Watching Serrit eat with such obvious enjoyment made it hard for Victor to accept just how awful Letho's roasted fish actually was—charred on the outside, raw in the middle. If witchers didn't have bodies like iron, they'd probably be suffering diarrhea every single day.
Acting like nothing was wrong, Victor tore off the burnt skin, set it back near the flames to re-roast, and listened to Letho's voice.
"We were able to arrive in time and help you deal with the bruxa because we've been paying attention to you… No. If we're being honest, we've been watching you. Because you don't make sense."
The cross-shaped scar on Letho's bald head stood out starkly. He propped his chin with his left hand, fingers idly stroking the heavy stubble along his jaw.
"Not long ago, Serrit and I met up with Auckes. He said that last month in Vizima he'd run into an apprentice he admired—a Cat School apprentice. His mentor had died, so he was making his own way. His determination to become a witcher was unwavering, and he could make a Dancing Star so beautiful that, until you see it with your own eyes, you can't imagine anything so dazzling and brilliant."
Victor calmly picked up the fish, inspected the color of the meat, then set it back beside the fire to keep heating.
"So Serrit and I decided to come take a look. If he really was worth shaping, the School of the Viper would be willing to take him in and train him." Letho's deep voice rolled on steadily. "The strange part was this: when I came to observe for myself, I saw a Wolf School medallion on him. Cat and wolf medallions do look similar, but they carry two completely different meanings.
"Cat School, fine—calling them stray cats isn't exactly baseless. But if you're a Wolf School apprentice, you have Kaer Morhen to return to. Vesemir is there. The lineage won't die out. There's no reason for an apprentice to be wandering alone.
"And you claimed to be Cat School, with your 'mentor is dead' story making you even more suspicious. If you hadn't been consistently doing witcher work, we would've met much earlier—and it wouldn't have been in a friendly mood like this.
"So tell me, Wolf School apprentice Victor: why are you here alone? Did you betray your school and steal their formulas?"
Victor's expression didn't change. "No. I didn't betray my school. I'm working alone because Lambert, who was traveling with me, had other business and left early—and he trusted that I had the strength to survive on my own. In fact, as you can see, I've been living comfortably in Vizima. I eat well, I'm safe in the Temple Quarter, and even against a bruxa I can withdraw without getting killed."
A hint of a smile tugged at Letho's stone-cut face. "Convincing. I'll admit you make sense. No apprentice should be able to survive a bruxa—let alone leave her in that kind of shape. You're almost a fully grown witcher, except you haven't undergone mutations yet.
"And you even tossed in the name Lambert. Nice touch. I'm almost ready to believe you.
"By the way, I don't know if you were lucky or unlucky. That bruxa was a rare kind—her vocal cords mutated and specialized. Her fear scream is stronger than the usual type, and in a chamber built for echoing sound like that, even a mutated witcher could die in there. The lucky part is that her vocal cords are extremely valuable material. When we're done talking, don't forget to take a piece with you."
"My sincere thanks for your generosity."
"Don't mention it. You earned it. We didn't use Black Blood this time, and vampire blood alone was a massive haul."
Black Blood was a witcher potion tailored for vampires. You drank it to make your blood toxic—so if a vampire bit you and fed, the poison would flood into its body and make it collapse fast. The downside was that once Black Blood tainted your blood, that "vampire blood" lost its active properties and could no longer be used as alchemy material.
Victor's unbelievable alchemy let him reduce toxicity and drink most witcher potions in a heavily "neutered" form—but something like Black Blood, which relied on harming yourself first to harm the enemy, was pointless for him. If he couldn't poison himself, he couldn't poison the vampire either.
…
The moon climbed above the branches. The night wind blew, cool and crisp with autumn.
"There's only one last question before I fully believe you," Letho said. "Explain this: why did you claim you were a Cat School apprentice?"
"Because I didn't want people to know I'm a Wolf School apprentice—good at alchemy, especially bombs."
Letho thought for a moment, then nodded in approval.
By this point, everything that needed explaining had been laid out. Serrit and Auckes had been standing far off, but their ears had been catching every word. The two of them returned to the campfire together and sat down.
Serrit still sat with the same cold face, saying nothing. Auckes, as always, wore a smiling expression like he was delighted by something no one else understood.
"Don't mind him," Letho said when he noticed Victor's confusion. "The aftereffects of the Trial of the Grasses dulled their emotional sense."
"Hey, boss, don't make it sound like I'm defective," Auckes protested, settling in comfortably and grabbing his own fish. "I'm very satisfied with my mental state. Optimistic, motivated, happy! Just like Batman. Right, Victor?"
That sudden shot hit Victor so cleanly he almost sprang to his feet. He stared at the cheerful witcher in disbelief.
Auckes stiffened his face and lowered his voice in an overly serious whisper. "I am… Batman!" Then he switched to a dramatic stage voice, like he was performing in a grand theater. "Gentlemen! Ladies! Remember this day forever—you almost caught the world-famous Batman! Hahahahahaha!"
It was so spot-on it made Victor squirm.
Smack!
Letho's huge palm slammed down onto Victor's shoulder, jolting his whole body. "Hehehe! Don't be so tense. Last week, all three of us saw it with our own eyes, heard it with our own ears, and cheered together for Batman's escape show!" That granite face was full of mischievous, triumphant grin.
Victor understood immediately. If they'd been watching him, then discovering Batman was inevitable. And there was no way they were going to catch Batman by chasing Batman—if their real goal was the apprentice behind him.
After laughing, Letho returned to a serious, sober look. Sitting cross-legged, he gave a slight bow.
"Relax. We'll keep your secret. And sorry—when we couldn't tell friend from foe, we did quite a bit of investigating. Following your movements, searching your room…" He paused, then raised a thumbs-up. "Those little gadgets were interesting. And the bat suit's gliding function is rare."
Victor finally saw it clearly: Letho looked like an icy, deadly type, but in front of people he accepted, he could joke—and he had a sly streak. Teaming up with Auckes, he'd played Victor beautifully.
Victor's face was full of helpless resignation. "You're impressive. You followed me for a week and I didn't notice a thing. Even Angoulême didn't catch it."
Auckes chuckled. "Of course. Look at what school we are. When it comes to hiding and stalking, nothing beats the Viper."
Serrit finally spoke, voice cold with mockery. "Says the weak little snake who got noticed by him last month."
While Victor hadn't been looking, Serrit had quietly brought over several bottles of liquor and set them beside the fire.
Letho grabbed one and lifted it toward Victor. "You drink?"
"It would be my honor. And thank you—for the help." Victor raised his bottle with both hands and toasted each of the three Viper witchers in turn.
On Lake Vizima's shore, where snake and wolf played, they drank until dawn.
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