The Eternal Wish

by ChestOfStories

Yennefer asks Geralt to help her find a djinn on an old broken ship on Skellige Isles. After all these years, she wishes to finally know for sure whether their love was real. Meanwhile, The Wild Hunt is hot on Ciri's trail, and their world is in danger. Based on books and games lore with our additions. Feedback HIGHLY appreciated.

94. Chapter 94

Ciri had aimed for her own room at Vizima castle once she teleported from Fealinn's hut. And yet, she ended up in Morvran's quarters, as though her mind had changed halfway through and directed her course elsewhere.

She stumbled into his heavy desk and uttered some very colorful curses as the jagged corner dug into her thigh.

Fringilla and Morvran shot up from their chairs at the sight of her.

"Oh, finally!" Fringilla said. "Are you all right? It took you long enough for us to start worrying."

"How did it go?" Morvran asked, passing her a goblet of water. "Learn anything?"

Ciri rubbed her thigh and accepted the goblet from Morvran. "I have a clue. But we might as well wait until Yennefer is here. She needs to hear this as well. Have you seen her?"

"She was in her quarters with Istredd and Triss," Fringilla said. "We can all talk there."

Ciri emptied the goblet in one go and placed it on Morvran's desk before heading for the door. "Let's go then."

A few minutes later, they found Yennefer, Istredd, and Triss in the anti-chamber outside Yennefer's bedroom, seated on the couch and plush chairs around the table.

Ciri didn't waste any time telling them about the message that Kain had gotten from Geralt in Brokilon, as well as him going to Oxenfurt to examine the catacombs below. She didn't mention Fealinn by name, nor did she intend to.

"So, Aen Elle got him, after all," Morvran mused, scowling. "It'll be hard to get him back if they took him to their world. If they keep him here, however... we can check all the places of recent attacks. There are a few villages, mostly those hunting Scoia'tael - Lady Findabair was right about that connection."

"I want to search the catacombs," Ciri said. Unlike most of the others, she had yet to take a seat. "If they set a trap for him there, clues may have been left behind."

"You're right," Triss said. "But you can't go alone. Yen and I will go with you."

"I shall join," Fringilla said. "Have to play it safer."

"I appreciate that." Ciri managed a smile. "I need to tell you something else as well." She shifted her gaze to Yennefer. "About Avallac'h."

And so she told the group how the Sage had been the one to remove Yennefer from the tower. It felt important they know. In case Fealinn was right and the elf was still up to no good.

Yennefer felt grateful to Avallac'h for what he'd done to get her out of the tower, but at the same time — he'd left her out in the cold. Literally. She shuddered at the thought, at the reminder of that awful place. A place she'd wanted to go to more than once.

It didn't matter anymore. At least for now. What did matter was Geralt. Kain.

"So Avallac'h has been around all this time. Why has he been hiding?"

"Won't know that until we ask him," Ciri said. "He's obviously not first priority, but I wanted you all to know, in case you come across him. I can't be certain if he has plans of his own."

"I've been searching for him relentlessly all over Skellige," Triss said. "I know he's not much of a friend for druids, nor would it be easy to locate him, but I hoped he'd contact any one of us, given the troubles." She looked at Ciri. "Are you absolutely sure he had no part in what happened to Kain?"

"No," Ciri admitted. "In fact, I'm quite worried he did have something to do with it. The only positive in that situation is that he would never actually harm Kain physically. He's Hen Ichaer. Avallac'h needs us."

"Is it possible he needs just one of you?" Morvran asked. "And either would do?"

Ciri shrugged. "I suppose. Though Avallac'h always seemed particularly preoccupied with the fact I am Lara's descendant. But I suppose Elder Blood is Elder Blood."

"Is he not Lara's descendant as well?" Morvran asked.

"That's the thing," Ciri said, shrugging. "We don't know. He never knew his father, and his mother never spoke about it. No way to contact her, either."

"I see," Morvran said. "But it might be your sage knows more about it, and his preference — if he has one — depends on that."

"We can't know his true intentions," Fringilla put in. "Sages are a special breed."

"That they are," Morvran agreed. "However, it's not something to ponder at this very moment." He looked at Ciri closely. "Are you in any shape to go to the catacombs now? You need rest. Who knows what you face there."

Yennefer couldn't think of rest now that they knew what had happened to Geralt and Kain. It didn't seem fair. Or right.

She looked to Istredd who'd been quiet, wondering what he was thinking, if he had anything he wanted to add. If he could feel the change in her gut, in her need and worry. "I... we should rest. Regain as much of our energy as we can... we're going to need it, we're going to need it to fight..."

"That is most reasonable," Istredd nodded and looked at Ciri.

"You do need some shuteye, darling," Triss said, reaching to touch Ciri's shoulder. "You must be so tired. Hardly Kain is kept in those catacombs, and clues can wait a few hours."

"What?" Ciri stared at them all. "No, we have to go now! I'm not going to leave Geralt and Kain with The Red Riders any longer than is necessary. We can sleep once we have them back."

"Ciri, you're exhausted," Triss tried again. "No one wins if you collapse. There's no witcher potion to sustain you."

"This is nothing." Ciri gestured to herself. "I've leaped through worlds for weeks with hardly any sleep at all."

She looked at them all. "Imagine it was you. If you were taken prisoner. Possibly being tormented or forced to do something that goes against your nature. Would you not want your loved ones to save you immediately?"

"I would," Yennefer answered, recalling her experience in the tower in the far recesses of her mind. The scenarios that had made her skin crawl and her heart hollow out. "I also know I'd want them to be as strong as possible when they get there. They'd understand. They'd want you at your best."

"We're debating longer than necessary," Morvran piped in. He appraised Ciri humorously. "If I've learned anything by now, it's that there is no forcing you. If you wish to go now - go. But promise to return at once and rest then."

Ciri shot him a smile. It wasn't as though she was asking permission anyway, but she could appreciate how well he knew her already.

"I am going now. Those who wish to join me, get ready."

---

The group of four — three sorceresses with Ciri — departed immediately, leaving Istredd behind in case they needed assistance from the castle.

They didn't bother with any permissions from the Oxenfurt Academy; Triss and Fringilla opened the portals directly to the catacombs where they remembered the passage to be.

"We repaired the wall," Triss said. "But it should be here somewhere..."

Fringilla did a light spell, illuminating the dungeon.

Ciri ran her hands over the wall, searching for any weaknesses and inconsistencies. "Here," she deduced after a while, standing back. "Can you blast it open?"

"Blasting is a bad idea," Fringilla said, stalling Yennefer's arm raised and ready to do magic. She stepped forward, focusing, and murmured a spell, her hands gently spreading, and the bricks began to shift, move out of the wall and fall down. After a few moments, there was a passage into the darkness that smelled of mold and wet stone.

"Nicely done," Triss remarked. "The less noise we make the better."

Ciri peered through the opening and into the dark. "May I have one of those glowing balls?"

Once Fringilla indulged her, she stepped through and took the lead down the narrow path. She let one hand drag along the wall as she walked, the slight discomfort of the jagged surface against her sore fingertips keeping her alert and focused.

She didn't truly expect any Aen Elle elves to be hiding in the catacombs. At least not until they reached the lab. But the fact that Kain may have stepped into a trap last he was here made her all the more cautious.

Yennefer remained close to Ciri as they began to move through the tunneling system, a glowing ball at her own side, moving around her along the walls like a curious pixie, making sure to reveal as much of the surface as it could. She didn't want to miss any other clues.

When they all squeezed through the narrow natural passage between the rocky walls and ended up in the chamber with the portal arc, the sorceresses attempted to press closer to the walls to allow Ciri more space to search — the chamber was rather small for four.

"There is a residue of magic," Triss said, gliding a hand across the white arc outlining the inactive elven portal. "Faint, but not quite."

Ciri touched the marble as well, inhaling sharply when a golden swirl came alive inside the arch as if awakening to her presence. Her blood.

Why had this not worked the first time she and Yennefer found it? What had changed?

She turned to eye the sorceresses behind her. "Shall we?"

"Let us go in first," Fringilla said, and Triss nodded; they both moved forward and stepped through.

Yennefer smiled at Ciri, taking her hand, and holding onto it tightly as she moved to the portal, pushing aside any fear she might have had about being separated from her girl.

The abandoned laboratory that met them on the other side looked a tad different than Ciri remembered. As though someone had disturbed it after she and Yennefer had last been there.

Kain would have been there, of course. But would he have spent much time there before moving on?

Ciri stepped into the adjoining room. "The corpses are gone!" she called out to catch Yennefer's attention. "Remember? There were two of them. Right here."

Why would anyone have cared enough to remove them?

Triss and Fringilla were eyeballing the dusty glass bottles and retorts with different things contained inside in a transparent liquid. There were fetuses of many a life form, both from this world and some neither sorceress has seen before. A few instruments in pristine condition were abandoned on tables, and dust layers were disturbed.

"Shani, I would guess," Triss smiled. "She wouldn't pass on such a chance and go away without any souvenirs."

"Quality like this — surely," Vigo said, picking up an instrument to take a closer look. The metal was shiny and polished, not one scratch on it, as if never used. "Perhaps we don't even know what metal it is."

"It is not of this world."

The women jumped, whirling around. A tall hooded figure approached them from another room's doorway. Even before he removed the hood, Ciri knew who it was. So did Triss, her face distorting with a scowl.

Ciri closed the space between her and Avallac'h in two seconds, her clenched hands pounding on his chest in a furious rhythm.

"How could you?" she bellowed up into the elf's handsome face, her own flushed with blood and heat. "How could you do this to me, you son of a whore!"

Despite her previous statement to Fealinn, Ciri's dagger remained in its sheath. A part of her wanted to wound Avallac'h as grievously as he had done her. But another still cared about him.

Even as she hated him, she cared.

Avallac'h made no effort to stop her or grab her hands. He stood in place like a rock she couldn't move.

"Calm yourself, Zireael. We don't have more than a few moments."

Yennefer had stepped forward at Sage's appearance, not to thwart her daughter's reaction, but to provide her with support. A part of her also wanted answers. A lot of answers.

"Time is meaningless!" Ciri told him, a direct quote from one of the many times Avallac'h had told her this himself.

She grabbed the front of his fine robes and pulled him close, her voice low and menacing. "What have you done? What have you done to him?"

"Calm down," he repeated. His hands covered hers, dexterously unclasping her fingers from his lapels. He glanced between the sorceresses with a gauging look. "Your using the portal alerted Dearg Ruadhri. If you wish to protect Zireael, two of you need to depart immediately in separate directions to mislead them. As soon as you arrive - use your means to escape to safety."

"Why would we believe you?" Triss said. "It could be another lie or trap. We aren't leaving her."

"Then you lose her here," Avallac'h said. "Now."

"You abandoned her and now pretend to care?" Triss insisted.

"I never abandoned her, but it is solely between her and me. Now, do as I say or all is lost. What do you choose?"

"We don't have time to argue or second guess. Leave," Yennefer said, her voice low and demanding, brooking no argument. Her attention shifted from the sage to the person she'd once considered her best friend and a confidant. "Both of you. I'll stay — I'll keep her safe." Of everything they knew about her, about the lengths Yennefer was willing to go through for Ciri, Triss — if anyone — at least had to know.

"If he lies, he will have both of you," Triss argued. "Aen Elle have captured you before, Yen! You know how unwise it—"

"If it's true, however," Fringilla pointed out, "we have no time to linger. Yennefer will protect her. If anything happens, we have more than enough power to remedy this."

"It is no trap," Avallac'h said. "I will help Zireael if you help her now by leaving."

He moved Ciri aside and led the way to the portal. He took a fracture of a second to focus, and the portal came to life.

"Quick, one of you," he commanded. And when Fringilla approached, he added, "Once there, invoke your own to return to safety immediately. Do not linger. They could be waiting, and you will have less than a moment to flee.

Fringilla nodded and stepped through.

He led Triss through two adjacent lab halls to another portal and activated it.

"If you're lying about it, you'll pay dearly, I swear," she promised before stepping in.

Ciri followed closely behind Avallac'h as if frightened he would up and disappear again. "They have them? Geralt and Kain?"

"I warned you to be careful," he said, walking back to the first room. "I warned you to not use your power, to not be reckless. After the battle at Kaer Morhen, I told you we had to leave this world to lead them away, to save lives, your own included. And no one listened. You did not listen."

"She is doing the best she can," Yennefer retorted, refusing to let the sage talk down to Ciri or make her feel accountable for something that was out of her control. "Unless you can go back and remedy the past, there's nothing Ciri can do about that now. So get to the point. We want answers."

"You've told me a lot of things I am now questioning," Ciri pointed out, sticking to the elf like a leech.

He folded his arms, regarding her. "Have I ever misled you to your demise, Zireael?"

"I know what you did. I know what you tried to make Kain do." She punched his chest again. "I trusted you! I defended you!"

"He wanted to spare you the torment of living on the run," Avallac'h said. "Same as I. I offered him a way at the opportune moment, and he refused it. I did not make him do anything he did not want."

"Trying to coerce one of my loved ones to take my place. You know that would never be alright by me! And you didn't offer him up to Eredin. No, you wanted him. Are you still trying to breed forth a new and better Hen Ichaer child?" Ciri practically spat the words. "Were you always going to return to them? Was that the endgame all along?"

Her bottom lip quivered and she willed him to say no. To assure her that not every moment between the two of them had been nothing but deceit.

"You know I cannot abandon my kin same as you refuse to abandon yours," Avallac'h said. "Eredin has led them astray, and with him gone Aen Elle shall choose their path to restoration. I wish our legacy restored, in the name of Lara and her line. All this is no revelation to you, either." Something in his face softened as he added, "I wished to protect you from the monster Sparrowhawk is and the monsters he has made out of Dearg Ruadhri. It hasn't changed. What's between you and me hasn't changed, Zireael. What happened to Gwyncath here is not my doing."

"Then stop hiding things from me," she urged. "How can I trust you when you disappear for weeks and plot behind my back, Crevan?"

"I had to be away from you to confuse the tracks the best I could. Otherwise, I would have been by your side, as I have always been before."

"You should have told me!" Ciri exclaimed, unwilling to relent. "I was starting to worry they had gotten you, too!"

"I trust you would have known if they had," Avallac'h said. "Your Hen Ichaer would have told you — it is time you learn to use it."

"Is that why I can't feel Geralt anymore? Nor Kain? Because the Hunt has them?"

"You were led here to find out," he said and spread his arms to showcase the room. "Use your senses, Zireael. Seek out the remnants of whatever happened here. You are the only one who can. The magic remaining here blocks my sight. We need yours. Walk around, seek the trace, and where it is the strongest — tell me. I shall assist you. Hen Ichaer in you shall show you the way. Kainarel's life depends on it."

Yennefer had wondered about the two before, but watching them now, the way they interacted with one another, it was almost as if Yen wasn't there at all. It made sense. They'd been reliant on one another for a long time and bonded. Yennefer herself didn't trust the elf, but the way he spoke to Ciri, guided her, made her want to trust that his intentions for her were not malicious.

But then again, elves were elves.

After much internal deliberation, Ciri closed her eyes and lowered her shoulders, trying to center herself and start from a place of neutrality.

Once she'd put her own emotions aside as Avallac'h had taught her during countless meditation sessions, she set her gaze on the room before her, allowing her fingers to touch the various objects she came across as she slowly wandered, reading the energies.

Avallac'h stood aside, arms folding, and followed her every move with his bright, inquisitive aquamarine eyes.

While Ciri patiently pushed and sought the inklings of magic, Yennefer was reminded of when she'd shown Ciri how to seek out energy pockets in the forest. Ciri had grown so much, come such a long way — without her. She smiled softly, sadly, wishing dearly that things were different. That Ciri hadn't been forced to grow up and that she hadn't missed so much of her life. There was still so much about the girl that she was learning, that despite her intense feelings, she still didn't know. It's why the essence from the bog hadn't struggled to overcome her. A thought that made her frown slightly and the sadness dissipate. Now that her head was clearer and she had genuine time for herself—or a moment—she had to wonder if there were still traces of the poison in Ciri's system. Or if she'd managed to clear it away.

Ciri was beginning to worry she couldn't connect with her power the way Avallac'h wanted her to, for none of the objects she touched or the spots she passed felt any different than the next.

But then, suddenly, just as she made a turn and headed in the direction of the empty portal arch, a sensation of pure warmth shot through the very core of her being, leaving her with a distinctly pleasant tingling all over.

She gasped, her head filled with all things Kain.

"Here," she breathed and paused her slow wandering, carefully sinking down in a crouch, one hand resting on the floor in front of her. "Something happened here. To Kain."

Avallac'h approached, his eyes lit with anticipation.

"Very good. Now stand here, try to relax your body, close your eyes and let Hen Ichaer transcend time to show you."

He stood next to her, his hand gently touching her back between the shoulder blades.

Ciri obeyed, hungry for whatever information she could gain from this exercise. Eager to see Kain's face again. It felt as though he had been gone for so long, when it had only been a few days.

Avallac'h closed his eyes as well, focusing to enable and enforce Ciri's senses. It took a bit of effort, but Ciri's yearning for connection drove their joined magic where it needed to reach.

A shiver went through Ciri's spine when the fog finally dissipated in her inner eye and saw Kain as he stepped through the portal and looked around.

---

"Took you quite a while."

At the very instant Kain whirled around to face the man behind, something like a tiny crystal exploded at his feet into a pinch of sand. It seemed to soak into the floor igniting a sophisticated magical circle around Kain's feet. Magic twinkled and sparkled to life, currents of light running in lines and circles and filling elven and runic symbols, emanating a shimmering akin to the Skelligan aurora lights. That shimmering seemed to be penetrating through the soles of Kain's boots and running up through his veins, carried through his body as quickly as blood itself. His Cat medallion vibrated wildly, adding to the intensifying humming of magic filling his body.

Kain looked back up at Caranthir, and as the elf cracked a slow satisfied smile, Kain realized he couldn't move a finger. The energy thrummed in his nerves like the strings of an abused lute, but no muscle obeyed his intentions.

The circle was a trap. A masterful elven trap, sitting on the floor utterly invisible until activated.

"I can see it on your face what you're thinking, Cath Vatt'ghern," Caranthir said, approaching at a languid pace one would use at a gallery while enjoying the paintings around. "Yes, this took me some labor, I must admit. A circle as complicated was difficult to achieve, but it is worth every drop of magic I had wasted while crafting and then perfecting it. Hen Crevan failed to foresee this… He would have been here waiting for me had he known. It means my concealing spell is another success."

His mouth twitched with another smile; he oozed both triumph and confidence.

"And he used to call me arrogant." Caranthir snorted, shaking his head. "His own arrogance led him to lose Lara, fail to rule down that hysterical dh'oine brat, get banished and then cursed to become a wretched ugly munchkin helpless to stop picking his nose with his toes. And now he's lost another of his lab rodents. Or a cat, rather."

Kain squinted insolently. "Is that all a part of your personal vendetta against your foster father to make him regret every time he's spanked your golden arse? I would like to have nothing to do with it."

A brief disparaging grimace crossed Caranthir's beautiful face. "He's not my father, though there was a time he wished to be. Pouring every venomous drop of his ambition into me and swelling with indecent pride whenever parading my successes in front of the old King. Like he had anything to do with what I was capable of and he was not."

"Is he not the reason you exist?" Kain said.

"I could say the same about you."

Kain glared, tightening his teeth not to say anything he would regret later. It was unwise to speak more than listen.

Caranthir gauged him for a few beats, then let out an ironic chuckle. "Oh yeá. He made everyone believe in his unique ability to revive the glory of our people. The truth was, his every promising experiment failed. I keep wondering if Auberon ever knew how little depended on Crevan."

"Yet you are here, Haurwedd."

"As are you, Gwyncath. Ire lokke, ire tedd we could have been brothers."

He watched Kain's face with both amusement and some kind of anticipation as though waiting for a certain reaction. Aside from roiling contempt and anger, Kain sensed the elf was seeking some sort of confirmation, but couldn't decipher what it was about. Unsettling things Caranthir was hinting at were testing the limits of Kain's composure. It took efforts to keep his mind from running wild chasing the insinuations. And the worst of all: Kain felt no intention of deceit from him. Caranthir was certain of every word passing his lips.

"Essea dh'oine," Kain uttered through gritted teeth. "Essea Vatt'ghern. Esseath Aen Elle."

A smile of bitter scorn creased Caranthir's mouth. "Yeá. Ui Hen Ichaer."

Kain slowly shook his head. "It does not make me what it should. Mayhaps it's what I'm not, after all."

"Would have made your life simpler, were it so."

Caranthir pondered a second and chuckled as though reminiscing.

"The brat was no good when Crevan dragged her to our doorstep. The only use for her was a walking womb. A box to be discarded after the gift was unwrapped. Something happened to make her what she is. It was not Crevan's doing."

"What do you mean by that?"

"She could not leap when she came to Tir ná Lia. The only solution for Crevan was to entice her to bear Aen Elle wedd with Auberon. He dressed her, showered her with perfume, braided her shaggy hair, making believe she was not a dirty dh'oine brat but—"

He set his jaw, muscles in his cheeks bulging. He huffed out a sigh, composing himself, even mustering a scoff of fake amusement.

"Imagine the blow to his pride when that lost seed he nurtured became no more than a snotty useless brat she was all along, with eyes of Lara mocking him from her dh'oine muzzle. Yeá, Crevan had already lost his touch then, for he did not even know you existed. Aen Saevherne misled by a dh'oine druid daerienn. He could never believe such a thing, otherwise, he'd have found you both. That proved his flaws to me, and I attempted the same. Now all of this is solely between you and me. Our secret he'd die to learn."

"What do you know?"

He sneered. "I know a lot. Wish I found out sooner, but tracking Aen Saevherne takes effort. Foxes hide well. I learned a trick or two since he left. Apparently, so have you. You wouldn't have understood Tor Zireael otherwise. You wouldn't have known about his flute."

A spark of cold zapped through Kain. "What?"

The young elf enjoyed the battle of recognition and denial on Kain's face. "You knew he met the brat playing his flute. You knew what he said to her. You knew where to look for me. Because you…" He frowned momentarily, searching for the right term. "You came to know it. Same way I found his burrow."

They stared at each other for a silent moment; Kain's mind was spinning in search of translation for what it meant. The answer felt so close, but a hair out of reach.

Then he went with, "Everyone possesses intuition."

"Hen Ichaer led you, not intuition. Had you been to Crevan's secret burrow, you would understand," Caranthir added. "Your blood to bind the spell," he gestured to the trap, "I took from Crevan's lair. Too little he had, but even one drop is enough."

Kain thought of Yennefer's anchor Avallac'h had stolen his blood from. He thought of the secret lab hidden in Skellige Ciri had told him about; he thought of all possible secrets hidden there. Secrets Caranthir had unraveled. Or thought he had.

"No Hen Ichaer belongs to Tir ná Béa Arainne," Caranthir said, his eyes narrowing coldly. "That has to end with you. Crevan failed our people. I shall make it right."

"Whatever you found there is not what you think," Kain said, dismayed at the undertone of despair in his voice that scarcely escaped the elf's attention. "You're confused. He might've known you'd come prying someday, and he's always prepared."

Caranthir smirked, and shrugged. "I do not blame you for denying your connection to Crevan. Moreover, I shall aid you to eradicate it. I shall cleanse you of his trace and give your life back. A vatt'ghern life. With your brother. If you survive."

"Where is Gwynbleidd?"

"Waiting for this hunt to be over. He can be free as soon as we get our prize. What Crevan has failed to deliver before, I shall return to us."

"Take me in her stead," Kain offered, approaching regret for rejecting Avallac'h's offer when it mattered. Would it have been better than this mess? Probably.

Fealinn was right assuming Avallac'h indeed had been offering the best solution. Now it was too late.

Caranthir clucked his tongue. "The damned brat can leap. Besides, she owes Eredin a little debt. She has to pay." He stepped closer, the tips of his boots a hair short of the shimmering circle trap, his eyes so close to Ciri's in color locked on Kain's. "She's always belonged to us. And you belong with your ilk."

His tall staff topped with a huge blue crystal materialized in his hand; he pointed it behind Kain, the crystal blazed with power. A flash of light flicked against the walls and floors around as a portal opened, and someone walked out. The portal closed, and the footfalls began to approach, slowly.

A jolt of liquid cold shot through Kain's spine. He couldn't turn his head to look, but his every nerve ending recognized the stroll, the scent, the energetic signature he could never confuse with anyone else's.

Impossible… impossible…

A sense of reality wobbling around him settled over Kain, the image of Caranthir blurring slightly like a mirage. And the figure behind came nearer, on those quiet, cat feet. A hand snaked across his chest, fingers sneaking between the lapels of his jerkin to tease his skin and settle over the Cat medallion against his chest.

"I came to your rescue, Cath," she whispered into his ear, her breath tickling. He sensed the slow smile claiming her lips. "I'll save you from your illusions, just like I thought I'd have to. I always knew I'd have to one day. The day has come."

She nuzzled into his neck, inhaling deeply; her tongue darted out for one teasing lick before she faced him to lock her yellow-green cat eyes with his flabbergasted hazel ones. She smiled, the satisfied Feline etched into his memory.

"Zar'kin," slipped his tongue in a whisper. His heart was thrashing in his chest, making it hard to think.

She appraised him with a content mien. "You haven't changed at all since that bloody day." She raised a hand to stroke her fingers across his cheek. "You've strayed from our Path, Cath. Like I knew you would. But I'll set you right. Because you're mine. You've always been mine. We will have so much fun together."

Kain frowned, making an effort to clear the fog in his head, his eyes flicking between them. "You're with Aen Elle? Since when?"
"Aw what does it matter?" she swatted a hand with a scowl of boredom. "We witchers are neutral, are we not?" She laughed. "We do what we have to do. As you have in Brokilon. We all have. But we always stand by our own."

"This is all very sweet," Caranthir interfered, grimacing, "but we have places to be." He snatched a crystal vial from the nearest table, blew the dust off it, and tossed it to Zar'kin. "Fill it."

She caught it and produced her hunting knife, turning to Kain. "I'll be gentle," she winked, pulling up his sleeve while he set his jaw, helpless to stop her. Holding his eyes with hers, she slid the tip of the blade down from the inside of his elbow, pressed the vial to his arm to collect the blood. When it was full, she corked it and tossed it back to the elf.

Smiling impishly at Kain, she dragged a finger up his forearm, swiping the blood, and brought it to his mouth, sucking. She produced her knife again and hit it with the Igni sign, then quickly pressed the hot blade to the cut, making Kain hiss. Her sneer widened; she sheathed the knife and yanked his sleeve back down.

"Good enough for now," she said, and pulled the lapels of his jerkin apart, bearing his chest. She relieved him of the Cat medallion and hid it in her pocket. "I'll save it for when you need it back."

Caranthir held out his hand with something in it. What looked like a small crystal ball, no bigger than a hazelnut, rose up over his palm, beginning to gleam. It hung in the air, inch-long spikes growing slowly out of it.

"I've perfected the ice-vice spell with a drop of your blood and the essence of a certain narcotic found in this foul world of yours." He admired the crystal spike ball spinning slowly over his palm and gave Kain a malicious smirk. "You use blood magic. Now I'll show you how it feels to be its slave. It's a learning curve. You can thank me later."

Guided by his hand, the spiky ball floated towards Kain, turning slowly as it did, its spikes glistening with magic. It leveled with Kain's chest, slowing a tad before it began to transcend his skin and bone as though its density was a mere illusion.

The pain, however, was not. And as it gradually sunk deeper, Kain couldn't hold the grunts and groans, his teeth grinding. It stung and burned and ached, sending its combers of throes through his nerves and muscles, as if the essence of the Frost itself was nestling deeper in his chest right next to his heart that thrashed like a caught bird. When the star disappeared in Kain's body, there was not a trace left outside, but inside every cell and sinew was trembling in violent strain. Kain felt he would have fallen down if the circle trap weren't keeping him still. Cold sweat beaded on his temples, his vision was blurry and darkening, and his breath caught in the base of his throat, bursting out in gasps and wheezes. A memory of the pain from the freezing spell back from the Oxenfurt battle flashed in his mind, but this was so much more intense and devastating that it wiped his mind clean of anything else but trying to withstand the agony.

"The more you fight it, the more it hurts," Caranthir's voice reached him from very far away, as though through the sloshing of stormy waves commanding his hearing.

In the back of his mind, Kain was aware of a painful jolt that went through his body from the soles of his feet — the trap spell soaking into him, probably enforcing the damned ice star pulsating in his chest like a second heart that tried to kill him.

Something flashed and hummed — a portal opened. Kain felt their hands on him, tugging, pulling, dragging. He could hardly control his legs and his vision was a macabre dance of colorful blotches.

Eventually, everything began to drown in the blizzard that kept howling and biting him from within.

---

Ciri shrunk away from Avallac'h's touch, her body and mind temporarily overwhelmed by the vision that had ravaged them. There was too much to process all at once, so many small nuances that needed addressing and questioning. But the most important of them all slipped from her lips as soon as she could find her voice. Mostly for Yennefer's benefit.

"Caranthir took him."

Avallac'h stepped away from her. His face was hard to read, but even through the mask of calm gleamed wariness.

Yennefer moved from the sidelines, settling her hand on Ciri's forearm, rubbing lightly as she attempted to soothe her. The energy coming off Ciri in waves was distress. "Why? Why would he do that?"

"He wants him out of the way." Ciri threw a glare Avallac'h's way. "Mostly to anger his dear old absent father. All my fault, huh?"

"Does it surprise you that he's angered with my choice to protect you?" Avallac'h said, once again calm and composed. "Caranthir strives to gain Eredin's admiration. He wants to remain the Golden Child he was once called by our people."

"It doesn't surprise me in the least. However, I am tired of taking the blame for everything that has happened over the past few years. This misery in our worlds was not solely created by me," Ciri hissed, rubbing her temples to alleviate a throbbing headache. "How would Caranthir have met the girl? The Cat witcher?"

"Scoia'tael connections," Avallac'h said. "Caranthir and Dearg Ruadhri are no strangers to Brokilon and Aen Seidhe rebels. And she knows Gwyncath from their Witcher School. She's been keeping track of his life."

"Apparently," Ciri murmured. "Well, you know Caranthir best, Avallac'h. Where would he have taken Kain? And they mentioned Geralt. Said he was finishing his hunt. Does that mean he is with Eredin?"

Geralt popped into Yennefer's mind's eye. The last time he'd been dragged away by the Hunt because of her. And this time?

Yennefer shuddered, rubbing at her arms as a chill crept up her spine. She hated to think of the horrors he was going through, suddenly desperate to get to him, to drag him back. If only they hadn't wasted time. If only Yennefer hadn't been weak.

"Gwynbleidd is no longer in their hands," Avallac'h said. "I intercepted him after his visit to Brokilon where he had set a trap for Kainarel. I had no time to alert you. And Kainarel made this rush move before I could have prevented it." Avallac'h scowled and shook his head slowly. "His ability to keep composure seems to have waned upon having spent time with you, Zireael. This sort of impatience I could have expected from you under usual circumstances."

Ciri glared. "That's unnecessarily rude," she pointed out, her fear and dread waning somewhat at hearing Geralt was alright. "Did they harm him? Geralt? Where is he? Take us to him!"

"I have revealed myself by acting that boldly. I had no time to remedy the spell he was under, and all I could do quickly was hide him away, like I had done with you upon the curse that befell me. You will have to find him on your own, Zireael. I shall teach you how. But right now we have no time left to linger. We need to get out of here." He glanced from Ciri to Yennefer. "Same as the sorceresses did — in different directions. I shall attempt to confuse the trail while you, Zireael, find your witcher."

"Where will I go?" Ciri asked, taking Yennefer's hand and ushering her towards the portal as well. "Where will Yen go?"

"I will not voice it here – we have to be wiser, and this is not a safe place."

Avallac'h closed his eyes and activated the portal. Then met Yennefer's violet stare.

"Find Zireael where she was saying goodbye to you as a child," he said. "Your heart remembers. Now go."

Yennefer squeezed Ciri's hand, not wanting to let go, not wanting to be parted from her as a means of travel again when things were so dire and they had no idea what was waiting for them on the other side. Yennefer was scared. Not only for herself, but for Ciri and Geralt, too. Perhaps even Kain.

She gave a nod, forcing her fingers to unfurl from Ciri's, giving one last warning glance to Avallac'h.

"I'll find you," she promised Ciri, and then she was gone.

Avallac'h led Ciri to another portal, which took them to a dark place Ciri mistook for a cave at first. As her eyes began to adjust, she recognized the surroundings.

Tor Zireael.

With her hand held tight by his, she followed him as they jogged through the endless corridors and took many turns. She couldn't remember that path to save her life, she realized with a bit of trepidation. She hoped to all gods and heavens she didn't have to ever be seeking a way out of this place on her own. It was a hopeless affair, she knew for certain now.

The memory of what Fealinn told her about Avallac'h and Kain came to mind like an unbidden shadow.

"Ciri can't get out of the Tower on her own - you know that, too, don't you?"

"When exhausted, she would fall asleep, much like the effect of the spell I had to put her under to hide her safely from Eredin. She can remain there in her peaceful slumber for as long as she needs to. Until she is discovered."

There was a dim shining ahead — it was all Ciri glimpsed before Avallac'h jerked her forward by her hand, and there was a brief swirl of colors, then a breath of cold air penetrated her lungs and skin. Skellige winds were gaining a bite, preparing for winter to come.

They did not linger, and the next moment she heard the Sage whisper something under his breath… A spell?

The air within the portal arc distorted, but there was no shining nor humming as with a portal Ciri was accustomed to. There was, however, a faint disturbance she felt from it, the way the air gets before lightning crosses the sky.

Avallac'h went to it, pulling her with.

The place where they appeared next seemed like a cave, but there was no ceiling to see, and the floors were paved with marble tiles. Light blue and green fungi were hanging from above on strings, illuminating the place with a ghostly glow. Ciri looked around and saw statues in different poses, on different pedestals. And a bit ahead of her within an ornamental pergola, there was a marble pedestal carved as a bed, and upon it was a statue of an elven woman with long flowing hair. She half lay on the stony sheets, her hand reaching for someone invisible beside her, as though she was forever beholding someone meant for her eyes alone. Around her floated tiny glowing fireflies of magic light.

"Lara," Ciri whispered, taking a break from the urgency Avallac'h had installed in her to admire the statue before them. It was probably the closest she'd ever be to the real thing – her Aen Elle ancestor who had started this whole mess.

Ciri frowned, suddenly worried. "Are we in Tir ná Lia?"

"Tir ná Béa Arainne," he said quietly, his eyes unable to tear from the marble face. "We are beneath Mount Gorgon."

"It is a cemetery," Ciri recognized, a vague memory of something Geralt had once told her about him and Avallac'h stirring. "Is this where you have been hiding?"

"I do not remain anywhere for long. Eredin's Riders are hot on my trail. Caranthir is making progress with his magic, driven by anger and impatience."

"He said some odd things in that vision," Ciri stated, moving closer to the Lara statue. "Made quite a few references to how his and Kain's creation had similarities." She shot a glance at him over her shoulder, breath shaking. "Did you have anything to do with Kain's conception?"

"You are no longer in a hurry to find Gwynbleidd?" Avallac'h inquired.

"Of course I am. But I reckon this is the last chance I'll have to ask you these important questions. At least for a while. So, please, confirm or deny."

"You should not perceive what Caranthir says as the final truth. Kainarel was right - Caranthir only thinks he understands everything."

"And yet you seem incapable of answering my question," Ciri pointed out. "All it requires is a simple yes or no."

"If it were my work, Caranthir and Kainarel would have been brothers. They are not. That ends this pointless discussion."

It didn't end the discussion in the least for Ciri but she worried aggravating the elf would make him go back on his promise to help Geralt.

"How do I find Geralt? Show me."

"Gwynbleidd was under their spell when I reached him. I had no opportunity to remedy it and put him to sleep instead. I could not hide him anywhere on such short notice, nor follow, but I enchanted a boat to take him across Loch Eskalott."

Sage held out a palm to her, a crystal on it. "Use this to locate an enchanted lantern I hid by the lake," he instructed. "Put it inside, and take a boat. This lantern shall guide you to Gwynbleidd. And this," he produced a vial from some hidden pocket in his robe, "you shall give him to drink to wake him. Make sure he drinks it all — it's your best hope to restore his memory."

Ciri examined both items before tucking them away in her pocket. "He's on the Isle of Avalon," she surmised, recognizing the name of the lake.

"When I find him, how will I bring him anywhere without alerting the Hunt to our location?"

"Bring him to the shore with your power," he said. "And I will assist you then." He stepped closer to her, his expression softening. "Despite your mistrust, I'm willing to protect you the best I can, Zireael. Nothing's changed."

She hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you for keeping him safe. I will see you very soon then."

Avallac'h nodded. "Alas, I couldn't help Kainarel in time. He made a rash move before I could get to him."

"We will get him back," Ciri said. "I am not leaving him in the care of that cat bitch."

"Caranthir put a lot of effort to hide their location. And time is short."

"I know. But judging by what he said in that vision, there is someone we can use as bait," Ciri said, referring to herself. "However, Geralt first. Will there be a portal to the loch?"

"You are not to be putting yourself in danger. If they get you now, all we have worked for, all years spent on the run are in vain. Everyone's sacrifices are in vain. You have to stay safe. We will find him by other means."

"Let's fetch Geralt first and then we can argue later," Ciri said, growing impatient now the Witcher was so close to getting his freedom back.

Avallac'h pinched his lips but nodded curtly and took her hand to guide her out of the tomb.

---

The grass on the embankment of Loch Eskalott was wet as Ciri stepped towards the water, the condensation from the thick fog that enveloped all clinging to each blade like a second skin.

It was near impossible to see further than a few feet ahead, so Ciri moved slowly with the crystal in her hand, careful not to slip and fall into the lake that awaited.

She had to wander the shoreline for a few minutes before she heard the water stir beside her and as she turned to face the lake fully with the crystal held aloft, an empty wooden boat gently bumped against the bank.

She climbed aboard and tentatively took a seat on the wooden plank that stretched the width of the boat, the only real seat available. Her fingers fumbled on the floor until they found the lantern Avallac'h had promised her. Once the crystal was safely installed, it emitted a pale blue light and the boat jerked forward as if someone had given it a push from behind.

Ciri held her breath as she glided through the fog, one hand firmly curled around the lantern's handle. Even with its light and ability to clear the mist around her, it was not enough to see far ahead and patience was needed until, finally, a shape came into view.

Another boat. Very similar to Ciri's.

They gently bumped against one another and Ciri scrambled to take a hold of the new one lest they be parted again.

Her heart caught in her chest once she saw him. "Geralt." His unconscious form slowly came into view. He looked so pale and impossibly still, Ciri worried he might be dead.

She hurried to shift herself from one boat to the other, setting the lantern on the floor of Geralt's boat as she awkwardly moved to kneel at his head.

He was heavy and cold to the touch, which only deepened Ciri's concern about his wellbeing as she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close enough for his head to rest atop her legs. Her fingers went to his throat, searching for a pulse. Though she had been in the claws of this sleeping spell herself, she could not remember what it felt like.

Was he in pain? Was he supposed to look like a corpse? Because truly, he did. It was a face she had seen before in her many nightmares. White and void of emotion, void of… everything.

What if something had gone wrong? What if the chill temperatures of this strange place had settled in his bones, stolen his warmth, and stopped his heart?

"Geralt, can you hear me?" she called to him, even knowing there was no use yet.

She stroked his scarred face and moved a few strands of white hair off his closed eyes and nose, retrieving the little vial from her pocket. With one hand parting Geralt's lips and the other maneuvering the vial, she gently poured its contents into his mouth, careful not to let anything spill.

"Geralt?" Cupping his cheeks once the empty vial was discarded, Ciri desperately searched his face for any sign of movement, for any sign of life at all. The seconds ticked by slowly. Ciri's eyes welled with tears. "Geralt, please!"

She lowered herself over him, pressing her cheek to his as if she could transfer her own life force into him, her tears spilling onto them both.

"Please wake up, Geralt! Please!"

A subtle shiver ran through Geralt's body, and after a few beats, Ciri felt a whiff of his breath against her neck, warmer than the damp cold air around them.

She pulled back to look at him, inhaling sharply in anticipation. "Geralt?"

A sort of weak grunt escaped the Witcher, then a moan. He trembled once again and tried to open his eyes, wincing. Every movement was hard, as though he had not been using his joints in decades.

Ciri's hands cupped his cheeks, her heart pounding wildly in excitement at his response to her touch and voice. "It's alright. You're alright, Geralt." He had to be.

He tried to move - bring his hands to rub his eyes, but winced, grunting. He tried to open his eyes, squinting, and saw a blurry silhouette surrounded by milky mist. His head felt just as rusty as the rest of his body, his heart slower than usual. Geralt was cold, and another shiver ran through his muscles.

Her hands found his and she concentrated to draw warmth from the nature surrounding them, to push it into Geralt and help thaw him of the worst cold. She wasn't certain if she should take him straight to Yennefer, worried he wouldn't take to the traveling well until he was more… himself.

"Geralt, can you hear me?"

He groaned again, trying to move - something was digging painfully into his back.

"Ci— ... Ciri... What..."

"Yes, it's me." She was frowning, still worried. It seemed to take him longer to come out of his haze than it had her. Then again, she had not been under the influence of The Hunt's magic. "Are you in pain?"

He hummed, processing her question, then shifted into more of a sitting position. He looked around, dazed, and saw no more than fog. It was a boat they sat in, and he could smell lake water.

"Where are we?" he asked, rubbing his neck. "What happened?"

"Loch Eskalott," Ciri told him, hands hovering precariously over his back in case he should lose his balance. "I promise to tell you everything, but right now I need to get you to Yennefer. The Hunt is on our trail."

Geralt scooped some water overboard and splashed it in his face, trying to get his wits together.

"What actually happened, Ciri? I was with Kain and Shani... Where are they? Why am I... where did you say we are? By Rivia, is it?"

"Shani is fine. Kain is not," Ciri said. "The Hunt got to both of you. You've been gone for weeks. But Geralt..." She held out her hands for him. "We have to go. We can talk later."

Geralt was staring at her, his cat-like elongated pupils dilating in the poor light of the lantern and dying daylight.

"Weeks? How did Kain— What the hells is going on, Ciri? What happened?"

Ciri sighed and gave him, retelling everything of importance that had been going on as quickly as she could to let him make sense of the situation.

"I'm just so glad I found you. I was scared."

Geralt couldn't talk for a while, trying to keep track of all the numerous pieces of the informational puzzle that refused to come together in his groggy head.

He rubbed his face, feeling helplessly confused.

"It's like I'm in the strangest dream and it's never-ending," he muttered. "Impossible to believe." He looked at her sharply. "You're truly staying at Vizima castle? With Yennefer? And Emhyr is helping you?"

"Yes, well, they brought her there while Kain and I were trapped in the Tower. We didn't have much of a say," Ciri explained, trying to rub some warmth into Geralt's hands and fingers.

Geralt chuckled with exaggerated irony. "You? Had no say upon returning, either? I don't believe it. Seems like you'll have to indulge me with a long talk, for I struggle with this new world I woke up in."

He sat a bit straighter, still wincing at how stiff his muscles felt, and took a good look at what was digging into his thighs and back. He discovered his swords with their belts wrapped around their scabbards and two saddlebags. Inside were herbs and a few vials with concoctions. He thought of Roach longingly. He hoped she was still well, but where - he had a vague idea. Perhaps at the Oxenfurt stables?

Not important. Not for now, at least.

"What is your plan?" he asked, untangling the swords to strap them on his back. "Take us to Vizima? I'd rather pick Novigrad."

"I'm taking you to Yennefer. She should be somewhere on the shore up ahead. She'll get you home. I need to jump a bit further to confuse the Hunt," Ciri said, dutifully waiting for him to get himself ready.

He scowled. "Playing with the Hunt like that is dangerous. If you keep teasing them, that sage of yours will drag you away to another world again."

"It was his idea," Ciri pointed out. "And I see it less like playing, and more like running for my life."

"Ciri," he looked wearily, "if we cannot protect you here in the world you belong, it means we fail. I fail. I want to do anything in my power so you won't have to run. When we - or you - met Kain, I was beginning to think we can succeed. That we can finally be a true family that wouldn't part ever again."

"I know. I was hoping that too," Ciri admitted. "But for now that still requires some distractions, so we don't lead the Hunt back to the cities where innocent people are at risk."

Ciri took his hand, squeezing. "It will be fine. Are you ready? Yennefer is waiting."

---

Twilight was thickening around Loch Eskalott, and the veil of fog was coiling around the empty boats rocking gently, waiting for the fishermen that would come at dawn.

Yennefer had been pacing for a while, rubbing her shoulders against the autumn evening chill, worrying that she had picked the wrong place and not at all what Sage meant.

Something flashed green in her side vision, and a thrill of anticipation combed through her nerves as she turned around, seeking out two familiar silhouettes.

They were approaching, Ciri's arm wrapped around Geralt's waist. He seemed to have a bit of difficulty walking, his free hand clutching saddlebags to his chest, and two sword handles gleamed behind his shoulder.

The same relief Yennefer had felt seeing Ciri for the first time after years of looking for her, charged through her veins at the sight of Geralt at Ciri's side. The tension and chill evaporated from her body as she moved toward the two, closing the distance at such a pace that she had practically slammed into them – luckily not hard enough to knock them all down.

"How did you find him?"

"Avallac'h," Ciri said, deciding it would have to be enough of an explanation for the time being.

She shifted Geralt's weight onto Yennefer's shoulder.

"You both need to get out of here. Now."

"You should come with us," Geralt said. "We can't just leave you here - to disappear ag—"

A cloud of glittery cold slammed into them like a fist made of ice, sending them flying back. They hit the ground hard, rolling, and the pain from the impact fused with the stinging bite of frost creeping through their veins.

Geralt grunted, his vision darkening. He gnashed his teeth, trying to get back on his feet and see where Ciri and Yennefer landed.

Ahead, he saw a tall figure in dark armor with a blood-red cape flying behind him and a staff crowned with a huge glowing jewel in his hand. The blue light within it was pulsing; Caranthir was aiming it at them again, a pack of hounds were snarling at his feet, preparing to attack. Frost crawled across the ground, and blades of grass were shattering under Caranthir's feet like glass decorations.

"Get out of here!" Ciri called to Yennefer and Geralt as she scrambled to her feet, trying to catch her breath after having it knocked from her lungs.

She moved in a flash of green, there one moment and gone the next, her small form appearing out of nowhere and slamming into Caranthir from the side. The force behind her jump toppled them both and had the hounds pause in brief confusion.

Caranthir growled a command, getting to his feet with more agility than one could expect from such heavy armor. The hounds howled and launched themselves at Ciri before she could get up.

Yennefer tore her gaze off the colliding bodies, gasping as a biting chill shot through her - because of the magic and her fear. She did not want to leave Ciri behind.

"Don't leave me yet," Yennefer demanded once she managed to scramble to Geralt's side, helping the Witcher to his feet, shaking free the pain from one of her hands to summon her portal. "Take a breath!"

Obeying the motion of her fingers, a flash of gold appeared, and she guided him toward it as fast as she could, her gaze on Ciri the entire time, hoping that she'd catch up to them or escape herself.

Ciri was amidst the hounds snapping and grabbing at her limbs. Caranthir stepped between her and Yennefer's portal, chanting a spell as his staff flashed with growing magic. He directed it at the portal and another wave of ice smashed into it, snapping it closed.

The heavy beasts weighed Ciri down, pushing her to the frozen ground beneath her. A set of sharp teeth caught onto her left arm and Ciri cried out in pain, her panicked mind making her leap once more in a desperate attempt to free herself from the hound's merciless jaws.

The hounds came with as she teleported directly into the lake, the offending biter only releasing her once it felt the water and they all started sinking. Down below there was only cold darkness and no amount of flailing would bring either Ciri or the hounds to the surface.

However, when Ciri did reappear back on land, dripping wet and bleeding profusely from her arm, she was alone.

A bunch of ice spikes snapped up from the ground around her, catching her in the leg and already wounded arm. A new group of hounds ran towards her, their spines bristling, their muzzles drooling.

Caranthir was behind them, his staff glowing brighter, and three Hunt Riders galloped around him and after the hounds, crossbows in their hands instead of swords, all aiming at Ciri.

Before she caught her breath, the hounds were upon her, and one of the bolts jolted through her shoulder as she fell, sending the frost poison through her blood.

She tried to scream but the hound currently pressing down on her chest prevented her from uttering a single sound. They tore at her as if she was a ragdoll, teeth scraping and ripping at her clothing, some catching skin.

Ciri's view was completely blocked by the snarling beasts but she could picture Caranthir grinning beneath his ugly helmet and even now it infuriated her.

The Riders were getting off their horses to get Ciri when a whirlwind suddenly whooshed through, throwing them apart like chess figures.

Another wave - and the hounds tumbled off Ciri.

Something snapped around her wrist, yanking her up painfully. She glimpsed a hooded figure.

"Leap, Zireael," Avallac'h commanded. "Now! Two worlds and back!"

He threw her up, and after a long moment of falling, she landed in the lake with a big splash. Water swallowed her before she caught her breath, and dragged her down into the black cold. The surface above reflected the flashes of magic from the battle on the shore.

Disoriented and unable to breathe, it took Ciri another few moments before Avallac'h's words registered.

She found herself on her hands and knees atop a pile of rubbish, the sun beating down on her so mercilessly that the shock from going from ice to heat nearly made her pass out.

She inhaled deeply and immediately regretted choosing the World of Waste as she had so lovingly nicknamed it as her first stop. The stench was horrendous. It was why she enjoyed forcing the Hunt to search for her there as often as possible.

After a brief moment that was much needed to collect herself, she jumped through space again, this time landing in a world she had resided in before. A world where chivalrous knights were in abundance and would at the very least give the Hunt a hard time should they choose to follow.

The next and final stop was Vizima. She collapsed outside the stables in a bleeding heap, face down on the dirt floor. She'd been aiming for her bedroom.

---

After the nauseating tumble of the portal, Geralt fell and rolled across the ground. He lay still for a moment, dazed and registering about a dozen new sources of pain throughout his body. The acute smells of forest soil hit him like a hammer. Grunting, he slowly found his feet and made a few unstable steps to pick up the saddlebags. He checked the concoctions inside and was glad to find just one of the vials broken. The other three survived the fall.

"Damn portals," the Witcher grumbled, throwing the saddlebags onto his shoulder.

As far as he could judge, he was indeed in some forest. There was a clearing ahead, and in that direction, he began to walk.

There was a city ahead; he recognized the outlines of Vizima - within half a mile, Geralt estimated. He nearly reached the road when a flash of gold blinded him and Yennefer bumped into him, sending him a couple of steps back.

She was wet, her hair clung to her narrow face, her eyes wide and stunned. She clung to him in a clumsy embrace, catching her breath.

"Landed in a ditch outside the walls," she muttered against his neck while he held her. "That elf mage blasted my portal."

"We're incredibly lucky to be in one piece right now," Geralt stated, inhaling her scent heavily mixed with that of a swamp. "Damn portals."

He leaned back, staring at Yennefer, his eyes alight with fear.

"Ciri? You seen her?"

Yennefer had wanted to make another quip about not thinking that the portal had anything to do with what happened. This mess was solely on the Wild Hunt, but instead, her attention shifted from Geralt in search of the area around them. She checked every space she could, every lump on the ground, behind every rock, hopeful she'd see a nest of blond hair.

Nothing.

Did Ciri get away in time?

"I... I am sure Ciri will catch up to us soon enough. She always does. Can you walk?"

"A bit slower than I'd like," he said, looking around in search of Ciri. Deep down, however, he wasn't sure she made it in time.

He felt so out of place and so useless that it hurt him physically as if some giant hand was squeezing his lungs.

"We need to get there quicker. I need to know she's there. I have to know it, Yen."

---

Morvran lowered Ciri onto her bed where he carried her in his arms. "Don't move, the bleeding is pretty bad."

"Oh gods, m'lord..." Jagna muttered from behind him, her face creased with terror. Fringilla was beside her, holding a handful of vials.

Ciri's shirt was torn to rags and soaked in blood. The wounds in her arm and shoulder were the worst; a crossbow bolt was sticking from under her collarbone.

"This needs to come out," Morvran said, giving Ciri a sympathetic look. "I'll make it quick but it's going to hurt like hell."

"G'ralt..." she murmured incoherently, her eyes struggling to focus on one particular face. "I need him..."

Morvran and Fringilla exchanged glances, then Voorhis gestured for the sorceress to get closer. Fringilla deposited her vials on the bedside table and winced as she got a better look at the state Ciri was in.

"Seems like the hounds got to her," she said.

"And the Riders," Morvran added, pointing to the bolt.

He nodded at Fringilla, and she put a light restraining spell on Ciri.

"Bear with us just a moment, Ciri," she said.

Morvran wrapped his hand around the bolt firmly and yanked. Fringilla released the spell and pressed a tissue to the wound while Morvran held her.

Ciri yelped loudly, her brow pinched in annoyance, eyes still struggling to settle on either of them. "Stupid blond whoreson... stupid wand bearer... hate him."

"All right," Morvran said, sparing the bolt an assessing look before setting it aside. "We'll take care of that whoreson later."

Jagna and Fringilla began to carefully free Ciri of her ripped shirt, cutting it off her to not hurt her more.

"Lay still," Fringilla said, holding her hands over Ciri. "I shall help."

She focused, magic concentrated on her fingertips, her lips moved with a whispered spell. Jagna stood back, watching with wide eyes full of wonder, how the scratches and cuts on Ciri's skin began to close.

Fringilla sat on the edge of the bed, resting.

"Something is wrong," Morvran said, alerting her.

The gashes on Ciri's skin were opening again, and there were little spiky flakes of frost catching the blood and turning red. Ciri was shivering, her lips were turning blue.

"This must be their frost magic," Fringilla said, puzzled. "There has to be a way to remedy it. I shall advise other mages."

"Jagna, bring more blankets," Morvran said, sitting closer to keep Ciri in his arms for warmth meanwhile.

Jagna dashed for the door, nearly running into Triss who rushed into the room.

"Oh dear heavens, what happened to her?!"

Fringilla gestured for Triss to be quiet and pulled the bed cover over the girl.

"What happened to you, Ciri?" she asked. "What happened after Sage sent us away?"

"And where is Yennefer?" Triss asked. "She swore she'd stay with you!"

Their words fell on deaf ears. Ciri's mind was in a world of its own. "I'll beat him next time… not stronger than me… cheated… ugly brat…" She laughed, delirious. "Caranthir…"

"Caranthir?" Triss asked. "That navigator mage? He did this?"

"If he's a navigator, he could have brought in more," Morvran said, holding Ciri closer, all wrapped in the blanket. "She's freezing. Can't you do anything?"

"It's dangerous to try out spells at random," Fringilla said. "No way to predict what reaction will follow."

"I can try something simpler," Triss said and knelt in front of Ciri's bed. She put her hands on Ciri's shoulders and murmured a spell. Warmth concentrated in her palms, then flowed into Ciri.

"Doesn't help much," Fringilla said, observing. "But nothing else we can do until we find how to neutralize what Caranthir did."

"Whatever you can do — do it faster," Morvran said. "She can't die."

"Where are they?" Ciri stirred in Morvran's arms, her words slurred but mostly understandable again. "Save them..."

There was a sudden flash of green, weaker and fainter than when Ciri would teleport. But she jerked in General's hold as if she had attempted to leap and her power failed her. "Geralt's cold..."

"Hold still, Princess," Morvran said against her temple, his arms firmly around her and yet gentle enough to not hurt her needlessly. "We'll help them. It's going to be fine. Just rest, you hear me? We'll take care of everything."

Triss and Fringilla looked at each other, flabbergasted, but neither dared voice any questions not to disturb Ciri.

Fringilla nodded at Morvran and Triss, and walked out, past Jagna who brought more blankets.

Time passed and Ciri had no comprehension of the moments ticking away. She was still trapped in the lake, submerged in icy dark, struggling to keep her head above the water. There was nothing to hold onto and she was so tired...

Somewhere up above, Morvran's face came in and out of focus. She didn't have time to question how he had gotten here. She was just glad he was.

"I think I'm dying..." A whisper. Shuddering with a jagged breath across her lips. "Is it time to go? Can I rest now? Can I finally rest?"

"You should rest, Cirilla," Voorhis said. "Just hold on a bit longer, do me this favor."

"Not good," Triss said, casting a look his way, and in her blue eyes he saw fear.

"She's so cold," Jagna muttered, rubbing Ciri's hand before placing it under blankets.

Ciri's eyes fell shut once more, but her body never ceased shaking, her limbs growing whiter and stiffer by the minute.

---

As Yennefer and Geralt stumbled into the castle past the surprised guards, Fringilla hurried to meet them. She froze in her tracks gaping when she saw Geralt, a slow smile blooming on her face. "By the Great Sun! Geralt! Where have you been?! Yennefer! Are you all right?"

"A bit stiff, but it should pass," Geralt said, withdrawing his arm from around Yennefer's shoulders to stand on his own. "Is Ciri back?"

"Oh yes, and she's hurt. It's a frost spell, we can't heal her."

The Witcher's face clouded. "Lead us to her now."

He forgot his rusty joints and his agility was close to natural as he hurried after Vigo with Yennefer by his side. He dropped his saddlebags at the door as they approached Ciri's bed.

"Oh gods, Geralt!" Triss jumped to her feet, nearly stumbling. Joy and anxiety battled to claim her expression. "Thank gods you're alive! Ciri—"

"Yes, I know."

He knelt at her side and cast a brief questioning glance at Voorhis - who shook his head curtly as if saying 'not now' - then focused on Ciri. Yennefer was next to him, her hands seeking out Ciri's to rub them between her palms in a meek attempt to warm them.

"Too cold," she lamented, terror growing inside her chest like a tightening vice.

"Ciri?" Geralt took Ciri's face in his hands, trying to wake her. The wounds on her torso and arms looked horrible, but he made an impossible effort to ignore the scary sight. "Ciri, you hear me? Ciri?"

Ciri briefly surfaced from the darkness, her eyelids fluttering. She smiled. "Father. Mother. You are together... You are with me... Am I in the Great Beyond?"

"Not yet, my little witcher," Geralt smiled. He heard the shaky breath escaping Yennefer and imagined she felt the same sort of conflicted relief. Her presence made him feel a tad better, a tad more hopeful despite how close to death Ciri looked. "You will have to hang on a bit longer for us, Ciri. It's going to hurt a bit, but you have to be strong. Like the true witcher you are."

He nodded to Yennefer and she shifted closer, whispering something to Morvran. Together, they took Ciri gently by the arms to hold her down.

Geralt gnashed his teeth, holding his hand over Ciri's shoulder wound, and made the Igni sign.

Ciri screamed, her body jerking against Morvran and Yennefer's grasp. Her eyes seemed to clear from some of the disoriented fog that had covered them before, as though the pain had plunged her straight back into reality.

Triss and Jagna watched in horror, Triss was pressing a hand to her mouth. Fringilla was beside them, her demeanor more collected.

The windows shook in their panes but stilled completely once Ciri's voice died and her body slumped against the mattress beneath her.

Geralt felt as though the pain torn through Ciri ripped his own heart apart. He felt Yennefer receive her own share of heartbreak, trembling all over now as she brushed the wet strands of hair off Ciri's slacked face.

"Move aside, Geralt," Fringilla said, in a hurry to check on Ciri and add some healing magic. "Now it has to work."

This time the wounds were closing and stayed that way. It took Fringilla and Triss a while to heal all torn flesh they found on Ciri, then they asked men to leave so they could clean the girl from blood and dirt.

It was the hardest effort the Witcher had ever made - to simply step outside that room and leave Ciri behind.

Yennefer smiled for his sake and nodded with reassurance: she would take care of their girl.

"Geralt of Rivia," Morvran said, cracking a small smile. "Glad to see you alive and more or less well. We've been making ourselves crazy looking for you. Now that you are all here, let me treat you to a bath. But make it quick - I need to hear what happened. Something tells me we don't have much time of peace and quiet left."

"I'm afraid you're right, General," Geralt nodded. "I'd appreciate that bath, however."

---

"There's a bit of cold left, but it's going to pass soon," Triss said, stroking a hand over Ciri's forehead while Jagna tucked the blankets around Ciri's sides to warm her up.

Fringilla was mixing a potion by the bedside table. Ciri's wounds skinned over, but the traces remained, still red and painful on the inside. It would take a bit of time and ointments to heal fully, and Fringilla reckoned it would be impossible to keep Ciri in bed or at least make her rest to ensure that.

"What happened to you, darling?" Triss asked, directing her attention to Yennefer. "Have you dipped in a pond? Is it... silt in your hair?"

"Where did you find Geralt?" asked Fringilla.

"I didn't find him, Ciri did," Yennefer answered, raising a self-conscious hand to her hair, the other having snuck beneath the blanket to find Ciri's. "She always finds him." Yennefer smiled softly, sadly as she averted her attention to her daughter. The healing they'd done had been immediate, and yet, the scars were still there. And not just the physical kind.

"What happened after we left you with that elf?" Fringilla asked, corking the potion.

"We couldn't find Geralt for almost a whole moon," Triss added, eyeballing Yennefer in wonder. "Where has he been all this time? And why?"

"I don't know— I don't know anything. There hasn't been time to discuss or find out where Geralt was found. Or how." Yennefer stroked Ciri's palm beneath the blanket, her skin warm to the touch. "I was told to leave, to wait for Ciri — I did that. Then we were attacked by the Wild Hunt. I assumed they followed us... caught up..."

"What are the chances of Avallac'h having set it up?" Triss asked.

"But then Ciri would be in their hands now," Fringilla reasoned, and turned to Yennefer. "Do you believe he saved her? Or he set her up?"

"I don't personally trust him." Yennefer squeezed Ciri's hand gently, remembering how he'd guided her to find the energy sources. How from where she sat it had looked as if he'd been trying to teach her - that he cared. "I think it's safe to say that even if he isn't on our side, he is on Ciri's..."

"Do you not believe his goal is the same as Eredin's? To use Ciri for their sake?" Triss insisted. "Perhaps he's only keeping her away from Eredin because he wants her to be his very own trophy. Only his — in the eyes of all Aen Elle."

Yennefer glanced at Triss thoughtfully. In some ways, she could see why her friend thought that, but in other ways - it felt wrong. If Avallac'h wanted Ciri for himself, why would he have brought her to her family and then disappeared? If Avallac'h wanted her for himself, he had every opportunity or means to do so.

Unless this moment was part of his plan and he was giving her what she wanted as a test?

"I don't think that it is. I don't think Avallac'h wants to see her hurt or parade her as a trophy. If he did — he'd have found another way and made her work with the Aen Elle, they wouldn't be chasing her now."

The door opened, and Istredd came in, concerned and nervous.

"Yenna! So good to see you well!" he greeted, sparing the other two sorceresses a nod as he approached. "I've just been informed— How is Cirilla?"

Istredd's arrival awakened guilt that made Yennefer slowly rise to her feet. She couldn't be sure where Geralt had gone now and when he'd return. "She's... resting." As if to make certain, Yennefer glanced down, removing the hand from beneath the blankets to gently touch Ciri's face and her forehead. "She's been through a lot."

"Can I help with anything?" he asked.

"We healed her the best we could for now," Triss said. "She needs rest. When she wakes up, we shall see what else to do."

"Of course," Istredd nodded, and turned to Yennefer again, his eyes gauging her. "You need to take care of yourself, Yenna. You need some rest."

"I shall remain with Her Highness, m'lords," Jagna said from where she sat by Ciri's bed. "When Her Highness wakes, I will send news."

"I will stay as well," Triss said.

"I— thank you," Yennefer responded at last, feeling that it was the best way to get Istredd out of the room. She couldn't talk to him or warn him that Geralt had been found.

Warn?

A hint might have been the better thought and yet the guilt seeped deeper like venom.

"I shall order a bath and dinner," Istredd said, squeezing Yennefer's shoulders reassuringly while darting a glance Ciri's way. "You need it. While Cirilla rests."

With that, he walked away.

Fringilla observed them with a furtive smirk, akin to one toying with Triss's lips. They exchanged quick glances and focused on Ciri when he left.

---

"Geralt? Geralt? Where are you?"

Ciri is floating in the icy lake again, hands clawing at her shins and ankles from beneath. The dead she has left behind under the ice all those years ago are trying to drag her down with them.

She kicks at them, annoyed by the distraction when she is so close to finding The Witcher. She has seen him on a shore up ahead, white hair stirring in the wind, yellow eyes glowing in the dark. She has to find him. Has to save him. Bring him home.

The lake is large and on the far end, she thinks she has seen Kain. He is out there, too. Waiting to be saved. But he seems so impossibly far away.

It has to be Geralt first.

"Stop it!" Ciri screams at the insistent corpses. "I don't have time for you!" Their deaths will have to be processed later. Maybe in a year or two. When The Hunt is dead.

Dead slimy fingers loosen their hold. As Ciri begins to swim, she can just about see their white faces beneath the surface, sinking back into the depths.

She swims as quickly as she is able and hurries to pull herself onto land.

While on her hands and knees, heaving for breath, Geralt's footfalls approach. When his boots come into view, Ciri uses his legs to help her stand, wrapping herself around him in a tight hug.

Her heart is singing. Elated.

"I was so worried! I thought they'd taken you! That you were lost forever. I thought I'd failed you."

Geralt says nothing. Nor does he return her embrace. Which is odd.

Ciri hesitantly pulls back and inhales sharply once she gets a look at his face.

His eyes have turned bright red, like two glowing coals in his eye sockets. And his skin... his skin is gone!

She pushes herself away, repulsed and in shock. It isn't Geralt at all.

"No good... no evil... only pain..." the creature hisses, his hand lifting and slashing across Ciri's face with sharp cat claws.

---

Ciri woke with a startled gasp.

"Ciri!" Triss jumped, startled, and leaned in to soothe the girl. "Ciri, it's all right. You're safe. Are you cold? How are you feeling?"

"Here, drink this," Fringilla said, bringing one of the potions to Ciri's lips. "It will help with the pain."

Ciri, still a bit confused and disoriented, allowed the sorceresses to fuss over her, to help her sit up and drink the foul-smelling liquid that was pushed on her. She suppressed the lingering pain and aches that assaulted her body. It wasn't important.

In the end, Ciri's eyes found Yennefer. "Are you alright? Where is Geralt? Did we bring him back?"

"Geralt is fine. We sent him to rest so that we could tend to your wounds," Yennefer added, her attention on Ciri again. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Ciri dismissed their concerns, looking around the room. "Where's Avallac'h?"

"He hasn't come here, darling," Triss said. "Are you certain he would? How come he didn't save you from the Hunt?"

"He did," Ciri replied, starting to get out of bed. "He saved me and stayed behind to fight. I have to find him."

"Do not get up yet," Fringilla said, stopping her along with Jagna who jumped up from her seat to tuck Ciri in again. "Let it heal. You lost a lot of blood. The hounds did a lot of damage."

"You need to keep still for a bit, my darling girl," Triss agreed. "Do not worry about Geralt. He seemed in good health, just tired. He must be resting now."

"Yes, but Avallac'h may be hurt!" Ciri pointed out, wincing when pain shot through her shoulder as she was forced to lay back down.

"If that is so, no one can help him," Triss reasoned. "You admitted yourself that you cannot find him until he finds you."

"I believe an elven sage can take care of himself," Fringilla said.

"I know where I left him behind, so it's not as though I don't have a clue to follow," Ciri said, her voice unusually raspy and tired.

"Do you truly believe he stayed where you left him?" Triss asked.

"I can go back to check on him for you," Yennefer interjected quietly.

Ciri turned to her, grateful. "Not alone. Please. Can you bring Istredd?"

"It's not a good idea," Fringilla said and looked to Yennefer. "The Hunt might still be there. And then you'll bring them here when you escape back - that if you have time to escape."

"Ciri, dear, it's best for us to wait for him to find you on his own," Triss said. "If he put so much effort into confusing your trail, this affair with seeking him out can spoil everything. Please, be reasonable."

After a knock on the door, Istredd came in. At the sight of Ciri, he bowed.

"Happy to see you awake, Your Highness. How are you feeling?"

Ciri didn't know how to answer that question truthfully without making them all worry again. "Fine."

"If you need anything—" he started, but the suggestion died out along with the pleasant mien when the door opened and Geralt strolled in, his hair damp from his recent bath.

Morvran was close on his heel.

Istredd and Geralt locked eyes, both visibly stiff and bristled at the sight of each other. Then both gazes darted in Yennefer's direction, and back to each other, scowls deepening, jaws tightening.

Yennefer, for all their joint yet silent glares and inquisition, didn't flinch. Now wasn't the time. Pity their meeting had happened like this, and she hadn't been able to talk to Istredd beforehand, but he had been aware she'd been looking for Geralt.

Istredd blinked away first, bowing to Ciri and Morvran. "If you excuse me, General, Your Highness, I merely wanted to check on Her Highness and Lady Yennefer. Now I need to make some preparations."

"Of course," Morvran waved a hand, not particularly interested in details.

The wizard removed himself from the room as quickly but gracefully as he could.

Yennefer had to wonder if by preparations Istredd meant plans to leave the palace. Would she reach his room and find his belongings gone? Did Yennefer want Istredd to leave?

She knew she wasn't the most caring person, and she could be too analytical and cold, but she did care for him. That had become more apparent while Istredd tended to her this time. He made her feel loved. But was that enough?

Yennefer knew that if it had been, she never would have sought out Geralt, never would have lived with the Witcher, or felt her heart race whenever she thought of Geralt. Even now, even after how complicated things were between her and Geralt and the potential of reopening Istredd's emotional wounds - she wasn't sorry, she couldn't be and never would be.

Triss and Fringilla glanced after Istredd as he left, both trying not to smile.

Geralt proceeded to sit on the edge of Ciri's bed, smiling down at her with warmth and adoration. "How are you, little fighter?"

Some of the tension Ciri had felt visibly fell away when Geralt entered the room. She smiled. "Don't demote me now. You named me a witcher earlier. Or was that a dream?"

"No," he laughed, relief spilling through his chest, loosening it a tad. "It was not. But Dandelion taught me repeating thyself is bad tone and lazy."

"Too late to take it back now." She looked him over. "Are you alright? Have you recovered from the spell?"

Geralt shrugged. "I suppose I should consider myself recovered in comparison." His eyes flicked meaningfully to her bandaged shoulder.

"Good to see you awake, Princess," Morvran said, standing by her bed. "Master Geralt was generous enough to fill me in with his side of the story. And we both agree we better prepare for the possible repercussions of your earlier skirmish."

Ciri stared at Morvran for a long time, contemplating whether or not he had taken a part in her earlier dream as well. It felt strangely like he had.

"What happened with the Hunt after we left you, Ciri?" Geralt asked.

"Um, I got swarmed by a new group of hounds. And there were riders, I think." She frowned, trying to remember. "To be honest, I couldn't see much. But then they were all knocked off me and Avallac'h was there. He threw me into the lake and told me to leap. So I did."

"And then he stayed behind," Geralt said as if finishing the sentence. "Did you see him fight the Riders? Caranthir was there — I don't think Avallac'h will hurt him."

"Why not?" Morvran asked.

"He was to him like Ciri to me - his ward, foster child. He raised him."

"I see," Morvran nodded. "Isn't it a problem, considering this battle means taking sides?"

"I believe it might be," Geralt admitted.

"It's not the same," Ciri said. "Avallac'h threw Caranthir aside when he was no longer of use to him. You'd never do that to me."

"Kain was certain it's not all that simple nor obvious," Geralt said. "I believe he was right about it. The Sage has his own private agenda."

"Caranthir resents him as though it's the truth," Ciri pointed out.

"There is no knowing for sure what they feel for each other," Geralt said.

"That is true," Fringilla agreed. "Elves don't like to show any feelings."

"Any true feelings," Triss added.

"Whatever there is," said Geralt, "I don't give a damn at this moment." He looked at Ciri. "What is with Kain?"

"He was taken. By Caranthir," Ciri said. "Walked directly into his trap."

"Why would he do that?" Geralt asked.

"There's a theory you may have put a jinx on him when you delivered his bow to Brokilon," Ciri said, unsure if Geralt would even remember.

Geralt stared, astonished. "What? When? How did—" The dawn of realization quickly switched to rage on his face. "Those accursed elves!"

Ciri patted his hand sympathetically. "It wasn't your fault. But as it turns out, it was rather fortunate they sent you on that errand. It's how Avallac'h was able to snatch you and keep you out of their grasp."

"I'd rather he did it for Kain," the Witcher said. "Damn! Did he at least tell you where to look for him? How we rescue him?"

"Excuse my intrusion," Morvran interrupted, "but would having Kainar in their grasp be enough for them? I believe you told me either of you two would do for their goals."

Ciri glared at him, green eyes blazing. "If it were, are you suggesting we just leave him to it?"

"Of course not," Yennefer interjected to defend Morvran's ill-spoken suggestion. "No one would ever suggest that. It's a fair assumption to think that though."

"It was not what I implied," Morvran said. "I was merely surprised they still attacked you if they had what they wanted. Or does it mean they want to destroy you if they have him, and it would be the other way around if it were you who got caught?"

"I wouldn't put it past them," Geralt said. "It's not in their interest to leave any trace of Lara in our world."

Ciri calmed, rolling her head on her neck in an attempt to ease the tension there.

"Caranthir is working with someone from Kain's past. Another Cat Witcher. Female. They used to be lovers..." Ciri kept her gaze on her hands in her lap. "She wants him back. She wants... She's going to put him through the Trials. To eradicate what is good and pure about him entirely."

"Trials?" Morvran asked, bewildered. He glanced between Ciri and Geralt, and the latter's face suggested a grim recognition.

"Are you serious?" Geralt asked, staring at Ciri with a stunned, nearly horrified expression. "Mutations at his age... It's fatal. There's nearly no chance. And with his Elder Blood there is no way to know what happens."

He rubbed his face, exhaling, then set his eyes on Ciri again.

"Who is that Feline? How did it happen?"

"A girl... woman, who trained at the Cat School when Kain did." At least, that's how Ciri understood their history to be. "Her name is Zar'kin. I don't know how she and Caranthir met, but I assume it was through Scoia'tael.

"Kain was examining the portal you disappeared from when he stepped into a magic circle on the floor, trapping him. Caranthir appeared. And she did a few minutes later."

Geralt was staring down at the floor, mulling it over.

"Zar'kin… I remember her," he muttered. "Aen Seidhe, a vicious fighter, one of their best shots. He did tell me about her as well, I just... my memory's not at its best lately. Slipped my mind."

He heaved a sigh, running his hands through his hair, and shook his head.

"Cat School - they were nomads. No actual fortress, just traveling between others and staying on the road, taking contracts, and teaching newcomers. Their formulas were hidden away in different places along with some weapon schematics, and a few chosen witchers knew where to look. And after the massacre over fifty years ago, we all thought their time of making new witchers was over like ours."

"I think Kain believed she was dead as well," Ciri revealed, eyeing Geralt. "You know anyone who would have more information?"

"She was there during the massacre," Geralt said. "It was a fair assumption on his part. Nearly no one survived but a handful of us who got lucky. We don't have friends among Cats. Lambert had, but those hardly know anything about mutagens. If Zar'kin plans to change Kain, it means she has those formulas or knows where they're kept - unless she's crazy enough to use a partial formula on him. It'd be just plain murder."

"She might go with that option, depending on Kain's attitude," Ciri commented. "I got a feeling this is an 'If I can't have you, no one can' situation."

She paused. "Before they left the catacombs, Caranthir placed another spell on him. Some sort of ice crystal to his heart. It hurt him a great deal and incapacitated him further. The two of them had to drag him through a portal by the arms."

Geralt set his jaw, cheeks bulging. "She couldn't keep him subdued otherwise. Means Caranthir and his Riders won't guard him for her. Question is where she keeps him."

"How do you know what happened when they caught him?" Morvran asked Ciri. "That elf sage told you?"

Ciri shook her head. "I saw it. A vision. A memory. Triggered when we found the remnants of the trap. Avallac'h helped me see."

Geralt frowned, thinking it over. What if Avallac'h had influenced the vision, he couldn't help but wonder. Asking Ciri that, however tempting, didn't seem fair. Even if that was the case, she couldn't know.

"Are you absolutely certain about what you saw?" he asked instead. "Could it be one more trick Caranthir mustered to mislead you?"

"It would have been a smart move," Morvran mused. "Making you look for that Cat witcher while Aen Elle have him all along."

"Question is whether their magic is that strong," Triss said.

"Only if Aen Elle have him," Fringilla added, "they wouldn't kill him like that Cat witcher plans."

"Avallac'h would have known," Ciri said. "He would have known if the memory was false."

She paused, trying to bring forth every detail. "Kain offered to take my place. Caranthir said they wanted me because I can leap. Oh, and apparently I've offended Eredin to the point where I owe him a debt. It seemed Caranthir simply wanted Kain out of the way."

Another pause.

"I am not certain Eredin knows what Caranthir is doing."

"Is it possible for him to do anything without Eredin knowing?" Geralt asked. "There were more Riders with him by the lake. If you're right, they all are risking their heads by doing it behind Eredin's back."

"Avallac'h included," Yennefer added, trying to gauge Ciri's reaction to the thought. If only she could read the sage's mind.

"Avallac'h's life is already forfeit," Ciri reminded. "As for Caranthir, I detect a rebellious nature. He may be loyal to Eredin, yet he wants certain things his own way. It felt like he believed losing Kain would hurt Avallac'h more than anyone."

"Is that the reason?" Geralt asked. "It's Caranthir's personal revenge?"

"But why would it hurt Avallac'h?" Morvran asked, glancing between Geralt and Ciri. "I thought it'd be you, Cirilla, he would be worried about."

Triss and Fringilla watched them like a fascinating duel, their eyes flicking back and forth between the Witcher and Ciri, both thrilled and curious.

"Well," Ciri began slowly. "As far as I know, Kain is not a descendant of Lara. How then can he be Hen Ichaer? I… Avallac'h denies he had any involvement with Kain's conception, but Caranthir seems to believe otherwise."

"What in hell made him think that?" Somehow the idea of Avallac'h's hand in it made Geralt furious. "Maybe Eredin put that idea in his head to slam a wedge between him and his mentor."

"You asked Avallac'h, Ciri?" Triss asked. "He denied it to you?"

"He could have lied," Fringilla said. "If he is connected to Kain, he might want to keep the details secret. He won't tell the truth to anyone, maybe not even Kain."

"Did Kain ever ask him?" Triss asked, looking between Ciri and Geralt.

The Witcher shook his head. "I don't think Kain wanted to allow such an idea, let alone ask. The only one who can tell us the truth would be our mother."

"Would she?" Ciri asked. "She's, um, very elusive."

"With all due respect to your family ties," Morvran said, "is it truly important for our current predicament? We need clues to Kainar's whereabouts and we need to know what to expect from the Wild Hunt now that they seem to actively be tracking down Cirilla."

"Expect carnage," Ciri said, looking at Geralt. "I should probably get out of the city. Lure them away from the civilians."

"That is out of the question," Morvran said, folding his arms. "First of all, you three need to rest while you still can. I do believe we can expect the Hunt here, and I shall prepare for an attack. No matter how talented that Caranthir is, he alone won't be capable of bringing in too many. And whatever group he can bring, we can take. We have people and means."

"Sounds promising," Geralt mused. "There is not much else we can do." He looked at Ciri. "You're in no condition to get up and run. You need to allow yourself a bit of rest while you can."

"That is reasonable," Triss piped in. "Fringilla and I shall assist General Voorhis with preparations for the Hunt's possible assault. You need to collect your strength - you'll need it."

Ciri was reluctant but she recognized leaping was out of the question at the moment. She probably wouldn't make it further than the hallway.

"Don't leave." She reached for Geralt with one hand and Yennefer with the other. "Don't leave me."

"No, Ciri," Geralt said, squeezing her hand. "Never again."

"I'm not going anywhere," Yennefer answered, squeezing Ciri's hand in return. Istredd would be dealt with later - for now - she was happy to have her family back in one piece. Safe. She glanced between both Geralt and Ciri with warm appreciation. They were at peace for the time being, a peace that would only last mere minutes or hours before being shattered again and she planned to savor it for as long as she possibly could.

"My darling Ciri, they both need rest as much as you do," Triss said, stepping closer. "Yennefer needs a bath and dry clothes…"

"I'll stay with you, Your Highness," Jagna said, reminding everyone of her presence. She had been standing on the sidelines quiet as a mouse. She approached and bowed to Ciri, smiling. "You won't be alone."

"I'm fine," Yennefer added despite the offer from Triss and Jagna, hating the feeling of the drying clothes sticking to her skin. She also wasn't particularly fond of the smell emanating from her, but again, that was secondary to everything else. "Bathing can wait, I can stay, I'm sure Geralt could do with the company, too." She peered at him then to see if he'd resist or agree, but Geralt's attention was consumed by Ciri.

"I'm inclined to agree with Lady Merigold," Morvran said. "If we're to endure a battle in the nearest future, everyone has to be prepared and more or less rested."

"Why can we not rest in the same room?" Ciri asked, annoyed. Why was everyone so eager to separate her from her parents?

"Courtesy of the court, Your Highness," Jagna said timidly. "Nobles rest in separate rooms to not have their sleep disturbed. Here's just one bed."

"Bed's not a problem for a witcher," Geralt said, and then a knock on the door came.

Everyone turned to behold Istredd who entered with a bow. His dagger-sharp glance shot Geralt's way, then settled on Yennefer, softening.

"Excuse my intrusion, lords and ladies. I came to tell Lady Yennefer that her bath and dinner are ready."

"She can bathe here!" Ciri protested. "It's not as though we haven't done these things before." Her grasp on Geralt and Yennefer's arms tightened insolently.

"With all due respect, Your Highness—" Istredd started, but Morvran raised a hand, cutting him off.

"Go tend to your needs, Lady Yennefer," Morvran said and smiled at Ciri. "I'm sure your daughter will allow it. I shall order your dinner to be delivered here, Master Geralt, and for you, Cirilla. That is all flexibility I'm willing to show at this point. I ask everyone else to leave the room and let Princess Cirilla rest."

"It's all right, Ciri," Geralt said, tired of all the unneeded fuss. "I'll stay right here, and Yennefer will return when she can."

He turned to Yennefer and nodded, his gaze firm. "Go. You deserve a moment."

"Please," Morvran gestured to the door, indicating Istredd and everyone else besides Geralt who needed to leave.

Fringilla took Triss by the hand and led her away. Jagna went as well, intending to see about the dinner. Istredd was standing by the door, stubbornly expecting Yennefer to join him on her way out.

Yennefer pressed a departing kiss to the back of Ciri's hand and slowly stood. "I'll be back in no time."

This she directed at Geralt, too, a lot quieter than intended. With that, she headed for the door, nodding at Istredd to lead the way. She didn't want him and Geralt to make any more silent eye contact. It was far too much for one day. Let alone an hour.

Ciri watched her retreat with a sad frown, one she eventually sent Geralt's way. "One would think royalty have power enough to choose who stays in their bedrooms," she whispered. "This place is strange."

"And yet it's quite some princess life," he said, a teasing smile blooming on his face. "One too easy to get used to. Should've seen that bath they made me — smelled of flowers I didn't know existed."

Ciri's eyebrows rose, lips twitching. "Mm, I'll put in a good word for you. Maybe you'll get to be princess."

Geralt threw his head back laughing. "I think I'd pass it on to Dandelion — he'd make perfect use of it."