The girl held the staff out in front of her, perpendicular to the ground. It was almost twice as tall as she was and seemed more like a tree branch than anything else. The top forked out into half a dozen sharp prongs
But it smelled like magic: a mix of burnt herbs and rusty metal like an itch in Tobias’s brain, and it crackled with potential power.
He couldn’t let that stop him. The witch had asked him to retrieve the stick, and he would do his duty. The familiar lowered onto his haunches and growled at the thief.

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