Vizima, 1243
Robin stared curiously at the sign affixed to a post as Geralt paused by it. "Temeria," she read, "Realm of monsters and cowardly kings. Did you hear anything of this when you were here last?"
Geralt shook his head. "Several people at the inn told me they were having an undead problem. I killed the undead, with your help, of course. And then I left."
"Left me on the road to fend for myself," she quipped, nudging him.
"I came back for you," he huffed, smirking.
"There's a song in this somewhere," Jaskier mused. "Something about a reunion, maybe."
"It's not a reunion if we've been together the whole time, Jaskier," Geralt protested.
Jaskier shrugged. "A technicality easily fixed by the use of fiction," he replied, shuddering as a crisp wind blew through them. "This place is very dreary, isn't it?"
"It is," Geralt agreed nonchalantly. "Let's go."
****
After an unsuccessful meeting with the miners and then Foltest's guards, they were being escorted out of the city through the dark woods surrounding it. Robin was thankful that no one had seemed to recognize them, at least. That was something.
"What were they saying is plaguing them?" Jaskier whispered. "A vukodlak? What is that?"
"A minor form of undead," Geralt explained. "It can't possibly be what's causing them all this trouble. But they don't seem very interested in finding out more."
Before the guards could respond to his jab, they all slowly slid from their horses onto the ground. Geralt was immediately alert as their armor clanked against the wet, cold, snow-covered dirt, leaping off of Roach and drawing his iron sword.
Robin grabbed Roach's reins and looked around. "I sense magic," she told him.
Geralt nodded as a low hiss echoed through the trees.
"Witcher..."
"Hold Roach," Robin commanded, handing her reins to Jaskier and joining Geralt.
A woman appeared on the road before them. Her dress was green and gold, and her face was hidden by a large hood.
"You can put down your sword," she told Geralt. "I'm not here to hurt you."
"Says the witch hiding in the woods," he growled.
Robin was tense beside him, threads of magic starting to whirl around her fingers. The woman's head tilted curiously.
"Sorceress," she corrected him.
"Witch," he snarled.
She swept her hood back, revealing dark curls and a face decorated with freckles. "Much like the one standing beside you?" she inquired.
"She's a mage," Geralt replied shortly.
Robin found herself curious about the distinction, but decided it was something best discussed later.
"I am Triss Merigold," the woman introduced herself. "I serve King Foltest."
"So he makes a show of kicking me out, then sends his errand girl to slip me some coin so I'll kill his monster?"
Geralt relaxed his stance, though he didn't sheathe his sword. He approached Triss with a sneer on his face.
"Not a very original plan for a king," he decided.
"It's my plan," she revealed. "My coin. And I don't want you to kill the beast. I want you to help me save it."
Geralt peered at her skeptically. Now Robin relaxed behind him. She shut her eyes and dared to probe lightly at Triss' Chaos, but was quickly repelled.
"You weren't trained by any magic school, were you?" Triss asked.
Robin shook her head, trying not to be embarrassed by her clumsy attempt at reading the other woman's mind.
Geralt rose up to his full height and stepped closer to the sorceress. "Leave her be," he warned her.
"You're very protective of her," she observed. "While her magic is obviously rudimentary, I imagine she can protect herself just fine. And don't be so defensive. She tried to read me. Not the other way around."
Geralt looked back at Robin and she shrugged apologetically.
"It seems we have many things to talk about," Triss declared. "Let's go to my tower. If you don't like what I have to say, you can leave freely. I will not harm you. I promise."
Geralt hesitated for a moment, then put away his sword. He looked at Robin once more and she nodded.
"Very well," he agreed. "Let's go."
****
Triss' tower was a spot of brightness in the dark castle. Jaskier had been right about a particular gloom shadowing everything in the city. It was even more present here. As they'd walked through the dusty hallways, it had been apparent that nothing had been cleaned in some time, for instance.
Robin thought it was like being inside a giant tomb, and she didn't enjoy it, so she clung to Geralt's arm. Despite the warmth and pleasant herbal smell of the room, there was a chill that refused to leave her.
Triss promptly explained her business. "Six years ago," she began, "stablehands started vanishing at the castle above the city. Before long, citizens were disappearing throughout all Temeria."
"Six years ago?" Jaskier chimed in. "But that was before..."
Jas, stop. She doesn't seem to know Geralt and I were here before.
He stopped speaking abruptly and tried to recover. "Um, before... some other thing I'm sure I heard about happening here, but can't quite recall at the moment."
Geralt gave him a stony stare. Triss merely continued, though Robin was sure she'd noticed the slip.
"Foltest's royal guards soon realized the creature was coming from the crypt where the king's sister Adda is buried."
Robin thought back to the graveyard from years ago. There had been crypts there, certainly, but nothing that had struck her as royal. And all of them had been in disrepair. Adda's crypt must have been somewhere else.
"Rumor has it she was having an affair with a young man in town when she died," Triss revealed.
Geralt paused. "Was she pregnant?"
Jaskier looked confused, but understanding dawned on Robin's face. She knew exactly where he was going with his line of questioning. If he was right, and she was sure he was, the creature he was looking for was something even most witchers would have only read or heard about, but not seen.
"Well, if she were," Triss responded primly, "that would make her child the sole heir to the throne, as Foltest never married."
Geralt remained silent, though it was now obvious to him why Triss wanted the creature saved and not merely stopped.
"The king fled the castle, ignoring the rising death toll," Triss explained.
"Well, that explains why you took us to this dumpy one out in the country," Jaskier commented.
"Jas, manners, please," Robin muttered.
Triss didn't seem offended, though. "After Nilfgaard overthrew their king, the Brotherhood couldn't risk it happening again, so they sent me here three months ago to cure the creature."
"Well, you haven't been twiddling your thumbs for six years, at least, then," Jaskier observed.
It was likely also why she knew nothing of Geralt and Robin's previous visit to the city.
Robin tensed again at the mention of the Brotherhood. Though the organization had hardly been a concern of hers since Melcedem had hidden from them, being in the presence of one of their practitioners could be exceedingly dangerous for her.
The Brotherhood's hard stance on necromancy was somewhat of a front, but they were not above making an example of rogues like her. Though she hadn't technically done anything wrong, she had no magical allies, and no one to protect her. Even Geralt couldn't take on the Brotherhood. And she hoped he wouldn't, even if they decided to make an example of her, because it would surely mean his death.
At best, they would kill her quickly. At worst, they would shackle her in dimeritium, an alloy that suppressed magic, and abandon her in a cell for as long as they liked. And even she couldn't predict how long her life would be.
Escaping from dimeritium was basically impossible, except for the strongest mages. And she knew she wasn't strong enough.
She jumped as Triss touched her shoulder suddenly. "Relax, dear," the sorceress soothed her. "I knew what you were the moment I sensed you."
Geralt's hand flew to his sword again. "If this is a trap..." he snarled.
"It's not. I also know that you are the necromancer who helped this very same witcher kill the cemetaur here years ago. Quite a noble deed."
Robin swallowed. The sorceress was more informed than she had assumed.
"Does that count for something with you, Triss Merigold?" she wondered softly.
"It does. We'll talk of your magic soon."
"We will?"
Triss nodded. "I can sense the desire in you for a teacher," she said simply.
Robin swallowed back a retort about not wanting to be anywhere near the Brotherhood. If she was asking Triss to give her a chance, she had to give her the same in return.
"If you even think of hurting her in any way, I will cut you down without regret," Geralt threatened.
Triss' lips twitched, and Robin realized she was hiding a smile. "Duly noted," she told the witcher. "Let's carry on with the creature, shall we?"
"Vukodlaks are freak mutations," Geralt explained. "They can't be cured."
Triss smiled. "Well, good thing it's not a vukodlak. Come with me. I have several corpses you should look at below the castle."
"Oh, joy," Jaskier murmured. "I love looking at corpses."
"You're welcome to stay here if you wish," Triss offered.
Geralt shook his head. "They stay with me until I decide if you can be trusted."
"Very well," Triss agreed easily, then led them down another set of stairs into several dank but well-lit tunnels.
"2,000 orens if you can tell me what exactly killed these people," Triss challenged Geralt.
She led them to several bodies packed in salt. Geralt glanced at them briefly, studying their faces.
Robin watched Triss. The sorceress had stopped by one particular body, and she seemed nervous.
Jaskier had halted at the arch before the bodies. "I'll stay here, thanks."
Robin lingered by Geralt, though she was more interested in what Triss was looking at. Finally, Geralt turned his gaze in that direction. Immediately, his nostrils flared and he glared at Triss balefully.
She took a step closer to see what Geralt was seeing. The light glinted off of the silver medallion and she realized instantly. It was more crudely constructed than Geralt's, but it bore the same wolf emblem his did.
Geralt yanked on the pendant, his gloves protecting his hands from the metal's effects, and ripped the chain free. "You didn't want the people to know that it bested a witcher," he growled. "So you let them believe that he fled with their coin."
"That gives him a bad name, you know," Jaskier protested, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "Just makes my job harder."
Triss didn't respond. The resolve on her face was clear. She had done what she thought best, and she wasn't going to back down from that stance.
Geralt spared her several perturbed glances as he tucked the amulet into his belt, then proceeded to examine the other witcher's body.
Did you know him? Robin asked, not sure if he wanted Triss to be aware if he did or not.
"No," Geralt said out loud.
Triss opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, looking at Robin. She nodded, seeming pleased, which Robin thought was odd.
Geralt brushed the salt aside, frowning as he reached into the witcher's hollowed out body cavity.
Jaskier made a gagging noise as Triss commented, "You two clearly weren't acquainted."
Geralt straightened up. "His heart's missing, along with his liver. Only one creature I know is that picky an eater."
"A striga," Robin whispered.
Geralt turned to her and nodded, smiling slightly at the demonstration of her knowledge.
"Strigas are old wives' tales," Triss responded uneasily.
She had clearly thought she knew what she was dealing with, but now she was realizing she'd been wrong.
"They're very rare," Geralt countered. "The only way to make one is through a curse."
Now Triss looked even more uneasy. "Someone wanted Adda dead."
"Mmhmm," Geralt agreed. "But the curse didn't stop with Adda. It turned her daughter into a monster."
"Her daughter?" Triss echoed.
"Strigas are female," Robin explained.
Geralt nodded. "And this striga is a princess," he sighed heavily.