend one more evening camping near the caravan, but would need to pick up their pace soon if they were to keep on schedule.

"We need supplies," he said and Solona nodded back at him, her expression strained. She'd had another episode early that morning after breakfast but it had been thankfully brief.

"Will you be alright if we split up?" he asked. "We need fresh provisions, and I need to find an apothecary to restock my potion ingredients."

"I think I can manage provisions, Geralt," she said with a wan smile. "Lusa can keep an eye on me."

He nodded. His potion supplies were dwindling and the winter snow had made it difficult for him to gather the necessary herbs on their journey. Normally during this time of year fresh growth was already occurring and he would have no trouble keeping stocked. Even the monsters had been scarce due to the cold, which was somewhat of a blessing, but still meant he was woefully short on ingredients.

He walked her to the small market square where she could purchase provisions to last them for the next couple weeks, at least until they reached the next town where they could purchase supplies. He left her with Lusa and and gave her brief directions to the apothecary's shop on the southeastern side of town, telling her to meet him there when she was finished.

Roach's hooves clattered behind him as he led the horse down the cobbled path that led between the stone-walled houses of the town. The herbalist's shop was in a far corner of the town, nestled against the wall of the fortress. The familiar structure was a ramshackle stone house that had a small, well-kept fenced garden on the side where it could catch the southern sun, but the garden was cold and dead. He hoped the apothecary kept a backstock of goods that he could purchase.

He tethered his horse to the garden fence and stepped through the door. The aroma of dried herbs assaulted his nostrils and he was surprised by the little ringing bell that tinkled above his head when he opened the door. The bell hadn't been here the last time he'd visited. It had been some time since he'd been here and he realized the last time must have been before he'd lost his memory.

The interior was lit by several lanterns and a small fireplace in addition to the grey winter light that filtered through the small windows. A large, notch-eared grey cat regarded Geralt silently from where it was comfortably curled atop a scarred wooden counter a few yards inside the shop. The walls were lined with shelves that reached to the ceiling and were filled with all manner of different shaped containers labeled with white paper covered in swirly script. Too many of the containers seemed to be empty.

Geralt pushed his hood and cloak back in the comfortable heat of the shop.

"Ah, Witcher!" he heard a raspy, nasally voice call out. "It's been far too long since you've visited my humble establishment."

A hunched figure in a heavy robe shuffled through a small doorway behind the counter.

"Ziggy," Geralt said warmly. He strode over to the man and grasped his gnarled hand gently in greeting.

"You look as young and spry as ever, Geralt," the old man said, regarding Geralt intently. "But something is very different about you... I can't put my finger on it. Strange, strange. Strange things are afoot lately, my boy."

Geralt smiled. He'd known Zigmund Eggers since the old man who stood before him had been a child. He'd been just as oddly cryptic at age ten as he was now. He thought that's why he'd been drawn to him to begin with.

"Yes, there's something strange afoot. You are very astute, my friend," Geralt said.

The old man raised an eyebrow and then squinted his near-sighted eyes at Geralt, craning his neck closer to Geralt's face.

"You know much more about the situation than you're letting on, don't you, kiddo?"

Geralt had to suppress a laugh. He remembered a time when he used to call Ziggy "kiddo" in the distant past, not long after they had met. It was still entertaining to him to remember when the man finally surpassed him in physical age and had turned the tables.

"I might, but unfortunately I can't discuss it with you. What I need from you are herbs. It's been tricky replenishing my supplies in the wild since spring seems reluctant to join us this year."

The old man was instantly distracted from his question, his eyes lighting up and his face losing decades of age in his apparent enthusiasm.

"I have a special stash, just for occasions such as this, Geralt. Do you have a list of specifics or shall I just package up a bit of everything?"

Geralt was surprised for a second, then said, "A bit of everything would serve me well. Thank you, Ziggy. You never cease to amaze me."

The old man grinned at him then shuffled back through the door he'd entered from and Geralt shortly heard him mumbling to himself amidst the sounds of clinking jars and crinkling paper. Geralt couldn't help but wonder how much of what he was about to buy were materials he'd actually sold to the man over the years.

While he waited, he stood by the counter petting the grey cat who had rolled over displaying its belly to him after its master had left. He was engrossed in letting the cat lick his fingertips when he heard the door open behind him. He stiffened and began to turn around.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see a black-cloaked figure standing in the open doorway. A gust of cold wind came through the door behind the figure. He blinked repeatedly when the scent of lilac and gooseberries hit his nostrils carried by the breeze. His gut constricted as though he had been kicked. He couldn't suppress the grimace that instantly crossed his features as he turned to stare at the figure.

She threw back her hood and stood stock still after closing the door behind her. She stared at him in disbelief.

"Geralt?" she said, utter incredulity resonating in her voice.

"Yennefer," he replied breathlessly.