The storm clouds rolled in while my back was turned, my attention focused on pulling weeds from the garden. The only warning was a distant rumble of thunder and the sudden electrical charge humming in the air. I glanced over my shoulder as thick black clouds obscured the sun, churning across the sky towards me.
My heart lurched and I ran to the house to find Lisa, throwing the front door open.
“Storm!” I yelled.
Lisa appeared at the top of the stairs. She looked at me, then looked over my shoulder at the ever-darkening sky. It didn’t take long for her to grasp the significance of what was happening. Her eyes widened in fear.
“I don’t know,” I interrupted, “but we have to go. Now.”
Lisa nodded. “I’ll get the baby.”
While Lisa gathered the sleeping infant, I went back outside and unlocked the doors to the cellars, silently praying that our escape plan was sound. I fumbled in the dark, searching for the flashlight I’d placed there when we’d arrived. As Lisa came running out the front door, baby clasped against her chest, I took one last look at our garden and the quaint house we’d called home for the last four months. Country life had been nice while it lasted. Not running had been ever nicer.
I ushered Lisa through the cellar doors, flashlight illuminating her way, then stepped in behind her and pulled the doors closed just as thunder crashed above our heads, followed by a violent pounding of rain. I recited the spell to seal the lock, hoping it would hold. I was no wizard, but Lisa’s doula had taught me a few spells to help keep us safe. So far, they’d worked.
As we ran through the maze of underground tunnels, in search of our next safe house, I wondered for the hundredth time why we had been blessed with a child who was destined to bring an end to the Old Gods.
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