They headed north on foot, having left the horses at Erimon's camp on Ard Skellig.

"Worried this trail might've gone cold...," Geralt said as they walked.

"Even if Craven's dead..." Yennefer said. "We'll manage."

"How?" Juray asked.

"You'll see when the time comes."

"Every time you say something like that, you destroy something."

"And you know this for a fact?"

Geralt sighed. "You could stand to be nicer sometimes, Yen."

"I suppose... but then I wouldn't be the woman you fell in love with, would I?"

They reached the gates of the garden and Juray immediately sensed what Morkvarg was.

"Great," she said.

"What?" Yennefer asked.

"The high priestess cursed Morkvarg into a fucking werewolf."

"Well, this just got interesting," Geralt said. "Since there's no cure for lycanthropy."

"Have you ever heard of a werewolf coming back to life when you kill it?"

"No."

"Then there's more to this damn story and curse." Juray sighed. "Let's find a way into the garden so I can investigate. Might need you to watch my back in there."

"Let's go to that tree the sisters mentioned," Geralt said.

"Plan to bleed yourself for the goddess?"

"Craven did..." Juray said. "I can pick up his trail from his blood."

"Look..." Geralt pointed when they reached the upper level of Freya's Garden and found the old tree. "The impression – kneeled down on one knee..."

Juray crouched down. "And cut himself to make an offering," she said.

"See the bloodstains?" Geralt asked Yennefer.

"I may be inhumanly beautiful, but I don't have supernatural senses like the two of you."

"Which is why you're staying up here," Juray said as she stood.

"Fine... If the need arises, I can cast spells from up here."

"Better vantage point for it as well."

"Don't get hurt, Geralt. Remember, I need you if I'm to find Ciri."

Juray smirked as she looked for a way to drop down into the garden itself and Geralt just gave Yennefer a look before he turned to follow her.

"Oh, come on, I was just teasing. Fool. I need you – period. Better?"

Geralt stopped and turned back to her. "Mhm. Better." He turned to see Juray had already dropped down.

By the time Geralt had caught up to her, she was examining a body.

"Geralt do you see something interesting about this body?"

Geralt examined it with her. "Morkvarg doesn't eat his victims. Strange."

"Is it Craven?" Yennefer called.

"No," Juray answered. "This one's been here a while."

"What? I can't hear you. If you want to chat, come closer."

"Her senses are really dulled...," Geralt commented.

Juray snorted a laugh. "Good thing she can't hear you."

They continued to track Craven and soon found signs that Morkvarg had attacked Cravin, injuring him, and Craven had fled after being injured. They followed his blood trail to a door, which wouldn't budge when they tried it

"Craven must've blocked it...," Geralt said.

"Let's find a way around."

They eventually found their way around and to the building that seemed to have been the main sanctuary. On the floor were chains and a severed werewolf leg.

"Well, that's interesting," Geralt said.

"Chewed off his own leg to escape." Juray stood. "Didn't you, Morkvarg."

Geralt looked behind her to see a werewolf.

"How?"

Juray turned to face him. "I have my ways."

Morkvarg looked at the severed leg. "It grew back. Like everything does."

"Nice ability to have, to be honest."

"Would you like to hear a story?"

Juray motioned for him to continue.

"Warriors came here. They knew they could not kill me, so they laid a trap. Chained me down, locked me in here. You guessed correctly what I did. The pain..."

"Biting your own limbs off hurts," Geralt said. "Who'd have thunk?"

"Shut up, Geralt."

"You don't understand!" Morkvarg shouted. "My mouth burned. Like swallowing fire. I felt as if I would die, but I did it. Then I shredded them, dashed them to bits. Made tiny crumbs of those ploughing heroes."

"Expecting pity?"

"I want you to understand. You cannot kill me, you cannot stop me. I'll not be bound, I'll break any fetters."

"Didn't break those," Juray indicated the severed leg behind her with her thumb over her shoulder.

Morkvarg growled. "The curse. Free me or I'll return to get you again!"

Morkvarg attacked and the Witchers quickly defeated him. In the end, he lay on the ground, holding his stomach from the wound Geralt gave him.

"Willing to talk now?" Geralt asked.

"Only now can I," Morkvarg moaned. "Such is the curse. Makes me bite, scratch, mangle til I drop. You've got time before the blood's gone from me and I return. Listen carefully. Undo the curse and free me and I will reward you handsomely."

"Looking for a man named Craven," Geralt said. "Apparently came here to kill you."

"Seems it didn't work out."

"Obviously," Juray commented.

"Those who come here rarely introduce themselves. What did he look like?"

"Couldn't tell you. He came here before we arrived on the island."

"Then I can't help you. I've shredded so many."

"So no joy in being a werewolf?" Geralt asked.

"Really?"

"It's the worst. Not the garden to which I'm bound even, but the hunger! Anything I devour turns to ash, ash! I cannot eat, I cannot drink, yet I bloody live and roam and prowl. The hunger is terrible. I bite my own flesh, but the smallest morsel burns my throat."

"Everlasting hunger," Juray commented. "That's a classic. Also explains why all the corpses around here are untouched."

"Help or I'll return to shred you, rip you limb from limb."

"You're really going to threaten the one person that could possibly lift your curse?"

"Just do it!"

Geralt then ran his sword through him and the werewolf disappeared.

"Was that necessary?"

"What? Boring conversation anyway."

Juray sighed. "Go see if you can find Craven. I'm going to look around here and see if I can find anything here about the curse the High Priestess uttered."

Juray found a journal written by Morkvarg and found out the reason Einar had been the only one to survive Morkvarg's attack on the garden was because he'd been part of Morkvarg's crew. After updating Yennefer, Juray headed to Larvik to find Einar.

She found him at the docks, shouting at his crew.

"Jorre, ye dimwit!" he shouted. "Drop one more and I'll keelhaul you!"

"Bet he's fun to have on board."

Einar looked over at her. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm preparin' me boat? Nilfgaardian dogs, we're to hunt us some!"

"I'm hunting bigger game. Goes by the name of Morkvarg."

This gained Einar's full attention. "Them's your apples, although I think you shouldn't be hunting that game. He's much too dangerous for someone like you."

"Because I have tits and not a prick?" Juray then tapped her medallion. "I've taken down much bigger game."

Einar didn't dare to make any more comments. "Ask what you will, Witcher."

"You were there when Morkvarg raided Freya's Garden. Heard you were the only survivor."

"I managed to flee that day. Great Mother was lookin' out for me that day."

"Mhm. But didn't look out for her priestesses?"

"Morkvarg had them bound, then slit their throats like horses for the sacrifice. And he laughed. Understand? He laughed!" He sighed. "But Archpriestess Ulve cursed him with her dying breath. 'You are beastly now, remain so forevermore.' Saintly woman."

"Yet you fled instead of helping the priestesses?"

"How could I? Alone against a dozen raiders?"

Juray raised a brow.

"What are you lookin' like that for?"

"Islanders are obsessed with honor and courage. Yet you just cut and run."

"I ain't proud of it. Since that day, I've been seeking a worthy death at sea. Seems the goddess, she's not seen fit to summon me. Yet."

"And Morkvarg?"

"Fur rose through his skin and his mug stretched forth into a muzzle, like a dog or wolf. He howled then lunged at his men. They tried to run, but he was fast as lightnin'. As he killed them, clamped his jaws around their throats, they turned to ash. Ash that just seeped from 'twixt his fangs."

"Just as I thought. Complex and multi-leveled."

"Such is the Great Mother's power."

"And you're full of shit, Einar."

"What?" He looked shocked. "I swear it on the Great Mother's tits—"

"For starters, I'm pretty sure she doesn't want anything sworn on her tits. Secondly, cut the piety act. I know you were at the garden because you were with Morkvarg. You were part of his crew, but fled when you saw what happened to Morkvarg."

Einar crossed his arms. "You're a sharp wench. But you've failed to see one thing."

"And what would that be?"

"Lads around me, they're mine. And I daresay they haven't seen their wives and lovers in a spell."

"You really think that scares me?"

"It should."

Juray scoffed. "Personally, I don't give a shit who you were and who you ran with. I just want to lift Morkvarg's curse so the priestesses can have their garden back."

"Why would you do that? Whoreson should suffer until the day after Ragh nar Roog."

"Curses are my specialty. It's what I do."

"I used to say that myself, until Morkvarg gave the order to sail to Hindersfjall." Einar sighed. "I raided often and cruelly, killed women, children, whatever my axe hit. But priestesses? That was too much even for me. When it was over and Morkvarg was drinkin' with the rest, I took this out." He pulled a rune-covered wolf fang pendant out.

"So it wasn't Ulve who cursed Morkvarg. It was you."

"Aye. Got this from my da. He was the godi of our village. Told me that anyone I cut with the fang would suffer a fate worse than death. Spoke true, it seems."

"He mention how to reverse it?"

"Give the victim the fang, that's all. But I ain't giving it to you. Bastard should suffer."

"I did mention I'm doing this for the priestesses, didn't I? I'm on a job. And the way I see it, you owe them their garden back."

Einar sighed. "Fine. Take it, but I want something in return."

"Nobody will find out about your past."

"I'm not worried about that. If you do, I'll not hesitate to track you down and kill you."

Juray scoffed.

"Once Morkvarg's human again, don't let him leave the garden."

"Trust me, he won't."

Juray returned to the garden and tracked down Morkvarg to a cavern hidden by a canal. She was instantly attacked and Juray bested Morkvarg again.

"Oh look, we're back to this again," Juray said, crouching next to the werewolf.

"Did you find a way to end this and release me?"

"So I'm curious, Morkvarg," Juray said, taking the fang out of the pack at her hip. "What exactly were you planning on rewarding me with?"

"I looted, drank most of it away. All but one. True treasure, hidden away. It's yours if you end this and free me!"

Juray held out the wolf fang pendant. "Put this on."

"I need no more fangs."

"Wanna break the curse or not, smartass?"

Morkvarg growled, but put the pendant on. He screamed and wreathed. His fur disappeared and his features turned human. In a matter of minutes, Morkvarg was back to human, in all his naked glory. He looked at his hands, then down at his body.

"I'm free? I'm free!" He laughed. "At last!" He stood. "Where's the tavern? I could eat a broiled pig!" He laughed. "No, a side of beef! Wash it down with a cask of ale!" He turned away from Juray. "Then to sea! They've forgot me, no doubt!" He laughed again. "Well, I'll fuckin' remind 'em with a bang! In Novigrad, everywhere!" He laughed as he turned back to Juray. "I'm back!" He then gasped as Juray's steel sword went through his upper stomach, having failed to see she'd drawn it in his excitement.

"I'm afraid your story ends here, Morkvarg. You're not going anywhere." She withdrew her sword and he fell.

"You... you bitch!" he gasped. "Curse you to hell, you wench."

"Save me a spot, then." She then drove her sword through his heart to make sure he was dead.

"Damnit," Geralt said, finally finding Craven in a cavern below the garden and where Yennefer was waiting. He'd tracked him to a well and found he'd gone there to die. He'd been young, no more than a few years older than Ciri. He looked as if he'd been dead for a while, but what he could tell was he'd bled to death. "Yen!" called through the grate. "Found him!"

"And?"

"And I've seen rotfiends in better condition than this."

"Shit..." she sighed. "Fine, scrape together what you can and haul the bits up here."

"Take it you've got a plan?"

"No, I just like to stare at rotting flesh. We'll talk when you get here, all right?"

"That's Yen... Charming as ever." He went over to Craven's corpse. "C'mon. Someone wants to meet you."

Yennefer looked over Craven's corpse.

"Putrefaction's set in...but the vocal cords are intact. We might still get something out of him..."

"Doesn't look like the talkative type," Geralt commented.

"Anyone can be made to talk, even a corpse... One must simply know how."

Geralt just looked at her. "Thought necromancy was strictly forbidden."

"So is premarital sex. But I'm not about to be bothered by such foolishness."

"Need any ingredients?"

"The blood of a newborn, a virgin's tongue, and the eye of a newt."

Geralt rolled his eyes. "Mind trying again, without the sarcasm?"

Yennefer smiled. "I don't need a thing. I'm a sorceress, not a village herbalist. All I need is energy... a great deal of energy. We're very lucky this place is saturated with magic."

"It's also considered sacred. Priestesses'll be furious if you use the garden's Power to revive a corpse."

"All the reason to get it over with before they realize what's happening. Besides, Juray is probably doing a good job keeping them occupied with the whole lifting Morkvarg's curse thing."

"Fine."

Yennefer stood over Craven's body and uttered an incantation. After a moment, Craven sat up with a scream.

"Are you Craven of Lofoten?" she asked.

"No... I have a name. Skjall! My name is Skjall."

"We're looking for Ciri," Geralt said. "Ashen hair, green eyes... Have you seen her?"

"She's why they cursed me!"

"I don't care about that!" Yennefer said. "What happened to her? What was she doing here? Speak!"

"No..."

"Speak!"

"It's important, Skjall," Geralt said.

"The sea... She fell. Almost drowned."

~~~

Ciri was barely aware of her surroundings, but heard her friend and companion's voice through the icy haze.

"Ciri...," he said. "Zireael... Can you hear me?"

"I can..," she mumbled.

"I must leave you now. We will meet beneath Drowned Dead Rock. Can you remember?"

"Mhm..."

"Repeat it."

"Drowned... Dead... Rock..." Ciri then passed out.

When Ciri returned to consciousness, she found herself in a simple room, laying on a simple but comfortable cot. Her shirt was gone, her chest covered in bandages. Nearby a handsome, young man with the look and dress of a Skellige Islander sat. He stood once he noticed she was awake.

"You're awake... And I thought you'd..."

"Where am I? And who are you?"

"It's alright. You're on Hindarsfjall, village of Lofoten. They call me Skjall."

Ciri sat up. "But how'd I... What?"

"We fished you out of the sea... Me and that friend of yours."

"How long did I lie there?"

"All day, nearabouts – 'twas morn when we brought you in, night's near come now."

"Damn... Too long..."

"You needed the rest, desperately. Been through a lot, eh? Got some nasty fresh-lookin' scars..."

Ciri looked at him, he sounded genuinely concerned. "Yes... I've been through a lot."

"I never thought women on the Continent did any fightin'."

"Sometimes they have no choice." She quickly changed the subject. "Where's my friend?"

"Stepped out a while ago. Said he needed to find a boat. Why's he wear that mask? Somethin' not right with his mug?"

"No. He simply doesn't like others to see it." Ciri swung her legs over the side of the cot and reached her hand toward Skjall as she started to rise. "Help...help me stand."

Skjall jumped up as Ciri unsteadily stood. "I don't... I don't think you should—" He placed a hand on her back to keep her from falling.

"Less talk, more giving me a hand."

A woman with dark hair and a simple Skellige dress walked in at that moment. "Ah, that's me brother for you. Outta sight for a second, and he's already putting his paws on a girl."

"Dah. Astrid, you're as dim as dishwater! You know perfectly well I'm helpin' her up."

"It's a shame, I know, but I've got to interrupt your courtship. Come, we're off to the sauna."

"Where?"

"Why's your mouth agape like you're noodlin' for an eel? The sauna!" Astrid walked over to Ciri. "Girl... You was blue as a whale when we brought you here! Your blood needs thawin'!"

"Really, there's no need... I feel fine now."

Astrid gave her a gentle push. Ciri stumbled backward, sitting hard on the cot.

"Hey!"

"Fine?"

Skjall gave Astrid a dirty look as he helped Ciri back to her feet.

"You can't stand on your own two feet... And it's no surprise with your muscles frozen stiff. But don't you worry... Mum and I will take care of you."

Ciri glared at her. "I'm sorry, but I must get to Drowned Dead Rock... as fast as possible."

"Shan't force you to stay..." He gave Astrid another look. "But the Rock's a way off, and you can barely walk. You best take a horse."

"True! Skjall can prepare a horse for you. You'll have to wait a spell, but even so you'll get there faster than on foot."

"Fine... That will do. Thank you both very much."

"Pish-posh, there's no need... Now come, we gotta sweat the sick outta you!"

Ciri shook her head, looking around, noticing something missing. "Where are my clothes?"

"I've taken 'em already," Astrid said with a grin. "Come on!"

Ciri sighed and followed Astrid, not noticing the smile on Skjall's face as she walked away.

"That man in the mask...," Astrid said as she led Ciri through the village to the sauna. "He's from afar, isn't he?"

"Oh, yes... From very far away."

"Where exactly?"

"Aren't you nosy!"

"Surprised? Been sittin' in this fish puddle me whole life... I'd love to travel like you..."

"Like me? No, you wouldn't like that... Trust me."

They reached the sauna and Astrid motioned to one of the rooms. "All right... In you go and get out of those rags!"

"All of them?"

"I should think so!" Astrid laughed.

Ciri went inside and shut the door behind her. She undressed, glancing at the nearby towel and contemplating wrapping herself in it, but decided against it. She then stepped out of the room just as Astrid stepped out of the other room. Both women were in their smallclothes, but while Ciri's breasts were covered by the bandages, Astrid was completely nude above the waist. Astrid motioned for Ciri to follow, joining her mother in the sauna, who was likewise topless.

"Finally!" Astrid's mother said. "I was so worried she'd—"

"Ach, Mum, you always worry. Everything's fine. Ain't it?"

"Mhm. Yes. It's fine."

"Good, that's good..."

Ciri sat next to Astrid's mother. "What's on your thigh, child?" she asked, noticing the tattoo of a rose on her inner thigh. "That a bruise?"

Ciri looked down. "This? No... It's a tattoo."

"So it is... A red rose... It mean anythin'?"

Ciri smiled to herself, remembering the ill-fated relationship with Mistle, a girl in the gang that had taken Ciri in. She'd been killed by the man that had given her the scar on her cheek. "It's a souvenir... of someone special who's dead now." She ran her finger over the tattoo, Mistle had a matching one in the same spot.

"I picture it already..." Astrid said. "You were promised to a handsome lad... He gave you a red rose before sailin' off, but the cruel sea swallowed him..."

Ciri didn't have the heart to correct her and gave a half-hearted scoff of a laugh. "Close."

"Eeh, child..." Astrid's mother said with a shake of her head. "Those bards've stuffed your head with their foolish romances..." She stood. "Here we are, gabbin' away... Steam's gone... gotta douse the coals." She picked up a pitcher of water and poured it over the coals.

"Say...," Astrid said. "Back home... have you got saunas, too?"

"You know... I don't really have a home. I'm a traveler." She thought about Kaer Morhen, the only place she would consider home.

"Ah, that's right..." Astrid's mother said. "Where was your ship headed?"

Ciri gave her a confused look. "Ship?"

"We fished you out of the sea. We thought you were in a shipwreck."

She didn't want to tell them she fell out of a portal she'd created to escape from Whoreson's men. She hoped Jaskier made it of Temple Isle. "Yes, my ship... We set sail from Novigrad."

"And what brings you to Skellige?"

"I'm here looking for someone."

"Not your betrothed, I hope...," Astrid said.

Ciri looked up at her. "Why?"

"It'd break Skjall's heart..." Astrid grinned. "He's head over heels for you, girl. Sat at your bedside all the day, starin' like you was painted by a master!"

Ciri could feel her cheeks flush.

"Astrid! I asked you not to tell her!"

"Oops... Well, now the milk's spilt..." She sat on the bench across from Ciri. "Do you fancy Skjall?"

Ciri smiled. She had taken a liking to him in the brief time she'd talked to him. "I must say, he's rather handsome...," she admitted.

"Half the village sighs when he passes, but he likes you. A mysterious beauty, arose outta the seafoam..."

"Give it a rest," her mother groaned. "You're intolerable today!"

Ciri gave a smile. "It's lovely sitting here with you, but... I really must go now."

"I understand," Astrid said, standing. "Who'd want to stay in this hole? We're all related three times over and the air stinks of fish."

"I can't see how you're related to anyone here," her mother said. "No one in Lofoten groans and bitches quite like you do! Sit down and be quiet."

Astrid huffed and crossed her arms.

"Child... Skjall's certain to have readied the horses by now, but before you go, you ought to take a quick jump in the water. It'll do you good."

"I suppose..." She shrugged. "Why not?"

"Head through the door and you'll see the pier. Be careful, it's slippery."

Ciri stood. "Thank you once more."

"And, once more, there's no need. Gods bless your journey!"

After Ciri took a dip in the cold water, then dressed, she headed to the stables and met Skjall.

"Oh... You're here... The horses are ready."

"As am I. Shall we ride?"

"Listen, I... I hope... My sister, she didn't talk any nonsense to you, did she?"

"No...," Then Ciri smirked. "Except to mention that you fancy me."

Skjall's face turned red. "Wha? But I asked her... Besides, it's not... O' course, y'are very..."

Ciri was amused at Skjall tripping over his words.

"But... But – Y'know what? Let's ride. You're in a hurry, and it'll be dark soon."

Ciri sighed. "You're right. I hope to come back here one day..." She smiled at him. "We can finish our conversation then."

"Sounds dangerous..."

Ciri laughed. "I didn't intend it to..."

"I'll take Njord." Skjall motioned to the horse he was next to. "You can ride Grayback. She's old, but she'll make the—" He was cut off by a shout.

"Run for your lives!"

They both looked as Ciri noticed the frost spreading across the village.

"Oh no...," Ciri whispered. Then she saw the Wild Hunt enter the village, immediately attacking.

"You stay here! I'll go and—"

"I can look after myself." Ciri drew her sword as Skjall grabbed an axe

The two fought side by side, but the Wild Hunt's warriors and beasts seemed to be never-ending.

"Ride, Ciri! Don't look back!" Skjall pulled Ciri back toward the stable. "What... What was that?!"

"The Wild Hunt."

"Ragh nar Roog... The world's end..."

"No... Not yet... But I must go. They're here for me."

"Get on the horse." He grabbed the reins of his horse. "I'll show you the way to the Rock."

"You should stay, see to Astrid, your mum..."

"Afterwards... Once I'm sure you'll make it. Let's go!"

The two mounted and fled, the Wild Hunt giving chase. They managed to pull far ahead of their pursuers.

"Pull up!" Skjall shouted.

"What?!"

Ciri pulled up and saw they'd reached their destination. Her companion was waiting for her with a boat. She reached over and took Skjall's hand, silently thanking him before she dismounted and ran toward the boat.

Skjall heard the Hunt gaining on them and grabbed Greyback's reins, urging Njord into a gallop, planning on leading the Wild Hunt away. He looked back to make sure Ciri and her friend were escaping and saw they were arguing. Ciri's companion cast a spell and Ciri fell back. The man caught her and carried her to the boat. Anger welled up in Skjall and he stopped, dismounting and running toward the boat as the man shoved off. He gave a cry as something cut into his back and he fell. A glowing light came out of the mage's hand before he began to row and Skjall passed out.

He wasn't sure how long he was out before he awoke. He could barely move from the pain going through his back. He saw the boat had returned, but instead of the mage or Ciri, the ugliest creature Skjall had ever seen was on the beach, its features grotesque. It noticed that Skjall saw it and waddled off as fast as it could go. Skjall once again fell unconscious.