Once his excitement settled, Rowan focused and cast a tracking spell.
Nothing happened.
No golden marker. No response.
He tried again. Same result.
"Still sealed," he concluded. "Both of them."
If neither Balthazar nor Horvath could be located, the most likely explanation was that the binding spells were still intact. The seals were blocking all forms of magical tracking.
That meant the story hadn't started yet.
Rowan smiled. "Good. That gives me room to move."
Before leaving, he wiped his tracks. A memory charm erased the homeowner's recollection of the night. As a small courtesy, Rowan added one last spell. Thick hair burst back across the man's scalp, undoing years of stubborn baldness.
Call it rent.
Rowan stepped onto the balcony, spread his wings, and vanished into the night.
Minutes later, the man blinked awake in his bedroom, confused by the glowing computer screen.
"Why am I in here…?"
He shut it down, shrugged, and headed for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror froze him in place.
"I… I have hair?"
Shock gave way to joy. He laughed aloud, already imagining the headlines this miracle might inspire.
Rowan didn't hear any of it.
He was already airborne again, following a new golden arrow.
"Drake Stone."
This time, the spell responded immediately.
Drake was the modern inheritor of Morgana's legacy. Years ago, his mentor had tried and failed to free Morgana from her prison and died for it. Drake survived, but instead of dedicating himself to magic, he had chosen comfort and fame, turning half-learned spells into stage illusions and becoming a celebrity illusionist.
Rowan wanted two things from him.
The ring.
And the book.
This world's magic relied on conduits. Without one, spellcasting was unreliable. Drake's enchanted ring could easily replace a wand.
As for the Book of Morgana, it contained the full spell archive of her faction. Leaving that untouched wasn't an option.
Rowan didn't intend to duel him. Drake wasn't worth the risk.
The arrow led him to a luxury high-rise. The top floor was fully lit.
Peering through the glass, Rowan saw Drake surrounded by several glamorous guests, music thumping, laughter echoing. The mood was indulgent and careless.
Rowan landed on the rooftop and waited.
Predators didn't rush.
At three in the morning, the lights finally went out.
He slipped back to the window, unlocked it silently, and climbed inside. Clothing lay scattered across the floor. The guests were gone.
From behind the bedroom door came exhausted voices and movement.
Rowan waited for the moment when Drake's guard dropped completely.
Then he burst in.
A paralysis spell struck first. At the same time, every piece of metal in the room surged toward Drake, ripping the enchanted ring from his hand before he could react.
To be safe, Rowan triggered another spell. His body expanded, fur rippling as he grew into a towering panda, nearly brushing the ceiling.
The precaution wasn't needed.
Drake froze instantly, locked in place without ever understanding what had hit him.
The ring landed neatly in Rowan's paw.
The onlookers screamed once at the sight of a giant panda filling the room, then fainted outright.
Rowan shrank back to normal size, unimpressed. "That was anticlimactic."
He slid the ring on and tested it. A clean spell discharged smoothly, faster and stronger than his wand back home.
Good enough.
After ensuring the others would remember nothing, Rowan dragged Drake into the living room. He didn't bother with questions. A mental probe gave him everything he needed.
"There you are."
Rowan returned to the bedroom and pulled a reinforced case from beneath the bed. Inside lay a massive tome, nearly half a meter thick.
The Book of Morgana.
Behind him, Drake remained frozen, his thoughts spiraling in disbelief. Of all the ways this night could have ended, being robbed by a spellcasting panda hadn't crossed his mind.
Not even once.