Something Wilder (Child of the Winter Moon Book 2)

16: The Crone

"Get outta here," Juray practically growled.

"What?" The first hunter started to approach her. "You dim in the head? Beast killed our cattle, and she'll keep huntin' – damned animal! It's the ploughin' enemy! It's her, or us!"

"My sentiments exactly."

Juray took a few steps forward, stopping even with the first hunter on her right side. The wolf looked up at her, their eyes meeting. The wolf seemed to have finally accepted her fate as she looked at the Witcher, her eyes sad. Juray suddenly spun around, clocking the hunter in the face. The hunter fell to the ground from the surprise left-handed punch.

"We'll flay you alive, you wretch!"

"Like to see you try." She drew her sword and made quick work of the hunters and their hounds with the steel. None had been able to land a single hit. The wolf succumbed to her wounds during the fight and Juray laid a hand on her fur. "Sorry I couldn't help you sooner."

Beram approached. "One cub lives..." he said.

Juray looked at the cave nearby.

"No time for that right now."

"Won't survive on its own."

"Lead me to the Crone."

Berem sighed but led the way. They stopped at the small village where she, Geralt, Phillip, and the Witch Hunters had found Anna.

"She's close," the werewolf said. "Somewhere here..."

Juray looked it over, sensing the Crone's presence. "Go back to your wolf dreams, Berem. Save the cub. Go away, far away. Find yourself a comely wifewolf. And live."

"Let me help you."

"Not if you want that cub to have a chance."

Berem seemed torn between helping Juray and saving the cub.

"That cub deserves a chance to live far away from the influence of this swamp. I'm giving you a second chance." She looked at Berem. "If my story ends here, so be it. Yours doesn't have to."

Berem nodded. "Remember – like a wounded wolverine she'll fight. She could kill you."

"I know. Now go."

"Thank you, Witcher. I will not forget this." Berem then turned and fled the way they came.

"Patience, sisters." Juray could hear the Crone talking. "She comes. The Child of Winter. We will use the power locked away within her. We will be reunited once more."

"Highly unlikely, Crone," Juray called. "Get your ass out here."

The Crone stepped outside as asked. She wore a red pointed hat and a bandage over one eye, while the other looked like it was a nest for insects. Flies buzzed around her head. She was hunched over and wore a drab brown dress with thin grey hair. Juray could sense a great and ancient power in her and knew Berem was right in warning her.

"So you come to me and not the White Wolf?" The Crone said as she approached, looking Juray over as a predator would its prey. "Is Zireael not dead? Did our prophecy not come to pass? Is his pain far too great to come and kill me as he said he would?" She then laughed as Juray sensed the monsters of the swamps growing closer. "Look about you!" She motioned. "Feel their hatred? You slaughtered their brethren for a fistful of coin. They would see you suffer. They would see all your kind suffer."

"It's not Geralt you need to worry about right now. I've come to end you, just as I ended Imerith and Carenthir."

The Crone laughed again. "You will not survive this struggle, the Moon Child who denies who she is, who keeps her potential locked away as if it were a curse."

Juray held her silver sword up, realizing the Crone couldn't sense that Juray had come into her power. Something the Witcher could and would use to her advantage in the fight to come. "Hate to tell you, but it's impossible to talk someone to death."

She attacked, the Crone using her magic to turn into a flurry of crows. Juray spun around casting Quen around herself. She could feel several drowners coming toward them and cast several Yrden, not wanting to deal with them. The moment they triggered the trap, they were encased in ice and the Witcher threw Aard at them, causing them to shatter. She spun back around, focusing on the Crone.

"Do you wish to die, Witcher?" the Crone taunted. "Has the shame of being a Witcher become too much?"

Every time Juray tried to strike, she would turn into a flurry of crows and teleport.

"A sorceress who cannot grasp her magic. 'Tis a shame."

Juray managed to strike her with Aard sending her into her hut. She then leapt, but the Crone recovered quickly and the sword struck dirt.

"When I kill you, we will make good use of the magic that has been wasted within you."

Juray took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, the Crone currently in her crow form and flying around her, using her abilities to track the Crone. She switched the direction of the sword, the blade parallel to her arm.

"Have you given up? All the easier, Witcher."

Juray felt her coming toward her back, returning to her solid form. Juray spun completely around, slicing into the Crone before she could react. The Crone fell back with a shriek, wounded with a deep gash to her chest.

"You were saying?"

The Crone decided then to tuck tail and run, realizing she'd underestimated her enemy. Juray stood where she was, holding her sword out before releasing it. It hovered in mid-air. She then raised her left hand, two fingers and her thumb extended. She motioned outward and the sword sailed through the air, piercing the Crone in the back. She gave a scream as she went down, the sword having gone through her chest. Juray calmly approached her, drawing her steel sword as the Crone continued to scream. Without a word, The Witcher drove the blade through the Crone's open mouth, killing her and finishing what Ciri had started all those months ago. Juray then knelt next to her and searched her body, but did not find what she was looking for. She retrieved and cleaned her swords before going into the hut. She practically tore the place apart before she found it: Vesemir's medallion. She picked it up, giving a sigh and closing her eyes. Her last memory of him came to mind. Her mentor pinned to a crumbling wall by Imerith by his throat after a desperate attempt to put distance between Ciri and Eredin. His last attack and the crack of bone. The pain she felt at being helpless and unable to do anything to save him. They had killed everyone involved in his death, but she still hadn't felt it was enough. She held the silver wolf head close to her chest, finally feeling closure now that she had it in her hand. It was finally over. Vesemir was truly avenged in her eyes.

Outside the hut, ghouls and drowners slowly approached the hut. They seemed to sense the Witcher still within and with the Crone dead, they no longer had a reason to not approach, as the Crones had kept them away from the precious inhabitants of the tiny village. But nothing and no one was keeping them away. And they hungered for the death of one of those that killed their kind for coin. They congregated, positive their numbers would be too much for the lone monster in the hut. As if a signal had been given, they rushed into the hut. Only to find it empty.