“And do any trees still stand there? For you’ve cut down everything, nothing but bare clearings remain.”

“Just look what a know-it-all she is, a mouthy stripling. What’s a forest for if not to be cut down, eh? What we felled, we felled, what remains, remains. But the woodcutters fear to enter Magpie Forest, such a horror is there. You’ll see for yourself if you get that far. You’ll piss in your pants from fear!”

“I’d better be off then.”

Vyrva, Guado, Sibell, Brugge, Casterfurt, Mortara, Ivalo, Dorian, Anchor, Gors Velen.

I’m Nimue verch Wledyr ap Gwyn.

I’m headed for Gors Velen. To Aretuza, to the school of sorceresses on the Isle of Thanedd.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“You’ve made a pretty mess, Pudlorak!” Javil Fysh spat furiously. “You’ve got us in a pretty tangle! We’ve been wandering around these offshoots for an hour! I’ve heard about these bogs, I’ve heard evil things about them! People and ships perish here! Where’s the river? Where’s the shipping channel? Why—”

“Shut your trap, by thunder!” said the captain in annoyance. “Where’s the shipping channel, where’s the shipping lane? Up my arse, that’s where! So clever, are you? Be my guest, now’s a chance to distinguish yourself! There’s another fork! Where should we sail, smart aleck? To port, as the current carries us? Or perhaps you’ll order us starboard?”

Fysh snorted and turned his back on him. Pudlorak grabbed the wheel and steered the cutter into the left branch.

The leadsman gave a cry. Then a moment later Kevenard van Vliet yelled, but much louder.

“Away from the bank, Pudlorak!” screamed Petru Cobbin. “Hard-a-starboard! Away from the bank! Away from the bank!”

“What is it?”

“Serpents! Don’t you see them? Seeerpents!”

Addario Bach swore.

The left bank was teeming with snakes. The reptiles were writhing among the reeds and riverside weeds, crawling over half-submerged trunks, dangling down, hissing, from overhanging branches. Geralt recognised cottonmouths, rattlesnakes, jararacas, boomslangs, green bush vipers, puff adders, arietes, black mambas and others he didn’t know.

The entire crew of the Prophet fled in panic from the port side, yelling at various pitches. Kevenard van Vliet ran astern and squatted down, trembling all over, behind the Witcher. Pudlorak turned the wheel and the cutter began to change course. Geralt placed his hand on Pudlorak’s shoulder.

“No,” he said. “Hold the course, as you were. Don’t go near the starboard bank.”

“But the snakes…” Pudlorak pointed at the branch they were approaching, hung all over with hissing reptiles. “They’ll drop onto the deck—”

“There are no snakes! Hold the course. Away from the starboard bank.”