There was a brightness billowing over their camp that the snorting horses took fright at. There was something inside the brightness, something like a dark interior, something shaped like a castle hall with a black colonnade. Geralt could see a large table around which sat ten shapes. Ten women.

He could hear words. Snatches of words.

…bring her to us, Yennefer. We order you.

You may not order me. You may not order her! You have no power over her!

I’m not afraid of them, Mamma. They can’t do anything to me. If they want, I’ll stand before them.

…is meeting the first of June, at the new moon. We order you both to appear. We warn you that we shall punish disobedience.

I shall come right away, Philippa. Let her stay with him a little longer. Let him not be alone. Just a few days. I shall come immediately. As a hostage of goodwill.

Comply with my request, Philippa. Please.

The brightness pulsated. The horses snorted wildly, banging their hooves.

The Witcher awoke. This time for real.

The following day Yennefer confirmed his fears. After a long conversation conducted with Ciri in private.

‘I’m going away,’ she said dryly and without any preliminaries. ‘I must. Ciri’s staying with you. For some time at least. Then I’ll summon her and she’ll also go away. And then we’ll all meet again.’

He nodded. Reluctantly. He’d had enough of silent assent. Of agreeing to everything she communicated to him, with everything she decided. But he nodded. He loved her, when all was said and done.

‘It’s an imperative that cannot be opposed,’ she said more gently. ‘Neither can it be postponed. It simply has to be taken care of. I’m doing it for you, in any case. For your good. And especially for Ciri’s good.’

He nodded.

‘When we meet again,’ she said even more gently, ‘I’ll make up for everything, Geralt. The silence, too. There’s been too much silence, too much silence between us. And now, instead of nodding, hug me and kiss me.’

He did as he was asked. He loved her, when all was said and done.

‘Where to now?’ Ciri asked dryly, a short while after Yennefer had vanished in the flash of the oval teleporter.

‘The river…’ Geralt cleared his throat, fighting the pain behind his breastbone that was taking his breath away. ‘The river we’re riding up is the Sansretour. It leads to a country I must show you. For it’s a fairy-tale country.’

Ciri turned gloomy. He saw her clench her fists.

‘Every fairy tale ends badly,’ she drawled. ‘And there aren’t any fairy-tale lands.’

‘Yes there are. You’ll see.’

It was the day after the full moon when they saw Toussaint bathed in greenery and sunshine. When they saw the hills, the slopes and the vineyards. The roofs of the castles’ towers glistening after a morning shower.

The view didn’t disappoint. It was stunning. It always was.