Strax's mansion rose from among the trees as it always did: silent, solid, old enough not to need proving anything to anyone. The pale stones reflected the late afternoon light, and the tall windows were open, letting the air circulate freely. Nothing there seemed burdened with urgency.
Strax crossed the outer gate with long, lazy strides.
"—Aaah…" he stretched exaggeratedly, his arms raised above his head, his spine cracking in protest. A low groan escaped his throat, half exhaustion, half relief. "—Home…"
He pushed open the front door unceremoniously, letting it close on its own behind him, and walked a few steps into the main hall before dropping his bag on the floor as if abandoning invisible armor.
It was then that he saw them.
