I led Oak out of the living room, into the hallway, pausing at the
cellar door. It was only as I reached inside to turn the light on
that I remembered the bulb had gone.
“Bugger,” I muttered, turning to go back to the kitchen to fetch
a torch.
“Allow me,” Oak said, producing a crystal the size of a child's
fist from one of his many pockets. He shook the crystal vigorously,
held it to his ear, then sniffed it.
“An hour or more,” he said, tapping it with his index figure,
“That should allow us plenty of time.”
To my astonishment, the crystal began to glow. At first it held a
dull, weak light that barely illuminated his finger tips, but as the
seconds passed the light grew stronger and stronger, until it shone
with the light of a hundred watt bulb.
“Shall we?” he asked, taking the lead into the dark stairs down
to the cellar.
I felt like I wanted to apologize for the mess we'd find down there,
despite the fact that it wasn't our fault. I was about to say so,
when a quick glance ahead revealed the cellar to be perfectly neat
and tidy.
“I think we should proceed with caution,” I said to Oak as I
placed my hand on his shoulder, “Something untoward has been going
on down here.”
