Can't believe I'm actually doing this... Criss thought as she put on her travelling clothes. Bringing one of her friends to the Continent was something she would have said was out of the question a little while ago, but now she was planning to do just that.

"We'll meet outside Novigrad. I won't be long, a few hours at most," Criss told Yen, who was also gearing up.

"If you're sure this friend of yours can help, then it'll be worth the wait. Meanwhile, I'll get some horses from the villagers on the outskirts."

They both left the inn, with Criss going to saddle her mare and Yen heading for the nearest passage into the underground tunnels below Novigrad.

The horse was eager to stretch her legs and, as soon as they passed the city walls, Criss let the mare break into a canter. A few hours later, she was once again in front of Drahim Castle, where she had first arrived. Considering she didn't know much about the outskirts of Novigrad, this was the only place that seemed remotely safe for what she was about to do.

She led the horse near the entrance to the tower and hitched it to a post, giving it a gentle pat down the length of its neck and a few encouraging words. The mare nudged her in return, demanding a treat. With a smile, she dived into her satchel for a biscuit and offered it up.

"You behave yourself while I'm away and there'll be more of these waiting," she said as the mare munched on the offering, then sniffed her satchel for another helping. After giving the horse one more biscuit, she went into the ruined building.

The inside of the tower was even more unpleasant than she remembered it to be, but it was away from any prying eyes and there were no wards surrounding it. She could wield whatever magic she wanted here, and no one would be the wiser. Her hand patted the hidden pocket inside her belt and felt for one of the small rocks stashed there. She fished one out and held it up to the light before whispering a few words and transforming it into a small hourglass with red sand inside it. Her anchor. She placed it on the ground and the sands inside it began to shift and pour. An hour - that's how long she'd be gone.

The portal opened before her, and she walked through it with sure steps. On the other side was her house on Idris – immaculately clean as always, just as she liked it.

The house – like many of its kind - was a brilliant combination of technology and magic. All inside the four glass walls responded to her thoughts, the materials beneath the floor shifting and morphing into whatever she needed them to be.

She accessed her vault and took out a few more gems – some she intended to turn into coin, others she needed for anchors and various other spells. Next on her list was locating Lyari. After all, he was the one she came to find. She pulled up a holomap and focused her tracking spell on the layout of the city. A small red dot appeared on the image. He was at the Hands of Stone – the best place to watch a fistfight or get your ass kicked, depending on your pleasure.

The transporter took her to the entrance of the venue. Some unsavoury sorts were taking bets outside. She passed them in a rush and crossed the hallway to get to the arena.

The stands were packed with crazed spectators shouting curses and encouragements in equal measure to the fighters – Akira and Olir. She joined the half that cursed them. It wasn't the first time they thought this was a good idea after a few drinks and each time they came back with fresh injuries for her to heal. For them, this was a fun pastime, but for her, it was no more than a nuisance. She'd never understand why anyone would take joy from punching a friend in the face until they bled.

Her disapproving eyes swept the benches, looking for Lyari's familiar face. He was planted in the row closest to the ring, on his feet, whistling and cheering them both indiscriminately.

She made her way down to his side just as Akira tripped the green giant, making him face-plant.

"Which one did you bet on?" she asked Lyari with a vague scowl.

"Neither. It wouldn't really be fair, now would it?" He leaned in close to her. "I know exactly how far down the bottle each of them was. This will be his fight."

Just as he said that, Olir landed two consecutive jabs to Akira's side, followed by a skull-ringing uppercut, knocking her effectively on her ass. He pinned her down, twisting an arm until she tapped the mat, acknowledging her defeat. She stood up on wobbly legs – either from the alcohol or the repeated blows to the head. One of her eyes was swelling shut, her bottom lip and nose were busted and dripping blood down her chin. He wasn't looking much better, either. His cheekbone was broken, a gash down his temple was bleeding and now that he was smiling, she saw he was missing a tooth.

Akira smiled at her and elbowed the orc, but Criss could only shake her head at them. They'd get a piece of her mind once they were out of the ring and they knew it.

"Grrreat time forrr ourrr healerrr to show up," Akira said with a bloody grin.

"Sure, that's why I exist, to cure your self-inflicted wounds. Too bad I can't cure stupidity," Criss answered with an eye roll.

"Does that mean you won't heal us?" Olir asked, giving her his best puppy-eyes.

"I'll heal some of the damage, but you both deserve to feel the consequences of your idiocy for days to come. I'll leave you each with a reminder of this fight and you get to choose what that reminder will be." They groaned in unison. "Pick, or I won't heal any of it."

Olir huffed and pointed at the cut on the side of his face while Akira touched her lip.

"Serves you right for being such daft assholes," Criss said as she healed the rest of Akira's injuries.

Lyari patted the sad-looking Akira on the back. "Come now, you'll get him next time," he said in his most comforting voice.

"Stop encouraging them," Criss chided.

"They'll end up fighting regardless. Might as well hear some kind words at the end and since you seem to be in a fouler mood than usual, I thought I'd oblige." He measured her with a thoughtful look. "Now that I think about it, I haven't seen you this cranky since that one time Tezzi robbed you. What happened?"

"Nothing happened," she replied while moving on to Olir.

"Really?" His eyes narrowed. "How's Geralt?"

She involuntarily stiffened at the mention of Geralt's name and answered without meeting his eyes. "He's busy."

"Ah, that explains it," Lyari said, with his index tapping over his lips.

"Don't start, please! I get enough of this" – she waved her hand at him – "from his friends. He'll be back once he's finished whatever his daughter asked him to do."

"I don't doubt it. It was quite obvious that he was smitten with you."

"If you're so sure, then why the pity?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter what I believe when you look miserable, so I can spare some sympathy for a lonely friend."

"I'm nowhere near miserable. Maybe I miss him a bit, that's all." He raised an incredulous eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes. "Want to help me feel better?"

He took on a dirty grin. "I thought you'd never ask."

She gave an exasperated sigh. "Not like that."

He laughed. "I know, I know. I was just joking."

Akira's ears perked up. "You need help with something, my sweet?"

"I need to get someone out of a well-guarded prison, and Lyari's stealth skills would get him in and out with minimal casualties."

"Sounds enterrrtaining. I'll get some supplies and we'll meet herrre," Akira said with a half-smile that would have been a grin if not for her cut lip.

"I'll come too in case his stealth is not enough and you end up needing some muscles. I still owe you for last time. Been meaning to pay you back," Olir added.

She shook her head and rested a hand on Olir's back. "Thank you both, but can't take either of you this time. This world hasn't seen anything the likes of you two. You'll stand out worse than a sore thumb."

"Bollocks! You can cast an illusion and we'll blend right in," Olir replied.

"Won't work. The place we're going to has magic wards against illusions and portals. Plus, there's a purge of magic users which makes it even more dangerous if any of us get caught. You'll have to take a raincheck on the fun. Sorry."

"Pity," Akira said with a pout.

"So, are you in?" Criss asked, turning to Lyari again. "I know it's not what we usually do, but I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure, if that's what it takes to lighten your mood. Won't do to have a pissed off healer," he answered with a grin.

She gave him a half-hug, and they agreed to meet up in one of the designated portal areas in the city once he had gathered what he needed for the trip.


Before creating the portal, she thought it best to clear a few things with him.

"You might need to keep your head down if we meet any strangers. The population's biases extend to non-humans, elves included, and I've seen plenty burned at the stake while I walked the city's streets."

He grimaced. "I see. Would have been great if you told me this before I agreed to join you."

"You can still walk out. I won't hold you to it."

He shook his head. "No, I'll come. Anything else I should know about? Any other last-minute warnings?"

She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. Yennefer had been nice to her, but one could never be too careful. After all, Geralt had repeatedly said that the Lodge seeks power above all else, and she was one of its members for better or worse.

"One more thing. Their magic is not as varied as ours. They wield primarily Chaos and suffer from all the shortcomings associated with that. I'd like to keep it that way until I learn more about them. So keep your thoughts hidden and no talk of enchantments, anchors, other magic systems, guardians, the Underworld..."

His hand rested on her shoulder, and he smiled. "No shop talk, I get it. Mum's the word."

With that, they conjured the portal and returned to the Continent. The anchor still lay on the ground, the last grains of red sand draining to the bottom as they stepped out.

He sniffed the air and grimaced, then peered out over the balcony as she had first done.

"Looks quaint," he said.

"Yes, unfortunately, it falls into the category of beautiful places ruined by inhabitation. The scenery is lovely, the people not so much," she said as she descended the consecutive ladders to the bottom floor.

She led him out to where her mare waited for them.

"We'll ride together to the outskirts of the city. A mage friend is waiting for us there with fresh mounts."

He got into the saddle behind her, and she nudged the horse forward to a trot. Lyari was light, but it was bad form to push the horse into a sprint with two riders and their luggage on its back.

As expected, Yennefer was standing by the side of the road past the bridge leading out of the Gate of the Hierarch, hidden from sight by a small tree grove, with two horses beside her - a red dun and a mouse grey. She watched them from afar with a thoughtful expression.

"This is Lyari Dahana, a longtime friend. He's agreed to help us," Criss told her once they both dismounted. "And this is..."

"Yennefer of Vengerberg," Yennefer cut in promptly and extended an ungloved hand to Lyari.

His eyes swept up and down her shape in a quick glance, and a devilish smile graced his lips as he took her hand and bowed to her before pressing his lips against her knuckles.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he replied in a low voice, keeping his eyes on hers.

Yennefer measured the elf from head to toe with a pleased look. Perhaps she shouldn't have found it surprising, with his blond hair and forest-green eyes, Lyari was handsome even by elven standards and yet she looked at them in disbelief. Criss cleared her throat and stared at him with a raised eyebrow, wanting to convey that this was not the time to pay court to anyone. She brought him here to get a woman out of prison, not to play matchmaker.

"We should get going. Time is of the essence," Criss said.

"Indeed," Yennefer agreed, and reluctantly removed her hand from Lyari's grasp. "We'll need to ride to Oxenfurt. It's not safe these days to portal anywhere in Redania. There are patrols everywhere and we'd risk running into one." She handed the lead of the red dun to Lyari. The horse was already saddled and bridled – same as the mouse grey - the elf just needed to shift his pack onto the new mount.

"Do you have a plan in place for how we'll get into the city?" Criss asked as they trodded down the road southeast of Novigrad.

"I have a contact near the city. We'll leave the horses with him and he'll provide us with a boat that can get us to the city walls without being seen by the guards. Then we'll have to climb a wall to get in. It's not too difficult. I've made the trip several times since the warrants for my arrest have been issued."

"And once we're inside?"

"Then comes the unpleasant part. We'll have to get into the prison through the old tunnels underneath the city."

"Tunnels? That doesn't sound too bad," Lyari said.

"Maybe I should've mentioned that they'll be filled with necrophages, drowners, corpses and sewage."

Lyari's mouth curled down in disgust and he shot Criss a dirty look. She replied with an apologetic shrug. They always waded through muck on their trips. This couldn't be any worse, so she didn't think it was a detail important enough to mention.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Yennefer asked after catching the silent exchange between the two friends.

"Not at all. I'll manage. I just wish I knew beforehand. Would have packed a different armour. One I liked less, perhaps."

Yennefer smiled. "I share your distaste. If it wasn't so important, I'd never be caught dead inside that cesspit. But the woman we set out to save is a dear friend and will be an important ally in our fight against the Hunt."

"Is she part Elven?" Lyari asked.

Yennefer turned in her saddle with a look of surprise. "No, she's not. What makes you ask such a question?"

He met her eyes and put on a charming smile. "You're part Elven, are you not? I simply thought your friend might be the same."

"You have keen eyes. I'm a quarter elf, but it's hardly noticeable."

"Your stunning eyes are a dead giveaway, as is your beauty."

Criss rolled her eyes in despair. They were going to risk their lives, and he was in the mood to woo. She urged her horse forward, so she was now in line with him.

"Can you please focus on the task at hand?" she whispered, annoyed.

"I agreed to help. That doesn't mean that I can't enjoy myself in the process. As far as I can see, there's nothing else to do but ride and chat for now."

He spurred his horse forward and rode up to Yennefer's side, leaving her behind with her thoughts.

If he wanted to try his luck with Yennefer, who was she to deny him? After all, Yennefer could decide for herself if this was the appropriate time to entertain his fancy.

It turned out that Yennefer didn't mind Lyari's interest at all. More so, she encouraged and welcomed it. All the way until evening when they set up camp, she heard them laughing and chatting merrily.

Criss tended to the horses while Lyari went hunting for some game and Yennefer disappeared in search of firewood. At least, that's what they told her. The glances they stole told another story altogether. They were off for a little tryst in the woods. Charming, she thought, amused.

Once the horses were fed and groomed, she took it upon herself to build a small campfire with twigs she moulded out of the nearby vegetation using magic. A gentle fire sparked under her fingers and soon the warmth spread to her body. She unpacked her bedroll and laid it out over the soft tuft of grass and waited for their return while nibbling on an apple and a piece of bread she had in her satchel.

It was hours before the two returned, both conspicuously empty-handed and with ruddy cheeks.

"Forest ran out of wood?" She stifled a smile, but couldn't help her sarcasm. It was none of her business what they did, but that didn't mean she couldn't poke fun at them when an occasion presented itself.

"We decided to scout a bit. There's a Redanian campsite close by and we wanted to make sure there weren't any patrols in this area," Yennefer said in a deadpan tone that could almost pass as believable if Criss didn't know any better.

Criss hummed and decided to play along. "Then we should take turns keeping watch overnight. Wouldn't want to be surprised by anyone with our trousers round our ankles."

Lyari cleared his throat and sat on his bedroll by the fire. "No, of course not. You two can sleep. I'll take first watch."


To no one's surprise, the night was uneventful. No one came across their camp and they got a good night's rest – or at least as good as it could have been, considering they were out in the open at the mercy of the late autumn weather.

They set out for Oxenfurt, passing by two Redanian camps. Luckily, the soldiers paid them no mind. They were more interested in Nilfgaardians than potential mages or non-humans. By evening, the walls of the city stood high before them.

Instead of heading towards the city, they stopped at a nearby hamlet to meet with Yennefer's contact. They left their horses in his care and borrowed his boat.

With Yennefer at the helm to guide them, they navigated the shallows and reached a small beach near a low wall. They camouflaged the boat and hopped over the wall and into the city.

Yennefer led them through the streets and into a courtyard. A well stood proud in its centre.

"This is the way in," Yennefer said while pulling out a coil of thick rope from her satchel and tying it to a pillar.

Once it was secured, Lyari climbed down, followed by Criss, then Yennefer. At the bottom of their descent lay a dark lake. They plopped down into the cold water and Criss conjured a light to help them see the way forward. At one side of the cave lay a muddy shore, and next to it, a broken grate that led into a passage - the entrance into the underground tunnels. They made their way towards it.

Once inside the tunnels, the cold magical light cast shadows over the mossy stone walls. Small niches dotted the partially flooded corridor. In them lay the remains of statues depicting elves, just as decrepit and decayed as the rest of the construction. Lyari's eyes clouded at the sight, and his jaw clenched.

"These are Elven ruins," he said matter-of-factly. "Elves used to thrive here. To create." His voice gradually descended and grew colder.

"All human cities are built upon the remains of Elven cities," Yennefer said. "The Conjunction wasn't kind to the elves or to the other non-human races who inhabited the continent before humans arrived."

"Sounds like a familiar tale."

"Was it the same on your homeworld?"

He nodded, his face stern. "It happened when I was still a child, only it wasn't humans in our case. It was something much worse. They destroyed... everything. Cities, farms, villages, the landscape and wildlife. My world is a desert now and it will never be anything else."

"I'm sorry," Yennefer replied with genuine sadness.

Criss said nothing. She had heard him speak of it when he was down in his cups and feeling melancholic, but she had never pried. All she knew was that he called it a failed Conjunction, but how it came to be was a mystery. Records of those events had to be tucked away in the archive on Idris, but if she could go through them, they might prove useful to Ciri.

"Nothing to be done about it except rebuild," he said. "Let's find your friend."

Yennefer nodded and cast a locating spell. A small firefly appeared to lead their way through the underground maze.

The passages looked all the same, twisting and turning, some closed off by grates. They advanced in silence until they happened upon a pile of decaying corpses on which a pack of alghouls was feeding. Criss fell back while Lyari drew his sword. A shield flashed around him as he threw himself at the monsters.

"Careful of their spikes and don't let them knock you down," Criss warned between his slashes.

The elf twisted gracefully, dealing blows at each turn, severing limbs and heads. Yennefer raised her hands and blue lighting flashed to his side, turning a ghoul into a smouldering pile of ash.

Between Yennefer's spells and Lyari's blade, the fight was over quickly, and the path forward was clear.

"You did your research on necrophages," Yennefer commented as they walked down yet another tunnel.

"Not on purpose. Geralt sometimes spoke about his work. I just listened."

"I bet that really tickled his ego. He always liked the sound of his own voice."

Criss didn't get a chance to reply. Out of the murky water filling a side passage, five blue-skinned silhouettes threw themselves at them. Drowners. The first one knocked Yennefer down before they could react.

With a disgusted yelp, the sorceress flung a spell at the creature, sending it flying into the opposite wall. Lyari cut down another two who were lunging at Criss, and Yennefer incinerated the rest.

"I'll never understand how Geralt does this," Yennefer complained. "It had the most horrid breath."

"I doubt Geralt cares. It's not like he was trying to kiss one," Criss joked.

"Neither was I, and yet that one got close enough for me to smell it." A shiver of disgust ran through her. "I can't wait to be out of this disgusting place." She shot a glance at Lyari. "No offence."

"None taken. I can't say I enjoy it either. Now it's no more than a bleak graveyard. What does your little tracker say? Are we far?"

With a wave of her hand, Yennefer sent the magical firefly away, only to have it return a few moments later.

"We're close. Just down this corridor and to the left. Should keep quiet from now on. We're likely to meet guards on our path."

"If you two can manage alone for a bit, I'll scout the way, then come back to get you."

They both nodded and the next moment, Lyari disappeared, shrouded in the camouflage that rendered him invisible. Yennefer hummed, looking apprehensively at the place where the elf stood mere seconds ago.

It wasn't long until Lyari returned, none worse for wear.

"There were four guards. The passage is clear now," he said. "They should be out of it for a few hours at least."

"Impressive," Yennefer said with a raised eyebrow.

"When am I not impressive?" he replied with a full grin.

Yennefer rolled her eyes, but her lips curled into a small smile.

They treaded on, past the stunned guards, and climbed into the dungeon through a break in the wall. After a short flight of stairs, they were inside the jail, surrounded by metal cages – most of them empty.

A hoarse voice shouted a little way from them. One of the guards had spotted them and soon another five had joined him, launching an attack with halberds and swords in hand. Criss cast the protective barrier around them once again, and Lyari dashed from one to the next, dealing blows with the hilt of his sword.

Lightning shot out of Yennefer's fingers. "Just kill them!" she shouted to the elf, but he ignored her demand and preferred to stun them instead. Her bolts turned two of the guards into smudges on the floor while the rest lay unconscious on the ground. She pulled out a dagger from her belt and cut the nearest one's throat.

"What are you doing?" Criss asked, grabbing her shoulder in an attempt to stop her from doing the same to the next man.

"Finishing them. They saw us. If we let them live, all will know it was us who freed their prisoner and send soldiers to track us down. We're lucky none of them set off the alarm." She shook off Criss's hand and moved to the next man.

"Wait!" Criss stopped her again. "I'll wipe their memory instead. No need to kill them."

"It's a waste of energy on the likes of them."

"My waste, not yours. Find your friend while I deal with them."

Yennefer's eyes narrowed, but she put the dagger away. Criss knelt next to the men and did as she said, removing all traces of what they had seen from their minds. She also made sure they would be out for the next few hours, so there was no chance for them to set off the alarm until they were far enough from the city.

Finding the missing sorceress proved to be an easy task. She was huddled on the floor of one of the cages, unconscious. Yennefer touched the bars, then grunted displeased.

"The cell is made of a dimeritium alloy. I can't break it. We'll need the key for this."

"Dimeritium?" Criss asked.

"It suppresses magic in all forms. Far more powerful than silver."

"Where do we get the key?"

"Captain of the guard, most likely. He must be somewhere above us in the prison." She looked towards the ceiling. "We might have to raze the whole place to get to him." Her voice held no remorse at the prospect.

"No," Lyari said. "I'll track him down and get it. No further killing will be necessary."

With that said, he disappeared once more, leaving them alone with the prisoner.

Yennefer circled the cage to get closer to Margarita and knelt next to the bars. Her slender fingers squeezed through and took the woman's hand while Criss inspected the metal curiously. She tested the material with a small Chaos spell. It resisted fully. She was tempted to try other forms of magic, but refrained.

Margarita stirred and opened her eyes.

"Yenna?" she moaned.

"Yes. It's me. We're getting you out."

Yennefer's fingers clasped her hand, only to withdraw quickly. Her face took on a severe expression as she inspected her friend's hands. She was missing fingernails and a few fingers were bent at unnatural angles.

"This is the work of the men you saved from my blade," Yennefer said in a harsh tone, pointing at Margarita's hands.

"You can't be sure of that and I won't kill unconscious men in cold blood. There's a good chance I'll be able to heal her injuries. I just need Lyari to get back with that key so I can have a closer look at her wounds."

The blonde woman crumpled in a corner looked to be on her last legs, and every wasted moment could prove important. Criss tapped her foot impatiently, then paced the corridor between the cages until Lyari popped up next to her without a sound, startling her.

"I have it. Let's get that woman out of there."

The key twisted in the lock, and the door swung open. Yennefer was the first inside, taking the key chain from Lyari and unlocking the dimeritium handcuffs that held her friend prisoner. Criss followed behind her and crouched next to the sorceress. She deftly pocketed the handcuffs, then inspected Margarita's wounds and grimaced. The sorceress was in even worse shape than she expected. Without help, she would have died in a day. They had flayed her back, and the flesh was red and infected under caked dirt and grime, her fingers had been broken and there were a number of cuts and bruises to her face and body. Most of the damage could be healed right away, but some cuts and her back needed to be cleaned beforehand. She wasted no time in putting her magic to use. Bruises yellowed and faded, cuts healed, and pale skin regained colour. A thin magical barrier coated the remaining wounds, sealing them from the outside environment to avoid further injury and dulling the pain she undoubtedly felt.

"I've done what I can, but she needs rest and nourishment."

Margarita gradually regained consciousness and, with Lyari's help, she was able to stand.

"Can you walk?" Yennefer asked.

Margarita nodded, but her first steps were like that of a newborn babe, so Criss grabbed her arm and slung it over her shoulders to give her some support. Between her and Lyari, the weight was manageable, and they made their way back through the winding passages to the underground lake.

Yennefer looked worried at the dark expanse of water, but Lyari's hand clasped her shoulder reassuringly.

"I can take her across, but we'll need something to secure her hands around me."

"I used all the rope I had. There's no more," Yennefer said with disappointment.

Lyari looked to Criss. He didn't need to speak his mind, she already knew what he expected from her.

"I think I saw something we could use in the passage. I'll return shortly," she said and excused herself.

Once out of sight in the dark tunnel, she placed her palm on the walls and moulded the moss green covering the stones into a length of rope, leaving behind a swatch of clear rock. She returned to the others and tied Margarita's wrists, positioning one hand over Lyari's neck and the other under his arm and across his chest. A minor spell sealed the rope so it wouldn't burn into her skin from the pressure. They were now ready for the toughest part of their journey.

The swim to the middle of the lake was a difficult undertaking, and she kept to Lyari's side at all times in case he needed help with the half-unconscious sorceress. They reached the rope and Yennefer was the first to climb, followed by Criss and Lyari with Margarita still hanging on to his back.

The journey back was uneventful and immeasurably easier than their trek through the Elven ruins.

Yennefer's contact, a man named Rorre, was waiting for them on the shore.

"We need lodgings for the night and a bath drawn up," Yennefer told him.

He looked at them with a critical eye and shook his head. "I apologize, Lady Yennefer, I cannot. Lending a boat is one thing. Providing refuge to a wanted sorceress, an elf and an escaped prisoner is too much. I'll end up on a stake."

"I urge you to reconsider," Yennefer pressed him. "A woman's life may depend on it. Keep in mind that when the Church threatened your daughter, I helped you. This could have been her instead."

His jaw clenched. "I'm sorry... But I can't take in all of you. I'll offer refuge to the hurt woman, but the rest of you will have to camp elsewhere. You should take the horses with you so they don't draw eyes to me."

"I have to remain by her side to tend to her wounds," Criss intervened. "I'm not wanted by anyone, and I promise I won't attract any attention by being here."

Rorre nodded and moved aside to let them carry the wounded sorceress into the house. Yennefer gave Margarita one last pitying glance, then pulled out a pouch from her bag and handed it to the man.

"This will more than cover your troubles."

He took it without a second thought and went inside while Lyari and Yennefer took the horses and left to find a safe place to camp overnight.

Criss was already appraising the house, looking for the things she needed. A large bathtub sat in the corner of the room, half-hidden behind a wooden screen. It was a good start. She could worry later about towels and clothes. First, she needed to clean and close the wounds.

She set aside her travel bag after taking what she needed from it and moved a stool next to the tub, laying cleaning products on it. Rorre looked at her from a distance, still unsure if he had made the right decision.

"Instead of staring, why don't you make yourself useful and bring fresh water to fill this tub?" She was quickly losing patience with the passive attitude prevalent in this world.

Rorre hesitated, but after a moment he grabbed two buckets and disappeared outside without a word. He returned a short while later and poured the contents into a large cauldron over the hearth, then left to refill the buckets. Criss stoked the fire and magically nudged the water temperature higher, just to speed things along. Soon the bath was drawn.

"Can you please wait outside while I help her bathe?" Criss asked him. "Give her some privacy."

"Of course. I'll make sure the boat is moored safely."

She undressed the sorceress, taking care not to cause further pain, then helped her into the water. A weak hiss escaped her lips as the water splashed over the raw flesh. Criss picked up the washcloth and began cleaning the grime and dirt off her skin. Slowly but surely, she healed the damage the witch-hunters had done to the sorceress, and soon Margarita's winces and groans subsided and disappeared.

Unburdened by the pain, she took the washcloth from Criss's hands and started cleaning herself. Whenever she ran it over an old wound, she'd pause for a moment to inspect the skin.

"There are no scars," she said, eyeing Criss with interest. "What spell did you use? Was it an inversion?"

"Does it matter?"

"No. It was professional curiosity." She continued to bathe. "It's nothing I wouldn't ask another and nothing another wouldn't answer. We're all kin now that so few of us are left."

"Yet I cannot answer you."

Margarita paused her bathing at looked at her from under raised eyebrows.

"I haven't a clue what an inversion is," Criss explained. "Never been formally trained." Not here, anyway, was the part left unsaid.

"Hmm, that explains why I don't remember you from Aretuza. I never forget a pupil's face."

"You taught at Aretuza?"

"I was the headmistress before Thanedd." The corners of her mouth curled down. "Perhaps one day, if Radovid's purge doesn't end our kind... Perhaps I'll teach again."

Criss didn't know what to say to that. This entire world was in disarray and when the dust settled, who knew what would remain. Perhaps the time for magic was over in this world and now followed a time of invention or darkness – whichever the humans chose to pursue. Her world had chosen the latter before reaching the former. Maybe they would be wiser. Then again, maybe not.

Instead of laying out her thoughts or empty reassurance – which she deeply hated – she redirected to the mundane, immediate problems that needed solutions.

"First, you need rest and food. Finish your bath and I'll go find some clean clothes for you. I'll see if there's anything in my bag that will fit you, then I'll ask Rorre for some dinner."

She pulled out a clean blouse from her bag, but she could tell that the fabric would most likely strain against the sorceress's chest. Even so, she had no spare pair of trousers or skirt. A different solution was needed.

She found Rorre outside, neatly stacking firewood under a small roof.

"Yennefer said something about your daughter. You wouldn't happen to have some old garments leftover that you could spare. My friend could do with a clean change of clothes and I'm afraid we're not a match for size."

"Aye, I have some clothes in a chest. I'll fetch them for you. Not like my Rosalie will be back looking for them."

"Thank you. I appreciate your help, even if you weren't quite eager at first."

He sighed and shook his head. "I'm not usually as callous as I was today. It's just that after seeing so many tied to the pyres... It gets to you, you know?"

She nodded in understanding. Fear was a powerful deterrent for people to offer help.

"Regarding supper, I've spoken to the maid at the tavern. It's all been taken care of. She'll be by a little later with some plates of food," he added as he finished stacking the last of the wood and went to retrieve the chest of clothes.

Criss rummaged through the items and picked out a few that would suit Margarita. Luckily, Rorre's daughter was a better fit for the sorceress than she was. She returned to Margarita and helped her dress before letting Rorre back into the house. Their dinner arrived shortly, and they all settled at the small table with a plate in front of them. The sorceress all but forgot her manners once she got a taste of the food, and Criss would by no means dare to criticise the cooking, but it wasn't the kind of food that warranted such passion. Unfortunately, her zeal was just the result of weeks of starvation, so Criss took a few more bites from her plate and offered the rest to Margarita.

"In the morning, we'll set out for Novigrad. We have a safe place there where you can recover," Criss said for both Rorre and Margarita's benefit. He needed to know that they'll not impose on him any longer than needed, and she needed to be reassured she'll be safe and taken care of.

"I heard all the mages fled to Kovir. Lady Yennefer made sure my Rosalie was among them."

Margarita lifted her eyes. "Rosalie you said? Is your name Toorsabb by chance?"

He nodded in response.

"I remember her. She was a good pupil, very gifted in potion-making. Last I heard, she had a shop north of Oxenfurt."

"That she did. Before the hunts started, everyone loved her. They'd come to her for everything and she was welcomed in anyone's home." He sighed and stared at a knot on the wooden table. "Yet it didn't take much for her neighbours to turn on her once the priests claimed that the drought was the mages' doing. 'Only giving the heathens to the Eternal Fire could return the rain.' That's what they said."

"Even if it's false, if something is repeated often enough, it is enough to make one believe," Margarita replied in a thoughtful voice. "My heart is emboldened, knowing she's escaped with the rest. Perhaps I'll meet her again soon, then I can tell her that her father helped me when I was at my lowest."


Rorre was the first to wake that morning, and once his light footsteps sounded in the quiet cabin, Criss also stirred in her bedroll. They had agreed to let Margarita sleep in the only bed in the house, while they laid on bedrolls on the floor. It hadn't been very comfortable, but she got a good night's sleep, nonetheless.

She shuffled out from under the covers, went to stoke the fire and gather their things in preparation for their departure.

Rorre had made himself scarce, and the house was utterly quiet, aside from the sound of crackling logs. She dove her hand into her pocket and felt around for the cool metal hidden inside. Dimeritium. It was the first she'd heard of it, and she desperately wanted to study it. Something like it could be used as a weapon against any mage and she needed to know to what extent it suppressed magic and by what means. Once they were back in Novigrad, she'd have to add this task to everything else she had on her plate. Perhaps that bookshop in Hierarch's Square had something on the matter. A visit to it was long overdue. She had promised to uncover more about Ciri's purpose and up till now, she'd made no advancements, letting herself be distracted by other things that shouldn't have held much importance to her.

A light knock at the door drew her from her thoughts. She went to open it. It was Rorre, looking anxious and afraid.

"Is she awake yet?" he whispered.

Criss looked over her shoulder to see Margarita sitting up, gazing through drowsy eyes at them. She nodded back to Rorre.

"Good. You'll need to leave before dawn breaks. There's unrest in the city and guards are rushing to the gates. Talk of an escaped sorceress has reached the village, and it's possible that soldiers will be here soon."

"Don't worry, my friend is very skilled at hiding tracks. There's nothing to lead them here. They'll be chasing ghosts for at least a day."

"Still..."

She clasped his shoulder. "I've already packed. We'll be gone as soon as Margarita is dressed and ready. It shouldn't take longer than half an hour."

He nodded, then turned and left to stand by the fence, propping up a slate of wood, making himself busy while keeping an eye out for any patrols.

She kept her word, and soon they were out the door. Outside was still dark and no other villagers were in sight. But the noise coming from the city stretched out far. It was the sound of metal clanking, faint voices, the rasp of metal chains lifting and lowering the gates.

With a final nod to Rorre, they set out down the path Yennefer and Lyari had left the previous night.

Once they were far enough from the hamlet, she cast a tracking spell that pointed them in the direction that their friends made camp. Their night's rest and the warm filling meal helped Margarita to her feet. Now she was walking by her side, unassisted, albeit slowly.

They found the campsite soon enough. The horses huffed in greeting at their approach while her mare gave a happy whinny. Yennefer's mouse grey stamped its hoof into the ground, but Criss's soft voice calmed him down. Her gaze swept the camp. Only charred logs remained of their fire and next to it was a single bed roll out of which jet black curls rolled out alongside Lyari's ruffled blond mane. She rolled her eyes and sighed, wishing she could just do a one-eighty and pretend she saw nothing. Instead, she cleared her throat loud enough to make them stir. Lyari's mouth searched for Yennefer's neck even while his eyes were still closed, and Criss coughed again. Long fingers came up to sweep the unruly curls from Yennefer's face as she pinned Criss with a cold violet gaze.

"We weren't expecting you so early."

"I can see that," Criss replied with a wry smile. Seeing as they made no move to get up, she continued. "Hope you two weren't planning on lounging around till noon. Rorre seemed to think scouting parties will be sent to search out the surroundings for the fugitive. I'd hate for them to find you like this."

Lyari looked at her, visibly embarrassed, and a milk-white shoulder appeared from under the cover of the bedroll. Only then did her eyes land on a pile of clothes neatly folded behind them. She bit back a sarcastic remark she had on the tip of her tongue and instead told them she'll be waiting for them with the horses. As promised, she tacked their mounts and not before long the two lovebirds showed up, at a reasonable distance from each other, as if she hadn't just found them both naked, sharing a bedroll. Neither of them brought it up, so she acted like it never happened.

"We have three horses and there's four of us. Who rides together?" Criss asked, fully expecting the new pair to be riding together.

"My stallion is the sturdiest," Yennefer replied. "He'll take Margarita and me without slowing us down too much," she continued to Criss's surprise.


It took them two days to get back to the outskirts of Novigrad, and she was thankful to see the high walls of the city again. They decided that Yennefer and Margarita would go ahead to the city through the secret passages beneath the walls, while Criss would lead Lyari to a safe place. The elf ceded his mount to Margarita and left with Criss, but not before subtly promising he'll return to see Yennefer again.

"You shouldn't play games with her," Criss chided once they were well on their way to Drahim Castle, or what was left of it.

"Who says I'm playing games?" he asked with a smile.

"You're not? You actually plan to return to see her again?" she asked, incredulous.

"You never know. I might now that I know the way here."

"No woman needs empty promises and she'll not thank you for making them," she said bitterly.

"She promised as much as I did, and she's hardly a blushing maiden led astray. If you must know, she's the one who tracked me down in the woods and got handsy. I only meant to pass the time pleasantly with conversation, while she had other things in mind."

"Fine, I'll keep my opinions to myself. You're both old enough to decide what you want."


She gave him a final hug, before taking her leave. "Give my love to the two dummies and thank you for doing this. I owe you one."

"Nonsense. It was all good fun for me. If you have any more prison breakouts, count me in... Just let me know if they involve sewage beforehand."

After seeing him through the portal, she rode back into town, straight to the Chameleon, her thoughts on the hot bath she'd take. Dandelion greeted her with an anxious look in his cornflower-blue eyes.

"Thank Melitele you've returned! I was worried sick! Where did you disappear to for five days?"

"Yennefer needed my help with something. She hasn't arrived yet?"

He shook his head.

"Then expect her soon. And she won't be coming alone. You'll have yet another... gifted guest in your establishment." She glanced over the room. There were plenty of patrons, but it was a far cry from the bustling crowd she had gotten used to. "Is the merchants' convention over?"

He nodded.

"Good. That means you have free rooms."

"You could have told someone where you went to," he continued to scold her.

She took in his honest concerned look and felt guilty for causing him distress. "Sorry, I'm not used to anyone worrying about my comings and goings. I promise I'll tell you next time."

"You're lucky I'm a decent owner for such an establishment. Another would have sacked your room after the second day... I was planning to wait until the seventh."

She chuckled. "I trust that all my belongings are still in place."

"Of course! Who do you take me for?"

"A curious bard," she quipped back.

"True. But even my curiosity is bound within the limits of decency."

"I was just teasing." She grinned at him, then huffed and looked down at her dirty and dust-covered attire. "Can you ask someone to send a plate of food to my room? The idea of eating while covered in filth is not particularly appealing."

"Sure. As for your clothes, I have a friend with a blooming business doing laundry. She'd be happy to sort out your garments for you."

She thanked him for his care and went up to her room. Everything was just as she'd left it. The sun was lazily setting behind the buildings, casting its last orange glow over the room. She took out the dimeritium cuffs from her pocket and set them on the desk - a reminder of things left unfinished. The next day, she'd begin her research, and her first stop would be at the bookshop.


A/N: I have no idea if you guys liked this chapter, sorry there was no Geralt in it. Usually I try to divide it between them, but it was already 8k and I thought it was too long already. On the upside, the next one is mostly Geralt and there are only a few more chapters until he returns to Novigrad.