Free The Last Wish by Andrzej Sapkowski Page B

witcher finally said, getting up. 'Thanks for your hospitality, dear host. Time I was on my way.'
    'Quite right.' Nivellen also got up. 'For certain reasons I can't offer you a room in the manor for the night, and I don't encourage you to spend the night in these woods. Ever since the area's been deserted it's been bad at night here. You ought to get back to the highway before dusk.'
    I'll bear that in mind, Nivellen. Are you sure you don't need my help?'
    The monster looked at him askance. 'You think you could help me? You'd be able to lift this from me?'
    'I wasn't only thinking about that sort of help.'
    'You didn't answer my question. Although . . . you probably did. You wouldn't be able to.'
    Geralt looked him straight in the eyes. 'You had some bad luck,' he said. 'Of all the temples in Gelibol and the Nimnar Valley, you picked the Church of Coram Agh Tera, the Lionheaded Spider. In order to lift the curse thrown by the priestess of Coram Agh Tera, you need knowledge and powers which I don't possess.'
    'And who does?'
    'So you are interested after all? You said things were fine as they are.'
    'As they are, yes. But not as they might be. I'm afraid that—'
    'What are you afraid of?'
    The monster stopped at the door to the room and turned. 'I've had enough of your questions, witcher, which you keep asking
    instead of answering mine. Obviously, you've got to be asked in the right way. Listen. For some time now I've had hideous dreams. Maybe the word “monstrous” would be more accurate. Am I right to be afraid? Briefly, please.'
    'Have you ever had muddy feet after waking from such a dream? Conifer needles in your sheets?'
    'No.'
    'And have—'
    'No. Briefly, please.'
    'You're rightly afraid.'
    'Can anything be done about it? Briefly, please.'
    'No.'
    'Finally. Let's go, I'll see you out.'
    In the courtyard, as Geralt was adjusting the saddle-bags, Nivellen stroked the mare's nostrils and patted her neck. Roach, pleased with the caress, lowered her head.
    'Animals like me,' boasted the monster. 'And I like them, too. My cat, Glutton, ran away at the beginning but she came back later. For a long time, she was the only living creature who kept me company in my misfortune. Vereena, too—' He broke off with a grimace.
    Geralt smiled. 'Does she like cats too?'
    'Birds.' Nivellen bared his teeth. 'I gave myself away, pox on it. But what's the harm. She isn't another merchant's daughter, Geralt, or another attempt to find a grain of truth in old folk tales. It's serious. We love each other. If you laugh, I'll sock you one.'
    Geralt didn't laugh. 'You know your Vereena,' he said, 'is probably a rusalka?'
    'I suspected as much. Slim. Dark. She rarely speaks, and in a language I don't know. She doesn't eat human food. She disappears into the forest for days on end, then comes back. Is that typical?'
    'More or less.' The witcher tightened Roach's girth-strap. 'No doubt you think she wouldn't return if you were to become human?'
    'I'm sure of it. You know how frightened rusalkas are of people.
    Hardly anybody's seen a rusalka from up close. But Vereena and I . . . Pox on it! Take care, Geralt.'
    'Take care, Nivellen.' The witcher prodded the mare in the side with his heel and made towards the gate. The monster shuffled along at his side.
    'Geralt?'
    'Yes.'
    'I'm not as stupid as you think. You came here following the tracks of one of the merchants who'd been here lately. Has something happened to one of them?'
    Yes.'
    'The last was here three days ago. With his daughter, not one of the prettiest, by the way. I commanded the house to close all its doors and shutters and give no sign of life. They wandered around the courtyard and left. The girl picked a rose from my aunt's rosebush and pinned it to her dress. Look for them somewhere else. But be careful, this is a horrible area. I told you that the forest isn't the safest of places at night. Ugly things are heard and seen.'
    'Thanks, Nivellen. I'll remember about you. Who knows,