The house, it turned out, was not in one piece. Most of the windowpanes were broken, and the door had been pried open. But the door was made of heavy oak and whoever finally broke in would have worked long and hard at it. The bits of wooden laying on the ground still looked fairly fresh, so it hadn’t been long since it happened. This was the only consolation Satchel had as he and Hastiand stood a few paces away from the entrance.
“Filthy thieves,” said Hastiand. “No offense.”
