175 Toussaint (Part 14)

"Can you keep up with me?"

"I'm not that weak." - she raised her nose proudly.

"Then follow me. We will run."

His gaze lingered on something in the distance for a moment.

"Where?" - her inner voice screamed with bad precognition. She felt heaviness and smelled blood that never existed around her. She sensed undeniable footsteps of death.

The duo rushed from the higher grounds of Beauclair like two arrows. They moved fast, faster than any human. Their speed was closer to the capabilities of the true witchers, who undergone mutations.

"Whatever you see, don't stop. Don't hesitate. Kill, we will cope with consequences later. You just need to know one thing. They deserve it."

"Who?"

"Headhunters." - said Alan and looked ahead. Road went like a serpent. It will take to much time to traverse the city properly. - "We can't use streets, jump over the railing."

Ciri stopped talking, as the run became very intense. The duo vaulted over the wall and landed on the roof of a two-floor building.

"To the orphanage."

Ciri bit her lip and her eyes shone brighter.

They jumped between roofs and ran, leaving misplaced or broken tiling. People pointed fingers at them with wide eyes. For them it was a performance. A girl in the hood with untraceable appearance followed a young witcher behind.

But soon some looked in the distance.

A fire burned there, giving birth to the column of smoke.

Alan took Ciri's hand and teleported them forward from one roof to another. They moved as fast as they can, but it still took several minutes to get close.

"In broad daylight! How can it be?" - complained an old man in bright golden clothes.

"Why can't it be? Poor quarters, what do you expect from them? Uneducated, immoral. When I was young, such things would have never happened! World was more honest, a better place. Now the young are lost in their gatherings and useless talking about art. They spend rime not for honest work in the winery, but for baseless dreams." - added another with a bushy mustache and long whiskers.

"Yeah, my grandson even said I need to give days off and monthly pay for my slaves! Can you imagine? Insanity!" - agreed the first, looked at the duo hopping over the fence and shook his head. - "Just look at that. Running like that. Where are the morals? Depravity of community is progressing!"

Alan and Ciri didn't even blink at the two old men, their attention was won over by a burning house inside the small courtyard.

"What are you standing there for? Bring the water! Put out the fire!" - Alan shouted at the crowd of people. They were standing there without purpose, only watching.

Finally, after his shout first people moved.

They lined up and brought out baskets to fill them from the port. Alan took the only full one and poured it over himself.

"Wait here."

Ciri nodded, but didn't just stood there doing nothing.

'I'm a sorceress. Yes, I am. I can use magic. Water. I need water. River.'

She looked at the distance, where the port was, and reached out to the power of water. Here, in the mild climate, it was everywhere. It answered the call. Gentle, ever-changing, yet very powerful. It gave the power willingly.

Ciri hid herself in the alley and whispered several incantations.

She was calling for the rain with all gathered might, but didn't notice activation of her bloodline. It flared up with the spell, gladly offering support. Ciri felt her head trembling with pain.

The sky darkened, thunder raged there, and seconds later a real downpour came.

Alan jumped out of the window when he felt magic and found the girl leaning on the wall.

"That was reckless."

"I... wanted to help..."

He said nothing more, hugged her and lead away from the site.

"Ciri, that was unnecessary. No one survived the attack. They were killed, but before that interrogated."

"Why? They did nothing wrong! Who did this? Just why?"

Alan looked at the sky. Eagle cried out there. He found no strength to tell her the real reason. It was because of her.

"Looks like we can't stay here for long. After taking care of the contract, we need to leave this place." - he hid Ciri under his cloak, while she gripped Alan tightly. - "You can cry if you want."

"I won't. Witchers don't cry. I'm a witcher. So I won't cry. I won't." - she said and raised her head. Now usually bright forest green eyes were full of tears.

"Let's go." - he looked at the eagle in the sky and knew where to find them.

* * *

"He-he... that was fun. Girly was alright, he-he." - smiled a man with nearly black teeth.

"All ya think of with this empty skull of yars are girlies and booze, jackass." - snorted another sitting by his side.

"The fuck! Imma think about killing too. And our job. Boss, wha' now?"

"Shut up! We will find them first and money ours. Trust me, yeah!" - said a man with slight madness inside his gaze. He sensed the smell of his favourite thing in the world. He sniffed the air under the cawing laughter of the gang. - "I tell ya, we willa be rich. I smell gold, buddies. Trust me."

The fat guy raised a mug with strong alcohol and downed it down in one gulp.

"What's next, boss? Fucking knights trying to order us around. Imma don't like it, ya know."

"Tch.. bitches willa die one day." - waved his hand the man and sniffed fisctech from the table. - "Damn, that stuff hits like a giant. Wow... man... good stuff! Listen boyas, we need to find the girly soonar, yeah! Soonar than those pussyliking idiots in armor, he-he. We will go..."

At that very second, the door experienced its last moments. Tremendous impact smashed it and sent flying through the room.

"Fu...!" - that was the last thing one of the thugs said. Next moment wood rammed at him on breakneck speed. His skull exploded like a watermelon.

"Fuck! They killed Tilly!"

But everything was too late. Two people entered right after the door with swords in hands.

The closest to them was decapitated without even realizing how. The face on the head spinning in the air said how surprised he was, while his body stood in place for a brief time, sending jets of blood high in the air.

His heart stopped fast, and the body collapsed. Wooden floor trembled and dust rose like a cloud of mist. Everything in the room became a mess.

Young man in black armor was a cold-blooded reaper. He killed them like a demon of ice, without emotions. The girl, in contrast, raged like a lioness.

They didn't talk, didn't stop, and didn't show mercy. When thugs finally get over the first shock, half of their people were on the ground, dead or without limbs.

Blood was everywhere, even on the ceiling.

"Fucking shit!" - cried Vercta and stared at the young man. - "Ya! Ya fuck! Ya the lad!"

But he received no answer, only another of his men fell to the ground.

One of the headhunters finally got an idea. He raised a crossbow and fired at the smaller figure. Ciri heard the bowstring and turned around, only to welcome the bolt right in front of her eyes. The world froze and fear rocked her heart for a moment.

Then turquoise light ripped the air in front of her open. Bolt disappeared in the crack. Alan waved his hand, bending space like some rubber, cleaved it with the sword and bolt flew out again, finding a target in the thug with a crossbow in hands.

However, before it can reach the destination, another bowstring rang. Alan felt the bolt flying past him and reaching Ciri.

At this moment everything she learned in Kaer Morhen paid off. She shifted her body slightly and her sword deflected the bolt. It rammed into the wall, trembled after the impact, and remained there.

Alan teleported, impaling the last thug on his sword.

"W-Why?" - asked Vercta still standing only because Alan didn't remove the blade from the wound.

"Orphanage. You burned it."

"That? Because of that? Because of... those measly shits? Because of such... crap... fuck!" - he said while coughing blood out. - "T-Trust... me..."

Alan removed the sword and kicked the man away. He flew through the air, slammed into the wall, and broke his neck with a loud crash.

Silence descended inside the small room in the forgotten shack by the edge of the city.

"I..." - Ciri trembled, but that wasn't the first time she killed. Back in Thanedd she faced enemies and was forced to take life. That wasn't new to her, yet now they did it not in self defense, but attacked first.

"What were you thinking?" - screamed Alan at her and Ciri jumped in surprise. She stared at him with wide eyes. - "Are you tired of living? Why didn't you dodge the bolt instead of deflecting it with the sword? I know you could have avoided it!"

"I wanted to try." - she said with anger, but evaporated the moment she saw the look in his eyes.

There she found fear. Fear for her.

"I'm sorry... but... can we leave?"

Alan looked around and breathed out.

"Let's go. But first..." - he took out a potion from the inner belt and found a basket.

"What is this?"

"Simple way to take care of tracks. Wait, I'll go fill it with water."

"I can help." - Ciri waved her hand in precise gesture and water entered the sheck through the crack I the window. - "From the well nearby."

Alan nodded and placed the basket in the middle of the room.

"Now go out."

He poured the potion inside the basket, took the torch and left it by the entrance. Purple smoke appeared around the diluted potion and went in every direction of the room. Every flesh, blood or bones it touched evaporated like they were never there, but when it touched fire, a little spark went out.

Alan and Ciri walked away. Today was a day of two fires. The second one left only scorched ground and went out on its own.