Hellblades
“And if you stall me, they’ll be the least of your problems.”
“Threats already?” she chuckled, but it was dry. “I had almost forgotten your charm.” She turned, reaching for the shelves that climbed the wall behind her. Her fingers, gnarled but steady, skimmed over jars and tins, bottles sealed with wax, bundles of herbs dried to dust.
“Nightshade it is” she said, pulling down a black-glass jar. “One wrong breath and it paralyzes the lungs. One pinch too much, and the heart stops cold. You’re welcome”
Bab Populer