CHAPTER 17:
MAKING PLANS
Avallac'h being present, obviously, didn't go down well. However, they did recognise that they needed all the allies they could get against the Wild Hunt, and for now, his presence was tolerated. He, after all, had more insight into Eredin and his plans than anyone else present.
After dinner, Ciri and Harry took turns explaining what had happened, with Eredin occasionally interjecting or clarifying a point. By the end of it, the three Witchers and Yennefer were looking grim. "As if the Wild Hunt wasn't bad enough," Vesemir remarked. "We have this Gaunter O'Dimm stirring up trouble. I have heard rumours of this Man of Glass over the years, true, but nothing truly substantial. That being said, I doubt he will be a source of trouble, at least for now. Or rather, I hope he won't be. If what he said about his motivations are true, then it's doubtful he would help Eredin."
"It's only a small comfort," Yennefer mused. "What also worries me are these Crones in Crookback Swamp. If what you overheard is true, Ciri, then they are most definitely allies of the Wild Hunt, though they also wanted a taste of your Elder Blood."
"Along with just about everyone else with an agenda," Ciri snarked. "Tamara Strenger, the Bloody Baron's daughter, seems to believe her mother is in Crookback Swamp, possibly as a thrall to the Crones. I'm not sure whether they've embarked there yet, or whether the Baron has gotten it into his head to do so, but I warned them to seek out a Witcher prior to doing so. True, I could have potentially helped, but at the moment, I am trying to deal with the Wild Hunt pursuing me."
"Knowing when to fight is key to any decent warrior, never mind a Witcher, Ciri," Vesemir said gently. "I know you want to help, but this is one of the toughest lessons to learn as a Witcher."
Geralt was looking thoughtfully at the table. "…Keira is in Velen, in Midcopse…while Triss, Zoltan and Dandelion are in Novigrad. Any idea on where Lambert is?"
"The last I heard from him, he was heading towards Velen," Eskel said. "What're you thinking, Geralt?"
"The plan is to conceal Kaer Morhen using this…Fidelius Charm or whatever it is, right?" Geralt asked rhetorically. "And then, use Ciri's power to lure the Wild Hunt here and try and deal with Eredin, or at least decimate his forces. But we need people of our own, and more than those in this room. And while I doubt Emhyr would be willing to send troops here, I'd honestly rather have quality over quantity."
Avallac'h then spoke up. "I agree. Given that you intend to…what is the human idiom? Pull the wool over the eyes of Emhyr? You could use those sojourns while pretending to seek Zireael to find allies willing to fight against Eredin and his riders. And there is also the question of armaments."
Eskel nodded. "I discussed something we definitely need to start cooking up with Avallac'h earlier. Dimiterium bombs. The Wild Hunt can open up portals with their own magic, not only to let troops in, but also monstrous hounds from other worlds…and the bloody White Frost."
"White Frost?" Harry asked. He'd heard Avallac'h mentioning the term in passing before.
Yennefer took up the story. "It's a force of unstoppable cold that encroaches on the world from the void between worlds. The Wild Hunt, apparently, weaponizes it. The White Frost is also linked, so they say, to Ilthinne's Prophecy."
"Harry, did you ever learn about entropy, the Heat Death of the Universe? The Second Law of Thermodynamics? It's a key part of physics on Earth," Ciri asked.
"Not really. That would've been more Hermione's thing," Harry said.
"Well, the Second Law of Thermodynamics states that entropy, that is to say disorder, always increases," Ciri said. "What that implies, in the end, that the universe would become a cold, uniform soup where nothing happens. That is the Heat Death of the Universe, in simplistic terms. The White Frost is like a magical form of entropy, of cooling the universe, and it is insidious, infecting worlds like a plague of frost."
Harry stared at her, appalled. "…And the Wild Hunt uses it as a weapon?" He looked to Avallac'h. "Are they fucking insane?!"
"Standards of sanity are relative between cultures," Avallac'h said coolly. "However, your reaction shows that you understand at least a fraction of the danger. The White Frost encroaches on our world. The Wild Hunt wields it as a weapon. That is what you face."
Ciri frowned as she considered something, while Harry just gaped at the sheer insanity of the Wild Hunt. Eventually, she said, "Harry, how far can Depulsio throw objects?"
This snapped Harry out of his shock at the Wild Hunt's usage of the White Frost. "Depends on how much they weigh and how much power you put into the spell. Why?"
"Have any of you got a Dimiterium Bomb or any other Witcher bomb?" Ciri asked Geralt. Her honorary father nodded, and fished one out his pack.
"It's actually normal Grapeshot, but it weighs about the same as a Dimiterium Bomb," Geralt rasped. "Don't play with it, or it might be the last thing you ever do."
Harry carefully handled the bomb after Geralt handed it to him, pursing his lips in thought. Eventually, he said, "…I'm guessing between one and two hundred feet…thirty to sixty metres, more or less. With any real accuracy, anyway." And then, he realised what Ciri meant. "You want to fire these things into the Wild Hunt's portals from afar or something, using the Banishing Hex?"
"As a possible tactic, anyway. The portals are about six to eight feet in diameter, around two to 2.5 metres in metric. Even if it's not a direct hit, the Dimiterium shrapnel would affect and disrupt the magic in the portal," Ciri pointed out.
"Direct hits from certain spells, those of this world, would do so too," Avallac'h said. "Something for the mages to do aside from thinning their numbers. I am not sure what your world's magic would do, though, Potter, at least in terms of closing or disrupting those portals. I am sure that in combat, they will be useful, but I should emphasize that, when fighting the Wild Hunt, you fight to kill. The Wild Hunt gives no quarter. They would only capture any of you alive to act as leverage against Zireael. To most Aen Elle, humans are little more than talking and somewhat intelligent livestock, killing you would be little more than a human farmer slaying cattle."
Avallac'h's gaze pierced Harry's own, and he nodded. True, he had killed before: inadvertently and in self-defence where Quirrell was concerned, and there was Voldemort and his Horcruxes. But Harry was willing to kill if need be, as long as those he did so were themselves killers, of the worst kind. He was certainly willing to do so to the witch-hunters in Novigrad. It didn't mean he liked killing, though the Wild Hunt would be amongst the exceptions to the rule.
Vesemir tapped the table thoughtfully, before he nodded. "Well, I think we should divide our resources. Eskel and I will begin work on our materiel needed for the battle here in Kaer Morhen, armaments, potions and so on. Yennefer, I presume you were going to continue with the ruse of searching out Ciri while seeking out help on Ard Skellig?"
Yennefer nodded. "I'll speak with Ermion and Clan an Craite. I do still intend to make a thorough investigation of the site where Ciri arrived, partly for appearances for any of Emhyr's spies, but also to see if I can find any means of tracing the Wild Hunt I have missed. I also want to interview Cerys, see what she knows about Gaunter O'Dimm as well as the magic of Harry's world."
"I'll head to Velen," Geralt said. "I'll see if I can get Keira's help. I'll also see if the Baron is willing to help, and there's that spy of Emhyr's. Any information he has might be useful, and touching base with him will also help sell the ruse. Ciri, what do you intend to do?"
"I'll head to Novigrad with Harry, ensure that Dandelion, Zoltan and Triss join us," Ciri said. "You can meet us there once your business in Velen is finished."
"Ciri, are you sure about returning to Novigrad?" Yennefer asked with a frown.
"I am. Triss, I believe, needs help to get those mages out of Novigrad. Both Harry and I wanted to do something about that earlier. At least now, if need be, we can retreat to Kaer Morhen for a time. What's more, I'm wondering if we can find supplies in Novigrad to help with the coming battle. Weapons, supplies for potions, oils and bombs, that sort of thing. If you give me a shopping list, so to speak, Uncle Vesemir, I'll do what I can to get the items you need. There's some good apothecaries there, even with the Church of the Eternal Flame seeking out heretics and mages."
"Then be careful, Ciri," Vesemir said gently. "I know we'd be hard-pressed to stop you from sallying forth, but we don't want to lose you again. Not with Eredin pursuing you, to say nothing of all those others who covet you."
"And there's Radovid and his allies in the Church of the Eternal Flame to consider," Yennefer pointed out. "Radovid might either capture you and wed you, or else execute you, simply to spite Emhyr. And Harry here is a mage, whether he be from this other world or not wouldn't matter a jot to Radovid or the Church. He'd burn just as well, in their eyes."
"I know. That's all the more reason to go back, to put a spanner in the works," Ciri said. "My father is a vile megalomaniac, but compared to Radovid, he is, unfortunately, the lesser of two evils, and believe me, I feel sick even thinking that."
"Would you ever consider his offer to take his throne, though?" Yennefer asked.
"…Consider, yes, but I doubt I would take it. Don't get me wrong, I could potentially do so much good as an Empress that I could never do as a Witcher, helping people from the top down. And yet, a throne is a shackle that I could never leave, and whose to say my reforms wouldn't be opposed by nobles who want to cling to their power? On the other hand, as a Witcher, life is hard and dangerous, and we are hated by many. And yet, I can help the common people more directly, earn my reputation through good deeds more directly. Yes, I know a Witcher's life is filled with hard choices, but I meant saving people who need saving."
Vesemir chuckled fondly and proudly. "You were always a clever girl, Ciri, but…you've grown, and matured, in mind and soul as well as body. I doubt the little girl who used to skip out on reading Ghouls and Alghouls would have thought so hard about such things."
Yennefer nodded in agreement. "Too many people seek power, whether it be in magic or politics, or, in the case of the Lodge and similar organisations, both. You have a mature perspective on power people twice or thrice your age struggle to comprehend."
"Given what I've seen back home and here, it's a rare viewpoint," Harry remarked sardonically.
"And in other news, the ocean is cold and wet, and so are the Skellige isles," Geralt snarked.
The meeting pretty much ended not long afterwards. Avallac'h disappeared to his makeshift workshop. Eskel and Vesemir had gone off to begin work on making what they needed, as well as compiling a list of supplies Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri and Harry should obtain.
And Harry? He was about to leave Ciri to have a proper reunion with her parents of choice, but she insisted he sit in on it. He had to say, he felt rather awkward here even with Ciri's insistence that he sit with them, a third wheel, metaphorically, even though there were more than three people. He was, after all, still something of an unknown quantity to Geralt and Yennefer, both powerful (especially Yennefer) and renowned figures on this world, and who were VERY protective of Ciri.
"You must have seen so many worlds, Ciri," Yennefer mused.
"Many worlds at many times," Ciri said. "As I said, I went to at least two different timelines of Harry's world, one in his world's past, and a probably alternate version of his world's future. Oh, the things I saw in that future timeline, you probably wouldn't believe."
"Try me," Geralt said.
Ciri chuckled. "Imagine a world where people put metal into their bodies, not merely to replace limbs, but to join their minds with mechanical devices or ethereal libraries. A world where war is waged through devices not wholly unlike Megascopes, but capable of rudimentary thought. A world where there were no horses, just metal carts that were driven by people, or drove themselves. Some could even fly."
"Ciri, stop fooling around," Geralt rasped, shaking his head.
"I don't think she is," Harry said. "A lot of the stuff she speaks of is in the fiction of my time, fiction that looks to the future. I think what she meant by Megascopes is what we call computers, machines that do calculations, and which can be infected with their own viruses. The metal carts certainly exist in my world, even if they can't drive themselves. They're called cars or automobiles. And we have planes and helicopters, vehicles that can fly. Hell, some decades back, people even managed to send themselves to the Moon. It's not easy, though. Leaving aside the difficulty of getting there in the first place, the Moon in my world is an airless desert, exposed to the full brunt of the Sun's rays. You know what sunburn is? Imagine that, but a million times worse. Hell, we have bombs in my timeline capable of wiping out entire cities, even a large part of a country. If one of those dropped on Kaer Morhen, there'd be nothing left but ashes, ashes that'd make you ill, give you cancer, and so on."
Geralt and Yennefer looked to Ciri in horror, who nodded solemnly. "They're called nuclear weapons, and believe me, they're not good at all. There was a famous building in the future timeline I ended up in, the original Arasaka Tower, that had a nuclear bomb detonated inside it by a man known as Johnny Silverhand. He was basically like a member of the Scoia'tael, a freedom fighter bordering on being a brigand and indiscriminate mass-murderer. Then again, the building he bombed belonged to a rapacious mercantile company, Arasaka, who didn't care who they trampled for profit. They even hire monsters who were once human, but replaced their flesh with metal. The most powerful called himself Adam Smasher."
Harry scoffed. "What kind of name is Adam Smasher?"
"Don't laugh. His name sounds ridiculous, but he is a monster whose only remaining flesh and blood part of his body is his brain. You know Darth Vader from Star Wars, Harry? Like him, only even nastier, no Force, but a lot of raw strength. Still, that world had many horrors, but it had many wonders too. I worked alongside a group of mercenaries for some time on that world. They were mostly good people, even if they ran along the edge of the law, or even outside it. A shame we had to leave."
"You sound like you enjoyed yourself there," Yennefer observed.
Ciri nodded, even as she looked around the main hall of Kaer Morhen. "Yeah, but believe it or not, it's good to be home. Especially a world where the natural environment isn't almost completely wrecked. And it's good to see you both again."
"…And it's good to see you again, Ciri, even though I'm sure we'd all wish it was under better circumstances," Yennefer said.
Geralt nodded. "After I regained my memories of what happened, or at least enough of them…while I went searching for Yen, I was also seeing if I could find any trail of you. I even had a disturbing nightmare. Remember that day on Kaer Morhen, when you skipped out on Vesemir's lesson on Ghouls and Alghouls, and we took you to practise? In the nightmare, it ended with the Wild Hunt coming along and attacking Kaer Morhen. I was unable to stop it, stood there like a fool, despite all my training."
"Dreams and nightmares have their own logic, Geralt," Yennefer said soothingly. "Though that seems almost like a premonition."
"I hate premonitions," Geralt groused.
"Almost as much as you hate portals?" Harry quipped.
"And Portkeys. What are you to Ciri?" the Witcher asked.
"…Her friend. A good friend. I think anything further than that can pretty much wait until we've stopped the genocidal racist Elves masquerading as the Nazgul from Lord of the Rings," Harry said. "That does tend to put the kibosh on relationships to some degree."
"…Fair enough," Geralt conceded. "Don't get me wrong, Ciri and Eskel seem to vouch for you, and Vesemir seems to have accepted you. But I didn't get to where I am without being cautious."
"My sentiments exactly, Geralt," Yennefer said. "Do not misunderstand me, I'd like to think both of us have the measure of you, an impulsive and quixotic do-gooder who may be trouble. But you helped Ciri, and you gave us valuable information about Gaunter O'Dimm. That's gone some way to earning some trust. Geralt and I are not always on the best of terms. Our relationship has been somewhat…"
"…Tempestuous?" Harry asked. "I mean, that's the way Triss, Dandelion and Zoltan put it."
"And not inaccurately," Yennefer admitted ruefully. "I will admit as such. But Ciri and her welfare is one of the few things we will agree on each and every time. We are protective of her."
"…So, are you about to say, if I do something to hurt her, you'll either bury me in a shallow grave, or worse, they'll never find my body?"
"Well, you've got the gist of it," Geralt said with an amused smirk. "She's been through enough in her life, she doesn't need yet another person screwing her over. I'm not saying you would do that. Like Yen said, we've got the measure of you, we think."
"But you're being overprotective and threatening," Ciri said with a sigh. "We're nowhere near that stage just yet where you really need to be. So let's concentrate on stopping the Wild Hunt for now."
"If you say so," Geralt said. "So…do you have any interesting anecdotes from your travels?"
"Ah, yes, there was this one time on that alternate future of Harry's world where I joined Maine's crew on a job. I was with Rebecca, and we were dealing with a gang known as Maelstrom…"
CHAPTER 17 ANNOTATIONS:
So, plans are being made, and Geralt and Yennefer have laid down the law to Harry. Not that he needs it.
Sorry about the wait. I'm not sure when the next chapter will come either. I've lost some interest in The Witcher 3 lately, even if I've regained interest in CD Projekt Red's other famous game, Cyberpunk 2077. That's probably why there's so many references, including a rewrite of Ciri's scene where she tries to explain what it was like to Geralt.
No numbered annotations this time.
