Jinn didn't have unfond memories of the pirate world the hotel had spilled them into so many months ago. Nothing had tried to kill him there, at least, and the scenery had been chaotic in a way Jinn didn't resent.
Then as now, he found himself dressed in clothes he didn't own as soon as he stepped onto the rickety dock. A brief moment of disorientation, of adjusting to the smell of sea and sand and the sweetness of decades' old spilled rum, and then he was glancing back over his shoulder.
Behind him, the portal remained, floating like a strange rift above the water.
So much for trusting a trickster god to keep people out of trouble.
The locals didn't seem to react to the portal or to him. One spared him a look as he walked by, then shot a covetous glance to the parrot on Jinn's shoulder, before finally being sick over a railing. Given the benefit of not one but two eyepatches, one for each eye yet doing nothing to affect his vision, Jinn pretended not to notice.
It didn't take long before the crowded shacks and overflowing taverns led him to a bustling sort of market, teeming with sellers hawking their wares and a shambling collection of not-quite-buyers moving from stall to stall, likely filching what they could along the way. It should have been impossible to recognize anyone in that mass of humanity. And yet: there was Yennefer, hip cocked as she looked over something in the palm of her hand.
Jinn considered leaving her to her own devices, but curiosity got the better of him. He sidled closer and peered over Yennefer's shoulder. "Hm. Looks like glass to me."