By the time Witt woke Lowell, it was already the next morning.
"Lowell, do you have any buckthorn here?"
"What do you need buckthorn for? Its smell is too strong and compromises the effects of other herbs. I don't have any."
"We need its smell to lure the griffin. Where does it grow around here?" Geralt asked.
"I've seen some in the river over there." Lowell pointed upstream along the Lake Shira River.
Geralt glanced in the direction Lowell pointed and assigned their tasks one by one. "Then I'll find the buckthorn. Old Graz, make a dummy sheep indoors to lure the griffin. Remember to cover it with real wool so it looks convincing, or the griffin will see through it."
"I will." Old Graz nodded.
After assigning tasks to Old Graz and himself, Geralt looked at the remaining two and addressed Lowell. "Lowell, you're the village herbalist, so you should know the village well. Sorry for the trouble, but please take Witt to question the other witnesses. I need more information. Remember to visit the household where you found the griffin egg. I don't want to leave any other potential dangers unaddressed."
With that, Geralt gave Witt a meaningful look.
Witt nodded in understanding. "Then let's get to work."
Geralt headed upstream along the Lake Shira River, while Old Graz went to make the dummy sheep, and Witt followed Lowell toward the village.
Halfway there, Lowell could no longer contain his curiosity and asked Witt, "Witt, what potential dangers did Master Geralt mean?"
Witt smiled. "Didn't we say earlier that griffins only have one mate in their lifetime?"
"Yes."
"Well, you only saw one griffin. Where's its mate?"
"Well..."
"That's why I need to question the other witnesses and gather some clues, then look for any feathers the griffin might have shed to determine whether it's male or female and roughly how old it is."
Even more confused, Lowell asked, "Male, female, and age-what difference does that make?"
"Of course it makes a difference. If it's female and over twenty years old, we won't have to worry too much. Female griffins that age can sometimes lay unfertilized eggs after losing their mates, just like hens."
"Oh, I see." Lowell nodded, then continued, "What if it's something else?"
Witt's expression grew grave. "Then it'll be dangerous. If it's male, or under twenty, we might lure in more than one griffin. That's why our task is crucial."
Fear appeared on Lowell's face again. He had witnessed how vicious a griffin could be. Just one had already turned the village upside down. He dared not imagine what a terrifying sight two such monsters would make.
"Is that easy to determine? Even if two griffins come, you can deal with them, right? You're witchers, after all, and Master Graz is here too..."
"If the griffin egg were intact or still had some egg white left, it would be easier to determine. But now that only the shell remains, we'll have to infer it from other clues."
"When I found the egg, there was already nothing left but the shell," Lowell said shamefacedly.
"It wasn't your fault."
As they talked, the two reached the entrance to White Mist Village.
They had barely entered the village when a burly, dark-skinned man carrying a hammer greeted them. "Doctor Lowell, Doctor Lowell! Is this the master witcher you invited to deal with the griffin?"
The blacksmith recognized Witt's identity at a glance, and unlike the other villagers nearby, he showed no wariness. The villagers around Ban Ard were indeed more knowledgeable than people elsewhere in Kaedwen.
"This is Hayden, the headman of White Mist Village. He's also the village blacksmith and witnessed the griffin attack," Lowell introduced him.
"Hello, I'm Witt, a witcher. My companions and I are here to deal with the griffin attacks for you. Lowell invited us." Witt did not forget to put in a word for the herbalist beside him at the end.
At those words, the villagers looked at Lowell with no less astonishment than they did at a living witcher.
Witt silently noted the scene and asked Hayden, "Hayden, could you tell me what happened that day?"
"Of course, master." Hayden put down his hammer. His resolute gaze wavered somewhat as he recalled the events. After a long while in thought, he recounted everything he had seen that day.
"...I was working in the smithy when I saw that monster flying straight toward us. Without thinking, I rushed out with the hammer in my hand..."
Hayden's account was largely the same as Lowell's, except that, as a blacksmith, he had tried confronting it head-on.
Witt raised a hand to interrupt Hayden's recollections and asked, "Hayden, did you notice anything distinctive about the griffin's feathers?"
"Distinctive?" Hayden struggled to recall. "Its feathers were packed very tightly together, with almost no gaps, and..."
Someone nearby shouted, "Didn't Hayden's son pick one up? Bring it out for the master witcher to see!"
"That's mine! Mine... Dad earned that fighting the griffin all by himself! You can't take it!" Despite Little Hayden's futile protests, Witt obtained the feather.
"This is the feather!" Hayden pulled it from his son's clothes and glared at him.
The feather was dark brown all over, a color that helped griffins conceal themselves in the mountains.
Gripping both ends, Witt gave it a hard tug. The feather did not deform, remaining hard yet flexible.
"Hey, be gentle! That's mine!"
"Shut up! Or you'll get it when we get home!"
Most importantly, the feather's tip looked extremely sharp, like the point of a dagger.
It was a male griffin's feather, and judging by its coloration, Witt could tell that the griffin was in its prime. It could not be more than fifteen years old.
This is trouble. We might be facing more than one griffin, Witt thought.
Seeing the complicated expression on Witt's face, Lowell asked, "Witt, what's wrong? Is something off?"
Witt shook his head and handed the feather back to the boy. "No, this is definitely a griffin feather."
The boy quickly snatched the feather, tucked it against his chest, and snorted at Lowell. "Creepy Lowell! Even the master witcher said it's a real griffin feather! You're the one who's off!"
"What are you saying? Apologize to Doctor Lowell right now!" Hayden said angrily.
Lowell merely waved awkwardly, indicating that there was no need to mind it.
"Could you question the household where the griffin egg was found for me? I'll ask Headman Hayden a few more questions," Witt said, turning to Lowell.
Lowell nodded and left. He happened to have no desire to remain with these ignorant villagers any longer either.
"Master, what else would you like to ask?" Hayden looked respectful. Although he did not much like these witchers either, he had to admit that they were professionals when it came to hunting monsters.
"I have no more questions about the griffin. What I want to ask about is Lowell." Witt watched Lowell's retreating figure with a complicated expression.
"Lowell? Didn't you come with him?" Hayden froze, not having expected Witt to turn from asking about the griffin to asking about Lowell.