Geralt's blade found its mark at last; not a killing blow, but close enough, a shallow slash that caught the edge of Eredin's skull-helm and sent it clattering to the stone, exposing the general's sharp, cold features beneath. Eredin's smile didn't falter at first, some private satisfaction still lingering in his eyes.
Then the palace shuddered around them, a deep, rolling tremor that ran through the very foundations, dust sifting down from the vaulted ceiling above.
Eredin's smile died. His expression darkened, no longer paying Geralt any mind at all. "The girl has escaped," he said, more to himself than to his opponent, disgust curling through every word. "How unfortunate.. Avallac'h and Ge'els proved useless in the end, it seems."
He began to retreat.
"Wait!" Geralt lunged, but Eredin vanished a moment before the blade could close the distance, a swirl of frost-pale light collapsing in on itself and leaving nothing behind but cold, drifting mist.
"Damn it." Geralt straightened, breathing hard, blood dripping steadily from a dozen shallow wounds. "Good..that means Seb found her first and that bastard's already moving to get her out." His mind raced ahead, piecing together the little he'd gathered of this world's geography. "Knowing Seb, he won't bother with subtlety.. He'll blow straight through the nearest wall and head for open ground. There was a port.. I saw it near the palace grounds on the way in, I think Seb did too. The city's no good, it'll be crawling with soldiers by now." He grimaced, already breaking into a run toward the nearest exit. "Sea's risky too, but it's the only way that doesn't run us straight into an army. Shit. This is what happens when you jump into a hostile world with no plan for getting back out."
He burst out through the palace's shattered side entrance into the night air, already scanning the horizon for smoke, for fire, for any sign of the trail Seb would inevitably leave behind him.
Seb didn't bother finding a door.
He simply put his hands to work and drove straight through wall after wall in an unbroken line, stone crumbling and flame roaring ahead of him in giant fists of fire, Ciri's hand locked tight in his own as they tore through the palace's outer sections in the most direct path he could manage. When the last wall gave way beneath his fire, the two of them burst out into open air entirely no floor beneath them at all, only a long, plummeting drop toward the glittering harbor spread out far below.
"Yes," Seb said, grinning fiercely even as the wind tore past them, "knew I was going the right way."
He pulled Ciri hard against his chest mid-fall, wrapping both arms around her, and flame roared to life beneath his boots, slowing their descent by degrees until they touched down hard but upright on the wooden planks of the port itself, dust and splinters scattering around the point of impact.
A modest fleet of pale, elegant ships rocked gently at anchor along the docks, moonlight catching their curved hulls and from the far end of the port, another figure came sprinting toward them, bloodied, limping slightly, blade still in hand.
"Geralt!" Ciri's voice cracked with disbelief and pure, overwhelming relief, and she broke from Seb's arms entirely, running the remaining distance and throwing herself into the Witcher's embrace hard enough to nearly stagger him. "You really came for me," she said, muffled against his shoulder, tears finally breaking free despite everything. "I knew you would.."
Geralt's arms closed around her, and something in his weathered, exhausted face eased for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. "Had to cross half a continent to find a way here," he said, a faint, tired smile tugging at his mouth. "Even had to use portals to do it." He said it deliberately, and it worked exactly as he'd intended.
Ciri laughed, a real laugh, wet and shaky but genuine and pulled back just far enough to look at him properly. "Thank you." She turned then, glancing back at Seb with something soft and full in her eyes. "I love you guys."
"I'm sure we feel the same way, more or less," Seb said, already scanning the docks for the most seaworthy-looking vessel.
"Hey!" Ciri shot him a look, equal parts wounded and amused.
Seb's mouth quirked, but he didn't let himself be drawn further into it. "C'mon.. we need to move. There'll be an army of Aen Elle on our tail before long."
"Already crossed swords with a few of their leaders in the palace," Geralt said grimly, falling into step beside them as they broke into a run down the length of the docks. "Not pushovers, any of them."
"For now," Seb said to Ciri as they ran, weaving between coiled rope and stacked crates, "you can't use your powers. Not even a little. They'll track you the second you do."
"I know," Ciri said, already scanning the ships ahead for the fastest-looking one. "Avallac'h told me as much."
They found the ship at the far end of the pier, sleek and narrow-hulled, built low and lean in a way that spoke of speed rather than cargo, its sails still furled against masts carved smooth as bone. Seb didn't waste a moment. He vaulted the rail in a single motion, boots striking the deck with a solid thud, and turned to offer Ciri a hand down while Geralt moved swiftly along the dock, cutting the mooring lines free with two quick strokes of his blade.
"This one'll do," Seb said, already scanning the rigging, the shape of the hull, judging it with the eye of a man who'd spent enough time reading about this sort of stuff to know a fast one when he saw it.
"We don't even need to operate this ship," Seb said. He moved to the stern, dropped into a crouch, and pressed one palm flat against the dark water rushing past the hull. "I have an idea."
Flame erupted from beneath his hands, spreading instantly across the waterline in a controlled, roaring burn, and the ship lurched forward beneath them, gathering speed far faster than any wind alone could have driven it, the wake behind them churning white and furious as the harbor's lights began to fall away into the dark.
Geralt braced a hand against the rail, watching the water boil and hiss along the hull. "Smart," he admitted, raising his voice over the rush of wind and spray.
Ciri let out a short, breathless laugh, one hand fisted in the rail beside Geralt, her hair whipping loose and wild around her face as the ship cut hard through the black water, the thick, dark line of the forest growing steadily nearer on the horizon. For one brief moment, something in her chest lifted entirely free of the weight she'd carried for a long time, the wind in her face, Geralt solid and alive beside her, Seb's flame roaring beneath them and driving them onward, all three of them together again at last, racing toward the tree line and whatever passed for freedom in this strange, beautiful and terrible world.
The laughter died in her throat before it had even fully left her.
Behind them, above the pale spires of the city, the night sky tore itself open with a shudder that rattled the very air, frost blooming outward in a spreading web across the stars themselves, dimming their light to nothing. Something vast and black emerged from the widening rift, not a ship of timber and canvas, but a thing built from what could only be bones, ribs arching up from its hull, wreathed head to stern in a churning, restless aura of blue-white frost.
Seb's flame guttered for a single, involuntary heartbeat, his head snapping up toward the sight. "That's the Naglfar," he said, low and disbelieving.
"That's it.." Ciri's voice had gone thin, all the color draining from her face as she stared up at the vessel bearing down on them, her knuckles white against the rail. "That's the ship Avallac'h told me about.. the one they use to sail between worlds. I didn't think.." She swallowed hard. "I didn't think i would see it here.."
Along its bone-pale rail, figures began to gather, tall and armored, frost curling off their shoulders in slow, ghostly tendrils, and at their center stood a familiar shape, sword already drawn, Caranthir close at his side, a full dozen Red Riders flanking them both in perfect, silent formation.
"I fought those two.. I should have finished off that mage." Geralt said grimly, watching the vast vessel bank slowly through the sky, angling to close the distance between them.
Eredin's voice rolled out over the widening gap between the two ships, carrying strange and hollow across the wind, as though it issued from somewhere far colder than his own throat."You shall not escape.. Child of the Elder Blood.."
/-\
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