Pulling the large black-iron handle of one of the formidable, cedar double doors, he entered the vestibule, instantly greeted by the pervasive smell of beer, and another beaver.
“Why is he so important to you? Wait.” His hood raised like eyebrows, and I felt panic and a heat creeping up my face like someone asked the classic “truth” in truth or dare.
“Ooh. Playing the ‘no-thumbs’ card I see,” Spot got close to Lillium’s face. “Well, I’ve got hundreds of spells and potions under my belt and I’ve only had magic for a year.”
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