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- Анджей Сапковский
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- Ведьмак: Кровь эльфов
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- Стр. 118/356
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He
turned
away
and
lowered
his
arms
defencelessly
.
"
Sorry
,
"
he
said
quietly
.
"
Forgive
me
,
Triss
.
"
He
made
for
the
stairs
quickly
,
but
the
enchantress
was
up
in
a
flash
and
threw
herself
at
him
,
embracing
him
.
"
You
are
not
leaving
here
alone
,
"
she
whispered
.
"
I
wo
n't
let
you
be
alone
.
Not
right
now
.
"
They
knew
immediately
where
she
had
run
to
.
Fine
,
wet
snow
had
fallen
that
evening
and
had
covered
the
forecourt
with
a
thin
,
impeccably
white
carpet
.
In
it
they
saw
her
footsteps
.
Ciri
was
standing
on
the
very
summit
of
the
ruined
wall
,
as
motionless
as
a
statue
.
She
was
holding
the
sword
above
her
right
shoulder
,
the
cross-guard
at
eye
level
.
The
fingers
of
her
left
hand
were
lightly
touching
the
pommel
.
On
seeing
them
,
the
girl
jumped
,
spun
in
a
pirouette
and
landed
softly
in
an
identical
but
reverse
mirror
position
.
"
Ciri
,
"
said
the
witcher
,
"
come
down
,
please
.
"
It
seemed
she
had
n't
heard
him
.
She
did
not
move
,
not
even
a
muscle
.
Triss
,
however
,
saw
the
reflection
of
the
moon
,
thrown
across
her
face
by
the
blade
,
glisten
silver
over
a
stream
of
tears
.
"
No
one
's
going
to
take
the
sword
away
from
me
!
"
she
shouted
.
"
No
one
!
Not
even
you
!
"
"
Come
down
,
"
repeated
Geralt
.
She
tossed
her
head
defiantly
and
the
next
second
leaped
once
more
.
A
loose
brick
slipped
beneath
her
foot
with
a
grating
sound
.
Ciri
staggered
,
trying
to
find
her
balance
.
And
failed
.
