And chimerae, manticores and amphisboenas? They dwell in virgin forests and inaccessible mountains—'
'So I was right. Something is coming to an end. Whether you like it or not, something's coming to an end.'
'I don't like you mouthing banal platitudes. I don't like your expression when you do it. What's happening to you? I don't recognise you, Geralt. Ah, plague on it, let's go south as soon as possible, to those wild countries. As soon as you've cut down a couple of monsters, your blues will disappear. And there's supposed to be a fair number of monsters down there. They say that when an old woman's tired of life, she goes alone and weaponless into the woods to collect brushwood. The consequences are guaranteed. You should go and settle there for good.'
'Maybe I should. But I won't.'
'Why? It's easier for a witcher to make money there.'
'Easier to make money,' Geralt took a sip from the demijohn. 'But harder to spend it. And on top of that, they eat pearl barley and millet, the beer tastes like piss, the girls don't wash and the mosquitoes bite.'
Dandilion chuckled loudly and rested his head against the bookshelf, on the leather-bound volumes.
'Millet and mosquitoes! That reminds me of our first expedition together to the edge of the world,' he said. 'Do you remember? We met at the fete in Gulet and you persuaded me—'
'You persuaded me! You had to flee from Gulet as fast as your horse could carry you because the girl you'd knocked up under the musicians' podium had four sturdy brothers. They were looking for you all over town, threatening to geld you and cover you in pitch and sawdust.
That's why you hung on to me then.'
'And you almost jumped out of your pants with joy to have a companion. Until then you only had your horse for company. But you're right, it was as you say. I did have to disappear for a while, and the Valley of Flowers seemed just right for my purpose. It was, after all, supposed to be the edge of the inhabited world, the last outpost of civilisation, the furthest point on the border of two worlds . . . Remember?'
'I remember.'