The Road With No Return

by Andrzej Sapkowski
As published in the anthology
Something Ends, Something Beings

fan-translation based on the official German translation,

Der Weg, von dem niemand zurckkehrt, aus
Etwas endet, etwas beginnt,
published in 2012 by dtv

Updated: Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Progress: finished
(based on the ebook)

Translated by
Tina B.
cayastrife@gmail.com

Disclaimer: This body of work is a fan translation and not meant to infringe copyright or
produce profit. It is being created for the sole purpose of allowing fans to familiarize
themselves with works which have not yet received an official translation. As soon as the
latter is available, this document will no longer be hosted.

Translators notes can be found at the end of the document.

 I

The bird with the colorful plumage resting on Visennas shoulder began to cry, batted
its wings, rose and glided into the underbrush. Visenna reined in her horse, listened for a
moment, then carefully continued along the forest path.
The man seemed to be asleep. He sat leaning his back against a pole set into the
middle of the crossroads. When she came closer, Visenna saw that his eyes were open.
Even before that, she had noticed that he was wounded. The makeshift bandage covering
his left shoulder and upper arm was soaked in blood which had not yet turned black.
Greetings, lad, the wounded man sounded and spit out a long shaft of grass.
Where are you riding to, if one may ask?
Visenna didnt like the lad. She threw back her hood.
One may ask, she retorted, but should justify ones curiosity.
Pardon me, Milady, the man said and narrowed his eyes. You wear mans clothing.
And regarding the curiosity: it is well justified! This here is an unusual crossroad. An
interesting adventure has befallen me here
I see, Visenna interrupted him and regarded the motionless, unnaturally bent figure
lying halfway hidden in a bush no more than ten steps from the pole.
The man looked in the same direction. Then their glances met. Visenna acted as if
she were brushing back her hair and touched the diadem that was hidden under the
snakeskin headband.
Ah yes, the wounded man said calmly. There is a corpse. You have quick eyes.
Surely you think me a bandit. Am I in the right?
You are not. Visenna said without taking her hand off the diadem.
Ah, the man moaned, Yes. Well
Your wound is bleeding.
Most wounds have that strange property. The injured man smiled. He had pretty
teeth.
Covered with a bandage applied with only one hand, it will bleed for quite a while.
Would you perhaps honor me with your help?
Visenna jumped off her horse, her heels leaving deep traces in the soft ground.
My name is Visenna, she said. I do not honor anyone. I also do not appreciate
being addressed in such a manner. Still I will treat your wound. Can you stand?
Yes. Do I have to?
No.
 Visenna, the man said while stretching slightly to allow her to remove the bandage
more easily. A pretty name. Has anyone told you, Visenna, that you have pretty hair? Its
called copper, isnt it?
No. Strawberry blond.
Ah. When youre done, I will give you a bunch of lupines that are growing in the ditch
over there. And while youre operating on me, just to pass the time, I will tell you what has
happened to me. I did, you know, come here the same way as you. And I see, there at the
crossroads, a pole. Yes, this one. And on this pole there is a board. That hurts.
Most wounds have that strange property. Visenna tore off the last layer of fabric
without even trying to be especially careful.
True, Id forgotten. Where was I Ah, yes. So I come closer, see whats on the
board. Horribly clumsy, I once knew an archer who could piss prettier letters in the snow. I
read And whats that supposed to be, Milady? What kind of stone is that? Oh, damn it. I
didnt expect that.
Visenna gently ran the hematite over the wound. The bleeding stopped immediately.
She closed her eyes and gripped the mans wounded arm with both hands, tightly pressing
the edges together. She let go the tissue had grown together, leaving behind nothing
more than a jagged, scarlet line.
The man was silent and watched attentively. Finally, he carefully raised his arm,
stretched it, rubbed the scar, shook his head. He adjusted the bloody shirt and doublet,
stood up, picked up the belt with the sword, money pouch and canteen. The belt buckle
was shaped like a dragons head.
Well, thats what you call luck, he said without taking his eyes off Visenna. I met a
healer in the middle of the wilderness, where the Yaruga meets the Ina, where one usually
is more likely to meet a werewolf or, even worse, a drunk lumberjack. What about payment
for my treatment? I am a little short on money at the moment. Will a bunch of lupines suffice?
Visenna ignored the question. She stepped closer to the pole, raised her head the
board was nailed on at a mans eye-level.
You, who come from the west, she read aloud. Go left and you will return. Go
right, and you will return. Go straight ahead, and you will not return. Nonsense.
My thoughts exactly, the man said while brushing pine needles off his pant leg. I
know this region. Going straight, which means east, you get to the Klamat pass, onto the
merchants road. Why should one be unable to return from there? Pretty girls who want to
marry? Cheap booze? An opening as mayor?
You digress, Korin.
The man opened his mouth in surprise. How do you know that my name is Korin?
You have only just said it yourself. Go on.
I have? The man scrutinized her distrustfully. Really? Well, perhaps Where was
I? Ah. So, I read and ask myself what idiot came up with that inscription. Suddenly, I hear
someone babbling and muttering behind my back. I look back and see an old hag, gray-
haired, crooked, with a cane, of course. I politely ask her what is wrong. She murmurs: Im
hungry, dear knight, havent had a bite since morning. I think, so the hag has at least one
tooth left. Im mighty touched, so from my knapsack I take a piece of bread and half a
smoked brace, which I received from a fisherman on the Yaruga, and give it to the old
woman. She sits down, chews, croaks, spits out fishbone. I keep looking at that strange
signpost. Suddenly the old woman sounds: Youre a good man, little knight, saved me,
should have a reward. I wanted to let her know where she can stick her reward, but then
the hag says: Come closer, I have something to whisper in your ear, an important secret,
how you can save many good people from woe, have fame and fortune.
Visenna sighed and sat down next to the wounded man. She liked him, tall, blond,
with a narrow face and pronounced chin. He didnt stink like most men she had met. She
shooed away the persistent thought that she had been aimlessly wandering the woods and
country roads by herself for too long.
Korin continued his tale: Hah, I thought, this is a classic opportunity. If the hag
doesnt have sclerosis and is still right in the head, then this may really prove useful for a
poor warrior. I bend down, stretch my neck like a bumbling idiot. And if my reflexes hadnt
worked, she would have got me straight in the throat. I jumped back, the blood gushing
from my arm like from a castle fountain, but the hag brandishes the knife, cries, sputters and
spits. I still didnt think it was serious. I go in close, to gain the advantage, and notice that
she isnt an old hag at all. Breasts as firm as flint
Korin squinted at Visenna to see if she had blushed. Visenna was listening with polite
interest.
Where was I Ah. I thought Id push her over and disarm her, but not a chance.
Strong as a lynx. I notice that her hand, which his holding the knife, is going to slip from my
grip any moment. What should I do? I pushed her away, drew the sword She ran into it
herself.
Visenna sat silent, her hand at her forehead, as if she were absentmindedly adjusting
the snakeskin headband.
Visenna? I say it as it was. I know it was a woman, and I feel stupid, but Ill croak if
that was a normal woman. Right after she fell, she transformed. She got younger.
An illusion, Visenna said thoughtfully.
What?
Nothing. Visenna stood up, walked over to the corpse lying in the undergrowth of
fern.
Look. Korin stepped up to her. A wench like a statue at the castles fountain. But
she was bent and wrinkled like the backside of a hundred-year-old cow. If
Korin, Visenna interrupted. Do you have a strong stomach?
Huh? What does my stomach have to do with this? But if youre interested I cant
complain.
Visenna removed the headband. The jeweled affixed to the diadem glowed in the
milky gleam of light. She positioned herself in front of the corpse, stretched out her hands,
closed her eyes. Korin watched, his mouth halfway open. Visenna slightly nodded her head,
whispered something he didnt understand.
Grealghane! she shouted suddenly.
 The undergrowth moved violently. Korin jumped back, drew his sword, froze in a
defensive posture. The corpse began to twitch.
Grealghane! Speak!
Aaaaaaa! A hoarse, tumescent cry sounded from the undergrowth. The corpse
bent, almost levitated, touching the ground with its back and head. The cry faded, turned
into a throaty stammer, broken sighs and screams, which slowly gained tonality but were
utterly incomprehensible. Korin felt a stream of cold sweat on his back, irritating him like a
creeping caterpillar. He balled his fists to suppress the tingling in his hands and with all his
might fought the overwhelming urge to flew into the depths of the forest.
Oggg nnnn nngammmmm, the corpse stammered while it clawed the ground
with its fingernails, blisters of blood welling out of its mouth and bursting on its lips. Nam
eeeggg
Speak!
A muddy stream of light seeped from Visennas outstretched hands; and in it, the
dust tumbled and accumulated. Dry leaves and stalks shot up from the undergrowth. The
corpse chocked, began to smack its lips and, suddenly, to talk. Quite comprehensibly.
Crossroads six miles south of the source. At most. Ssent. The Circle. A lad.
Slaugher. Ordered.
Who? Visenna yelled. Who gave the order? Speak!
Fffff ggg genal. All letters, sheets, rings, amulets.
Speak!
pass. The Koshchey. Genal. Take letters. Parchment. He comes from
Maaaaa! Eeeeeee! Naaaaaa!!!
The stammering voice began to vibrate, to dissolve into a horrible cry. Korin could
take it no longer, he dropped the sword, closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his ears.
So he stood until he felt a touch on his arm. He shivered violently, all over, as if someone
had hit him in the genitals.
It is over, Visenna said and wiped sweat off her forehead. I had enquired about
your stomach.
What a day, Korin groaned. He picked up the sword, pushed it into the sheath,
taking care not to glance in the direction of the now motionless corpse. Visenna?
Yes?
Lets get away from here. As far away from this place as possible.

II

Together, both of them on Visennas horse, they rode along an overgrown, uneven
forest path. She sat in front in the saddle, Korin on the croup, behind her, his arms wrapped
around her waist. Visenna had long since grown accustomed to enjoying the amenities that
fate offered her without second thoughts; so she contently leaned back against the mans
chest. Both remained silent.
After almost an hour it was Korin who first brought himself to speak. Visenna.
What is it?
Youre not just a healer. Youre from the Circle?
Yes.
Judging by that demonstration, a mistress?
Yes.
Korin let go of her waist and grabbed the pommel. Visenna angrily screwed up her
eyes. Of course he didnt see.
Visenna?
What is it?
Did you understand anything of what the said?
Not much.
Again they were silent. A colorful bird flying through the foliage above them screamed
loudly.
Visenna?
Korin, do me a favor.
Hm?
Stop talking. I want to think.
The forest road led them down into a ravine, to the bed of a shallow stream which
lazily meandered between stones and black tree trunks. The air smelled strongly of mint and
nettle. Once in a while the horse slipped on the stones, which were covered in clay and silt.
To keep from falling off, Korin again wrapped his arms around Visennas waist. He shooed
away the persistent thought that he had been aimlessly wandering the woods and country
roads by himself for too long.

III

The settlement was a typical roadside village, clinging to the mountainside, huts of
straw and wood, dirty, ducking between crooked fences. As they rode closer, dogs began
to bark. Visennas horse quietly plodded forward in the middle of the road and paid no heed
to the keen mutts stretching their foaming muzzles for its pasterns.
At first, they saw no one. Then, from behind the fences, from the paths leading
toward the farmsteads, appeared the residents they approached slowly, barefoot and with
sinister faces. They carried pitchforks, sticks and flails. Someone bent down and picked up
a stone.
Visenna reined in the horse, raised a hand. Korin saw that in it, she was holding a
small golden knife formed like a sickle.
I am a healer, she said in a voice that was clear and sonorous, but in no way loud.
The peasants lowered their weapons, began to murmur, exchanged glances. More
and more arrived. Some of those closest took off their caps.
What is the name of this settlement?
Key, it sounded from the crowd after a short silence.
Who is your alderman?
Topin, your ladyship. There, the hut.
Before they moved off, a woman holding an infant squeezed through the line of
countryfolk. Mistress, she moaned and carefully touched Visennas knee. My
daughter She is burning with a fever
Visenna jumped from the saddle, touched the childs small head, closed her eyes.
She will be healthy tomorrow. Dont wrap her up so tightly.
Thank you, your ladyship A thousand thanks
Topin, the alderman, was already in the yard, considering what to do with the
pitchfork he was holding. Finally, he used it to free the stairs from the mess left by the
chickens.
Pardon me, he said and leaned the fork against the wall. Milady. And you, milord.
Times are unsafe Please step in. Let us entertain you.
They went inside.
Topins wife, trailed by two flaxen-haired girls clinging to their mothers apron strings,
served scrambled eggs, bread and sour milk. Afterwards, she vanished into her chamber.
In contrast to Korin, Visenna ate little and was sullen and quiet. Topin rolled his eyes,
scratched himself in various places and talked.
Times are unsafe. Unsafe. We are not doing well, Milady. We raise sheep, whose
wool is meant to be sold, but since there are no merchants, were slaughtering the herd.
We slaughter the sheep to have food on the table. Back then, the merchants traveled around
Hornstone and Greenstone into the Amell, across the pass, where the pits are. They mine
hornstone there. And when the merchants passed, they also took wool, paid and left other
wares. Now there are no more merchants. Theres not even salt; whatever we slaughter we
have to eat within three days.
The merchants are steering clear of you? Why? Every once in a while Visenna
thoughtfully touched the headband.
They just do, Topin growled. The road to the Amell is closed, and that damned
koshchey has taken the pass and doesnt even let a single soul through. How are the
merchants supposed to come here? To die?
Korin froze, spoon suspended in midair.
 Koshchey? What is a koshchey?
Well, how should I know? The koshchey, they say, is a man-eater. Hes supposed
to sit on the pass.
And hes not letting the caravans through?
Topin looked around the hut. Some he does. His own, they say. Hes letting his own
through.
Visenna frowned. What do you mean: his own?
Well, his own, Topin murmured and blanched. The people of Amell have it even
worse than we do. We can at least feed on the forest a little. But they are sitting on bare
rock and only get what the koshcheys people sell for the hornstone. Which is bad, because
they are supposed to demand a high price for their wares, but what should the Amell people
do? They cant eat the hornstone after all.
What koshcheys people? Humans?
Humans and vrans and some others. Thugs is what they are, Milady. What they
take from us, they bring to the Amell and exchange it for hornstone and greenstone. They
take it from us forcefully. They have often robbed the villages, raped the girls, murdered
them, burnt them. Thugs. The koshcheys.
How many are they?
Who is supposed to count, Milord. The villages defend themselves, hold together.
And whats it help us if they raid us at night and set fire? We rather give them what they
demand. Then they say Topin blanched even further, began to tremble violently.
What do they say, Topin?
They say that when the koshcheys angry, he will descend from the pass, come to
us into the valleys.
Visenna rose abruptly, her face had changed. Korin felt a shiver run down his spine.
Topin, the sorceress said. Where is the closest smithy? My horse lost a shoe on
the road.
A little ways behind the village, near the forest. Theres a smithy and a barn.
Good. Go now, and ask if anyone is sick or wounded.
Thank you, merciful benefactress.
Visenna, Korin said as soon as the door had closed behind Topin. The druid turned
around and looked at him.
All of your horses shoes are in perfect order.
Visenna remained silent.
Hornstone is obviously jasper, greenstone jadeite, for which the Amells mines are
famous, Korin continued. And to get to the Amell, you need to travel the Klamat, over the
pass. The road with no return. What did the dead woman at the crossroads say? Why did
she want to kill me?
Visenna didnt answer.
 Youre silent? Never mind. It is all becoming clear so nicely. The wench at the
crossroads was waiting for someone to stop at the stupid sign that forbids you to go east.
That was the first test: if the newcomer can read. Then the wench verified again: who, if not
a good Samaritan from the Circle of druids, would help a hungry old woman these days?
Everybody else, I bet, wouldve even taken the stick from her. So the cunning wench
investigates further, starts talking of poor, unhappy people who need help. The traveler,
instead of thanking her with a kick and a curse, as any average resident of these parts
would, listens closely. Yes, the wench thinks, this is him. The druid whos here to clear out
the bandits terrorizing the neighborhood. And since she herself was doubtlessly sent by said
bandits, she draws a knife. Ha! Visenna! Am I not a paragon of intelligence?
Visenna didnt answer. She stood facing the window. Outside she saw the semi-
transparent membranes of air bladder were no obstacle to her sight the bird with the
colorful plumage sitting in a small cherry tree.
Visenna?
Yes.
Whats a koshchey?
Korin, Visenna said sharply and turned to face him. Why are you getting involved
in matters which are none of your concern?
Listen Korin didnt care about her tone of voice -, I am already, as you say,
involved in your matters. As it turns out, I was to be murdered in your stead.
By chance.
I thought sorceresses didnt believe in chance, only in magical attraction, chain of
events and such. Look, were sitting on the same horse. Literally and figuratively. In short
I offer you my help with the mission, whose purpose I can very well imagine. A refusal I will
take as a sign of arrogance. They told me that you from the Circle look down upon ordinary
mortals.
Thats a lie.
All the better. Korin flashed his teeth. So lets not lose any time. Lets ride to the
smithy.

IV

Nicholas grabbed the rod more tightly with the pliers and turned it in the embers.
Step on it, Bung! he ordered.
The journeyman grabbed the handle of the bellows. His chubby face shone with
sweat. In spite of the door being wide open, the smithy was unbearably hot. Nicholas lifted
the rod onto the anvil, flattened the end with a few mighty blows of his hammer.
The wheelwright Radim, sitting on a rough block of birchwood, was sweating heavily
as well. He unbuttoned his overall and pulled the shirt out of his pants. Its easy for you to
say, Nicholas, he said. You know all about fighting. Everybody knows that you havent
been standing in the smithy all your life. Back then, they say, you smashed heads instead
of iron.
Then be glad to have one like that on your side, the smith responded. Im telling
you again, I will no longer crawl to them. Or slave away for them. If youre not coming with
me, then Ill go alone, or with anyone who has blood running in their veins, not small beer.
We will go into the woods and finish them off one by one if we catch them. How many are
they? Thirty? Perhaps not even that many. And how many villages are there on this side?
Strong lads? Step on it, Bung!
I am!
More!
The hammer beat the anvil rhythmically, almost melodically. Bung pulled the bellows.
Radim snorted into his hand and wiped it on the shaft of his boot. Easy for you to
say, he repeated. And how many will join us from Key?
The smith lowered the hammer, remained silent.
Thats what I thought, the wheelwright said. Nobody will come.
Key is a small village. You should have asked in Sill and Stalk.
I did. I told you how it is. Without warriors from Mayena, the people wont move a
muscle. Some say: Those bobolaks and vrans, them we can take on one, two, three with
our pitchforks, but what do we do if the koshchey descends on us? Flee into the woods.
And the huts, our belongings? We cant carry them on our backs. And we are powerless
against the koshchey itself, you know that.
How should I know? Has anybody seen it? the smith yelled. Maybe there is no
koshchey? Maybe they just want to scare you peasants? Has anybody seen it?
Dont talk, Nicholas. Radim cocked his head. You know that among the
merchants escort there were veritable murderers, hung with iron. And did one of them return
from the pass? Not a single one. No, Nicholas. We must wait, I tell you. If the castellan of
Mayena sends help, then thats a different story.
Nicholas put down the hammer and placed the rod in the oven once more.
Mayenas military will not come, he said morosely. The lords are squabbling among
themselves. Mayena against Raswan.
Why?
Who understands the why and what for when the noble Lords are fighting? If you
ask me because of boredom, haughtiness! the smith yelled. I saw him, that castellan!
Why do we even pay the bastard taxes?
He tore the rod from the embers so that the sparks flew and gesticulated wildly. Bung
jumped aside. Nicholas grabbed the hammer, hit once, twice, thrice. When the castellan
chased my boy off, I sent him to the Circle to ask for help. To the druids.
To the sorcerers? the wheelwright asked in disbelief. Nicholas?
To those. But the boy hasnt come back yet.
 Radim shook his head, stood up and adjusted his pants. I dont know, Nicholas, I
dont know. Thats too much for me. But still it amounts to the same thing. We must wait.
Finish your work, they will come soon, I must
In front of the smithy, a horse neighed.
The smith froze, his hammer raised above the anvil. The wheelwrights teeth began
to chatter, he blanched. Nicholas noticed his hands shivering; he involuntarily wiped them
on his leather apron. It didnt help. He swallowed and went to the door opening, from which
the silhouettes of riders could be seen. Radim and Bung followed, stayed very close behind
him. As he went out, the smith leaned the rod against the wall next to the door.
He saw six figures, all on horseback, wearing leather-studded vests, hauberks,
leather helmets with nose protection made of steel which ran as a straight line of metal
between huge ruby eyes taking up half the face. They sat on their horses without moving,
as if careless. Nicholas, who let his gaze sweep from one to the other, saw their weapons:
short spears with broad blades. Swords with strangely forged crossguards. Broadaxes.
Serrated glaives.
Two of them stood opposite the entrance. A tall vran on a gray mold, wearing a cloak,
a sun emblem on his helmet. And the other
Mother, Bung whispered behind the smiths back. And started to sob.
The other rider was a human. He wore a dark vran cloak, but from behind the beak-
shaped helmet, pale blue eyes watched them, no red ones. In those eyes lay such cold,
indifferent violence that Nicholas felt a terrible fear course through him, chilling his innards,
causing nausea, a tickling in his behind. It was still quiet. The smith heard the flies humming
above the manure pile behind the fence.
The human with the beak-shaped helmet was the first to speak. Who of you is the
smith?
The question was senseless, the leather apron and his posture gave away Nicholas
at first glance. The smith remained silent. From the corner of his eye he noticed the pale-
eyed man making a small gesture to one of the vrans. The vran leaned forward in the saddle
and gave a wide swing of the glaive he was holding by the middle of its shaft. Nicholas bent,
instinctively ducked and covered his head and shoulders. The blow, however, was not
meant for him. The wide blade hit Bung in the neck and entered at an angle, deep, shattering
a collarbone and vertebra. The young man reeled backwards against the wall of the smithy,
tumbled against the door post and dropped to the ground right at the entrance.
I asked you a question, the man with the beak-shaped helmet reminded them
without taking his eyes off Nicholas. His gloved hand touched the ax fastened to the saddle.
The vrans standing the farthest away lit a fire, ignited links and passed them on to the others.
Calmly, unhurriedly they surrounded the smithy, held the torches to the thatched roof.
Radim could bear it no longer. He pressed his face into his hands, started to sob
and ran straight ahead between two horses. When he was on the level of a tall vran, the
latter jauntily rammed a spear into his stomach. The wheelwright howled, fell, violently
twitched twice and spread his legs. He moved no more.
So, what is it, Nicholas, or whatever you are called, Pale-eyes said. You alone
remain. And for what? To rally the people to the send help? And to think we would not learn
of it? You are stupid. In the villages, there are those who denounce others to get in our good
books.
The thatched roof of the smithy crackled, cracked, emitted a yellowish smoke, finally
flared up, blazed, blew sparks, exuded a mighty stream of embers.
We caught your journeyman, he babbled about where you sent him. We are also
waiting for the one who is to come from Mayena, the man with the beak-shaped helmet
continued. Yes, Nicholas. You stuck your dirty nose where it doesnt belong. For that you
will now have to suffer severe inconveniences. I think it will pay to put you on the pole. Is
there a decent pole in this area? Or better yet: We hang you by your feet, in a barn door,
and peel off your skin like we would with an eel.
Well, enough talk, the tall vran with the sun on his helmet said while throwing his
torch through the open door of the smithy. Soon the whole village will gather here. Lets
finish him, get the horses from the stables and ride off. Why does making others suffer
please you humans so? Especially when doing so needlessly? Go, finish him.
Pale-eyes didnt turn to the vran. He bent forward in his saddle, ushered the horse
toward the smith. Go inside, he said. A lust for murder shone in his pale eyes. Into the
house. I dont have the time to properly execute you. But I can at least fry you.
Nicholas took a step back. On his back he felt the heat of the burning smithy, inside
which ceiling beams were crashing thunderously to the floor. One more step. He stumbled
over Bungs body and the rod, which the boy had thrown over in his fall.
The rod.
The smith bent over fast as lightning, took hold of the heavy iron and without
straightening himself, from down low, rammed it into Pale-eyes chest with all the strength
his hatred gave him. The chisel-shaped tip penetrated the chain mail. Nicholas didnt wait
for the man to fall off his horse. He ran across the yard. Behind him yelling, the stamping of
hooves. He reached the woodshed, clutched the stake leaning against the wall with his
fingers and hit immediately, in mid-spin, blindly. The blow struck the muzzle of the gray mold
with the green covering. The horse reared, bucked off the vran with the sun on his helmet
and sent him into the dust of the yard. Nicholas ducked, a short spear shot into the wall of
the shed, became stuck, quivering. A second vran drew his sword and spurred his horse
to evade the whistling stroke of the stake. Three others galloped closer, yelled, wildly
gesticulated with their weapons. Nicholas groaned, while he defended himself with the
heavy wood. He hit something, another horse, which neighed and started to dance on its
hind legs. The vran remained in the saddle.
Over the fence, from the direction of the forest, hurtled a horse, clashed with the gray
mold with the green covering. The gray balked, tore at the reins, toppled the tall vran who
was trying to get back into the saddle. Nicholas couldnt believe his eyes as he saw how
the newly arrived rider split into two a weakling in a hood who leaned over the horses
neck, and a fair-haired man with a sword, who sat in the back.
The long narrow blade drew two semi-circles, two thunderbolts. Two vrans were
blown from their saddles, they tumbled to the ground, veiled in clouds of dust. The third,
who had almost made it to the woodshed, turned to the peculiar pair and took a thrust under
the beard, barely above the steel chest plate. The blade glinted as it stuck out of the throat
for a moment. The fair-haired man slid off his horse and ran across the yard to get the tall
vran off his horse. The vran drew the blade.
In the middle of the yard, the fifth vran was trying to regain control over his dancing
horse, which balked at the burning smithy. His broadax raised, he looked around, hesitated.
Finally, he yelled, spurred the horse and rushed toward the weakling clinging to the horses
neck. Nicholas watched as the small one threw back his hood and tore a band from his
forehead, and he realized how deeply he had erred. The girl shook her strawberry blond
shock of hair and yelled something incomprehensible, while stretching her hands out
towards the vran. A thin thread of light, bright as quicksilver, sprang from her fingers. The
vran was hurled from the saddle in a high arc and crashed into the sand. His clothes were
smoldering. The horse, hitting the ground with all four hooves, neighed, threw its head back
and forth.
The tall vran with the sun on his helmet slowly backed away from the fair-haired man,
towards the burning shed, ducking, both hands a sword in his right stretched forward.
The fair-haired one jumped forward, they exchange a few blows. The vrans sword flew off
to the side, yet he himself was stuck on the blade that had impaled him. The fair-haired man
stepped back, removed the sword with a quick jerk. The vran fell onto his knees, toppled
over, his face in the sand.
The rider who had been thrown from his saddle by the strawberry-blondes flashes
got up on all fours, groping around for a weapon. Nicholas had recovered from the surprise;
he took two steps, picked up the stake and let it crash down onto the neck of the fallen
one. Bones cracked.
That was not necessary, he heard somebody say right beside him.
The girl in the mans clothing had freckles and green eyes. On her forehead shone
a strange jewel.
That was not necessary, she repeated.
My lady, the smith began to stammer and held his rod like a guardsman would
his halberd. They burned the smithy. Beat the boy to death. And Radim. Beaten to death,
those murderers. My lady
The fair-haired man used his foot to turn over the body of the tall vran, inspected
him, then came closer and sheathed his sword.
Well, Visenna, he said. Now Ive gotten involved quite a bit. The only thing that
makes me uneasy is whether I took down the right people.
Visenna raised her eyes. Youre the smith, Nicholas?, she asked.
Yes. And you, Masters, are from the Circle of Druids? From Mayena?
Visenna didnt answer. She looked toward the edge of the forest, at the crowd of
people hurrying closer.
Those are our people, the smith explained. From Key.
 V

We got three! boasted the black-bearded leader of the group from Sill and shook
the scythe set straight onto the shaft. Three, Nicholas! They pursued the girls into the
fields, and there, we One of them managed to get away, reached a horse, that
whoreson!
His people, crowded around the circle of campfires in the clearing, which studded
the sable night sky with spots of flying embers, yelled, clamored, shook their weapons.
Nicholas raised both his hands, demanded quiet to be able to hear the ensuing reports.
Four came riding to us last night, said the old, bony sheriff of Stalk. Whatever.
Someone must have spilled that Im involved with you, smith. I barely made it onto the
drying loft of the barn, pulled up the ladder, fork in hand, come, I yell, scoundrels, who
wants some, I yell. They were about to set fire to the barn, that would have been the end
of me, but our people didnt stand by and watch, they all pounced on them. They had
horses, managed to cut through. Some of ours fell, but we pulled one of them from his
saddle.
Does he live? Nicholas inquired. I told you to catch one alive.
Well. The thin one waved dismissively. That we didnt manage. The wenches
used boiling water, they got to him first
Ive always said theyve got hot wenches in Stalk, the smith murmured and
scratched the back of his neck. And the snitch?
Found him, the bony man said briefly, without getting lost in detail.
Good. And now, people, listen. We already know where they are. At the
mountainside, next to the shepherds huts, there are caves in the rock. Thats where the
bandits have holed up, and thats where we will catch them. Well take hay and
brushwood on the carts, smoke them out like badgers. Well block the way with an abates
so they dont escape. Thats what Ive consulted about with this knight here by the name
of Korin. And I myself, as you are aware, do know a little something about fighting as well.
During the war I went against the vrans with General Grosim, before I settled down in Key.
From among the crowd warlike cries rang once more, but were swiftly quieted by
words which spoken lowly and insecurely at first. Then became louder. Finally, silence fell.
Visenna stepped from behind Nicholas back and stood next to the smith. She did
not even reach his shoulder. The crowd began to murmur.
Nicholas again raised both hands. The time has come, he called, that I no longer
want to conceal that I have asked for help from the Circle of Druids since the castellan of
Mayena would not supply it. I know very well that some of you eye me curiously because
of that.
The crowd slowly turned quieter, but was still in motion, whispering.
This here is Lady Visenna, Nicholas said slowly. From the Mayena Circle. She
answered our call for help. Those from Key are already acquainted with her, there she
healed people, restored their health with her powers. Yes, men. She is a slight lady, but
her power is immense. It goes beyond our understanding and scares us, but it serves as
help in our fight.
Visenna refrained from commenting, she did not say a word and made no gesture
toward the assembled crowd. But the veiled power of the small, freckled sorceress was
incredible. Korin felt, with surprise, how a strange enthusiasm filled him, how the fear of
what waited at the pass, the fear of the unknown, shrank, vanished, became unimportant,
as long as the bright jewel on Visennas forehead sparkled.
So you see, Nicholas continued, that there is something we can do against the
koshchey. We will not go alone, not defenseless. But before that we have to get rid of
those bandits!
Nicholas is right!, the bearded man from Sill called. Magic or not, who cares! To
the pass, people! To finish the koshcheys thugs!
The crowd yelled its agreement in unison, raised scythes, pikes, axes and
pitchforks reflecting the flames of the campfires.
Korin squeezed through the rows of people near him toward the forest, found a
kettle hanging over a fire, a bowl and a spoon. He scraped the burnt remains of pap with
bacon off the bottom. He sat down, rested the bowl on his knees, ate slowly and spit out
bits of barley. After a while he felt someones presence.
Sit down, Visenna, he said with his mouth full.
He kept eating while squinting at her profile, at the half-hidden cascade of hair that
gleamed blood-red in the fires glow. Visenna remained silent, her gaze directed at the
flames.
Hey, Visenna, why do we sit here like two owls? Korin set down the bowl. I cant
stand that, it makes me sad and cold. Where did they hide the moonshine? There was a
small barrel here just a minute ago; Devil take it. Its dark like
The druid turned toward him. Her eyes glowed with a strange, greenish sparkle.
Korin fell silent.
Yes. True, he said after a while and cleared his throat. Im a bandit. A mercenary.
A robber. I got involved because I like fighting, no matter who. I know the price of jasper,
jadeite and all the other stones there are in the mines of the Amell. I want loot. Profit. I dont
care how many of these people will lose their lives tomorrow. What else do you want to
know? I will say it myself, you dont need to use that sparkly thing youre hiding under the
snakeskin. I dont intend to hide anything. Youre right, I fit neither you nor your noble
mission. Thats it. Good night. Im going to sleep.
Despite his words he did not get up. He only took a stick and thrust at the burning
logs.
Korin, Visenna said quietly.
Yes?
Dont leave.
 Korin lowered his head. From a chunk of birchwood in the fire erupted blue geysers
of flame. He looked at her but could not bear the intensity of those eerily sparkling eyes.
He turned his head toward the fire.
Dont ask too much of yourself, Visenna said and wrapped herself in her cloak. It
is common for the unnatural to spark fear. And loathing.
Visenna
Dont interrupt me. Yes, Korin, the people need our help, they are thankful,
oftentimes even honestly so, but they despise us, fear us, dont look us in the eyes, spit
behind our backs. The more intelligent, like you, are less honest. You are no exception,
Korin. I have heard from many that they are unworthy of sitting at a fire with me. But it so
happens that it is we who need the help of normal folk. Or their company.
Korin kept silent.
I know, Visenna continued, that it would be easier for you if I had a gray beard
reaching my belt and a hooked nose. Then the revulsion against my person would not
cause such confusion in your mind. Yes, Korin, revulsion. This sparkly thing that I wear on
my forehead is a chalcedony. To it, I owe a large portion of my magical abilities. You are
right, with the help of the chalcedony I am easily able to read the more concrete thoughts.
Yours are exceedingly plain. Do not ask me to perceive that as pleasing. I am a sorceress,
a witch, but also a woman. I came because I wanted to sleep with you.
Visenna
No. I no longer want to. Not now.
They sat quietly. The colorful bird, sitting on a branch in the dark depth of the
forest, felt fear. There were owls in the woods.
You overdid it a little, Korin finally sounded with the revulsion. But I do admit that
you cause in me some kind of unrest. You shouldnt have allowed me to watch that
scene at the crossroads. The corpse, you know?
Korin, the sorceress said calmly. When you thrust your sword into the vrans
throat at the smithy, I almost vomited into the horses mane. But let us let our specialties
rest. We should end the conversation that leads to nothing.
We should end it.
The sorceress drew her cloak more tightly around herself. Korin threw a few pine
cones into the fire.
Korin?
Yes?
I wish you were no longer indifferent of how many lose their lives tomorrow.
Humans and and others. I count on your help.
I will help you.
That is not all. There is still the issue of the pass. I need to open the road across
the Klamat.
 With the glowing end of a twig Korin pointed at the other campfires and the people
who slept or talked quietly. With our glorious army, that should be no problem.
Our army will vanish home once I stop clouding their heads with magic. Visenna
smiled sadly. But I will not cloud them. I do not want any of them to die for an unfamiliar
cause. And the koshchey is not their business, but that of the Circle. I need to go to the
pass alone.
No. Youre not going alone, Korin said. Well go together. I, Visenna, have known
from early childhood when to flee and when its still too early. Ive perfected that
knowledge in years of practice, and thats why Im currently considered brave. I dont
intend to do your opinion of me any harm. You dont need to cloud me with magic. First,
lets see what that koshchey looks like. By the way, what do you think is this koshchey?
Visenna lowered her head. Im afraid, she whispered, it is death.

VI

The others did not let themselves be caught off-guard in the caves. They waited in
the saddle, motionless, erect, their eyes directed at the rows of armed peasants coming
from the forest. The wind tearing at their mantles made them look like haggard birds of prey
with ruffled up plumage, threatening, inspiring awe and fear.
Eighteen, Korin counted standing in the stirrups. All mounted. Six near horses.
One cart. Nicholas!
The smith rapidly changed his companys formation. Those with pikes and spears
kneeled at the edge of the brush, the ends of their weapons rammed into the ground. The
archers took position behind the trees. The rest retreated into the thicket.
One of the riders came toward them. He stopped his horse, raise his hand above
his head, called something.
A feint, Nicholas murmured. I know them, those whoresons.
Lets make sure, Korin said and jumped from the saddle. Come.
Slowly, the two of them walked up to the mounted one. After a while Korin noticed
Visenna following them.
The rider was a bobolak.
I will be brief, he called without dismounting. His small, sparkling eyes glinted,
halfway hidden by the fur that covered his face. I am the current leader of the group that
you see over there. Nine bobolaks, five humans, three vrans, one elf. The rest is dead. There
was a difference of opinion. Our former leader, whose plans led us here, lies in that cave
over there, bound. Do with him as you please. We want to ride off.
That really was brief, Nicholas snorted. You want to ride off. And we want to tear
out your guts. What do you say?
 The bobolak flashed his pointed teeth, stretched his small form in the saddle. Do
you believe we fear you enough to be willing to make concessions? You, a band of cowards
in bast shoes? Please, if you insist, we will ride over your paunches. That is our trade,
peasant. I know that were taking a risk. Even if some of us fall, the others will make it through.
Thats life.
The cart wont make it through, Korin said forcefully. Thats life.
We are prepared for that.
Whats on the cart?
The bobolak spit over his right shoulder. A twentieth of what has remained in the
cave. And just to be clear: if you ask us to leave the cart behind, we wont agree. If were
supposed to get out of this thing without a profit, then at least not without a fight. So, what
is it? If we are to fight, then Id rather do it now, in the morning, before the dear sun begins
to burn.
Youre brave, said Nicholas.
So are all of my family.
We will let you go if you lower your weapons.
The bobolak spit again, this time over his left shoulder, for a change.
Not a chance, he growled curtly.
Korin laughed. Thats whats bothering you. Without your weapons, youre garbage!
And what are you without weapons? the small one asked without emotion. A
prince? I see what you are. Do you think Im blind?
With weapons you could be back tomorrow, Nicholas said. Lets say, to get whats
left in the cave. To make more profit.
The bobolak bared his teeth. That was an option. But we dropped it after a short
discussion.
Rightly so, Visenna said suddenly, stepped from behind Korins back and stood
closely in front of the mounted one. It was right of you to drop it, Kehl.
Korin felt as if the wind had suddenly grown stronger, it began howling between the
rocks and grasses, assaulted it with cold.
Visenna continued in an unfamiliar, metallic voice. Each of you who tires to return
here will die. I see it and I am saying it in advance. Ride from here immediately. Now. Each
who tries to return will die.
The bobolak leaned forward and looked at the sorceress across the neck of his
horse. He wasnt young his fur war almost ashen, streaked white.
It is you? I thought so. Im glad that But enough of that. I told you I dont intend to
return here. We joined Fregenal to make a profit. Thats over. Now the Circle is breathing
down our neck, and all the villages in the area, but Fregenal is babbling about world
domination. Weve had enough of him and that creature at the pass.
He tore at the reins, turned his horse. Why am I saying that? We are leaving.
Farewell.
 Nobody answered. The bobolak hesitated, looked toward the edge of the forest,
then let his gaze glide along the row of his motionless riders. Again he leaned forward in the
saddle and looked Visenna in the eyes. I was against the attack on you, he said. Now I
see that I was right. If I tell you that the koshcheys death, you will nevertheless go to the
pass, wont you?
True.
Kehl straightened his back, called something to his horse, galloped to his people.
Immediately, the mounted ones formed a convoy around the cart, moved off toward the
road. Nicholas was already with his men, talking to them, calming the bearded man from Sill
and others, who were demanding blood and revenge. Korin and Visenna silently regarded
the company passing them. They rode slowly, looked straight ahead, showed calm and
cold disdain. Only Kehl raised his hand in a parting gesture when he passed them, all the
while watching Visenna with a strange expression. Then he abruptly spurred his horse,
trotted past the head of the convoy, vanished between the trees.

VII

They found the first corpse right at the entrance to the caves, crushed, shoved
between sacks of oat and a pile of brushwood. The path branched off, at the fork they saw
the next two dead one nearly headless from a blow with a mace or the back of an ax, the
other covered in clotted blood from many wounds. All of them humans.
Visenna removed the headband from her forehead. A light radiated from the diadem,
brighter than the fire of the torches, and lit the dark interior of the cave. The passage led into
a bigger grotto. Korin emitted a soft whistle. Against the walls leaned crates, sacks and
barrels, stacks of harnesses, balls of wool, weapons, equipment. A few crates were
shattered and empty. Others were full. In passing, Korin saw a dull green pile of jasper, dark
broken pieces of jadeite, agates, opals, chrysoprases and other jewels he didnt know. On
the stone floor, here and there glittering with golden, silver and copper coins, lay scattered
bundles of fur marmot, lynx, fox, wolverine.
Without stopping for even a moment, Visenna hurried into a more remote, small and
dark cavern. Korin followed her.
Here I am, sounded a dark, indistinct shape lying on a stack of rags and furs
covering the floor.
They walked closer. The bound man was squat, bald, obese. A large bruise covered
half his face.
Visenna touched the diadem, for a moment the chalcedony flared up more brightly.
That is unnecessary, the bound man said. I know you. I forget what you are called.
I know whats on your forehead. That is unnecessary, I say. They assaulted me in my sleep,
took my ring, destroyed my staff. I am powerless.
Fregenal, Visenna said. Youve changed.
 Visenna, the fat one murmured. I remember. I thought it would be a man, thats
what I sent Manissa. My Manissa could have handled a man.
She couldnt, Korin blustered while looking around. Still, one has to give the dead
her due. She really made an effort.
Too bad.
Visenna looked around the cave, walked into a corner with sure step, turned a stone
over the with tip of her boot, removed a small clay pouch wrapped in leather from the hollow
below it. With her golden sickle she cut a strap, pulled out a sheaf of parchment.
Fregenal watched with hostility. Well, well, he said, his voice quivering with hatred.
What a talent. It deserves praise. We can find hidden things. What else can we do? Divine
from an oxens gut? Cure a heifers flatulence?
Visenna looked at sheet after sheet without paying any attention to him.
Interesting, she said after a while. Eleven years ago, when you were expelled from
the Circle, certain pages vanished from forbidden books. Its pleasing that they have been
found, enriched with commentary, no less. To think you had the audacity to use the double
cross of Alzur now, now. I dont think you forgot about the fate that befell Alzur. Some of
his creatures supposedly still roam the world, among them his last, the vij who killed him
and destroyed half of Maribor before fleeing into the woods of the river country. She folded
a few pages of parchment, slid them into a pocket in the puffy sleeve of her jacket. She
unrolled the next pages.
Aha, she said and frowned. The formula of tree root, slightly altered. And here, the
triangle within a triangle, a method with which one can affect a sequence of mutations and
cause enormous gain in body mass. And what, Fregenal, served as your creature of origin?
Looks like a common spider. Fregenal, something is missing. I hope you know what I am
talking about?
Im glad youve noticed. He wizard grinned. A common spider, you say? Once that
common spider descends from the pass, the world will turn mute with horror. For a moment.
And then it will scream.
Yes, yes. Where are the missing spells?
Nowhere. I didnt want them to fall into the wrong hands. Especially not yours. I know
that the whole Circle dreams of the power those spells can give, but no chance. You will
never be capable of creating anything even half as terrible as a koshchey.
You seem to have been hit in the head, Fregenal, Visenna said calmly. Due to that,
it seems, you have not yet regained your intellectual capabilities. Who talks of creation? Your
creature needs to be destroyed, eradicated. Through the simple inversion of a binding spell,
the mirror effect. The binding spell, of course, was tuned to the staff, so it needs to be
retuned to my chalcedony.
Too much of needs to be, the fat man growled. You can sit here until Judgment
Day and need to, my clever miss. Where did you get the silly idea that I would give you the
binding spell? You will get nothing from me, neither alive nor dead. I have a block. Dont ogle
me like that, or that stone will burn through your forehead. Hurry, unbind me, my limbs have
already fallen asleep.
 If you want, I can give you a few kicks. Korin smiled. That should get your circulation
going. You dont seem to grasp your situation, you bald swine. Any moment, the peasants
are going to be here, the ones youve threatened, and theyll quarter you with their horses.
Have you ever seen how thats done? The arms tear off first.
Fregenal flexed his neck, his eyes bulging and tried to spit on Korins boots. But that
was quite difficult from the position he was in, so he merely spat on his own chin.
Thats, he snorted, thats what I think of your threats! You will do nothing! You
presume a great deal, vagrant! Youve gotten in far over your head! Ask her why shes here!
Visenna! Enlighten him, he seems to take you for a noble liberator of the oppressed, a fighter
for the good of the common people! But this is about money, you cretin! A lot of money!
Visenna remained quiet. Fregenal straightened, the binds screaming, turned over
onto his side by bending his legs at the knees.
Is it not true, he yelled, that the Circle sent you to reopen the golden faucet which
has run dry? For the Circle draws profit from the mining for jasper and jadeite, it imposes
taxes on the merchants and caravans as payment for protective amulets which, as has been
shown, do nothing against my koshchey!
Visenna didnt answer. She didnt look at the bound man. Her gaze rested on Korin.
Aha! the sorcerer yelled. You dont even deny it! That means all the world. Back
then, only the Elders knew of it, and greenhorns like you were made believe that the Circles
only goal was to fight evil. That does not surprise me: the world is changing, the people are
beginning to understand that they can live without magic and magicians. Before you know
it, you will be out of work, will have to live off what you have stolen until then. Nothing matters
to you, only profit. That is why you will unbind me this moment. You will not kill me or have
me killed, for that would mean further losses for the Circle. And the Circle would not forgive
you for that, that much is obvious.
It is not, Visenna said coldly, arms crossed in front of her chest. You see, Fregenal,
greenhorns like me dont pay too much attention to material wealth. What do I care if the
Circle makes a profit or has losses, or if it even stops to exist. I can very well live on curing
a heifers flatulence. Or impotence in old geezers like you. But that is unimportant. What is
important is that you want to live and therefore wag your tongue. Everybody wants to live.
That is why you will now give me the binding spell. Immediately. Then you will help me find
the koshchey, and destroy it. And if not Well, then I suppose I will take a walk in the
woods. Afterwards I can tell the Circle that I did not notice the angry peasants.
The sorcerer ground his teeth. Youve always been cynical. Even back then in
Mayena. Especially in your relationships with men. You were fourteen, but there was a lot of
talk of your
Stop, Fregenal, the druid interrupted. What you are saying does not impress me
in the least. Not him, either. He is not my lover. Say that you agree. And be done with the
blabbering. You do agree, after all!
Fregenal screwed up his eyes, averted his gaze. Of course, he croaked. Do you
take me for a fool? Everybody wants to live.
 VIII

Fregenal stopped, wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. Behind
those rocks begins a ravine. The old maps mark it as Duran-Orit, the gorge of mice. Thats
the gate to the Klamat. We need to leave the horses here. On horseback thered be no
chance to get close to it unnoticed.
Nicholas, Visenna said while dismounting. Wait until the evening, no longer. If I
dont return, do not enter the pass, under no circumstances. Return home. Do you
understand, Nicholas?
The smith nodded. There were only four villagers still with him. The rest of the
company had melted away on the road like snow in May.
I understand, Milady, he murmured and squinted at Fregenal. Still Im surprised
that you trust this bastard. I think the peasants were right. Should have torn off his head.
Just look at those pig eyes, Milady, that traitorous mug.
Visenna didnt answer. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she looked toward the
mountain, at the entrance of the ravine.
Take the lead, Fregenal, Korin ordered and tightened his belt.
They set off.
After half an hour of marching they saw the first cart, pushed over, shattered. Then
another with a broken wheel. Skeletons of horses. The skeleton of a human. Another. A
third. A fourth. A pile. A pile of broken, crunched bones.
You whoreson, Korin said quietly, his eyes on a skull in whose eye sockets were
growing the stalks of large nettles. Those are merchants, right? I dont know whats keeping
me from
We have an agreement, Fregenal interrupted him hastily. An agreement. I told you
everything, Visenna. Im helping you. Im leading you. We have an agreement!
Korin spat. Visenna looked at him, pale, then turned toward the sorcerer.
We have an agreement, she confirmed. You will help us find and destroy it, then
you will take off. Your death will not bring back those who lie here.
Destroy, destroy Visenna, Im warning you again, and I repeat: stun it, paralyze it,
you know the spells. But dont destroy it. It is worth a fortune. You can always
Stop, Fregenal. We have already talked about this. Lead us.
They walked on, careful to avoid the skeletons.
Visenna, Fregenal panted after a while. Are you aware of the risk? This is no joke.
You know the mirror effect can go this way or the other. If the inversion doesnt work, were
done for. Ive seen what its capable of.
Visenna stopped. No excuses, she said. Who do you take me for? The inversion
will work if
If you didnt scam us, Korin added, his voice toneless with anger. And if you did
You say you saw what your monster is capable of. But do you know what I am capable of?
I know a blow that leaves a man with nothing but an ear, a cheek and half his jaw. One can
survive, but never again, lets say, play the flute.
Visenna, calm down that murderer, Fregenal stuttered, having blanched
significantly. Explain to him that I could not lie to you, that you would have noticed
Dont talk so much, Fregenal. Lead us.
A little further down the path they spied the next cart. And the next skeletons.
Carelessly scattered, tangled ribcages glistening white in the grass, shins sticking from the
debris, skulls grinning eerily. Korin was silent, his sweaty hand tightly gripping the swords
handle.
Watch out, Fregenal panted. Were close. Walk silently.
At what distance does it react? Fregenal, Im talking to you.
Ill give you a sign.
They continued, glanced over the walls of the ravine, which where steep, covered in
creeping, crippled shrubbery, streaked with gaps and rock failures.
Visenna? Do you sense it yet?
Yes. But indistinctly. How far is it, Fregenal?
I will give you a sign. Its too bad I cant help you. Without my staff and ring I can do
nothing. Im powerless. Except for
Except for what?
This!
With a speed of which one would not have considered him capable, the obese man
grabbed an edged boulder and struck it against the back of Visennas head. Without a sigh
the druid tumbled to the ground, face forward. Korin swung his sword, but the magician
was incredibly agile. He dropped onto all fours to evade the blade, rolled up to his feet and
smashed the rock he had not dropped against his knee. Korin howled, fell; the pain
momentarily took his breath away, and then a wave of nausea worked its way up from his
gut to his throat. Fregenal jumped up like a cat, prepared for another blow.
The colorful bird dropped like a bullet, brushed across the wizards face. Fregenal
jumped back, threw up his hands and dropped the stone. Korin, leaning on his elbow, hit
with the sword, but missed the obese man by a hairs breadth; the latter turned around and
ran toward the pass, screamed and laughed. Korin tried to get up and catch up with him,
but the attempt made his vision go black. He fell back down and sent a torrent of disgusting
curses after the sorcerer.
Fregenal looked back from a safe distance, stopped. You wayward witch! he yelled.
You red-headed piece of filth! You wanted to outsmart Fregenal? Graciously give me my
life? You thought I would watch calmly while you killed it?
Korin, still on the ground, rubbed his knee to calm the pulsating pain. Visenna lay
motionless.
It comes! Fregenal screamed. Look! Rejoice in this view, for any moment my
koshchey will blow the eyes from your skulls! It comes already!
 Korin looked around. From behind a scattering of rocks, a good one hundred steps
away, towered the clunky, bent joints of a spiders legs. Moments later, a body, six meters
in diameter, pushed itself rumbling over the rocky pile, flat as a plate, rust colored, rough,
covered in prickly growths. Three pairs of legs stepped forward measuredly, carried the
plate-shaped body through the debris. The fourth, frontal pair of limbs, disproportionally long,
were armed with mighty pincers, which carried rows of pointy spikes and horns.
This is a dream, Korin thought. A nightmare. Wake up. Scream and wake up.
Scream. Scream. Scream.
He forgot about the painful knee and ran over to Visenna, pulled at her slack
shoulder. The druids hair was drenched in blood which already ran down her neck.
Visenna, he pressed through a throat constricted with fear. Visenna
Fregenal erupted with crazy laughter, which reverberated off the walls of the ravine.
The laughter downed out the steps of Nicholas, who was hurrying over, ax in hand. Fregenal
only noticed him when it was already too late. The ax struck his back, a little above the hip,
and entered up to the shaft. The wizard fell to the ground with a cry of pain, so that the ax
was torn from the smiths hand. Nicholas set his foot on his back, removed the ax, struck
again. Fregenals head tumbled across the debris and came to a halt, its forehead resting
against one of the skulls which lay under the wheels of the shattered cart.
Limping, stumbling over stones, Korin pulled Visenna after himself; she was limp and
soft. Nicholas jumped toward them, grabbed the girl, effortlessly threw her over his shoulder
and started running. Even without the burden Korin was not able to follow. He looked back
over his shoulder. The koshchey was coming closer, crunching its joints; the extended
pincers ran through the shaggy grass, stirred rocks.
Nicholas! Korin yelled desperately.
The smith looked back, set Visenna down, ran over to Korin, supported him, together
they ran. The koshchey gained speed, raised its spiky pincers.
We wont make it, Nicholas panted after throwing a glance back. We wont get
away form it
They reached Visenna lying prone.
Shes bleeding to death, Nicholas groaned.
Korin gathered himself. He tore the pouch from Visennas belt, shook out its contents
and grabbed, without paying any attention to the other items, the russet mineral covered in
runes, brushed away the strawberry blond, blood-soaked hair, pressed the hematite against
the wound. The blood immediately stopped flowing.
Korin! Nicholas yelled.
The koshchey was close. It stretched out its front legs, the jagged pincers opened.
Nicholas saw the eyes rotating on stalks and the crunching, sickle-shaped jaw below them.
Creeping forward, the koshchey hissed rhythmically: Tsss, tsss, tsss
Korin!
Korin didnt react, whispered something without taking the hematite off the wound.
Nicholas jumped at him, grabbed his arm, dragged him from Visenna, took the druid in his
arms. They ran. The koshchey, not stopping the hissing for even a moment, raised the
pincers, scraped his chitinous belly across the rock and hurried after them. Nicholas realized
that they didnt stand a chance.
From the pass, a rider in a leather vest dashed toward them at breakneck speed,
broadsword raised high above the head in the chainmail helmet. In the hairy face, small eyes
sparkled, pointed teeth flashed.
With a battle cry, Kehl lunged at the koshchey. But before he had even reached the
monster, the terrible pincers closed, grabbed the horse with spiky pliers. The bobolak fell
from the saddle, tumbled to the ground.
Without any visible effort, the koshchey raised the horse with its pincers and stabbed
it with the pointy thorn protruding from the front of its body. The sickle-shaped jaws snapped
shut, the blood of the horse splattered onto the stones, steaming guts exploded from the
slashed stomach onto the ground.
Nicholas jumped, picked up the bobolak, but the latter pushed him back, tore up his
sword, screamed lough enough to drown out the horses dying cries and swooped down
on the koshchey. With apelike agility, he slipped under the bony, thickened joints of one of
the front limbs and stabbed at a stalk-mounted eye with all his might. The koshchey hissed,
dropped the horse, threw its pincers to the side, hitting Kehl with the pointy spikes, tore him
off the ground, hurtled him off to the side. Kehl crashed onto the stones, dropped the sword.
The koshchey made a semi-turn, extended its pincers and grabbed him. The bobolaks
small figure was suspended in mid-air.
Nicholas screamed angrily, reached the monster in two long steps, struck out and
hit the chitin shell with his ax. Korin let go of Visenna and without thinking twice joined from
the other side, used both hands to stab his sword into a gap between the shell and a leg.
He braced his chest against the handle and rammed it in up to the crossguard. Nicholas
groaned and hit again, the shell ruptured, a stinking green liquid bubbled up. The koshchey
hissed again, let go of the bobolak, raised its pincers. Korin braced himself against the
ground, tugged at the sword in vain.
Nicholas! he yelled. Back!
Both turned to flee, smartly in different directions. The koshchey hesitated, scraped
its belly across the rock and hurried toward Visenna, who tried to get onto all fours, her head
lolling forward. A little above her hovered the colorful bird, batted its wings and screamed,
screamed, screamed
The koshchey was close.
Both, Nicholas and Korin, jumped for her at the same time, stood in the monsters
way.
Visenna!
Milady!
Without stopping, the koshchey spread its pincers.
Out of the way! Visenna yelled from her knees and raised her hands. Korin! Out of
the way!
Both scrambled off, to the walls of the ravine.
 Henenaa fireaaoth kerelanth! the sorceress yelled sonorously and extended her
arms toward the koshchey. Nicholas noticed something invisible moving from her toward
the creature. The grass was depressed, small stones hurtled to the side as if under weight
of a huge sphere, which rolled in at increasing speed. From Visennas palms shot a blinding,
jagged streak of light, hit the koshchey, spread across the shell like a net of tongues of fire.
The air tore with a deafening boom. The koshchey exploded, burst in a green fountain of
bodily fluids, a cloud of chitin, legs, guts; it all gushed upwards, rained down, pattered onto
the rocks, rustled the undergrowth. Nicholas dropped onto one knee, raised his hands
above his head.
It was silent. Where the monster had been only moments before, a black, smoking,
round crater expanded, splattered with green fluid, covered in repulsive shreds hard to
recognize.
Korin wiped the green spots off his face and helped Visenna up. Visenna shivered.
Nicholas leaned over Kehl. The bobolaks eyes were open. The thick vest of horse
leather was torn to shreds; underneath was visible what little remained of shoulder and flank.
The smith wanted to say something, but was not able to. Korin joined him, supporting
Visenna. The bobolak turned his head toward them. Korin regarded his shoulder and
swallowed with effort.
Its you, prince, Kehl said softly, but calmly. You were right Im nothing without
my weapons. And without my arm? Shitty, huh?
The bobolaks calm was more disconcerting to Korin than the sight of crushed bones
jutting from the horrible wounds. To think the creature was even alive; it was unimaginable.
Visenna, Korin whispered and looked at the sorceress pleadingly.
There is nothing I can do, Korin, Visenna said, her voice breaking. His metabolism
is completely different from that of a human Nicholas Dont touch him
You came back, bobolak, Nicholas whispered. Why?
Because my metabolism is completely different from that of a human, Kehl said,
his voice laced with pride, and much effort. A rivulet of blood flowed from his mouth and
tainted the ashen fur. He turned his head, looked Visenna in the eyes.
Well, red-headed witch! Your prophecy was right, but you will need to fulfill it
yourself.
No! Visenna moaned.
Yes, Kehl said. You must. Help me. Its time.
Visenna, Korin sighed, horrified. Dont tell me you want to
Go away! the druid screamed and stifled a sob. Go away, both of you!
Nicholas averted his gaze and pulled Korin by the arm. Korin followed him. He only
saw Visenna kneeling at the bobolaks side, softly stroking his forehead, touching his
temples. Kehl twitched, began to shiver, tense and froze, motionless.
Visenna cried.
 IX

The colorful bird on Visennas shoulder cocked its slender head, fixed the sorceress
with round, lifeless eyes. The horse trotted along the broken country road, the sky was
cobalt blue and clear.
Tuuit tuiit trk, said the colorful bird.
Possibly, Visenna agreed. But it is not about that. You do not understand. I do not
blame anyone. It saddens me that I learned about the whole affair from Fregenal, not from
you. It does. But I have known you for years, I know youre not very talkative. I think if I had
asked you directly, you would have answered.
Trk, tuuuit?
Of course. For a while. But you know how it is with us. One big secret, everything
is secret. It all comes down to criteria. I dont refuse to be paid for a healing if somebody
offers the money and I know he can afford it. I know that the price for certain services can
be quite high. And for good reason, everything is becoming more and more expensive, you
have to take care of yourself. It is not about that.
Twwiiit. The bird stepped from one tiny foot onto the other. Korriiin.
Youre a clever one. Visenna smiled sourly, stretched her head toward the bird so
it could softly touch her cheek with its beak. That is what worries me. I saw how he looked
at me. Not just a witch, he thought surely, but also a swindler, greedy and calculating.
Tuwiit trk trk trk tuuuiiit?
Visenna turned her head. Well, it is not that bad, she murmured and blinked. I am,
as you know, no little girl, I dont lose my head that easily. Though I have to admit For too
long I have wandered aimlessly, alone But that is none of your business. Hold your beak.
The bird was silent, ruffled its plumage. They came ever closer to the forest; the road
vanished in the thicket under the portal of treetops.
Listen, Visenna sounded after a while. What do you think, what could the future
look like? Is it really possible that humans will no longer have need of us? For the simplest
things, matters of healing? There is some progress, let us look at, for example, herbalism,
but can you imagine that one day, it can cure the whooping cough? Childbed fever?
Lockjaw?
Twiik twiiit.
That is also an answer, I suppose. Theoretically it is even possible for the horse to
join our conversation at any moment. To say something clever. And what about cancer? Will
they handle cancer? Without magic?
Trrk!
I think so, too.
 They entered the forest which smelled like cold and humidity. They crossed a shallow
stream. Visenna rode onto a small rise, then back down into heather which reached her
stirrups. She found the path again, which was sandy, overgrown. She knew this path, had
followed it merely three days ago. Only in the opposite direction.
It seems to me, she continued. that a small change would do us good. We
atrophy, cling too tightly and uncritically to tradition. If I return
Twiit, the colorful bird interrupted.
What?
Twiit.
What are you trying to say? Why not?
Trrrrk.
What inscription? And what pole?
The bird flitted from her shoulder, flew off, disappeared in the foliage.
Korin sat there, resting his back against a pole at the crossroad, and watched her
with a bold smile. Visenna jumped from the saddle, walked closer. She felt herself smile
against her will, more than that she surmised that her smile might not looked especially
clever.
Visenna, Korin called. Admit it, are you possibly clouding my mind with magic?
Because I feel quite some joy at this meeting, amdownright unnatural joy. Unbidden, knock
on wood. It has to be magic.
You were waiting for me.
You are incredibly clever. You see, I woke up in the morning and noticed that you
had ridden off. How nice of you, I thought, not waking me for such a stupid, meaningless
farewell. Works just as well without it. Who greets and says goodbye these days, after all?
Its nothing but a prejudice, a habit, right? I turned around and slept some more. It was only
after breakfast that I remembered something unusually important I need to tell you. So I
mounted my horse and took the shortcut.
And what do you need to tell me? Visenna inquired while coming closer and looking
in his blue eyes which she had seen in her dream the night before.
Korin showed his teeth in a broad smile. Its a delicate matter, he said. It cant be
summarized in a few words. I dont know if I can make it until dusk.
Start, at least.
Thats the catch. I dont know how.
Sir Korin is at a loss for words. Visenna shook her head, still smiling. An
unprecedented event. So lets say: Start at the beginning.
Not a bad thought, Korin retorted in mock seriousness. You know, Visenna, for
too long Ive been
aimlessly wandering the woods and country roads by myself, the sorceress
finished and snaked her arms around his neck.
 The colorful bird, high up on a branch, batted its tiny wings, spread them, threw back
its head.
Trrrk twiit twiiit, it said.
Visenna broke away from Korins lips and looked at the bird, winking. You were
right, she responded. This really is a road with no return. Fly, tell them
She hesitated, dismissed it.
Tell them nothing.
 Translators notes

There are a few points of this translation that I would like to remark on.
The source of this document is the official German translation of Droga, z ktrej si
nie wraca, called Der Weg, von dem niemand zurckkehrt (The Road With No Return)
published in the anthology Co si koczy, co si zaczyna, respectively Etwas endet,
etwas beginnt (Something Ends, Something Begins).
The German edition, as is most likely true for the Polish original as well, is prefaced
by an introduction written by Sapkowski himself. While I consider it important, I decided to
prioritize the actual story and its translation. I will, of course, add the preface once I have
finished the story.
Names (of places, people, etc.) are often a problem in translations, Sapkowskis
novels are no exceptions here. In the official German version, all names derived from actual
nouns (e.g. Dandelion in English, Jaskier in Polish, Rittersporn in German) have been
translated. Hence, I have decided to keep with that tradition and anglicize when possible
and appropriate. The following table lists all the names found in the story in both the Polish
and German versions as well as the English translation I am using. Although I hope it wont
be the case, some translations might change; more will certainly be added throughout the
translation process, though.
(The names for beasts were taken from the official Wiki)

Polish German English

(original, official) (official) (proposed translation)
Klucz (loc.) Schlssel Key
Mikula (Name) Niklas Nicholas
Czop (Name) Zapf Bung (?)
Porog (loc.) Schwelle Sill
Kaczan (loc.) Strunk Stalk