‘In the course of the next few days–perhaps even tomorrow–events will occur whose outcome I’m unable to predict. It may turn out that our competition and rivalry will suddenly cease to have any meaning. For a simple reason. There won’t be a rival any longer.’

Philippa Eilhart narrowed her eyes, which were accented with light blue eye shadow.

‘I understand.’

‘Ensure then, that I posthumously regain my reputation and good name. That I won’t be thought of as a traitor and an accomplice of Vilgefortz. I ask that of the lodge. I ask you personally.’

Philippa was briefly silent.

‘I decline your request,’ she said finally. ‘I’m sorry, but your rehabilitation is not in the interests of the lodge. Should you die, you die a traitor. To Ciri you shall be a traitor and a criminal, for then it will be easier to manipulate the maid.’

‘Before you undertake anything that may prove fatal,’ Triss suddenly said, ‘leave us something…’

‘A will?’

‘Something that will allow us… to continue… to follow in your footsteps. And find Ciri. Surely it’s in Ciri’s interests, after all! It’s about her life! Yennefer, Dijkstra has found… some tracks. If it’s Vilgefortz who has Ciri, a terrible death awaits the girl.’

‘Be quiet, Triss,’ Philippa Eilhart barked sharply. ‘There won’t be any bargaining or horse-trading here.’

‘I’ll leave you directions,’ Yennefer said slowly. ‘I’ll leave you information about what I’ve found out, and what I’ve undertaken. I’ll leave a trail you’ll be able to follow. But not for nothing. If you don’t want to rehabilitate me in the world’s eyes, then to hell with you and the world. But at least rehabilitate me in the eyes of one witcher—’

‘No,’ Philippa retorted almost immediately. ‘That isn’t in the interests of the lodge either. You shall remain a traitor and a dishonourable sorceress to your Witcher, too. It isn’t in the lodge’s interests to stir up trouble, looking for revenge, and if they have contempt for you, they won’t want revenge. Besides, he’s probably dead. Or will die any day.’

‘Information,’ Yennefer said hollowly, ‘in exchange for his life. Save him, Philippa.’

‘No, Yennefer.’

‘For it isn’t in the interests of the lodge.’ Purple fire flashed in the sorceress’s eyes. ‘Did you hear, Triss? This is your lodge. This is its true countenance, these its true concerns. What do you say to that? You were the maid’s mentor, almost an older sister, as you yourself said. And Geralt…’

‘Don’t beguile Triss with romance, Yennefer.’ Now Philippa’s eyes blazed in turn. ‘We’ll find the maid and rescue her without your help. And if you succeed, thanks a million, you’ll help us, you’ll save us the bother. You’ll snatch her from Vilgefortz’s hands, we’ll snatch her from yours. And Geralt? Who is Geralt?’