“This is a serious matter, your Majesty. The risk is great. That is why you must listen: the princess should always wear a sapphire around her neck, or better, an inclusion, on a silver chain. Day and night.”

“What is an inclusion?”

“A sapphire with a pocket of air trapped within the stone. Aside from that, every now and then you should burn juniper, broom and aspen in the fireplace of her chamber.”

Foltest grew pensive. “I thank you for your advice, witcher. I will pay heed if—And now listen to me carefully. If you find the case is hopeless, kill her. If you undo the spell but the girl is not… normal. If you have a shadow of a doubt as to whether you have been entirely successful, kill her. Do not worry, you have nothing to fear from me. I’ll shout at you in front of others, banish you from the palace and the town, nothing more, Of course I won’t give you the reward, but maybe you’ll manage to negotiate something from you know who.”

They were both quiet for a while.

“Geralt.” For the first time Foltest called the witcher by his name.

“Yes.”

“How much truth is there in the rumor that the child is as she is because Adda was my sister?”

“Not much. A spell has to be cast, they don’t cast themselves. But I think your congress with your sister was the reason the spell was cast, and this is the result.”

“As I thought. That is what some of the Knowing Ones said, although not all of them. Geralt? Where do such things come from? Spells, magic?”

“I don’t know, your Majesty. Knowing Ones study the causes of such phenomena. For us witchers the knowledge that concentrated will can cause such phenomena is enough. That and the knowledge to fight them.”

“And kill them?”

“Usually. Besides, that is what we’re usually paid for. Only a few demand the reversal of spells, your Majesty. As a rule, people simply want to defend themselves from danger. If the monster has men on its conscience then revenge can also come into play.”

The king got up, took a few paces across the chamber, and stopped in front of the witcher’s sword hanging on the wall.

“With this?” he asked, not looking at Geralt.

“No. That is for men.”

“So I heard. Do you know what, Geralt? I’m going to the crypt with you.”

“Out of the question.”

Foltest turned, his eyes glinted. “Do you know, sorcerer, that I have not seen her? Neither after she was born, nor later. I was afraid. I may never see her, am I not right? At least I have the right to see my daughter while you’re murdering her.”

“I repeat, it’s out of the question. It is certain death. For me as well as you. If my attention, my will falters—No, your Majesty.”

Foltest turned away, started toward the door. For a moment Geralt thought he would leave without a word, without a parting gesture, but the king stopped and looked at him.