The map I'm given is poorly sketched, and the instructions are hard to understand, but somehow I find my way across town to what I think might be the right block. If Thorne were here, I'd ask him to help. He knows this city far better than I do.
My footsteps lead me to a small hut, much smaller than the buildings that surround it, that looks like something that would be more at home in the deep woods than in the middle of a bustling city. "Grandmother Araminta--Fine Herbs" was carved onto a wooden shop sign hanging above the front door.
"This must be it," I smile as I open the door.
Chimes tinkle overhead as I enter the cool shop smelling strongly of rosemary and thyme.
Hearing the sound of the bells, a withered old witch comes forward, the scent of cinnamon and cloves following her
