Chapter 189: The Veil of Quicksand

Thelma Zane’s POV We came up empty-handed. The entire afternoon had passed in fruitless effort, and not a single useful discovery had been made. The ruins of the witch clan weren’t vast, comprising only about thirty structures. Dorothy and I had painstakingly combed through six houses, inspecting every corner, from creaking attics to dusty underground cellars. All we found was dust and silence—no hidden chambers, no magical artifacts, nothing to suggest Mullwica’s presence. Now, we sat by the fire, the flames flickering weakly as we ate our modest dinner. The search weighed heavily on us. The ruins, cold and unforgiving, seemed determined to guard their secrets. “It’s possible Mullwica lived underground,” Dorothy suggested between sips of soup, her tone contemplative. “Or maybe she was a space sorcerer unlike any other, creating a home that defied physical boundaries.” “That’s all we have to go on,” I replied with a sigh. “Her home must be here, but if we can’t find