Polyanna: A Witcher's Mage

4 | The Bathhouse & Sewers

Geralt couldn't help but think Euphemiya was hiding something from him. From the moment they met in Kaer Morhen, when they were teenagers for fuck's sake, they told each other everything. Geralt went to her whenever he doubted his relationship with Yennefer, or Triss, or when he wasn't sure if he was doing well with Ciri. Shit, Euphemiya even acted as a mother figure to Ciri, something he was eternally grateful for. 

But now, he wasn't sure about her. 

Or maybe he was thinking too much of it. She probably spent her evening reading to the birds in her garden. 

He waited her from the corner of his eye as Happen, Sigi Reuven's assistant, prattled on about his undying loyalty. He had already changed out of his clothes, a must when entering the bathhouse, and was now waiting for Euphemiya to do the same.

At long last, the sorceress finally stepped out from the room, in nothing but a white towel. Geralt couldn't help but stare at her little frame, enraptured. 

This was the least he'd ever seen her wear in the ninety years he knew her.

"Geralt?" Euphemiya said quite loudly, her face a bit red. "Let's go?" 

"Yes." He quickly shook out of it, forcing himself to think of other things. He turned to Happen. "Lead the way." 

"Certainly. He awaits in the next room." 

The three of them walked to the farthest room. Euphemiya kept as close to Geralt as she could, ignoring social norms as she was uncomfortable with the male stares. She pointedly ignored the bottom half they presented to her.

Geralt opened the door, causing all the men inside to look at them.

"Reuven - your guests," a bald man with crude tattoos said.

Reuven turned to look at them as they walked closer. She saw that is was actually Sigismund Dijkstra, the head of Redenian Intelligence. Euphemiya was one of the few to know him personally.

"Why the fuck did you let him and his wench in here?"  a dwarf asked, nearing aggression.

"Because I wanted to talk to him. Gentlemen, this is Geralt of Rivia and his companion Euphemiya Haywood,"

"Aye, who don't know Haywood?" the tattooed man grinned. He nodded at Geralt. "Good to see you again." 

"Geralt a friend from the old days," Dijkstra said, upon seeing the look on the dwarf's face. "Although-" He stopped.

Everyone turned to look at the door the pair just came through.

"Got intruders. Someone just snuck inside the bathhouse. Several men," Geralt said, fully turning his body towards the door.

"Bloody hell, I fuckin' knew it," the dwarf spat as a woman was attacked by one of the intruders. Several men, it seemed.

"Miya hide," Geralt said, pushing her towards the baths inside the room. "I'll come get you." 

Euphemiya quickly did as she was told as the men went to kill the assassins.

She closed her eyes, wishing she would let her fear go, for once, to help Geralt. But she couldn't. She couldn't use her magic as a means to hurt someone. Not again. 

Nothing, no one, was worth standing around hundreds of bodies.

She stared at her hands, willing the images to disappear. Of course, they never did.

"Miya,"

She jumped when Geralt put a hand on her shoulder, a look of concern on his scarred face. "What is it?"

"Just thinking." She gingerly stood up, noting he was already dressed. How long was she lost in her own thoughts?

"You'll tell me when we get home," he then said, lifting her out of the tub. "Get dressed; we're going in the sewers." 

"Is that a euphemism?"

He chuckled. "I wish," 

Euphemiya got dressed in her violet dress and followed Geralt and Dijkstra into the sewers. As she walked, her bare feet sensed another presence nearby. Heavy, large, and non-human. 

Geralt fiercely pushed Euphemiya behind him once the presence revealed itself to be a rock troll. Though, surprisingly, its first move wasn't to attack them, but to continue bashing its head against the wall.

"Bashing your head against the wall won't change anything," Dijkstra said sternly.

"Bart hurt, Bart less thinky. Bart less thinky, Bart sadless," the troll continued in agony.

"Why'd you bring us here?" Geralt asked, calming down (though he still held Euphemiya behind him).

"Take note of that hole, we'll come back to it later." Dijkstra pointed at the enormous hole in the wall close to them. "And see that door? Vault behind it - until recently filled with crowns and countless other valuables." 

"Bart guard! Then boom! Chorfun go!" 

"The thief went off with your valuables?" Euphemiya translated.

"Precisely. And you're gonna help me get it back," Dijkstra said to Geralt.

"I've got important matters to attend to," Geralt answered in slight annoyance.

"Help me with this and I'll help you," Dijkstra offered.

Geralt was tempted, very tempted, to use Axii on the man, but he knew that the spy would remember everything, which would only mean trouble for Geralt in the future. Plus, Dijkstra was a powerful man, so that 'help' he offered would come in handy later.

"Fine. I'll help you," Geralt sighed. "Oughta look around, but first, I have questions."

As Geralt questioned Dijkstra, Euphemiya inched closer to the troll, curious.

"Bart less thinky!"

"Aw, it's all right," she said. "We all make mistakes." 

"Boom! Bart look no, only sleep. Bad 'shrooms - head fooz," 

"There was a boom?" Euphemiya helped. 

"And Pops mold," Dijkstra added. "Mold spores. They cover the walls of the sewers other side of the vault. Actually thought it was a good thing, extra protection, but thieves found a way in."

"We should brew a Pops Mold Antidote," Euphemiya suggested. "I've got a formula somewhere in my purse." 

Dijkstra left them to investigate.

"What the hell has Dandelion gotten himself into?" Geralt muttered to himself.