“Come inside,” the man — the warlock — said. “It’s insufferably hot out there.”
Loc couldn’t argue with that description. It was brutally hot and humid. And, although he could still feel the evil that seemed to flood every corner of the house, he was unable to detect any spells directed at him, whether to trap him here, or possibly attempt to tap into his own enormous powers.
“Thank you,” he said politely, and stepped into the foyer.
At once the man closed the door, although again, the movement didn’t seem particularly sinister, but rather an attempt to keep any more of the precious air conditioning from seeping outside. The foyer was small, furnished in the sparsely elegant style of the Biedermeier period. A landscape of a rolling green countryside hung above a small table.
“This way,
