“What does it matter what I call it?” The Witcher smiled wryly. “The essence is not in the name, Mousesack. Why ought I to ride to Cintra? I have already been to Cintra; I have already, as you described it, crossed paths. What of it?” “Geralt, you demanded a vow from Calanthe, then from Pavetta and her husband. The vow has been kept. Ciri is the Child of Destiny. Destiny demands…” “That I take the child and turn her into a witcher? A little girl? Take a good look at me, Mousesack. Can you imagine me as a comely lass?”
