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- Анджей Сапковский
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- Ведьмак: Кровь эльфов
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- Стр. 324/356
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The
Lion
Cub
must
die
!
For
reasons
of
state
!
"
Let
's
go
,
"
says
Geralt
.
"
Down
the
stairs
.
We
must
.
It
must
be
so
.
There
is
no
other
way
.
Only
the
stairs
.
Down
!
"
His
lips
are
not
moving
.
They
are
blue
.
Blood
,
blood
everywhere
...
The
whole
stairs
in
blood
...
Must
n't
slip
...
Because
the
witcher
trips
just
once
...
The
flash
of
a
blade
.
Screams
.
Death
.
Down
.
Down
the
stairs
.
Smoke
.
Fire
.
Frantic
galloping
,
hooves
thundering
.
Flames
all
around
.
"
Hold
on
!
Hold
on
,
Lion
Cub
of
Cintra
!
"
The
black
horse
neighs
,
rears
.
"
Hold
on
!
"
The
black
horse
dances
.
In
the
slit
of
the
helmet
adorned
with
the
wings
of
a
bird
of
prey
shine
and
burn
merciless
eyes
.
A
broad
sword
,
reflecting
the
glow
of
the
fire
,
falls
with
a
hiss
.
Dodge
,
Ciri
!
Feign
!
Pirouette
,
parry
!
Dodge
!
Dodge
!
Too
sloooowwww
!
The
blow
blinds
her
with
its
flash
,
shakes
her
whole
body
,
the
pain
paralyses
her
for
a
moment
,
dulls
,
deadens
,
and
then
suddenly
explodes
with
a
terrible
strength
,
sinks
its
cruel
,
sharp
fangs
into
her
cheek
,
yanks
,
penetrates
right
through
,
radiates
into
the
neck
,
the
shoulders
,
chest
,
lungs
...
"
Ciri
!
"
