He looked around. He was not in the small room where he had last seen Yennefer and Dandilion but in the large communal hall of Errdil’s renovated tavern.

He saw her. She was kneeling between tables, bent over the magical sphere. The sphere was aflame with a strong, milky light, so bright, enough to shine red through her fingers. The light from the sphere illuminated a scene, flickering and swaying, but clear. Geralt saw the small room with a star and pentagram traced on the floor, blazing with white heat. He saw many-colored, creaking, fiery lines shooting from the pentagram and disappearing up over the roof toward the furious roar of the captured djinn.

Yennefer saw him, jumped up and raised her hand.

“No!” he shouted, “don’t do this! I want to help you!”

“Help?” She snorted. “You?”

“Me.”

“In spite of what I did to you?”

“In spite of it.”

“Interesting. But not important. I don’t need your help. Get out of here.”

“No.”

“Get out of here!” she yelled, grimacing ominously. “It’s getting dangerous! The whole thing’s getting out of control; do you understand? I can’t master him. I don’t get it, but the scoundrel isn’t weakening at all! I caught him once he’d fulfilled the troubadour’s third wish and I should have him in the sphere by now. But he’s not getting any weaker! Dammit, it looks as if he’s getting stronger! But I’m still going to get the better of him. I’ll break—”

“You won’t break him, Yennefer. He’ll kill you.”

“It’s not so easy to kill me—”

She broke off. The whole roof of the tavern suddenly flared up. The vision projected by the sphere dissolved in the brightness. A huge fiery rectangle appeared on the ceiling. The sorceress cursed as she lifted her hands, and sparks gushed from her fingers.

“Run, Geralt!”

“What’s happening, Yennefer?”

“He’s located me…” She groaned, flushing red with effort. “He wants to get at me. He’s creating his own portal to get in. He can’t break loose but he’ll get in by the portal. I can’t—I can’t stop him!”

“Yennefer—”

“Don’t distract me! I’ve got to concentrate… Geralt, you’ve got to get out of here. I’ll open my portal, a way for you to escape. Be careful; it’ll be a random portal. I haven’t got time or strength for any other… I don’t know where you’ll end up… but you’ll be safe… Get ready—”

A huge portal on the ceiling suddenly flared blindingly, expanded and grew deformed. Out of the nothingness appeared the shapeless mouth already known to the witcher, snapping its drooping lips and howling loudly enough to pierce his ears. Yennefer jumped, waved her arms and shouted an incantation. A net of light shot from her palm and fell on the djinn. It gave a roar and sprouted long paws which shot toward the sorceress’s throat like attacking cobras. Yennefer didn’t back away.

Geralt threw himself toward her, pushed her aside and sheltered her. The djinn, tangled in the magical light, sprang from the portal like a cork from a bottle and threw himself at them, opening his jaws. The witcher clenched his teeth and hit him with the Sign without any apparent effect. But the genie didn’t attack. He hung in the air just below the ceiling, swelled to an impressive size, goggled at Geralt with his pale eyes and roared. There was something in that roar, something like a command, an order. He didn’t understand what it was.