Shade comforted Miss Danist, then showed her the notebook in his hand:
"Actually, being able to find you wasn't solely my doing.
I also received a clue from this notebook's owner. He or she lived in Room 321 and seemed to have accidentally gone to the winter of 1763 as well. Miss Danist, did you encounter any other people who traveled through time in the past?"
The eighteen-year-old Red-haired Sorceress nodded instinctively:
"Yes, there was—"
Remembering that person's request for her to keep their identity secret, she did not continue. But then she thought of the beloved student standing before her and felt that refusing to give him an answer somehow seemed wrong.
The plump, round-faced owl flapped its wings a few times before Miss Danist spoke to Shade again:
"Yes, but can we discuss that tomorrow?"
She looked into Shade's eyes and found that he really did nod:
"Of course. I'll do as you say."
As he spoke, he handed the notebook to Miss Danist:
"Let's leave the broom closet first. Which room are you staying in at the inn? Wait a moment."
He looked again at the cabinet, which still had one use left. After trying to toss in the canvas that had just wrapped the corpse, he discovered to his surprise that it could not be turned into a toy:
"Can't it transform? I'll have someone make an identical cabinet first, then move this one away and replace it."
The room Miss Danist had rented was Room 317, right next to this broom closet.
Leaving the dim broom closet put Shade in a very good mood. Yet although Miss Danist had successfully returned to her own time, she looked terribly unwell. She was not as completely out of control as the man whose face had been severely