‘Let’s go,’ said Geralt, pulling wet seaweed from his collar. ‘Dandelion? Where’s my sword?’ Dandelion choked, pointing at an empty place at the foot of a wall. ‘A moment ago . . . They were here a moment ago! Your sword and your jacket. They’ve been stolen! The fucking bastards! They’ve been stolen! Hey, you there! There was a sword here! Give it back! Come on! Oh, you whoresons! Damn you!’
