Beneath the varnish there appearedto be tiny letters or symbols crudely carved into the wood, as if hackedin with a knife. The rest of the wand felt p...rfectly smooth, as ifmachined on a lathe. I waved it around, experimentally testing theweight. It seemed surprisingly well balanced.What a joke. I had no time for Dad's hippy obsession with personalgrowth, the bogus hocus-pocus that adorned his junk pile of brokendreams. And I was damned sure that if magic existed it didn't comepackaged as a. No sounds at all. Not even rats. She picked up a loose piece of wood and used it to press the light switch in case is was dangerous. Nothing happened. No power. Carol shone her light onto the floor again and saw the path made by a myriad of footsteps. Someone had been using this place. Maybe addicts. She ran the light up the hallway and found it stopped at a door. A quick check of the lock found there was none and she pushed it open, moving in swiftly with the gun ahead of her. Carol swept. More

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