No Port in a Storm by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0000000000000
Published: 2023-11-07T00:00:00+00:00

With a salve for his hip and a tea for his wife to sleep, Ghat told Gilbert and Millie that they could leave. The stairs gave Gil less trouble going down than they had going up, but Millie took them slowly, ready if he needed help. He smiled, about to thank her, when he noticed her ears twitch.

Fire exploded from the shop window. The small, distorted panes of glass shattered inward, tearing apart a display table of sewn poppets and lighting them on fire. His heart leapt into this throat, and Gil grabbed Millie, diving for cover behind Ghat’s counter. He tried to take the brunt of the impact, grunting in pain as he landed on a pile of sticks that snapped under his weight. As he pushed himself to his feet, Gilbert saw he hadn’t landed in a pile of sticks at all. He’d landed on a pile of bones. Some were small, but others weren’t. Gil wasn’t familiar enough with the inside of people’s bodies to know if they were humanoid or not.

“Get down!” Millie shouted over the crackle of hungry flames.

For a moment, Gil thought she was talking to him. He blinked, spotting Ghat descending the stairs with wide eyes. The world around him slowed down as his heartbeat raced. Gil watched the conjure queen walk toward the fire, confusion plain on her face. The world snapped back to its normal speed as another bottle smashed into the shop.

Ghat spun on her heel and pointed behind Gilbert toward the back of the shop.

“Get out!” she hissed, lifting a hand toward the flames. They’d spread rapidly over the dry goods, smoking fiercely as the fire consumed the wall of herbs hung up to dry.

Gilbert shoved the tin of cream into his pocket as he and Millie scrambled to their feet. She grabbed his hand tight, leading him beyond the curtain to the rear of the shop. Gilbert blinked as they passed some altars with bones and bread laid out in front of them, others with thick tallow candles that would only add further fuel to the flames. Another smash and whoosh from the front of the shop suggested that the sooner they all got out of the burning building, the better.

Reaching the back door, Millie unlatched it and kicked it open.

“Oh, thank God,” Gilbert muttered as they emerged into Ghat’s back garden. All kinds of herbs and flowers were growing, most of which were completely new to him. For example, the strange ghostly flowers that seemed to rustle and dance of their own accord not more than a foot away from him.

“Wait,” Millie gasped, throwing her arm in front of him.

“Snakes,” Gilbert said, shuddering as the garden came alive with scaly bodies slithering away from the fire, heading for the narrow alley between Ghat’s garden and the one of the building opposite. Some were thin grass snakes, too small to be of any concern, but others were thick muscular things, as thick as Gilbert’s forearm with a pale line across their mouths.

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