The yellow light from the fireplace flickered on the stone walls of the inn. The smell of burning wood mingled with the aroma of dried herbs and weak wine. Rain drummed softly on the fogged-up windows, muffling the sounds of the night.
Strax sat at the table, his elbows propped up and his hands clasped in front of his face. His eyes were fixed on an invisible point at the bottom of his glass of water.
Cristine, lying on her side on the nearby armchair, fidgeted with a ring on her finger. Yennifer paced the small room, as if the movement could calm her racing mind.
"It's official," said Cristine, breaking the silence. "We're stuck in a whirlpool of misfortune, with no idea which direction will lead us to the surface."
"If we try to solve everything at once, we'll die," Strax muttered, without looking up. "Literally."
"Do you think we should abandon the trail of demons?" Yennifer asked, stopping beside him. "Even after everything we saw in the tower?"
