The megascope's surface rippled once, then resolved into Yennefer's image, sharper this time than the last call, the background behind her suggesting a proper room rather than a road-side tent. Her hair was pinned back, sleeves rolled, and there were dark smudges under her eyes that she hadn't bothered to charm away.
"You're up late," she said by way of greeting.
"So are you," Seb said.
"I don't sleep much when I'm working." She folded her arms. "Which I have been. Sit down, both of you, this isn't short."
Ciri pulled a chair close and sat. Seb stayed standing, leaning on the back of the second chair, arms crossed.
Yennefer got straight to it. "Emhyr did hire Bonhart. Through one of his intermediaries a man in the court, someone with the connections to reach that kind of contractor quietly." She paused. "But he called the contract off. Months ago."
Seb's brow furrowed. "Why?"
"Because Bonhart is a butcher, and Emhyr knew it." Yennefer's mouth twisted slightly. "The Emperor may be many things, but he does not want his daughter dead. He wanted her found. Brought back. He was told Bonhart was the kind of asset that could locate anyone, and when he learned exactly what manner of man Bonhart is.. the collection, the trophies, he pulled the leash. He deemed the man too unstable and too unpredictable, so he didn't want a man like that anywhere near her."
"Then someone else picked up the slack," Ciri said flatly.
Yen nodded. "Someone else hired him for the same purpose. Same target. But almost certainly not the same intentions."
Seb's jaw tightened. "Which means Emhyr lost control of his own house. There's a faction inside Nilfgaard that wants her, dead if possible."
"Or," Yennefer said, "someone who knows how his court works well enough to move inside it without being seen. Someone with reach, resources, and a reason to want Ciri specifically." She paused. "Someone familiar with sorcery. That's my read."
Seb's eyes narrowed. "A sorcerer or sorceress."
"Yes."
"Can you tell who?"
Yen exhaled. "I have a few names in mind. Including Philippa... she's vanished entirely, and that alone worries me more than anything else on the list. But I can't point fingers yet. Not with what I have. And that's why.." she paused, choosing the words, "..I'm going to let the Emperor know about this."
Seb straightened. "Do we really need to involve the Emperor?"
"We don't have a choice." Yennefer's voice sharpened. "He is already involved. He knows Ciri is at Kaer Morhen. He knows she's being hunted. If I go back to him with this, that someone in or around his own court is trying to finish what he called off, he'll turn his own intelligence apparatus on it. That's a thousand eyes I can't field on my own." She looked at them both. "Do I trust Emhyr? No. Do I trust the reach he commands? Yes. This is bigger than the two of you picking off hunters one at a time."
Ciri met Seb's eyes briefly, then nodded. "Fine. Do whatever you feel is right, Yen."
"Good." Yennefer's image relaxed a fraction. "Stay safe. Both of you. I'll get to the bottom of it."
"Thanks, Yen," Seb said.
The light folded in, and the image was gone. For a moment the room was quiet again, only the fire moving.
Then Seb turned to Ciri.
"I don't like sitting in this keep waiting," he said. "Not anymore. First Tir Na Lia, and then Bonhart, now some unknown sorceress or sorcerer with court backing.. every time they come to us, we're standing on the one wall we didn't choose." He shook his head. "I say we head out together this winter. Leave Kaer Morhen, both of us. They won't expect us out there. We can clear this mess ourselves, and if the Hunt comes looking, they'll have to chase us instead of marching on the keep."
Ciri considered it, then pushed back the obvious objection. "What if Eredin attacks this place while we're away? Uses them as bait to draw us back."
Seb almost smiled. "You're really underestimating Geralt and the rest. And you're forgetting something." He tilted his head toward the window, toward the courtyard below where the night was cold and clear. "I've modified the Fire Elementals. They're stronger than they were. They're anchored to my flames now, properly. Even the white frost doesn't put them out, it burns through it."
Ciri's eyebrows lifted. "You didn't mention that."
"I didn't need to bother you with that." He shrugged. "Kaer Morhen isn't the soft target it looks like. If Eredin comes here, he'll wish he hadn't."
Ciri was quiet for a moment. Then a slow smile spread across her face that reached her eyes. "I always wanted to take the Path with you."
Seb's expression didn't change. "We're not doing this for fun."
"Nothing's stopping us from having fun on the road," she said, entirely undeterred. "Let's go to Kovir, or Novigrad. Or we should check on Dandelion and Zoltan, see if they're still in Vizima."
Seb sighed. "Ciri.."
"I'm not going with you if you're going to remind me every five minutes of our objective." She leaned back, arms crossed, eyes bright. "I need some distractions. Real ones."
"Distractions get people killed."
"Distractions keep people sane." She held his gaze. "Dandelion and Zoltan were with you in Rivia. You want to know they're all right. So do I. It's not a waste of time to check."
Seb held the look for a long beat. Then he let out a breath through his nose. "Fine. Dandelion and Zoltan. But Vizima's a problem, I'm a problem there. You do remember what happened in Rivia. Half the North thinks I killed its kings alongside Philippa."
"Right." Ciri's expression darkened for a moment. "That bitch Philippa."
"I'll disguise myself." He glanced toward the corner of the room, where his two swords lay against the wall. "Once we are there, I shouldn't go in with two swords on my back. That alone marks a witcher. One's bad enough."
"Good." Ciri stood. "Then we should tell uncle Vesemir and Geralt."
Seb nodded slowly. "We should. Though I've got a feeling Geralt's not going to like it."
Ciri was already heading for the door. "He never likes anything, He'll come around."
Seb followed her out, pulling the door shut behind them.
.
.
.
.
They found the two of them where they always were early in the morning, the main hall, fire banked low, a bottle between them on the long table. Vesemir had his feet up. Geralt was working a whetstone slowly along the edge of his silver sword, the sound of it steady and rhythmic.
Both of them looked up when the door opened.
"Ah," Vesemir said, reading their faces in one glance. "That's the look."
"What look?" Ciri said.
"The look that comes with news." He gestured at the bench across from them. "Sit down. Geralt, put the sword away, this is clearly not a sword conversation."
Geralt set the blade down on the table, handle toward him, and waited.
Seb and Ciri sat. Ciri took the lead, because Seb had known she would she'd never been able to make anyone else deliver her news for her.
"We're leaving," she said. "For the winter. Together. The two of us."
The fire popped. Vesemir's cup stopped halfway to his mouth.
Geralt didn't move at all. That was worse.
"Where," he said.
"Wherever the trail goes. We don't know yet, maybe Kovir, maybe Novigrad." Ciri set her jaw. "We're going to find out who hired Bonhart. Yennefer confirmed Emhyr called the bounty off months ago, which means someone else picked it up after him. Someone with reach. Until we know who that is, none of us are safe, and none of us are fixed, sitting here watching the door."
"Seb's Fire Elementals are anchored now. They burn through frost you have seen them work." Ciri met his eyes. "And I'm not going to spend another winter behind these walls waiting for something to come to me. I've done that. I've done it my whole life. I'm done with it, we will clear this mess once and for all, so I can be truly free."
Vesemir set his cup down slowly, both hands around it, and looked at her for a long time.
"I'm not going to tell you it's a bad idea," he said finally. "You're right that sitting still doesn't win fights. It never has."
"Vesemir..." Geralt started.
"But I am going to tell you both something, and I want it heard properly." Vesemir's voice didn't rise, which somehow made it land harder. "Strongest person in the room isn't the same as safest. I've buried witchers who could have flattened this keep with their sign magic, killed by a drowner in a shallow creek, killed by a peasant with a pitchfork and a good angle. Strength gets you through the fight you see. It doesn't get you through the one you don't." He looked between them. "You two can survive almost anything. That's not the same as being unhurt. And you can never be too careful. Say it back to me so I know you heard."
"We heard," Seb said.
Geralt's jaw had gone tight. He stood up, walked around the table, and stopped in front of Ciri with his arms crossed.
"No."
Ciri sighed. "Geralt."
"No. Not the two of you, not alone, not in winter, not while I don't know who's paying for assassins." He looked at Seb. "You were in Rivia when the kings died. You're still wanted for it. You walk into a city and someone with a grudge recognizes you, and that's the end of it, you'll be in trouble even if you can butcher everyone."
Seb didn't flinch. "That's why I'm not walking in with two swords on my back. I know what I look like. I'll handle it."
"That's not the point.."
"Then say the actual point." Ciri stood up, and even though Geralt had six inches and a hundred pounds on her, she got in front of him anyway, chin up, eyes hard. "You don't want me to go. Say it plainly. Don't dress it up as strategy or protection!"
Geralt stared at her.
"Yes, I don't want you to go," he said.
"I know." Her voice softened, just slightly. "But I'm not the same girl you carried out of Cintra anymore. You know that."
"I know exactly what you are." His voice was rough now. "That's what scares me."
Vesemir cleared his throat from behind him. "Geralt."
"Don't."
"You're being soft."
Geralt turned. "I'm being soft?"
Vesemir raised his eyebrows, one slow lift, and took a long drink. "Yes."
Ciri huffed a breath that was almost a laugh. Seb kept his face still, because he understood the exact kind of storm he was standing in and had no intention of being struck.
Geralt opened his mouth, closed it, and rubbed a hand down his face. When he dropped it, he looked tired, properly tired.
"Fine," he said.
"Fine?" Ciri repeated.
"Fine. You go." He pointed at her. "But you will come back. If the trail goes somewhere you can't handle, you come back. That's the deal."
"Deal," Ciri said.
"And you." He turned to Seb. His eyes were flat and yellow and completely serious. "I'm not going to say a word to you about whether you can protect her. Because I know you can. You did it in Tir Na Lia, you did it here, you've done it every time." A pause, then he said quieter, "Protect her."
Seb held his gaze. "I will."
/-\
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