"Not sure," she admits. "I don't think so. But there was something familiar about it." She hesitates, remembering the hazy visions. Snow, and fog, and a wicked winter wind whipping at her, slicing like the edge of a knife. "...And something terrifying."

She looks from Lan Wangji to Geralt and back again, leaving her fingers curled around those of her friend. "The tower was stark and dead, but at the same time, I felt I had to enter it."

Geralt makes a quiet sound. "Did you?"

She shakes her head. "No," she murmurs. "The dreams all ended with me searching for the entrance."