The road back to Novigrad stretched before them, the city's lights glowed in the distance, its towers and spires silhouetted, the sounds of the outskirts, the barking of dogs, the murmur of voices from the shantytowns, the distant clatter of a cart faded as they rode. Lambert was unusually quiet. His yellow eyes were fixed on the road ahead, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. Sebastian could see the furrow in his brow.
"Who the hell was that guy?" Lambert finally said, "I don't get chills, but I got chills from him.."
Sebastian glanced at him, surprised. Lambert was not the type to admit something like that.
"Look," Lambert continued, shaking his head, "I'm not rusty or anything, but I swear, I did not notice him in the auction. Not once, not even a glimpse, and I could literally describe everyone there from my memory alone."
Sebastian was quiet for a moment, replaying the events of the night in his mind. He had scanned the room. He had catalogued every face, every potential threat, every exit. He had been thorough.
And yet.
"If you're not rusty," Sebastian said slowly, "then I'm the one who's rusty. Because I didn't see him either, and I monitored the entire place." He paused. "We even saw Velm make a run for it among the crowd and we saw everyone react to us running after him."
Lambert unconsciously looked behind him, as if expecting the dwarf to be behind them through the darkness. The road behind them was empty.
"Maybe we should have questioned that damn dwarf a bit more," Lambert muttered. "Pressed him a little and found out what he actually wanted and he really knew about all of this."
Sebastian was silent for a long moment.
"I don't think he's a dwarf at all," Sebastian said finally.
Lambert's head snapped toward him. "A doppler!" Lambert's eyes widened. "Shit. How did I miss that?"
"Possible," Sebastian said. "Or could be something else."
Lambert laughed. "What, then? Some sort of demon?" He shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous, he is clearly a doppler. They like to sniff around things like that, auctions, artifacts. Deals that go sideways, they're opportunists, that's how they survive, and novigrad is a place that thrives on opportunities."
Sebastian was still quiet. His fingers brushed the mask tucked into his belt.
"You might be right," Sebastian said. But his voice carried no conviction.
They rode in silence for a while, the city growing closer with each step. The Oxenfurt Gate loomed ahead, its massive doors still open, its torches burning low. The guards paid them no attention as they passed.
The inn where they were staying appeared around a corner, a familiar sight, its windows dark save for a single candle burning in the common room. The stable was quiet, their actual horses within shifting and snorting in their sleep.
Lambert dismounted from the horse he stole and slapped him and the horse got away on his own, then he got on his actual horse.
Sebastian turned to look at him. "You coming in?"
Lambert shook his head. "I won't be staying the night, I'm leaving this city."
Sebastian's brows rose. "Really? Leaving so soon?"
Lambert met his gaze. His expression was unreadable.
"Yeah," Lambert said. "I don't want to stay in this city any longer. Been here for a few days and I already hate it." He paused. "But since you got here... it's been great, Seb. Partnering with you on this."
Sebastian had not expected this, Lambert was not the type to offer compliments, not the type to admit to enjoying anyone's company.
"Even though I still don't understand why you bothered with Whoreson's son and all," Lambert continued, "it was nice to partner with a familiar face, the Path gets very lonely sometimes."
Sebastian smiled. "Fine, then. I won't stop you."
Lambert's smirk returned. "As if you could."
"Seriously, though," Lambert said, his tone shifting. "I hope you find Dandelion and give him a smack for me. But take some advice and try not to deal with Whoreson or that fellow Djikstra, they are bad news."
Sebastian's smile faded. "I'll try."
Lambert snorted. "Yeah... that means you will.. Oh well fuck it." His expression grew more serious. "Dandelion is a troublemaker, you'll probably find him near the nearest screaming woman in this city. That's how he operates. He finds trouble, and trouble finds him."
Sebastian laughed. "I'll see what I can do, I'm not really worried about him, he is a like a cockroach he somehow survives everything."
Lambert gathered his reins. "Good luck, Seb. See you in Winter." He paused, his voice dropping to a growl. "And for the love of everything that is decent in this world, DO NOT MENTION THIS TO THE OTHERS."
Sebastian's smile widened, he raised a hand in farewell as Lambert nudged his horse into motion.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Sebastian called after him.
He watched Lambert ride away, his silhouette growing smaller against the darkness, the sound of his horse's hooves fading into the night.
Then, very quietly, Sebastian whispered to no one,
"As if I'll keep it a secret. This would be such a funny story to tell."
He chuckled to himself, then sighed. The mask was warm against his hip, its runes pulsing faintly in the moonlight. He looked at it, then at the dark shape of the inn, then at the distant lights of the Temple Isle.
"Well," Sebastian murmured. "I got a dwarf who might be a doppler, or some demon, or whatever, and Dijkstra with his little favor to worry about now."
He looked up at the stars, scattered across the sky.
"I can't believe visiting a friend turned out to be this eventful."
He led the mare into the stable, removing her saddle and bridle. He brushed her down, checked her hooves, gave her a portion of oats and a handful of hay. She huffed at him, her disgruntled expression softening.
"Good girl," Sebastian murmured, patting her neck. "You did well tonight you donkey, now go back to your master or whatever."
She snorted and buried her nose in her feed bucket.
"Or you can stay here.." Seb said calmly.
Sebastian left the stable and entered the inn. The common room was dark and empty, save for the fire and the shape of the innkeeper's wife sleeping in a chair near the hearth. She stirred as he passed, muttering something in her sleep, then settled back into silence.
Sebastian climbed the stairs to his room. He undressed slowly, placing the mask carefully on the nightstand. He lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind churning with everything that had happened.
Whoreson Jr. The hound of the Wild Hunt in the seweres of Novigrad. The auction. Velm. The chase. The dwarf. Lambert leaving.
He reached out and touched the mask. The runes were still on his mind.
'Time is a river to men. Space is a wall to all. To the Elder Blood, they are neither.'
Sebastian closed his eyes.
His body ached from the day's exertions, the sewers, the chase, the tension of the auction, the endless alertness that came with being a witcher in a city that was never truly safe. The mattress beneath him was lumpy, the pillow thin, but it was a bed, and that was enough.
He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position.
"I wonder how Ciri and Geralt are doing," Sebastian murmured, his voice low and drowsy.
He pictured them, Geralt, with his grim expression and his unyielding determination. Ciri, with her ashen hair and her fierce, defiant eyes. They were out there, somewhere, chasing answers, chasing each other.
"I do hope they find answers," Sebastian continued, his words growing slower and heavier. "And if Ciri is really still being pursued by her Father..."
He trailed off. The thought of Emhyr var Emreis, the White Flame, sent a chill through him even now. The Emperor of Nilfgaard was not a man to be trifled with. He was not a man to be underestimated. And he wanted Ciri, not for himself, not really, but for what she represented. For what her blood could give him.
Sebastian's brow furrowed in the darkness.
"Oh," he said, "Dijkstra is a spy... I might ask him about that. Without mentioning Ciri, of course. Though it would be weird for a Witcher to ask about the Emperor of Nilfgaard..."
He sighed. The thought of navigating that conversation, of extracting information from a spymaster without revealing his own hand was exhausting. Dijkstra was no fool. He would see through any clumsy attempt at subtlety. He would know that Sebastian was fishing for something.
"I'll worry about that later," Sebastian muttered.
His thoughts drifted about Ciri. Always Ciri, the girl who had grown up beside him in the cold halls of Kaer Morhen, who had laughed and sparred and learned alongside him.
"I hope you're okay, Cirilla," Sebastian thought.
The thought faded, then he too, was still. Sebastian slept.
/-\
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