Gorel and the Pot Bellied God by Lavie Tidhar Read Free Book Online Page B

soft and plump. Their owner looked like a well-fed toad, though he was not sure toads could beam in such a disconcerting way. ‘It is so wonderful to have such a distinguished visitor as yourself at our humble house! Please, follow me! We have so much to talk about!’
    Mistress Sinlao (of the Third Pond Lineage) was effusive; she smelled of pond-water and expensive perfume; her skin was a dark, mottled green; she wore heavy rings on her fingers and her scalp was an imposing bald dome. She held him close to her as she led him through the gate and into the large garden that lay beyond. She also kept a running monologue, and an assumption that her visitor had a deep abiding interest in horticulture: ‘And over here we have the samtora flowers, very rare, their natural habitat is in Quicksilver Lake beyond Der Danang – we’re most fortunate to have obtained these specimens, you know, they are said to aid procreation –’ here a big, lusty laugh which made him uncomfortable – ‘oh, and these, not much to look at them, are they, they’re called urnak-dorn by the natives of Duraal – they do have the most barbarous language, don’t you think? – but quite wonderful, used by their medicine men for the aid of –’
    ‘Procreation?’ Sir Drake said, and Mistress Sinlao whooped a laugh and said, ‘How did you guess?’
    Most of the plants and flowers in the garden, as it transpired, were of a nature to aid reproduction; which made Sir Drake uncomfortable all over again, though he couldn’t quite say why. The gardens were spacious and extensive. Above them the house rose like an imposing jade monument. There were many windows but one could not see through them. There were balconies with no one sitting on them. The doors to the building were high and imposing and closed. The house sat there like a silent, closed-eyed toad; and yet Sir Drake had the feeling that, at any moment, the doors of its mouth might open, and a long tongue would snake out, and snap him up, and swallow him inside. ‘The Gorgol Saber plants only flower at night,’ Mistress Sinlao said conversationally, ‘when the river tides are high and the moon is waning. All other sorts of conditions too. Very useful plants.’
    ‘Procreation?’
    ‘Colds. I do tend to suffer in the rainy season. Come, sit.’ There was an open green parasol and a table underneath it and three chairs. Sir Drake took one, and Mistress Sinlao another. ‘My niece,’ Mistress Sinlao said, with only the barest hint of distaste in her voice, ‘told me you are on a quest.’
    ‘Indeed.’
    ‘Do you mind me asking where you met the little half-breed?’ the distaste was now palatable.
    ‘She ran into me,’ Sir Drake said, ‘trying to liberate me of my valuables, as it happens.’
    Mistress Sinlao snorted. ‘I hope you gave her a good hiding.’
    ‘I did what was necessary.’
    Mistress Sinlao grinned. ‘I hope you made it long,’ she said. ‘And hard.’
    ‘She didn’t complain,’ Sir Drake said, and Mistress Sinlao burped another laugh. ‘I think you’ll do,’ she said cryptically. ‘I think you’ll do just fine.’ She raised her hand and snapped long, fat fingers. ‘A drink, Sir Drake?’
    ‘That would be most pleasant.’
    ‘One must never forget the duty of hospitality,’ Mistress Sinlao said. ‘Although here in this House, we prefer to think of it as a… pleasure.’
    Sir Drake nodded. A girl materialised – where had she come from? A side door? Or had she been waiting unseen for a summons in the garden? – and brought over a tray. She was falang, with pale, almost translucent skin, and her eyes were large and frightened. Mistress Sinlao dismissed her without a word being spoken. She poured a fizzing blue drink into two tall glasses, and raised one glass in toast. Sir Drake mimicked her, and they drank. It made Sir Drake’s lips and tongue go numb for a minute after he drank it. A dark bird-shape flew overhead.
    ‘So tell me,’ Mistress Sinlao