Read Blood Of Elves Online

Authors: Andrzej Sapkowsk

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Magic

Blood Of Elves (37 page)

‘So this is the famous Surprise.’ The magician twisted her lips a little. ‘Look me in the eyes, girl.’

Ciri shuddered and hunched her shoulders. No, she did not envy Yennefer that one thing – did not desire to have it or even look at it. Those eyes, violet, deep as a fathomless lake, strangely bright, dispassionate and malefic. Terrifying.

The magician turned towards the stout high priestess. The star on her neck flamed with reflections of the sun beaming through the window into the refectory.

‘Yes, Nenneke,’ she said. ‘There can be no doubt. One just has to look into those green eyes to know that there is something in her. High forehead, regular arch of the brows, eyes set attractively apart. Narrow nose. Long fingers. Rare hair pigment. Obvious elven blood, although there is not much of it in her. An elven great-grandfather or great-grandmother. Have I guessed correctly?’

‘I don’t know her family tree,’ the high priestess replied calmly. ‘It didn’t interest me.’

‘Tall for her age,’ continued the magician, still appraising Ciri with her eyes. The girl was boiling over with fury and annoyance, struggling with an overpowering desire to scream defiantly, scream her lungs out, stamp her feet and run off to the park, on the way knocking over the vase on the table and slamming the door so as to make the plaster crumble from the ceiling.

‘Not badly developed.’ Yennefer did not take her eyes off her. ‘Has she suffered any infectious diseases in childhood? Ha, no doubt you didn’t ask her about that either. Has she been ill since she’s been here?’

No.’

‘Any migraines? Fainting? Inclination to catch cold? Painful periods?’

No. Only those dreams.’

‘I know.’ Yennefer gathered the hair from her cheek. ‘He wrote about that. It appears from his letter that in Kaer Morhen they didn’t try out any of their . . . experiments on her. I would like to believe that’s true.’

‘It is. They gave her only natural stimulants.’

‘Stimulants are never natural!’ The magician raised her voice. Never! It is precisely the stimulants which may have aggravated her symptoms in . . . Damn it, I never suspected him of such irresponsibility!’

‘Calm down.’ Nenneke looked at her coldly and, all of a sudden, somehow oddly without respect. ‘I said they were natural and absolutely safe. Forgive me, dear, but in this respect I am a greater authority than you. I know it is exceedingly difficult for you to

accept someone else’s authority but in this case I am forced to inflict it on you. And let there be no more talk about it.’

‘As you wish.’ Yennefer pursed her lips. ‘Well, come on, girl. We don’t have much time. It would be a sin to waste it.’

Ciri could barely keep her hands from shaking; she swallowed hard and looked inquiringly at Nenneke. The high priestess was serious, as if sad, and the smile with which she answered the unspoken question was unpleasantly false.

‘You’re going with Lady Yennefer now,’ she said. ‘Lady Yennefer is going to be looking after you for a while.’

Ciri bowed her head and clenched her teeth.

‘You are no doubt baffled,’ continued Nenneke, ‘that a Mistress of Wizardry is suddenly taking you into her care. But you are a reasonable girl, Ciri. You can guess why. You have inherited certain . . . attributes from your ancestors. You know what I am talking about. You used to come to me, after those dreams, after the nocturnal disturbances in the dormitory. I couldn’t help you. But Lady Yennefer—’

‘Lady Yennefer,’ interrupted the magician, ‘will do what is necessary. Let us go, girl.’

‘Go,’ nodded Nenneke, trying, in vain, to make her smile at least appear natural. ‘Go, child. Remember it is a great privilege to have someone like Lady Yennefer look after you. Don’t bring shame on the Temple and us, your mentors. And be obedient.’

I’ll escape tonight, Ciri made up her mind. Back to Kaer Morhen. I’ll steal a horse from the stables and that’s the last they’ll see of me. I’ll run away!

‘Indeed you will,’ said the magician under her breath.

‘I beg your pardon?’ the priestess raised her head. ‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing, nothing,’ smiled Yennefer. ‘You just thought I did. Or maybe I thought I did? Just look at this ward of yours, Nenneke. Furious as a cat. Sparks in her eyes; just wait and she’ll hiss. And if she could flatten her ears, she would. A witcher-girl! I’ll have to take her firmly in hand, file her claws.’

‘Be more understanding.’ The high priestess’s features visibly

hardened. ‘Please, be kind-hearted and understanding. She really is not who you take her to be.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘She’s not your rival, Yennefer.’

For a moment they measured each other with their eyes, the enchantress and the priestess, and Ciri felt the air quiver, a strange, terrible force between them growing in strength. This lasted no more than a fraction of a second after which the force disappeared and Yennefer burst out laughing, lightheartedly and sweetly.

‘I forgot,’ she said. ‘Always on his side, aren’t you, Nenneke? Always worrying about him. Like the mother he never had.’

‘And you’re always against him,’ smiled the priestess. ‘Bestowing him with strong feelings, as usual. And defending yourself as hard as you can not to call the feelings by their rightful name.’

Once again, Ciri felt fury rise up somewhere in the pit of her stomach, and her temples throbbed with spite and rebellion. She remembered how many times and under what circumstances she had heard that name. Yennefer. A name which caused unease, a name which was the symbol of some sinister secret. She guessed what that secret was.

They’re talking quite openly in front of me, without any restraint, she thought, feeling her hands start to shake with anger once more. / ‘hey ‘re not bothered about me at all. Ignoring me completely. As if I were a child. They’re talking about Geralt in front of me, in my presence, but they can’t because I … I am . . .

Who?

‘You, on the other hand, Nenneke,’ retorted the magician, ‘are amusing yourself, as usual, analysing other people’s emotions, and on top of that interpreting them to suit yourself!’

‘And pulling my nose into other people’s business?’

‘I didn’t want to say that.’ Yennefer tossed her black locks, which gleamed and writhed like snakes. ‘Thank you for doing so for me, And now let us change the subject, please, because the one we were discussing is exceptionally silly – disgraceful in front of our young pupil. And as for being understanding, as you ask . . . I will be. But kind-hearted     with that, there might be a problem

because, after all, it is widely thought I don’t possess any such organ. But we’ll manage somehow. Isn’t that right, Surprise?’

She smiled at Ciri and, despite herself, despite her anger and annoyance, Ciri had to respond with a smile. Because the enchantress’s smile was unexpectedly pleasant, friendly and sincere. And very, very beautiful.

She listened to Yennefer’s speech with her back ostentatiously turned, pretending to bestow her full attention on the bumble bee buzzing in the flower of one of the hollyhocks growing by the temple wall.

‘No one asked me about it,’ she mumbled.

‘What didn’t anybody ask you about?’

Ciri turned in a half-pirouette and furiously whacked the hollyhock with her fist. The bumble bee flew away, buzzing angrily and ominously.

‘No one asked me whether I wanted you to teach me!’

Yennefer rested her fists on her hips; her eyes flashed.

‘What a coincidence,’ she hissed. ‘Imagine that – no one asked me whether I wanted to teach you either. Besides, wanting has got nothing to do with it. I don’t apprentice just anybody and you, despite appearances, might still turn out to be a nobody. I was asked to check how things stand with you. To examine what is inside you and how that could endanger you. And I, though not unreluctantly, agreed.’

‘But I haven’t agreed yet!’

The magician raised her arm and moved her hand. Ciri experienced a throbbing in her temples and a buzzing in her ears, as if she were swallowing but much louder. She felt drowsy, and an overpowering weakness, tiredness stiffened her neck and softened her knees.

Yennefer lowered her hand and the sensation instantly passed.

‘Listen to me carefully, Surprise,’ she said. ‘I can easily cast a spell on you, hypnotise you, or put you in a trance. I can paralyse you, force you to drink an elixir, strip you naked, lay you out on the table and examine you for hours, taking breaks for meals while

you lie there, looking at the ceiling, unable to move even your eyeballs. That is what I would do with just any snotty kid. I do not want to do that to you because one can see, at first glance, that you are an intelligent and proud girl, that you have character. I don’t want to put you or myself to shame. Not in front of Geralt. Because he is the one who asked me to take care of your abilities. To help you deal with them.’

‘He asked you? Why? He never said anything to me! He never asked me—’

‘You keep going back to that,’ cut in the magician. ‘No one asked for your opinion, no one took the trouble to check what you want or don’t want. Could you have given cause for someone to consider you a contrary, stubborn, snotty kid, whom it is not worth asking questions like that? But I’m going to take the risk and am going to ask something no one has ever asked you. Will you allow yourself to be examined?’

‘And what will it involve? What are these tests? And why . . .’

‘I have already explained. If you haven’t understood, that’s too bad. I have no intention of polishing your perception or working on your intelligence. I can examine a sensible girl just as well as a stupid one.’

Tm not stupid! And I understood everything!’

‘All the better.’

‘But I’m not cut out to be a magician! I haven’t got any abilities! I’m never going to be a magician nor want to be one! I’m destined for Geralt . . . I’m destined to be a witcher! I’ve only come here for a short period! I’m going back to Kaer Morhen soon . . .’

‘You are persistently staring at my neckline,’ said Yennefer icily, narrowing her violet eyes a little. ‘Do you see anything unusual there or is it just plain jealousy?’

‘That star …’ muttered Ciri. ‘What’s it made of? Those stones move and shine so strangely . . .’

‘They pulsate,’ smiled the magician. ‘They are active diamonds, sunken in obsidian. Do you want to see them close up? Touch them?’

‘Yes . . . No!’ Ciri backed away and angrily tossed her head,

trying to dispel the faint scent of lilac and gooseberries emanating from Yennefer. ‘I don’t. Why should I? I’m not interested! Not a bit! I’m a witcher! I haven’t got any magical abilities! I’m not cut out to be a magician, surely that’s clear because I’m . . . And anyway . . .’

The magician sat on the stone bench under the wall and concentrated on examining her fingernails.

‘. . . and anyway,’ concluded Ciri, ‘I’ve got to think about it.’

‘Come here. Sit next to me.’

She obeyed.

‘I’ve got to have time to think about it,’ she said hesitantly.

‘Quite right.’ Yennefer nodded, still gazing at her nails. ‘It is a serious matter. It needs to be thought over.’

Both said nothing for a while. The novices strolling through the park glanced at them with curiosity, whispered, giggled.

‘Well?’

‘Well what?’

‘Have you thought about it?’

Ciri leaped to her feet, snorted and stamped.

‘I . . . I . . .’ she panted, unable to catch her breath from anger. ‘Are you making fun of me? I need time! I need to think about it! For longer! For a whole day . . . And night!’

Yennefer looked her in the eyes and Ciri shrivelled under the gaze.

‘The saying goes,’ said the magician slowly, ‘that the night brings solutions. But in your case, Surprise, the only thing night can bring is yet another nightmare. You will wake up again, screaming and in pain, drenched in sweat. You will be frightened again, frightened of what you saw, frightened of what you won’t be able to remember. And there will be no more sleep that night. There will be fear. Until dawn.’

The girl shuddered, lowered her head.

‘Surprise.’ Yennefer’s voice changed imperceptibly. ‘Trust me.’

The enchantress’s shoulder was warm. The black velvet of her dress asked to be touched, The scent of lilac and gooseberries

intoxicated delightfully. Her embrace calmed and soothed, relaxed, tempered excitement, stilled anger and rebellion.

‘You’ll submit to the tests, Surprise.’

‘I will,’ she answered, understanding that she did not really have to reply. Because it was not a question.

‘I don’t understand anything any more,’ said Ciri. ‘First you say I’ve got abilities because I’ve got those dreams. But you want to do tests and check … So how is it? Do I have abilities or don’t I?’

‘That question will be answered by the tests.’

‘Tests, tests.’ She pulled a face. ‘I haven’t got any abilities, I tell you. I’d know if I had them, wouldn’t I? Well, but … If, by some sheer chance, I had abilities, what then?’

‘There are two possibilities,’ the magician informed her with indifference as she opened the window. ‘Your abilities will either have to be extinguished or you will have to learn how to control them. If you are gifted and want to, I can try to instil in you some elementary knowledge of magic.’

‘What does “elementary” mean?’

‘Basic’

They were alone in the large chamber next to the library in an unoccupied side wing of the building, which Nenneke had allocated to the lady magician. Ciri knew that this chamber was used by guests. She knew that Geralt, whenever he visited the Temple, stayed right here.

‘Are you going to want to teach me?’ She sat on the bed and skimmed her hand over the damask eiderdown. ‘Are you going to want to take me away from here? I’m never going to leave with you!’

‘So I’ll leave alone,’ said Yennefer coldly, untying the straps of her saddle-bags. ‘And I assure you, I’m not going to miss you. I did tell you that I’ll educate you only if you decide you want to. And I can do so here, on the spot.’

‘How long are you going to edu— Teach me for?’

‘As long as you want.’ The magician leaned over, opened the

Other books

Guarding the Socialite by Kimberly Van Meter
New Welsh Short Stories by Author: QuarkXPress
The Administrator by S. Joan Popek
Zane Grey by The Heritage of the Desert
The Wicked Wallflower by Maya Rodale