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divulge. But as for loyalty ... I am loyal. And believe me, in this matter I can be loyal to both
you and to the Chapter.'
'Such double loyalty' - Geralt looked her in the eyes for the first time that evening - 'is
devilishly difficult to manage. Rarely does it succeed, Triss.'
The enchantress turned her gaze on Ciri. The girl was sitting on a bearskin with Coen, tucked
away in the far corner of the hall, and both were busy playing a hand-slapping game. The
game was growing monotonous as both were incredibly quick - neither could manage to slap
the other's hand in any way. This, however, clearly neither mattered to them nor spoiled their
game.
'Geralt,' she said, 'when you found Ciri, on the Yaruga, you took her with you. You brought
her to Kaer Morhen, hid her from the world and do not let even those closest to the child
know she is alive. You did this because something - about which I know nothing - convinced
you that destiny exists, holds sway over us, and guides us in everything we do. I think the
same, and have always done so. If destiny wants Ciri to become a magician, she will become
one. Neither the Chapter nor the Council have to know about her, they don't have to observe
or encourage her. So in keeping your secret I won't betray the Chapter in any way. But as you
know, there is something of a hitch here.'
'Were it only one,' sighed Vesemir. 'Go on, child.'
'The girl has magical abilities, and that can't be neglected. It's too dangerous.'
'In what way?'
'Uncontrolled powers are an ominous thing. For both the Source and those in their vicinity.
The Source can threaten those around them in many ways. But they threaten themselves in
only one. Mental illness. Usually catatonia.'
'Devil take it,' said Lambert after a long silence. 'I am listening to you half-convinced that
someone here has already lost their marbles and will, any moment now, present a threat to the
rest of us. Destiny, sources, spells, hocus-pocus . . . Aren't you exaggerating,
Merigold? Is this the first child to be brought to the Keep? Geralt didn't find destiny; he found
another homeless, orphaned child. We'll teach the girl the sword and let her out into the world
like the others. True, I admit we've never trained a girl in Kaer Morhen before. We've had
some problems with Ciri, made mistakes, and it's a good thing you've pointed them out to us.
But don't let us exaggerate. She is not so remarkable as to make us fall on our knees and raise
our eyes to the heavens. Is there a lack of female warriors roaming the world? I assure you,
Merigold, Ciri will leave here skilful and healthy, strong and able to face life. And, I warrant,
without catatonia or any other epilepsy. Unless you delude her into believing she has some
such disease.'
'Vesemir,' Triss turned in her chair, 'tell him to keep quiet, he's getting in the way.'
'You think you know it all,' said Lambert calmly, 'but you don't. Not yet. Look.'
He stretched his hand towards the hearth, arranging his fingers together in a strange way. The
chimney roared and howled, the flames burst out violently, the glowing embers grew brighter
and rained sparks. Geralt, Vesemir and Eskel glanced at Ciri anxiously but the girl paid no
attention to the spectacular fireworks.
Triss folded her arms and looked at Lambert defiantly.
'The Sign of Aard,' she stated calmly. 'Did you think to impress me? With the use of the same
sign, strengthened through concentration, will-power and a spell, I can blow the logs from the
chimney in a moment and blast them so high you will think they are stars.'
'You can,' he agreed. 'But Ciri can't. She can't form the Sign of Aard. Or any other sign. She
has tried hundreds of times, to no effect. And you know our Signs require minimal power.
Ciri does not even have that. She is an absolutely normal child. She has not the least magical
power - she has, in fact, a comprehensive lack of ability. And here you are telling us she's a
Source, trying to threaten us
A Source,' she explained coldly, 'has no control over their skills, no command over them.
They are a medium, something like a
transmitter. Unknowingly they get in touch with energy, unknowingly they convert it. And
when they try to control it, when they strain trying to form the Signs perhaps, nothing comes
of it. And nothing will come of it, not just after hundreds of attempts but after thousands. It is
one characteristic of a Source. Then, one day, a moment comes when the Source does not
exert itself, does not strain, is daydreaming or thinking about cabbage and sausages, playing
dice, enjoying themselves in bed with a partner, picking their nose . . . and suddenly
something happens. A house might goes up in flames. Or sometimes, half a town goes up.'
'You're exaggerating, Merigold.'
'Lambert.' Geralt released his medallion and rested his hands on the table. 'First, stop calling
Triss "Merigold". She has asked you a number of times not to. Second, Triss is not [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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