“Gentlemen.” Pinety raised a hand, silencing the Witcher, who was preparing to make a rejoinder. “This isn’t a session of the town council, so don’t try to outdo one another in vices and pathologies. It’s probably more judicious to admit that no one is perfect, everyone has their vices, and even celestial creatures are no strangers to pathologies. Apparently. Let’s concentrate on the problem before us and which demands a solution.”

“Goetia is prohibited,” Pinety began after a long silence, “because it’s an extremely dangerous practice. Sadly, the simple evocation of a demon doesn’t demand great knowledge, nor great magical abilities. It’s enough to possess a necromantic grimoire, and there are plenty of them on the black market. It is, however, difficult to control a demon once invoked without knowledge or skills. A self-taught goetic practitioner can think himself lucky if the invoked demon simply breaks away, frees itself and flees. Many of them end up torn to shreds. Thus, invoking demons or any other creatures from elemental planes and para-elements was prohibited and had the threat of severe punishments imposed on it. There exists a system of control that guarantees the observance of the prohibition. However, there is a place that was excluded from that control.”

“Rissberg Castle. Of course.”

“Of course. Rissberg cannot be controlled. For the system of goetia control I was talking about was created here, after all. As a result of experiments carried out here. Thanks to tests carried out here the system is still being perfected. Other research is being conducted here, and other experiments. Of a wide variety. Various things and phenomena are studied here, Witcher. Various things are done here. Not always legal and not always moral. The end justifies the means. That slogan could hang over the gate to Rissberg.”

“And beneath that slogan ought to be added: ‘What happens at Rissberg stays at Rissberg,’ ” added Tzara. “Experiments are carried out here under supervision. Everything is monitored.”

“Clearly not everything,” Geralt stated sourly. “Because something escaped.”

“Something escaped.” Pinety was theatrically calm. “There are currently eighteen masters working at the castle. And on top of that, well over four score apprentices and novices. Most of the latter are only a few formalities away from the title of ‘master.’ We fear… We have reason to suppose before that someone from that large group wanted to play at goetia.”

“Don’t you know who?”

“We do not,” Harlan Tzara replied without batting an eye. But the Witcher knew he was lying.