Michael walks to the center of the cobblestone street and draws a transportation sigil. He needs a sigil for this tracking spell? Apparently this magic is difficult even for him… one of the “almighty” ancients.
He places the ring in the center of the sigil and beckons for me to join him.
Here we go again.
I place my hand in his and close my eyes, waiting to be yanked through yet another vortex.
When I open them again, we are on the top of a green hill facing an old cottage with a thatched roof. It looks like it could fall apart if I blew too hard in its direction. The windows are so old and covered in dust and grime that it’s impossible to see of there are lights on inside..
“Well then,” Michael sighs as he adjusts his robes and brushes his hands off with a clap, “I’ll leave you to it
