Everything. He knew.

“Your wish,” she whispered, her lips very near his ear. “I don’t know whether such a wish can ever be fulfilled. I don’t know whether there’s such a Force in Nature that could fulfill such a wish. But if there is, then you’ve condemned yourself. Condemned yourself to me.”

He interrupted her with a kiss, an embrace, a touch, caresses and then with everything, his whole being, his every thought, his only thought, everything, everything, everything. They broke the silence with sighs and the rustle of clothing strewn on the floor. They broke the silence very gently, lazily, and they were considerate and very thorough. They were caring and tender and, although neither quite knew what caring and tenderness were, they succeeded because they very much wanted to. And they were in no hurry whatsoever. The whole world had ceased to exist for a brief moment, but to them, it seemed like a whole eternity.

And then the world started to exist again; but it existed very differently.

“Geralt?”

“Mmm?”

“What now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nor do I. Because, you see, I… I don’t know whether it was worth condemning yourself to me. I don’t know how—Wait, what are you doing…? I wanted to tell you—”

“Yennefer… Yen.”

“Yen,” she repeated, giving in to him completely. “Nobody’s ever called me that. Say it again.”

“Yen.”

“Geralt.”

XVII

It had stopped raining. A rainbow appeared over Rinde and cut the sky with a broken, colored arc. It looked as if it grew straight from the tavern’s ruined roof.

“By all the gods,” muttered Dandilion, “what silence… They’re dead, I tell you. Either they’ve killed each other or my djinn’s finished them off.”

“We should go and see,” said Vratimir, wiping his brow with his crumpled hat. “They might be wounded. Should I call a doctor?”

“An undertaker, more like it,” said Krepp. “I know that witch, and that witcher’s got the devil in his eyes too. There’s no two ways about it; we’ve got to start digging two pits in the cemetery. I’d advise sticking an aspen stake into that Yennefer before burying her.”

“What silence,” repeated Dandilion. “Beams were flying all over the place a moment ago and now it’s as quiet as a grave.”

They approached the tavern ruins very cautiously and slowly.

“Let the carpenter get the coffins ready,” said Krepp. “Tell the carpenter—”

“Quiet,” interrupted Errdil. “I heard something. What was it, Chireadan?”

The elf brushed the hair off his pointed ear and tilted his head.

“I’m not sure… Let’s get closer.”

“Yennefer’s alive,” said Dandilion suddenly, straining his musical ear. “I heard her moan. There, she moaned again!”

“Uhuh,” confirmed Errdil. “I heard it, too. She moaned. She must really be suffering. Chireadan, where are you going? Careful!”

The elf backed away from the shattered window through which he had carefully peeped.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said quietly. “Let’s not disturb them.”

“They’re both alive? Chireadan? What are they doing?”

“Let’s get out of here,” repeated the elf. “Let’s leave them alone for a bit. Let them stay there, Yennefer, Geralt and his last wish. Let’s wait in a tavern; they’ll join us before long. Both of them.”