Page 128 of New Storm Rising
Just in time to see the real Mr Rikkard Ambrose open Nelly’s present.
Maybe you should have kept your eyes closed after all.
But what came out of the paper wrapping was certainly not what I had expected. It was…
What was it exactly?
I peered at the strange, furry object. It looked a bit like a glove. Except without fingers. And for a hand the size of a yeti’s paw. There were buttons down one side and…a cute bear stitched on the front?
This woman needed help. Urgently.[27]
Making a mental note to send over a doctor with an in-depth knowledge of a…certain area of therapy, I took a cautious step towards Nelly and Mr Ambrose, who was looking down at the cute embroidered bear as if its existence personally offended him.
“Um…very nice.” I cleared my throat. “I’m sure my husband appreciates it very much. Thank you.”
Now…can you tell me what the heck it is?
I didn’t ask that question out loud, though. Taking into account my own present, I was somewhat afraid of the answer. Grabbing my poor, innocent husband by the arm, I dragged him towards the coach, before his pure mind got corrupted by this wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“But now we really have to go. I wish you all the best! And, um…have fun, Nelly. Do take care of yourself, Jack. And if things get too much, I’m sure we could always find a place for you should you decide to flee to England. Toodeloo!”
And before Nelly could take out her collection of sex toys, I leapt into the coach, dragging Mr Ambrose after me. Karim, who, bless his bushy beard, seemed to sense my urgency, leapt up onto the box and cracked his whip. Moments later, our carriage started rolling down the dirt road, the long line of prisoner transports starting forward right behind us.
“Goodbye!” The crowd chorused, waving their handkerchiefs. At least Ihopedthey were handkerchiefs. “Safe journey! Come back to visit soon!”
Yep, of course I will! Right after I go pay a visit to Mr Incubus in Pandemonium City.
Who would have thought that such a tiny town could hide such a perverted little vixen? I gave a sigh of relief. Well, at least now we were on the journey back, and from now on, everything should be orderly and peaceful.
***
A lone rider raced across the barren land, his dry and burning eyes fastened firmly on the horizon. He hadn’t changed his horse in hours, and sweat was pouring down the poor mount’s flanks. But he didn’t stop, not even when a pack of coyotes started chasing after him, snapping at his heels. There were much scarier things in this world than coyotes.
One had sent him here.
And he was riding straight towards another.
Finally, the coyotes got tired of chasing him. A flickering speck appeared in the distance. At first, the rider thought it was just a Fata Morgana, his exhausted mind playing tricks with him—but then the flickering speck solidified into the shape of several dilapidated houses.
¡Maldición!Why couldn’t it have been a Fata Morgana?
He would have much preferred that to him actually reaching his goal.
With a growl, he spurred on his horse one last time and shoved his terror to the back of his mind. If he rode on, he would only be risking his own life. If he returned empty-handed, however, his family…
“Yee-ha! Faster! Faster!”
It seemed like hours, no, days, but finally, his horse approached the ragged, haphazard collection of houses. Underneath the rider, his mount suddenly started to tremble. On instinct, he leapt to the ground, just a moment before the horse toppled over with a crash. Panting, the man staggered away. Some steps away he came to a stop, supporting himself against a creaking wooden post riddled with termite holes.
He allowed himself just one minute to catch his breath. Then, dragging himself upright, and not bothering to glance back at the body of his horse, he trudged into what had once been a town. Now, though? It couldn’t even be called a ghost town. No self-respecting ghost would haunt a place like this, when there were so many nice castle ruins available in Europe. With every gust of wind, the houses shuddered, ready to collapse. Piles of sand and dirt had already blocked most doors as well as many of the windows, and most houses that had more than one floor had already completely collapsed.
Cautiously, the rider without a horse moved down what had once been a main road. There was not a single soul in sight. Was this really the right place? Maybe there wasn’t anybody in those ruins, and the individuals he was looking for had long since moved o—
Click!
Suddenly, he felt something cold against his neck. Something cold and metallic.
“Easy, boy,” a low, gruff voice came from behind him. “One wrong twitch, and I’ll blow your head off.”
