"Look," Kiera pointed out. "We've managed to cross the bridge. This is where we saw the Wild Hunt."

"Great," Geralt grouched. "Means they're way ahead of us. Come on."

They turned the corner to find several frozen golems.

"Wild Hunt. Definitely."

"They destroyed the mage's sentries," Kiera observed. "They didn't come here for a friendly chat with the elf."

"Meaning you ever thought they might've?"

They passed by one.

"Frozen before they could attack."

They went through a doorway to see they'd somewhat caught up with the Hunt. The navigator was using his magic to break through a wall. Geralt jogged down the stairs next to them. By the time they reached the bottom, two of the Hunt had moved on, while the mage seemed to be waiting for them. He cast a spell, causing ice to form along the walls and ceilings, along with a blizzard wind to come from three portals.

"What is this?" Kiera asked, shouting to be heard over the wind.

"The White Frost! Mage from the Hunt summoned it! Can you seal those portals?"

"They're too far! I'll need to get closer! I can shield us with Demetia Crest's Surge! Stay close to me!"

Kiera cast her spell and they ventured down into the blizzard. As she set to work closing the first portal, frost-covered hounds emerged and bolted towards her. Geralt drew his silver sword and stepped in front of her, defending her as she worked. They repeated this twice more until all the portals were closed. Kiera dropped the shield and slightly wobbled, Geralt noticing.

"Kiera? You okay?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "It'll pass." Her voice sounded distant as Geralt sheathed his sword. "That took... a great deal of Power."

Geralt caught her as fell. "If you can't go on..."

"You can't leave me here."

"I'd never do that. Love to say we could stay here a while and rest..."

"I know. I know. We must go on." Kiera steadied herself and pushed off Geralt once she felt she could stand on her own.

The two walked to the place they'd seen the Wild Hunt and Geralt growled.

"They blocked the passage." He held his hand up, preparing to cast Igni. "Perhaps I can—"

"Leave it to me."

Before Geralt could protest, Kiera sent a magical blast into the barrier, shattering it.

"If we hurry, we might still catch them!"

"Thanks for your help," Geralt said. "Pretty tough slog."

"Good thing I came with you, then. You'd never have managed without me, would you? Come now, admit it!"

"Yeah. Never."

They came into view of another room to see one of the warriors waiting.

"He awaits us."

The warrior approached them, a heavy two-handed axe in his hand. "You are stubborn, dh'oine."

Kiera looked up at Geralt to see he'd locked eyes with the warrior with a challenging look on his face. "Geralt, I shall help you."

"Step back," he answered, drawing his silver sword.

"Stop telling me what to do."

The warrior leapt forward, Geralt blocking the blow with his superhuman reflexes.

"I wonder how long you shall last!" the warrior taunted.

"Longer than you'll live!"

The warrior focused on Geralt, completely ignoring Kiera. The Witcher and the Phantom Rider danced around each other, exchanging blows. Until the warrior cast a shield of ice around himself just as Geralt was landing a blow. The blow caused him to fly backward and land on his back.

"Geralt!" Kiera called.

"Focus on him!"

"He's opening portals!"

Geralt regained his footing and attacked the hounds while Kiera focused on damaging his shield. When the shield exploded outwards, the two focused on the warrior again. This went on a few more times before the warrior went after Geralt in a flurry of blows that the Witcher danced around to avoid, noting the weak spot at the base of his helm. The warrior brought his axe down and Geralt dived forward, the axe barely missing him. He landed on his shoulder and rolled, regaining his footing with a speed neither Kiera nor the warrior could follow, bringing his sword around and slicing through the space between his armor and helm, severing the back of his neck. The warrior fell and moved no more.

"Are you well and whole?" Kiera asked. "I feared..."

"Unnecessarily." He noticed what looked like a laboratory of some kind nearby and nodded his head towards it. "Let's look around."

"If I've my knickers on straight, this looks like the elf's laboratory."

"You wear knickers?"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Geralt!"

Geralt smirked as he sheathed his sword and followed her, another projection appearing.

The elf's message was in Common this time. "Zireael, this place is no longer safe. Do not tarry here long. Trust no one, and above all beware the witches of Crookback Bog. Try to reach the place where last we were together." The projection disappeared.

"Where last we were together. Not much to go on." Geralt commented. He walked away, rubbing his forehead. "Damnit!"

"Perhaps it's best he didn't leave a clearer message," Kiera said, Geralt turning towards her. "The Wild Hunt broke in here, surely they saw the projection."

"They searched everything," he said, noting the mess. "And if they had more time, they'd have probably torn the place to the ground. But that doesn't change the fact that we haven't learned anything, not about the elf, not about Ciri." Geralt turned away and headed to a nearby table, leaning on it.

"Well, we know they were well acquainted and they traveled together."

Geralt straightened to regard Kiera. "Wonder why they split up."

"Perhaps because the Wild Hunt was on the elf's trail, and Ciri would be safer if they did."

Geralt thought back on the elf's warning. "The witches of Crookback Swamp..."

"Crookback Bog," Kiera corrected.

Geralt's golden eyes looked over at her. "Kiera, if you're hiding something..." His voice had a tone of warning to it.

"But... I didn't say..."

"You know these witches?"

"I've never met them, but I've read about them. In an old tome I found in an abandoned hut in the village. It mentioned the village witches venturing into Crookback Bog at times, to liaise between the villagers and the Crones, the Ladies of the Wood. The Crones appear to be intolerant to outsiders, but they help the local folk. Apparently, they stopped the spread of the plague in Velen."

"What's your take on this?"

"I'd love to shrug it off as the nattering of so many old women, yet..." she paused a moment. "Throughout my first fortnight in Velen, I had horrible nightmares. Something was calling me out into the swamps. One night, I decided to enter the dream consciously, render it lucid. I confronted the thing directly. It broke contact at once. Peaceful nights ever since."

"Why didn't you say anything earlier?" Geralt advanced on her. "I told you Ciri had a run-in with a witch."

Kiera backed away. "I had no idea you meant them... If I'd told you something, you would have rushed off to find them. But we needed first to confirm that Ciri was here, didn't we?"

Geralt gave a growl and turned away from her.

"I shall tell you everything now, of course."

"Now?! After I safely led you through the cave?"

"I can't believe you'd think so poorly of me. Perhaps you do bear a grudge against sorceresses."

"Can't imagine where that comes from." A hurt look came across Kiera's face, which Geralt ignored. "How do I find them?"

"The swamps are vast, dangerous, but they say the Crones mark the way for peasants to visit them. There's a small chapel and from there you must follow the Trail of Treats."

"Treats?"

"Of course, they didn't read you bedtime stories at Kaer Morhen. All normal folk know that witches live in gingerbread houses poised atop of chicken legs."

"I'll have to see that to believe it."

"I'll give you the book once we find a way to get out of here."

They searched around the walls until Geralt's medallion started trembling when he drew close to one of the walls.

"Strange," he observed. "Medallion's trembling, but there's nothing here."

"It has to be an illusion," Kiera said, digging through the pack at her side. "I expected we would run into something like this," She pulled a flat disk with intricate carvings on it and held it out to Geralt. "The Eye of Nehaleni. It dispels illusions. It's easy enough to build so you're welcome to this one."

Geralt held it up to the wall, the illusion fading before their eyes and revealing a doorway leading to more passages.

"Shall we?"

After helping Kiera find a magic lamp the elf promised her, the two emerged from the cave.

"At last," Kiera breathed. "But it was worth it right? You learned something about Ciri in the end, something important." She turned to Geralt. "Do you still intend to venture into Crookback Bog?"

"I do."

"Then come back to my hut and I'll give you that book you need. Wouldn't want you to go in blindly." Kiera opened a portal and Geralt groaned. "Come now, Geralt. I promise you won't land in a drowner nest this time."

"I'll hold you to that promise." He followed Kiera through the portal, emerging in her hut.

She went through her book collection before finding the tome and handing it to Geralt. He read through it while Kiera studied the lamp. Satisfied with how to find the Trail of Treats and the Crones, Geralt set the book down.

"Thank you, Kiera. I'll take my leave now."

"So soon?" Kiera pouted. "You must tell me about it afterward."

"Don't know that I'll get the chance."

"Geralt, there are two types of men: those that see opportunity and take advantage, and those who forge the opportunities themselves. I've always seen you as an example of the latter. Besides, I've a favor to ask you. So, visit me some time?"

"I'll try."

"In that case, I'll be waiting."

"See you, Kiera." Geralt left the hut and looked for Roach, who was happily nibbling on some grass nearby. "Come on, Roach. We got some witches to find."

Juray looked over the notices on the board at Inn of the Crossroads.

"Crazy warning poem," she muttered out loud. "Buy your drinks with crowns. Need help with a burial. Need a guide out of Velen. Good luck with that. People still celebrate Forefathers' Eve? Thought that was dead. Now this one seems promising." Her attention was now on a plea for help from a hunter named Neillen. His wife had gone missing and he was desperate to find her and willing to pay anything. "Looks like I'm heading to Blackbough."

She turned to retrieve Shadowmount, who had wandered a few steps away to drink from the trough by the inn. Juray let her drink, looking towards the horizon. The sun was setting and she did not think it wise to travel these lands after dark. Instead, she left Shadowmount at the inn's stable and headed inside. The patrons stared at her as she made her way to the bar.

The innkeeper did a double take when he saw her. "Do ye have a brother?"

"Depends on who's asking."

"White-haired fellow with the same eyes as you wearing that same wolf head pendant came here not too long ago. Asking after a merchant over the hill."

"Did you happen to get his name?"

"Nay, sorry, lass."

"Well, I'm looking for room for the night. I'll be gone at dawn." Juray dropped crowns on the bar. "I'll pay in advance, don't worry."

The innkeeper nodded, taking her coin. "I'll show you to your room."

"Oi! Innkeep!" a man shouted, drunkenly. "Who's this? I ain't seen her around 'ere before."

Juray looked over her shoulder to see several men in the local Baron's colors. "Just passing through, soldier," she said, not wanting to cause trouble.

"Ain't never seen a woman carry one sword, let alone two. Think you got a prick in your pants?"

The innkeeper seemed to freeze.

"Well, what's in my pants is no concern of yours, but how about I buy you and your friends a round?"

"How about we go a round with you?"

One of his friends pulled him back. "Shove it, you dumb prick. That's a Witcher yer talkin' to."

"Pick your poison, boys," Juray said with a smile.

"Another round of vodka," the second man said.

"And you in my lap," the first laughed.

"Seriously, man. Knock it off for she spanks you like a Novigrad whore."

The mental image of that caused Juray to smirk. "You should listen to your friend."

The innkeeper brought the drinks and passed them around.

"Cheers. To all our healths." Juray downed the shot, setting her glass on the table. The others drank their shots. "I take my leave. A pleasant night to you, boys." She turned and walked away, the innkeeper quickly leading her to the upper level of the inn.

"You Witchers sure know when to stay your hands."

"Some of us do."

"Thank you for that. Would hate to have to clean body parts out the chandeliers."

Juray chuckled. "I'm sure." She went into the room and shut the door.

As she promised, Juray left at dawn and headed out of town without incident. By midday, she reached Blackbough. A merchant directed him to Neillen's hut. The man sitting outside looked up at her.

"Looking for a hunter named Neillen," she said.

"Found him. What do you want?"

"Here about your notice." Neillen opened his mouth and Juray motioned to her medallion. "I'm a Witcher."

Neillen closed his mouth.

"When was the last time you saw your wife?"

"Five days past, 'fore dawn. Were on my way out to hunt, she were asleep. I come back and found no sign of her."

"Notice anything strange? Maybe her behavior?"

Neillen shook his head. "No, she were her happy, smilin' self. Nothin' different of late. And she's not run off, if that's what you're askin'."

"Maybe she went to the neighboring village, forgot to tell you?"

"No," a woman's voice said.

Juray turned to see a young woman, a sun hat in her hands.

"My sister were never gone this long before."

"Tried looking for her?"

"Asked around the village, none saw 'er go. She must've left while they were still sleepin'. Told her time and again not to wander off on her own. She never listened."

"I mustered some men to scour the woods," Neillen added. "Nothin'."

"I'll look in the woods," Juray said. "Might've missed something." She looked around. "Ask around, too. She have any friends?"

"But..."

"Hanna kept... keeps... to herself mostly," the sister said before Neillen could finish his protest. "Watches the blacksmith's young 'uns atimes. And in the village, Glenna, the butcher's wife, she likes her best."

"Thanks." Juray looked at Neillen. "I'll try to find her, but I can't make any promises."

"I just want to know what happened to her."

"Butcher lives on the hill behind us," the sister added. "The blacksmith is on the other side of the village."

Juray nodded before turning away, something about the sister not sitting right with her.