Baptism of Fire (The Witcher #3)

by Andrzej Sapkowski

“Everyone has some kind of debt,” replied Eithné. “Such is life, Maria Barring. Debts and liabilities, obligations, gratitude, payments… Doing something for someone. Or perhaps for ourselves? For in fact we are always paying ourselves back and not someone else. Each time we are indebted we pay off the debt to ourselves. In each of us lies a creditor and a debtor at once and the art is for the reckoning to tally inside us. We enter the world as a minute part of the life we are given, and from then on we are ever paying off debts. To ourselves. For ourselves. In order for the final reckoning to tally.”

“Fire purges. And hardens. It must be passed through. Aenyell’hael, ell’ea, sor’ca? In your tongue: a baptism of fire.”

Men are psychologically unstable, too prone to emotions; not to be relied upon in moments of crisis.

Her green eyes flashed and he shuddered, seeing so much evil and cold hatred in them.

One of the men who had jumped down from the wagon hesitated on hearing the order. Geralt, however, had already drawn his own sword and didn’t hesitate for a second.

Do you forgive me? Or should I say sorry by kissing you?”

But the thing I like least is that she leaves a trail of death.”

“But I can feel it. There’s fire ahead of her and death behind her. I have to make haste.”

He was also being troubled by overwhelming, disheartening, exceptionally unpleasant feelings, alien feelings he had never experienced before and was unable to deal with. Helplessness and resignation.

They were astonished one morning to be overtaken by a riderless horse, the chestnut colt. The green saddlecloth embroidered with Nilfgaardian symbols was stained with dark streaks of blood. There was no way of knowing if it was the blood of the horseman who had been killed near the hawker’s wagon or if it had been spilt later, when the horse had acquired a new owner. “Well, that takes care of the problem,” Milva said, glancing at Geralt. “If it ever really was a problem.”

What’s so funny?

I prefer ghouls to humans.”

Subject it to a baptism of fire! We shall not allow any woman who dabbles in witchcraft to live!”

“The blood smells nice,”

“I understand and thank you,” the vampire said, smiling.

For a war is raging, and disinformation is a weapon whose blade must always be kept sharp.

“He who has spilt blood and he who has drunk blood,” the girl said, her head still lowered, “shall pay in blood. Within three days one shall die in the other, and something shall die in each. They shall die inch by inch, piece by piece… And when finally the iron-shod clogs wear out and the tears dry, then the last shreds will pass. Even that which never dies shall die.”

In this rotten world, Zoltan Chivay, goodness, honesty and integrity become deeply engraved in the memory.”

call myself that to make my name sound fancier. It’s an addition that inspires more trust in my clients.”