~ WRITERS' NOTE:

RedHood001, we're happy to see your review and congratulate you from the depths of our hearts with your college progress! Keep up the good work!

Yes, Ciri is the worry of many readers, including us. But there are things we can't help her with and she will have to go through them and emerge with whatever lessons she will learn. We'll watch how she does it. Hardly Yennefer is at fault here, but we all know how fervent her wishes and desires can be and how they can scorn her and others.

Geralt and his relationship with Visenna is one thing he never knew exactly how to deal with. What is simple for Kain is nearly fantastic for Geralt who never had more than one real conversation with her before and the rest came in dream-like sequences. He's confused, scared and angry and a little bit hopeful all the same. He needs to sort it out for himself.

grotesk, we're happy to see your reviews and thank you for your dedication!

Yes, Geralt finds himself drawn to Yen as she soothes his stresses and adds something he's missing in life. It's promising, given he had to build his trust anew since the start of the story.

And Ciri has indeed a dark side that has been left behind in books but couldn't possibly be forgotten and left untouched, for she has still so many things happening to her that stirs her anger, and we all know she's always had anger issues. We shall see what happens.

MoreBonesPlz, thank you for your dedication and reviews, they make us happy! We love hearing from you.

You're right, Geralt doesn't rely on memory with Yen, but on his newly discovered sense of comfort he finds in her presence. There is some intimacy forming, and it's good for both of them.

Ciri is acting out on many things that get to her, and certainly Kain is one of the big factors. He tried to avoid it from the start but sometimes there are things we simply cannot change, and we all know the saying about good intentions paving the road to hell. We'll see how it pans out.

"See this crystal here? It only looks like a decoration. Another one should be somewhere there," Triss waved a hand in the direction across the vast hall of Vivaldi Bank. "It's one of the few set in specific places to form a net of magic suppression. They were grown specifically for this task with the implementation of dimeritium and some powerful spells. It's very expensive, but bankers can afford it. Especially the most successful in their field."

"And that's it?" Geralt asked. "They rely on a few crystals spiked with dimeritium?"

"It's been working well until now."

"What could have possibly ignored that security?"

"I have no idea. Can't think of any mage capable of breaking through such a fence."

"And yet they want to blame Yennefer," Geralt smirked with bitter irony, surveying the hall. He wished to have missed something important that would allow him to think of any way to sway the blame from the raven-haired sorceress, but there was nothing he hadn't noticed or checked before.

"Because of some letter? It's silly."

Geralt turned to fix her with a mute look; she blushed a little.

"Philippa told me. Yennefer and Ciri were here, and Yennefer wanted to see some letter. Such an unfortunate timing for a bank visit."

"I'm sure she wasn't the only one visiting that day."

"The only mage," Triss said in a tone close to apologetic.

"She didn't do it," Geralt stated through gritted teeth, and considered her. "You don't believe she's innocent?"

Surprise swept through Triss's face. "I don't believe some letter is a reason enough for anyone to pull off such a stunt, especially her."

"But..?" Geralt narrowed his eyes.

Triss sighed. "She didn't speak to me about it, so how would I know? She stopped trusting me, she believes I'm conspiring with Philippa against her and Ciri."

"Does she have a reason to think so?"

"Geralt! Of course not! She keeps misjudging me. All I ever want to do is help protect Ciri and ensure her best future."

"What is that best future? The throne?"

"I would never force her to choose things she doesn't want! I love her, Geralt! I took care of her. I merely want her to be safe. But you, too, know that safety doesn't always equal happiness."

He heaved a weary sigh. "It's pointless to discuss it now, Triss. Better help me solve this."

"What can I do?"

"What can I blame for all of it?"

"Oh, if only I knew-"

"It's obviously a work of magic, and some magic that was capable of breaking through the barrier."

"I don't know of anyone or anything capable of such. Do you?"

"It should be unexplained magic, something no one knows about to reject it." The Witcher pondered, then peered at Triss with his eyebrows rising slowly, surprised to have thought of it. "What about a djinn?"

Triss looked flabbergasted. "Well... It's not utterly impossible," she was reluctant to admit. "No one knows for sure the nature of their powers and what the most effective way of stopping them would be."

"Then it's perfect," he began to smile. "I'll say someone scorned by Novigrad authorities released a djinn."

"They will demand you find that someone and prove it."

"No one would find such a person - it'd be a perfect crime. How can one trace a djinn?"

"I'll support your findings," Triss said. "But I doubt they will believe you."

"For as long as it saves Yen."

"If it does. Dijkstra is whimsical. And Philippa will enlighten him how slim the odds of anyone finding a djinn are."

Frustrated, Geralt went to the window and looked at the sky gauging time.

"I have to be in Oxenfurt by sundown."

"Why?"

"Meeting Kain. He could have an idea."

"I can take you there."

He looked at her. "You sure you're well enough?"

"Oh yes," Triss smiled. "I want to help Yennefer. I'm well enough for that."

"As far as I am aware, you drink for free at Rosemary and Thyme. Why then, do you choose to spend time at this establishment?"

Ciri looked up to see Avallac'h standing beside her table. She had not heard him come in.

"Needed a change of scenery," she said, turning her attention back to the musician on stage.

Avallac'h sat down in the chair opposite from her. The innkeeper may not have noticed Ciri as she entered a few minutes earlier, but he'd certainly taken note of Avallac'h. She didn't blame him. Avallac'h easily stood out among his usual patrons, in height, beauty, and clothing.

The innkeeper approached the table. "What can I get ye?"

Ciri hadn't brought any money and so expected they'd be asked to leave. To her surprise, Avallac'h produced several coins from within his robes and offered them up to the innkeeper. "Wine. Preferably from Toussaint," he said. "And two glasses."

"Certainly," the innkeeper responded, hurrying back to the counter with his prize to prepare the order.

Ciri watched the elf curiously. "Since when do you carry money?"

"Since we have resided in the same world for more than a week," he said smoothly. "It comes in handy."

"Have you come to chastise me for leaving the inn?" she asked.

Avallac'h shook his head. "Not this time. Of course, I would much prefer you to stay where you are safest. But I also have my doubts Eredin will show his face in Novigrad anytime soon."

Ciri turned in her chair to face him. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Just a feeling."

That was a lie, Ciri thought. Avallac'h always had a firm reason for believing what he did. He was simply reluctant to share any information he did not have to.

"Interesting, this whole bank ordeal," he continued casually.

Ciri eyed him warily. "How so?"

"Rumors say your sorceress is the number one suspect despite her obvious inability to have used magic at any of the locations. Almost seems as though someone wants to see her arrested. Executed. Gone."

"Dijkstra seems to have his mind set, yes," Ciri said. "Possibly due to Philippa's influence. She and Yennefer have never gotten along."

Avallac'h smiled, ever so slightly. His gaze was set on the stage. "The Lodge certainly would profit from getting rid of her. Without her motherly protection, you would be much easier to claim."

Ciri folded her arms across her chest. "Are you saying Philippa is trying to frame Yennefer?"

They both fell silent as the innkeeper returned with their wine. When he left them once more, Avallac'h said: "It would not surprise me. Of course, The Lodge would not be the only ones in favor of ridding you of your protectors. The Hunt would also enjoy the downfall of the sorceress."

Ciri looked dubious now. "You think Eredin sent someone to wreck the banks?"

"We both know who did it," Avallac'h said, meeting Ciri's gaze.

Her heart skipped a beat.

He knows.

Avallac'h continued: "But everyone else will speculate. And if they decide Lady Yennefer is the most likely suspect, we can always help sway their decision."

The orange glow of the setting sun was still spilled over the sky above Oxenfurt when Kain arrived. He had sent Griffin away earlier and trotted through the Western Gate, his hood low over his face. The guards saw the Cat's head sword pommel and let him through. Another guard he met on the street nodded with recognition - the guard was one of the assault survivors.

The city looked well again, but people seemed quieter. The market square wasn't as crowded, and everyone hurried for the taverns to be around their fellow citizens and lose themselves in cards, wine, and entertainment.

Kain found Dandelion at The Alchemy surrounded by a cheering crowd yelling ballads' names. The poet readily obliged and granted their wishes, made them spill a tear over the fall of Cintra and the emotional reunion of the Lion Cub and Witcher. His fingers never stilled on the strings, flowing into another story of the raven-haired sorceress and the famous golden dragon hunt.

Kain sipped his cider waiting for the duck breast on baked apples. It was a while before Dandelion took a break and excused himself to join him.

"Thank gods you're all right!" the troubadour greeted, plopping on the chair across from the Cat Witcher. He put his lute carefully on the chair next to him and regarded Kain with raging interest. "I expected you and Geralt to never part these days. Is he around?"

Kain sensed a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "I hoped so, for we were supposed to meet. I had business in Velen, he went ahead to meet you all."

"Business? A contract, I presume? Well, he never bothered coming here, it turns out." Dandelion gave a bitter scoff.

"He must've expected you to be back in Novigrad."

"I would've been, had it not closed." He smirked seeing Kain's eyes widen in surprise. He leaned forward over the table in confiding fashion. "All four dwarven banks were robbed last night. Guards missing, as well as some valuables. No one knows who could've done such a thing given all the protection against magic they have inside all of them. They closed the city, and all the traders and farmers who failed to get in with their produce came here instead. Some are staying at the inns, some go back home. Everyone's been talking about it, but no one knows. I've heard they blame a sorceress. According to the description, it's Yennefer. Why, though - I don't know. Not knowing is so hard on me!" He leaned back with a dramatic sigh. "But they wouldn't have let me in had I gone back."

"But Geralt got in, I presume," Kain mused.

"Dijkstra would want to have a word," the poet shrugged and grinned as two maids brought their dinner. "Finally! That strike of fame and performances are beginning to get heavier on my voice and fingers." He flexed his fingers, fisting and loosening them, and winced. "Haven't had so many performances with so little time to rest between them in a long time. Ah, I'm losing my shape! It's awful."

"Has it kept you here so long? Performances?" Kain studied him, sipping his cider, then set the cup aside to start on the duck.

"First repairs and keeping people's spirits up, then... I don't even know. I had a good time here, reminiscing and working on my memoirs. It felt right." He cut one of the apples on his plate in two. "I was going to join Geralt on horseback to return together, but you restless lot went to that swamp! Ciri told me all about it. Oh, I should've been there! To write a story, a hero ballad! Now I'll have to use my imagination. My imagination is of the highest order, I have to admit without any false modesty. But still, it's so much more vivid when I witness the adventures with my own eyes!"

"It wasn't exactly an adventure," Kain said. "The Crones were a bit too much for us to take on their own turf. They would no doubt get you to hurt Geralt. You mean a lot to him."

Dandelion didn't even try to restrain the widest conceited grin. "We share a bond," he agreed, but then his grin lost a speck of its brilliance as he peered up at the Cat Witcher from his duck on apples. "Or perhaps I should've said we shared. It's more and more apart that we walk our paths these days. These... recent days."

"Those paths became increasingly dangerous these days," Kain said. "He's scared to lose you to one of those dangers, Dandelion. You've been his brother for many years. Nothing would change the way he feels about you."

The poet looked up at him, eyes glistening in inspiration. "You believe so?"

Kain smiled. "I know so. Everyone close to you and Geralt know."

"Well... Of course, it's frustrating that he doesn't trust me to take care of myself, even after I've been here in the middle of an unprecedented attack... Ah, Kain, perhaps I'm a bit moody and jealous with not much reason for it, but remembering how wonderful our travels were brings unsatisfactory feelings."

"Understandable. Life changes all the time. Your times of fun and travels might yet come - if we defeat the Hunt."

Dandelion beamed. "Of course! We shall kick them out of our world, one way or the other. Even though it seems so unlikely every time they attack."

He chewed on the apple, reflecting, his brow furrowed slightly. A shadow passed through his face, he looked uncertain for a moment.

"Has Ciri been all right?" he asked finally. "With you and Geralt?"

Kain frowned, regarding him. "You mean something specific, don't you?"

Dandelion paused, battling with himself, then sighed. "To be frank, there's something bothering me about her. Our last conversation has been a bit funny... She seemed strange."

Kain took a sip of cider to wash down the meat. "Agitated and impatient? She gets like that a lot when it comes to the elves. She's had a bit too much with their chase, it's clear she can't defeat her anger. It's not ungrounded."

"Yes, yes, all that is clear enough," Dandelion nodded, pensive. "But it's more like... aggravation towards Geralt and Yennefer and everyone around her who, in her own words, hold her back. She said we're suffocating her with worry for her, we take her for a child when she's a grown person capable of violence and torture. She's very vengeful, very aggressive. More so than usual."

"It's been a long time the hunting for her - from both men and elves - took place and damaged her life. It took away the years of her childhood, innocence, her family. It's hard to make peace with it. I don't expect her to heal quickly."

"I do understand it all, believe me, I do," Dandelion waved dismissively. "But something in her scared me. She was so... relentless. So... cold."

Kain kept his face inscrutable, but inwardly he understood very well what the poet meant. "She lives with her pain every day, and tries her best," he responded. "But sometimes it gets too much, and then she rebels with her anger and she can say scary things. Best she stops at saying it instead of acting on it."

"Oh yes, no doubt," Dandelion nodded fervently. He raised his cup and smiled at Kain. "Here's to breaking this vicious circle as soon as possible to let Ciri have the life she deserves."

They drank and focused on their meals.

Ciri swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. Her mouth felt dry, so she took a sip of wine. It was good. Sweet. Avallac'h knew his wines.

"How did you–?"

"Know?" Avallac'h cut her off. He watched her closely, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

Ciri knew the gesture well. He didn't have to use words. She knew what he was saying.

I know everything.

He would never tell her the intricate details of how he deduced his conclusions or how he sometimes knew the future. That knowledge lay with the Aen Saevherne. The Sages.

"What are you going to do with this information?" Ciri asked, putting her glass back down on the table. She was prepared for a fight.

Avallac'h studied her again. "That is not the question you want to ask," he said. "Try again."

He could be so infuriating.

Ciri inhaled sharply. "Are you going to tell anyone?"

Avallac'h was silent for a long time, both in speech and movement. When the silence broke, he reached for Ciri's hand. It was a rare move on his part. Especially these days.

"Do you truly think I would?"

Ciri wasn't sure. "If it benefited you, perhaps."

A flash of anguish reflected in the elf's eyes. "How would your execution at the hands of foolish dh'oine benefit me, Zireael? What would allow you to even think such a thing? We have been together for years. You and I. Have I not proven myself worthy of your trust? Have I not saved your life on multiple occasions while endangering my own?"

He had. Several times. In several worlds. She simply was not sure of his motivations.

Ciri looked down at her hand in his; how small and fragile she looked compared to the elf.

She felt uncomfortable and pulled away. "How can we sway Dijkstra and The Secret Service's decision?" she asked, hoping Avallac'h would allow her to get away with the sudden change in topic.

He did. But she could see it pained him to not get the answers he wanted. The answers he could not make out for himself.

"I keep telling you, Zireael. You can do anything you put your mind to. Implant thoughts and memories into the minds of others, if that is what you need. If you wish to save Yennefer from the clutches of this town, you can."

He drained his glass swiftly and stood.

"Once you unlock the secrets of your powers, little one, you will be unstoppable."

His robes swayed regally behind him as he swept from the inn, leaving Ciri with a mixture of emotions: guilt, curiosity, hunger. None of which she currently enjoyed.

After Ciri had left Rosemary and Thyme, Yennefer had strayed to Kain's room to check on the letter she'd stashed in her magic case—to make sure it hadn't been taken—and then returned to her own room for a book she could read outside until the sun went down and a chill began to set in.

She hated waiting on her fate, on expecting answers when she could very well go out and get them herself, but Yennefer knew she was being watched and there wasn't anything she could do about that except impede the investigation and add to the fault. She had to trust that, even though she wasn't remembered by Geralt fully, she could rely on him to do everything he could to protect her.

Whatever that was.

When the sun had faded, she'd headed inside and seated herself at an unoccupied table, her hands wrapped around a cup of wine, her nails drumming at the cover of her book.

Ciri had yet to make her return and Yennefer tried her utmost not to worry too much about it.

She'd been deep in thought when she saw Avallac'h enter the inn. Zoltan had mentioned he'd left, hadn't he? Why was he back now?

The elf pulled his hood off upon entering and strolled languidly across the hall, his eyes flicking over Yennefer. The smallest of smiles touched the corners of his mouth.

"Surprising to see you wait for your fate to resolve," he remarked, stopping his progress next to her table. "You're not the one to leave it all in other hands and out of your own."

Yennefer wondered if he'd read her mind, if he had, she hadn't felt the intrusion.

"Not customarily. Unfortunately, I don't have much choice. Heard anything new?"

"There are always choices," he said. "Not all of them influence the outcome, however."

"Were you this evasive when it came to answering simple questions while traveling with Ciri?"

Yennefer could only imagine how frustrated Ciri must have been in the years she'd been stuck with him as she'd never been shy of asking questions.

He allowed a brief smile, very faint, and barely noticeable. "You humans rarely have the patience to read between the lines. Given how short your lives are, it's understandable. You need to rush through it, whereas races like mine are in no hurry. But you - your powers freed you from such limitations, and yet you continue to live with them. Remarkable."

"What's life without the charms of mortality? With all the time you've spent on the run with Ciri over the last few years, I'd have assumed that by now you'd have come to appreciate at least some of what humanity has to offer."

"And what would that be, in your opinion?" he raised his eyebrows.

"The unpredictability and raw emotions," Yennefer mused.

"I'm Aen Saevherne. Nothing is unpredictable for my kind."

Yennefer scoffed lightly.

"You're telling me that Ciri has never done anything that has surprised you?"

"I'm not easily surprised. What about you, Lady Sorceress? Has Zireael surprised you recently?"

Yennefer narrowed her eyes.

"More than I would have anticipated."

He hemmed. "She's Elder Blood. She is beyond any of your expectations. The question is how you will cope."

"That's still to be seen," Yennefer said. She wouldn't know how she'd be coping until she actually knew the outcome of tonight and what Geralt had managed to accomplish.

"There are various possibilities," he mused. "Some more prominent than others."

"Good or bad?"

"It's strictly subjective. Depends on many factors." He studied her with mild interest.

"Enlighten me," Yennefer said, studying his stony features. He gave nothing of his thoughts away.

He seemed amused. "Some years ago I met Geralt, and he wanted the same thing - to know whether he could find Zireael. And when I told him that his actions would do nothing to aid him in this quest, he preferred to ignore it. He asked if he would find her in the end, and I told him he would, but only to lose her again. He didn't care for it." He considered her. "Would you care if I told you she couldn't be changed? That what you see in her now - what frightens you so much - has been a part of her long before this day?"

"I don't believe that," Yennefer said and got to her feet. "If you can look at Ciri presently, and believe her to be the same person you've come to know after all these years of travel together – with the same heart – then you don't know her at all."

Avallac'h might not understand the full extent of what she was referring to, but it didn't matter to Yennefer because she wasn't prepared to elaborate or divulge more than he already thought he knew.

"Just as one would expect from humans," he murmured, heading for the stairs.

Yennefer snatched up her book to still her trembling hand, to keep her mind from spiraling to the truth of what Avallac'h might have predicted. What if Ciri was, in fact, this person who killed multiple men doing their duty for no more than a disguise with chilling indifference? What if it wasn't as dismissible as Yennefer believed or jotted down to some kind of curse? Could she accept that?

Yennefer exhaled, knowing that if it came down to it, that's exactly what she'd do.

Ciri was in a hurry to get back to Rosemary and Thyme. Avallac'h's words stuck with her, had probed her curiosity. And she could no longer wait. She wanted to know the results of the investigation. And she wanted to know now.

Once outside, the girl teleported to the third floor, right outside the room inhabited by Triss. She pressed her ear to the door, listened for sounds of movement from inside. But it was quiet. And as she entered – empty.

In her conversations with Zoltan, the dwarf had more or less implied Philippa no longer resided at the inn. Ciri supposed it had never been up to the sorceress' standards. But he did not know where she was keeping herself these days. Ciri briefly considered Dijkstra and his abode, wherever that might be. But it was a theory that quickly fell apart. Philippa was the type of woman who would rather have a residence of her own, one not ruled and constantly watched by a man. It was much more likely she had procured something to suit those needs.

Ciri assumed the other sorceresses knew her location, but doubted they'd be very forthcoming with that information unless specifically told to be so. No matter their bravery and strength, they all had a bit of fear of Philippa. It was easy to tell. She was the dominant party of their group. Even now they were no longer officially a guild.

Inside, Ciri rummaged through every book and piece of paper, searched beneath the mattress and behind pillows, attempting to find some clue as to where Philippa was keeping herself. Surely there had to be something. A slip of paper with an address or something of the sort.

But once she had looked everywhere and found nothing, Ciri began to doubt.

They are witches, her mind whispered. Of course, they do not conceal by normal means.

She sighed and thought. And as much as she loathed it, Kain's face sprung to mind. What would he have done in Ciri's situation? How would he seek out the information he needed?

He would use magic.

Ciri closed her eyes and focused, imagining her power – her very essence – to spread through the room until every insignificant corner and possible hiding place was covered. The word that escaped her was not her mother tongue, but rather that of the elves. Elder Speech.

"Reveal."

A click sounded somewhere to her right and when Ciri opened her eyes, she found that one of the paintings on the wall, the one depicting a bowl of fruit, had swung away to reveal a compartment behind it.

Clever.

She hurried over and peered inside. The only object in the compartment was a feather. She picked it up and examined it carefully. If she was not mistaken, it belonged to a snowy owl.

Thank you, Vesemir, Ciri thought, for it was, in fact, he who had taught her to make such distinctions.

As she held the feather in her hand, she once more applied a tactic Kain would have urged her to do, letting her magic soak the object and absorb all information she could gather from Philippa's lost talisman. In her mind's eye, Ciri saw cobblestone streets and tall houses. Her view narrowed in on one in particular. Dark bricks and a red roof-shingles. A tree in bloom on its left side. A small balcony on the second floor. A beautiful woman with braids and eyes that seemed just a little off.

"Got you," Ciri said with a satisfied smile.

She replaced the feather where she had found it and pushed the painting back into place before she left. A clear purpose in mind.

"Triss! I'm so glad to see you so well!" Shani got up from the table to hug the sorceress. Triss was smiling brilliantly.

"Triss! Geralt! About time!" Dandelion refrained from standing - their meals, a couple of desserts, and two bottles of Est Est of Toussaint made his legs a bit unsteady. Shani had joined him and Kain shortly after they settled for dinner, and the dinner had turned into a very nice jolly of three. By the time Triss and Geralt arrived, the troubadour's table was awaiting its third bottle and two more fruit sorbets.

"I see you're not going to beds anytime soon," Geralt observed, settling down.

"We should," Shani said. She was a tad tipsy, her eyes glistened, her cheeks held a nice, subtle blush that added to her loveliness. "But it's been too good."

"Oh yes!" Dandelion grinned. "Shame would be to pass on a good time after such a trying one, wouldn't you agree, my friend Geralt?"

"I certainly see your point, Dandelion." The Witcher met Kain's gaze; the latter was amused, sipping water. Geralt thanked the maid who brought more cups and another bottle, and opened it, pouring another round. "Here's to more such nice times," he raised his cup, his companions mimicked and drank.

Triss and Shani fell into some topic that held them both very engaged, and Dandelion had to grant the newly arrived patrons a couple of ballads everyone knew and loved and sang along to.

Kain and Geralt snuck out for a bit of fresh air. Geralt told him about the bank findings and his ordeal. Kain's frown deepened as he listened, he was shaken and could barely hide it from his brother's keen eye.

"Just now Dandelion told me she was telling him strange things," Kain shared. "That she's grown and capable of fighting for herself and wouldn't hold back."

"What do you make of it, though?" Geralt asked. "What happened to her?"

"Oh, Geralt, had I known..." Kain looked repentant and pained. "I shouldn't have pushed her away."

"Stop it, it's not your fault."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

Geralt exhaled impatiently. "She killed the Riders before you had that talk. She took out the bank guards because they were a threat to Yennefer and her."

Kain winced and shook his head, "We'll have to deal with this later. Right now you need a solution."

Geralt's face darkened. "I do. Think djinn would suffice?"

"Their magic is chaotic and unpredictable, and in theory, it could be possible for a djinn to create that mayhem. But would Philippa accept it? She probably knows it's not a djinn."

Geralt scoffed, irked by the thought. "Had she known, why hiring me to investigate?"

"Getting rid of Yennefer is beneficial to her and the Lodge. Especially if it looks like they had nothing to do with it and tried to help exonerate her. So they get to console Ciri and pull her to their side."

"Hmm. I'm not helping with it. But djinn was my only option."

"Boys!" Triss emerged from the tavern. "Are you coming back?"

"Yes, another moment," Geralt nodded. She observed them with a suspicious curiosity and was reluctant to leave, but did.

"There might be another option," Kain said, gaining Geralt's attention. "You need to speak to someone who knows more about strange magic than we do."

Geralt cursed quietly.

They went back inside where Dandelion and the two women were laughing over something.

It took Ciri no more than thirty minutes to locate Philippa's lodgings, allowing her earlier visions to guide her.

It was a nice building not too far from St. Gregory's bridge, a place where most of the residents had their pockets lined with money and a finer status than those who lived down south in the city.

With the streets mostly empty, Ciri didn't hesitate to teleport upstairs onto the balcony. The doors were open, the delicate curtains within gently swaying to the breeze.

A bedroom lay beyond. One illuminated dimly with a dozen candles. It was dark and gloomy, but in that luxurious sense sorceresses seemed to enjoy. Velvet and silk. Exquisite furniture and art.

Atop the ornately carved bed were two women. One of them, the brunette hovering over a redhead, was clearly Philippa. The other, Ciri had no knowledge of. She quickly became introduced to the redhead's naked body, however, as she was splayed out in all her nude glory beneath Philippa's skilled hands.

The sorceress herself was still fully dressed.

Ciri watched them, saying nothing. It took almost a full twenty seconds before Philippa turned in her direction.

"I see your witcher failed to teach you manners," Philippa commented as her gaze landed on Ciri in the doorway. "Don't you knock?"

She didn't truly seem offended. In fact, she appeared quite amused.

The woman beneath Philippa gasped and quickly moved to cover herself with her discarded clothing, cheeks flushing with shame.

"Get out," Ciri told her.

Philippa nodded, gesturing for the woman to heed Ciri's command. She scrambled off the bed, dressing as she went, her eyes wide with confusion and embarrassment as she rushed from the room.

Philippa moved to sit on the foot of the bed, arms propped behind her as she watched Ciri.

Ciri stepped inside, eyeing the bedroom with mild curiosity. There was no doubt whoever had paid for the apartment had a great amount of coin to spare.

"You're fucking him again," Ciri said.

A coy smile made Philippa's lips curve ever so slightly. "Turns out Dijkstra still has some use." She admired the pretty room with a pleased sigh before turning more somber. "Never for free, though. There is always a price. You should remember that, Cirilla."

Ciri wasn't sure what that meant and did not feel like asking. She had not come here for a simple chat.

Philippa knew that, too. "What can I do for you?" the sorceress asked.

"The banks," Ciri began, turning to face the woman. "You're inclined to blame Yennefer."

"It is not what I want," Philippa said, her tone sincere, even if her eyes said something entirely different. "But unfortunately, evidence and suspicions are stacking up against her."

She stood, smoothing the skirt of her dress.

"But you shouldn't worry, Ciri. That is why Geralt has come. To prove her innocence."

"And if he fails?" Ciri asked. "What then?"

Philippa was silent for a moment, contemplating. "We will do everything in our power to save her. She may not be one of us anymore but I know how much she means to you."

Lies. All lies. Did Philippa truly think Ciri that stupid? That naive?

She wished then she was able to do what Avallac'h had suggested.

Implant memories and thoughts. Change what already lay within the mind.

But she didn't. Would not even know how to start. There was only one logical thing to do, one that had burned with desire inside Ciri ever since she'd caught Philippa's scent.

She was on the sorceress in a split second, the momentum of her power easily knocking Philippa back onto the bed. Ciri straddled Philippa's thighs, one hand wrapping around her slender throat.

"I want to make something very clear," Ciri hissed in a dangerous tone, tightening her hold for emphasis. "If anyone in my family comes to harm because of your political ploys, if Yennefer is placed upon that scaffold, whether or not it was you or someone else entirely who gave the order, I will destroy you, Philippa."

Philippa stared up at Ciri with what could only be described as surprise, trepidation, and a spiking curiosity. Ciri could feel the rapid rhythm of her pulse against the palm of her hand. But the sorceress did not speak, nor try to fight. She simply watched Ciri as though she was the most interesting thing the enchantress had seen all day.

"I will pick you all apart – you, Fringilla, Margarita, and anyone else who still wants to be associated with you at that point," Ciri continued, a jolt of arousal hitting between her thighs as she continued to press Philippa down into the mattress.

She unsheathed her dagger with her free hand and brought the tip perilously close to Philippa's right eye. "I will pluck those pretty new eyes of yours from their sockets and feed them to your lover."

Philippa's hand lifted to wrap around Ciri's wrist, gently but insistently, and Ciri flinched at the contact as if it had doused her with a bucket of cold water.

She pushed off the sorceress with a scowl, slipped her dagger back in its holster. "Fix this, Philippa," she uttered before vanishing into thin air.

Philippa sat up slowly and absentmindedly rubbed her throat, a look of astonishment creasing her beautiful face.