‘Do not listen to her!’ yelled Philippa. ‘Do not listen to that medium! She’s a tool, an unthinking tool… Who do you serve, Yennefer? Who instructed you to bring that monster here?’

‘I did,’ said Tissaia de Vries.

‘What happened next? What happened to the girl? To Yennefer?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Keira, closing her eyes. ‘Tissaia suddenly lifted the blockade. With one spell. I’d never seen anything like it in my life. She stunned and blocked us, then freed Vilgefortz and the others… And then Francesca opened the entrance to the cellars and suddenly Garstang was swarming with Scoia’tael. They were being led by a freak in armour wearing a winged, Nilfgaardian helmet. Helped by that character with the mark on his face. He knew how to cast spells. And shield himself with magic…’

‘Rience.’

‘Perhaps. I don’t know. It was hot… The ceiling caved in. Spells and arrows were flying everywhere; it was a massacre… Fercart was among their dead, Drithelm and Radcliffe among ours. Marquard, Rejean and Bianca d’Este were killed… Triss Merigold was hurt. Sabrina was wounded… When Tissaia saw their bodies she understood her mistake, tried to protect us, tried to calm Vilgefortz and Terranova… But Vilgefortz ridiculed and laughed at her. Then she lost her head and fled. Oh, Tissaia… So many dead…’

‘What happened to the girl and to Yennefer?’

‘I don’t know,’ said the sorceress, coughing and spitting blood. She was breathing very shallowly and with obvious difficulty. ‘I passed out after one of the explosions. The one with the scar and his elves overpowered me. Terranova beat me black and blue and then threw me out of a window.’

‘It isn’t just your leg, Keira. You’ve got some broken ribs.’

‘Don’t leave me.’

‘I have to. I’ll come back for you.’

‘Yeah, right.’

At first, there was only shimmering chaos, the pulsing of shadows, a confusion of dark and light, and a choir of incoherent voices emerging from the abyss. Suddenly the voices became stronger and, from all around, the screaming and the roaring exploded. The brightness amongst the darkness became a fire consuming the tapestries, seeming to shoot streams of sparks from the walls, the balustrades and the columns supporting the ceiling.

Ciri choked on the smoke and realised it was no longer a dream.

She tried to stand, propping herself up on her arms. Her hand came to rest on something wet, and she looked down. She was kneeling in a pool of blood. Beside her lay a motionless body. The body of an elf. She knew at once.

‘Get up.’

Yennefer was standing beside her. She was holding a dagger.

‘Mistress Yennefer… Where are we? I don’t remember…’

The enchantress seized her by the hand.

‘I’m with you, Ciri.’

‘Where are we? Why is everything on fire? Who’s that… lying there?’