The world exploded into light.
For an instant, Stephan thought he had been struck blind, the tunnel's choking darkness torn apart by a brilliance so raw it stabbed his eyes and seared into his skull. His boots skidded against rough stone as he stumbled into open air, the stale breath of the cavern replaced by a rush of crisp wind that carried scents of pine, damp earth, and the faint sting of frost.
Behind him, the shrieks of the Sanguivores echoed like dying thunder, trapped in the black throat of the tunnels. Ahead of him, a new world unfolded.
Stephan blinked once, twice. He found himself standing beside Grief, who held Anna Mary, with Yennefer at his side.
"It's nothing like I imagined," Stephan said.
"Me too," Yennefer muttered. "This place looks like a fucking village."
"Where's the great City of Magodilin that piece of shit was telling us about?" Stephan asked, frowning.
