Shilard and Radovid departed one after the other, taking most of the guards with them. Torches flickered ominously along the walls, and the dungeon abruptly became cold, empty, and desolate.
The guards' vicious curses had still been audible earlier, but at some point, even they had fallen silent.
The blinded sorceress rolled onto her back, her ample chest rising and falling with each breath. In her silent, eternal world of darkness, the only sound was the hollow echo of dripping water.
Philippa Eilhart...
Victor remembered when they had first met at the royal palace. Back then, even her apprentice Cynthia had dared to openly disregard Radovid. Yet now Philippa could do nothing but sit in a dungeon and await death, assuming he chose not to save her.
Looking down at the once-arrogant Jewel of the Court at Tretogor reduced to such a state, Victor slowly exhaled, contemplating how he had watched her rise to the heights, entertain the great and powerful, and finally see it all come crashing down.
"Lady Philippa... you certainly weren't easy to find."
Hearing that familiar voice, the sorceress abruptly sat upright, instantly connecting his presence to the guards' curses mysteriously falling silent.
"Victor Corion!? Why are you here? What are you doing here?"
"What do you think? Did I come all the way from Vergen to Loc Muinne, sneak into the Nilfgaardian dungeon, just so I could enjoy the touching reunion between Philippa Eilhart and her former pupil Radovid?"
The sorceress choked on his words.
"...I never knew you had such a poisonous tongue."
"And I never knew you'd done so many things worthy of the gallows!" the witcher shot back without yielding an inch.
"Ah... look what they've done to me! When Radovid was young, I helped secure his throne and taught him how to be a king, and this is how he repays me!
"Help me. I have to get out of here. Do you hear me, Victor? Please, help me!"
By the end, her voice had become mournful and pitiful.
Victor sat cross-legged in front of her.
"Philippa, I'll consider your request, but first you need to answer a few questions.
"Tell me, was Shilard telling the truth? About the Lodge of Sorceresses. Did you hire the kingslayers to assassinate the kings?"
"Shilard only said what Radovid wanted to hear. You should know that a carefully constructed truth, with details omitted and the listener deliberately led in the wrong direction, is barely any different from a lie."
The sorceress's answer made the witcher pause.
"I know Síle de Tansarville was behind Demavend's assassination. Were Triss and Keira involved too?"
"Keira I know about. Triss has something going on with you as well? Heh, and here I actually thought she truly loved Geralt...
"Don't worry. Neither of them participated in the assassination. In that regard, they're as innocent as children, but only in that regard. Keira knew about the plan to assassinate Demavend, and I believe Triss has likewise concealed quite a few things from you..."
Philippa's answer made Victor quietly roll his eyes.
Why did she have to read some sort of affair into everything? Couldn't two people simply have a purely platonic friendship?
He knew she had misunderstood, but he couldn't be bothered to explain himself.
"Why did all of this happen? What exactly was the purpose behind murdering kings? I want a detailed explanation."
"Help me escape from here and I'll explain everything. I'll even remove the spell on Saskia. Unlock these shackles, take me to my residence. Please. I'll tell you everything, absolutely everything!"
Where once there had been bright, dark eyes, only empty, bloody sockets remained. Blood trickled from them, staining her pale face like crimson tears.
Victor sighed with pity.
He had already decided to get the sorceress out of here, but outwardly his attitude remained hard.
"You knew from the beginning that Saskia was a dragon?"
"Are you made of stone!? Do you intend to take revenge on a blind woman? Hasn't what I've suffered been enough to move you?" she growled.
His tone remained indifferent.
"Answer the question. I'm the opportunity you can't afford to lose. Every second is passing, and we don't have much time."
Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. Philippa gradually regained her composure.
"I suspected for a long time that she wasn't what she appeared to be, but I didn't discover the truth until she collapsed from the poison and I was able to examine her closely."
"I saw the list of ingredients required for the antidote. There wasn't any Rose of Remembrance on it. That's what you used to control her, wasn't it?"
"I won't apologize for that... everyone appreciates a loyal ally. The Rose of Remembrance is tremendously powerful. Even Saskia, despite being a she-dragon, couldn't resist it.
"Get me out of here... I'm the only person who knows how to undo the spell. If I die, she'll remain bound by it forever."
"Then why don't you summon her? You certainly need help right now."
"Dimeritium shackles block all magic, including spells used to send messages. And even if I could..."
The sorceress shook her head helplessly.
"She should be attending the summit with Síle right now. The amphitheatre is an anti-magic zone. No one can cast spells inside it, much less establish magical contact with someone outside."
Her words reminded the witcher that time was limited.
They could talk while walking, but he needed to obtain the means of breaking Saskia's enchantment as quickly as possible.
Victor stood and approached her, supporting the back of Philippa's head as he poured a healing potion down her throat. Then he helped her to her feet.
"Just so we're clear, I didn't come alone. Iorveth is probably dying to see you."
"My death would change nothing. Besides, Iorveth and people like him have no right to judge anyone. They're the lowest possible representatives of morality themselves."
Something soft and heavy pressed against his arm as she clung closely to him. Together, they passed through the cell door and walked past guards sprawled asleep across the floor.
They had been ambushed by Victor's silent-cast Axii. Even after waking, they wouldn't remember why they had suddenly fallen asleep.
"How exactly does the spell involving the Rose of Remembrance work?"
"Saskia's will became one with mine. She's incapable of resisting my requests. But don't worry, it doesn't harm her. She simply believes I'm the best person in the world... as though she's hopelessly in love with me.
"Do you know what the most fascinating part is? Even under the spell's influence, she appears completely unchanged. She retains all her charisma, courage, and sense of honor."
"What was the last order you gave Saskia?"
"Before I was arrested, I told her to meet with Síle and follow her instructions until I appeared."
As they crossed an uneven stretch of elevated ground, the sorceress stumbled repeatedly despite having the witcher to lean on.
"Please, don't try anything!"
"I'm not... I only want to get out of here. I want to live."
Victor scooped Philippa into his arms and quickly carried her across the rough terrain, only putting her down once they reached flatter ground again.
"Perhaps you could remove my shackles?"
"No. Don't even think about it. I'm absolutely not taking them off."
When they returned to where they had parted from Iorveth, the elven commander saw the bloody holes where the sorceress's eyes had once been, and the corners of his mouth rose.
"Vic, please tell me who did that to her."
"Radovid's way of thanking Philippa for taking care of him during his childhood."
"No wonder I saw him whistling as he marched off to the talks with his soldiers."
"Could you stop chatting and hurry up and get me out of here..." Philippa interrupted.
Iorveth spat.
"Shut up! Damned witch. If you can't learn to keep quiet, I'll gladly slit your throat."
"Listen to me. Philippa has agreed to help us in exchange for her freedom."
"And you believe her? A whore who'll sell her ass to anyone?"
"Do you have another way to save Saskia?"
Victor's retort left the elven commander speechless.
Ignoring him, the witcher supported the sorceress and continued south.
"Lady Eilhart, now that I think about it, what would you have done if the Dragonslayer hadn't been poisoned, or if some idiot witcher hadn't managed to gather the ingredients for the antidote?"
"I would've looked for another method, but I wasn't about to waste the opportunity her poisoning provided."
"And with Síle attending the summit at Loc Muinne, what exactly is she... or rather, what are all of you trying to accomplish?"
Philippa's empty sockets stared into the void.
"First, the restoration of the Council of Mages. After years of chaos and destruction, the time has finally come to rebuild it. If the North is to defend itself against Nilfgaardian aggression, the Council of Mages is indispensable.
"Second, we want Saskia's republic, led by the Dragonslayer, to be recognized by the other kings.
"Yes, we want to rule. What's wrong with that? Everyone wants to rule! And I know how it should be done better than any monarch currently in this city."
"But don't expect ordinary people to trust you. Humans will never accept a sorceress as their queen," Victor replied quietly.
Following behind them, Iorveth coldly added, "Neither will nonhumans. Just look at what that old woman Findabair has done."
The eyeless sorceress staggered, yet continued forward with determination.
"People will believe in Saskia. They all trust her. That girl is a natural leader. Unfortunately, she has no political instinct.
"She's charismatic but not cunning enough, courageous but not ruthless enough, just but lacking the necessary cruelty..."
"She's practically your exact opposite!" Iorveth finally snapped.
"Perhaps you're right... but together, we'd be unstoppable."
Seeing the elven commander about to start arguing with the sorceress again, Victor changed the subject.
"Philippa, did Foltest's assassination truly have nothing to do with you? Shilard claimed Triss confirmed..."
"Triss had no idea what she was talking about. She knew of the Lodge of Sorceresses, and it's true that she had lost our confidence. That's the extent of it. I also admit Demavend's death was part of our plan, but Foltest's assassination? I never gave that order."
Iorveth didn't particularly care who had wanted Foltest dead. His concern lay elsewhere.
"Witch, how do we save Saskia?"
"I bound a counterspell into a dagger. Stab it into her heart and the enchantment will be broken," Philippa replied calmly.
The elf exploded into furious curses.
"You filthy whore, are you trying to make fools of us? Why don't we stab you in the heart instead!"
"There is no other method," the sorceress replied mockingly. "You must stab Saskia at a surgically precise angle, otherwise the counterspell won't work. Every rune along the blade must come into contact with her blood, while the tip has to enter one particular chamber of her heart."
Victor said, "Sounds like we'll need some way to hold Saskia down."
"Hold down a dragon? That's absurd! Victor, the witch is lying. I don't believe her. After successfully enslaving Saskia, why would she need a dagger like that? Don't tell me she was planning to release her someday."
Philippa calmly refuted him.
"Don't pass judgment on facts you know nothing about. When the Council of Mages still existed, every spell or curse had to be accompanied by a prepared counterspell. It was one of the fundamental rules of magic. I prepared that dagger before casting the enchantment, in case something went wrong..."
"That rule does indeed exist, though I've never heard of many mages actually obeying it. Where's the dagger?" the witcher said, settling the matter.
"In Geoffrey Monck's old house. On the rooftop, inside a chest protected by powerful magic."
"Hmm... I think I know which chest you mean. The seal on it really is nasty. Sorry, Philippa, for searching the place without your permission, but you weren't exactly easy to track down."
"I accept your apology. Could I have another healing potion? Its painkilling effect is excellent."
Before Victor could answer, Iorveth barked harshly, "Don't you have magic? Bitch, the faster you get us that dagger, the faster you can get yourself treated."
"Healing magic requires concentration and precision. In my present condition, I can't maintain such a spell," the sorceress quietly defended herself.
"Then die from the pain! Don't worry, nobody will help you or shed a tear for you."
...
Some time later.
"Glug, glug, glug..."
After finishing the healing potion, Philippa turned her empty eye sockets toward the witcher.
"Aren't you afraid the elf will be angry if he finds out?"
Victor released the hand supporting her neck but didn't answer.
Objectively speaking, he thought Iorveth's attitude was somewhat excessive. They needed her help, yet he kept humiliating her verbally. That wasn't how Victor preferred to conduct himself.
He was certainly extremely wary of the sorceress, but there was nothing wrong with easing the pain and treating the wounds of a blind woman. He simply had to make sure the dimeritium shackles stayed on.
In Victor's memories from his previous life, this woman was the archetypal schemer and an extraordinarily powerful mage, with virtually no glaring weakness in any respect. Victor had killed his fair share of mages by now, but if he carelessly released her, he wasn't confident he could keep her under control.
As for why he didn't tell Iorveth to tone it down, that was naturally because, when all was said and done, Iorveth was one of his own.
Victor didn't have that kind of friendship with Lady Philippa Eilhart.
Silence itself was an answer.
Water dripped through the quiet sewer, and the sorceress asked no further questions.
Before long, Iorveth's voice came from above. Victor had sent him ahead to scout.
"Hurry up! There aren't any Redanian soldiers outside. Radovid took all of them with him!"
...
Emerging into daylight once more, they entered the top floor of Philippa's residence again.
Strange magical diagrams covered the floor, with an unusually ornate treasure chest sitting in the center. Two steel golems stood beside it.
Victor had noticed this place when he and Angoulême searched the residence earlier, but between the magical seal and the two golems, the Phantom Troupe had simply chosen to leave it alone.
"A heavy, ornate chest covered in runes. There's a pentagram circle on the floor, surrounded by a number of candles," the witcher said.
The sorceress nodded.
"Yes. That's where Geoffrey Monck stored his most valuable treasures. The Spellbreaker dagger is inside."
"Just tell us what preparations we need to make."
"Remove my shackles and take away the dimeritium. I need to cast a spell."
"Wait!" Iorveth interrupted. "First tell us exactly how to open it."
The sorceress sniffed.
"The candles must be lit in a particular sequence. Anyone can do that. My notes are downstairs. Read them and determine the correct order. Once the candles are lit, remove my shackles. I only need to cast one simple spell."
The elf turned toward the witcher.
"Victor, do you understand this ritual?"
"This is outside my area of expertise," Victor said, shaking his head. "I'll light the candles, then we'll remove the dimeritium."
He went downstairs, found the notes, then lit the candles according to the instructions written on them.
Victor turned toward Philippa.
"Lady Eilhart, it's done."
"Now remove my shackles. I'll cast the spell that opens the chest."
Iorveth asked, "Can't the two of us simply recite the incantation?"
"This isn't something you can learn on the spot. Only a trained mage can cast the spell. The candles are already burning, we need to move quickly! Do what I say before the pain makes me lose consciousness!"
"If you try anything clever, I'll kill you."
Iorveth removed the dimeritium shackles, then drew his steel sword and pressed it against the back of her neck.
Feeling the cold weapon against her skin, the sorceress faced the magic circle and murmured an incantation.
"Said'aubwe asidas'ido isndoai."
Cyan magical light spilled outward, illuminating Philippa's pale face.
"Victor, you may be able to break the spell binding her, but she's ultimately not human. If you truly think she can rule a realm of humans and elves by herself..."
"Bitch, shut up! She's more than some ordinary human. She'll bring hope back to my people, to the elves!" Iorveth cursed, cutting her off.
"I've had enough of your stupidity and vulgarity. You'll pay for this!" the sorceress suddenly snapped back.
Standing in the center of the magic circle, Victor instantly realized something was wrong.
Then came a thunderous boom.
Philippa's spell locked Victor firmly inside the pentagram. At the same moment, a powerful magical shockwave erupted outward from her body, sending Iorveth flying.
Her entire presence changed in an instant.
The weak, pitiful blind woman disappeared, and in her place stood once more the Jewel of the Court at Tretogor, Redania's proud sorceress.
The grief and outrage she had displayed before the king, and the helpless weakness she had shown the witcher, vanished without a trace.
Her long dress fluttered as she stood with calm elegance.
One hand closed around empty air, and Iorveth was immediately restrained in midair.
The situation reversed in an instant.
"Honored Lady Eilhart, this isn't quite what we agreed upon..."
Victor sounded perfectly calm as he spoke, but in reality he was already probing the magical barrier with all his strength, searching for a weakness.
He was confident something like this couldn't hold him for more than a few minutes.
Her bloody sockets turned toward Victor as Philippa sneered contemptuously.
"No, Viscount Corion. I'm merely ensuring that you honor our agreement, especially this contemptible elf. You should know that right now I could easily awaken those golems and have these two steel constructs entertain you both. Yet I haven't."
Click!
The sound of the treasure chest unlocking came from behind him at precisely the right moment.
Victor stared at the bloody tears streaking the sorceress's face. Feeling that they weren't entirely in the right here, he scratched his hair.
"In that case... now that Your Ladyship has regained her freedom, what are you waiting for?"
"Victor...↑ Victor...↓ Thank you.
"Let me give you one piece of advice, leave Loc Muinne as quickly as you can!"
The next instant, Philippa gave a sharp cry and transformed into an owl, flying out the window and disappearing from sight.
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