Blood of Elves

'Only I don't know,' the Enchantress pinched her lips together, 'who gave you permission to describe my internal organs. How did it go? "Her heart, as though a jewel, adorned her neck. Hard as if of diamond made, and as a diamond so unfeeling, sharper than obsidian, cutting-" Did you make that up yourself? Or perhaps…?'

Her lips quivered, twisted.

'… or perhaps you listened to someone's confidences and grievances?'

'Hmm…' Dandilion cleared his throat and veered away from the dangerous subject. 'Tell me, Yennefer, when did you last see Geralt?'

'A long time ago.'

'After the war?'

After the war…' Yennefer's voice changed a little. 'No, I never saw him after the war. For a long time… I didn't see anybody. Well, back to the point, Poet. I am a little surprised to discover that you do not know anything, you have not heard anything and that, in spite of this, someone searching for information picked you out to stretch over a beam. Doesn't that worry you?'

'It does.'

'Listen to me,' she said sharply, banging her tumbler against the table. 'Listen carefully. Strike that ballad from your repertoire. Do not sing it again.'

'Are you talking about-'

'You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. Sing about the war against Nilfgaard. Sing about Geralt and me, you'll neither harm nor help anyone in the process, you'll make nothing any better or worse. But do not sing about the Lion Cub of Cintra.'

She glanced around to check if any of the few customers at this hour were eavesdropping, and waited until the lass clearing up had returned to the kitchen.

And do try to avoid one-to-one meetings with people you don't know,' she said quietly. 'People who "forget" to introduce themselves by conveying greetings from a mutual acquaintance. Understand?'

He looked at her surprised. Yennefer smiled.

'Greetings from Dijkstra, Dandilion.'

Now the bard glanced around timidly. His astonishment must have been evident and his expression amusing because the sorceress allowed herself a quite derisive grimace.

'While we are on the subject,' she whispered, leaning across the table, 'Dijkstra is asking for a report. You're on your way back from Verden and he's interested in hearing what's being said at King Ervyll's court. He asked me to convey that this time your report should be to the point, detailed and under no circumstances in verse. Prose, Dandilion. Prose.'

The poet swallowed and nodded. He remained silent, pondering the question.

But the enchantress anticipated him. 'Difficult times are approaching,' she said quietly. 'Difficult and dangerous. A time of change is coming. It would be a shame to grow old with the uncomfortable conviction that one had done nothing to ensure that these changes are for the better. Don't you agree?'

Tie agreed with a nod and cleared his throat. 'Yennefer?'

'I'm listening, Poet.'

"Those men in the pigsty… I would like to know who they were, what they wanted, who sent them. You killed them both, but rumour has it that you can draw information even from the dead.'

'And doesn't rumour also have it that necromancy is forbidden, by edict of the Chapter? Let it go, Dandilion. Those thugs probably didn't know much anyway. The one who escaped… Hmm… He's another matter.'

'Rience. He was a wizard, wasn't he?'

'Yes. But not a very proficient one.'

'Yet he managed to escape from you. I saw how he did it – he teleported, didn't he? Doesn't that prove anything?'

'Indeed it does. That someone helped him. Rience had neither the time nor the strength to open an oval portal suspended in the air. A portal like that is no joke. It's clear that someone else opened it. Someone far more powerful. That's why I was afraid to chase him, not knowing where I would land. But I sent some pretty hot stuff after him. He's going to need a lot of spells and some effective burn elixirs, and will remain marked for some time.'

'Maybe you will be interested to hear that he was a Nilfgaardian.'

'You think so?' Yennefer sat up and with a swift movement pulled the stiletto from her pocket and turned it in her palm. 'A lot of people carry Nilfgaardian knives now. They're comfortable and handy – they can even be hidden in a cleavage-'

'It's not the knife. When he was questioning me he used the term "battle for Cintra", "conquest of the town" or something along those lines. I've never heard anyone describe those events like that. For us, it has always been a massacre. The Massacre of Cintra. No one refers to it by any other name.'

The magician raised her hand, scrutinised her nails. 'Clever, Dandilion. You have a sensitive ear.'

'It's a professional hazard.'

'I wonder which profession you have in mind?' She smiled coquettishly. 'But thank you for the information. It was valuable.'

'Let it be,' he replied with a smile, 'my contribution to making changes for the better. Tell me, Yennefer, why is Nilfgaard so interested in Geralt and the girl from Cintra?'

'Don't stick your nose into that business.' She suddenly turned serious. 'I said you were to forget you ever heard of Calanthe's granddaughter.'

'Indeed, you did. But I'm not searching for a subject for a ballad.'

'What the hell are you searching for then? Trouble?'

'Let's take it,' he said quietly, resting his chin on his clasped hands and looking the enchantress in the eye. 'Let's take it that Geralt did, in fact, find and rescue the child. Let's take it that he finally came to believe in the power of destiny, and took the child with him. Where to? Rience tried to force it out of me with torture. But you know, Yennefer. You know where the witcher is hiding.'

'I do.'

'And you know how to get there.'

'I know that too.'

'Don't you think he should be warned? Warned that the likes of Rience are looking for him and the little girl? I would go, but I honestly don't know where it is… That place whose name I prefer not to say…'

'Get to the point, Dandilion.'

'If you know where Geralt is, you ought to go and warn him. You owe him that, Yennefer. There was, after all, something between you.'

'Yes,' she acknowledged coldly. 'There was something between us. That's why I know him a bit. He does not like having help imposed on him. And if he was in need of it he would seek it from those he could trust. A year has gone by since those events and I… I've not had any news from him. And as for our debt, I owe him exactly as much as he owes me. No more and no less.'

'So I'll go then.' He raised his head high. 'Tell me-'

'I won't,' she interrupted. 'Your cover's blown, Dandilion. They might come after you again; the less you know the better. Vanish from here. Go to Redania, to Dijkstra and Filippa Eilhart, stick to Vizimir's court. And I warn you once more: forget the Lion Cub of Cintra. Forget about Ciri. Pretend you have never heard the name. Do as I ask. I wouldn't like anything bad to happen to you. I like you too much, owe you too much-'

'You've said that already. What do you owe me, Yennefer?'

The sorceress turned her head away, did not say anything for a while.

'You travelled with him,' she said finally. 'Thanks to you he was not alone. You were a friend to him. You were with him.'

The bard lowered his eyes.

'He didn't get much from it,' he muttered. 'He didn't get much from our friendship. He had little but trouble because of me. He constantly had to get me out of some scrape… help me…'

She leaned across the table, put her hand on his and squeezed it hard without saying anything. Her eyes held regret.

'Go to Redania,' she repeated after a moment. 'To Tretogor. Stay in Dijkstra's and Filippa's care. Don't play at being a hero. You have got yourself mixed up in a dangerous affair, Dandilion.'

'I've noticed.' He grimaced and rubbed his aching shoulder. 'And that is precisely why I believe Geralt should be warned. You are the only one who knows where to look for him. You know the way. I guess you used to be… a guest there…?'