The door swung open with ease, as if someone had oiled it recently. Not a nice thought. Paul looked around. There were lots of dusty vases, and even a stuffed panther’s head on the wall. He walked through the threshold, into a long corridor with lots of doors. Okay thought Paul The staff should be easy to spot. I mean, there aren’t that many time-controlling staffs around. But the search proved harder than he thought. Door after door he opened, and each one filled with nothing interesting, just dry, old books and relics. After two hours, he was confident he had searched the house from top to bottom, without a trace of the staff. He was about to leave in a very bad temper, when something caught his eye. There was a very small crack in the floor, half hidden by the carpet. He bent down and lifted it up, to inspect the crack. But he realised it was more than just a fissure in the wood. It was a trapdoor.
He had climbed into the narrow space and found himself in an almost completely bare room. At first he thought it was empty, so his heart ached with disappointment. But then he noticed something leaning against the wall behind him. It was a staff.
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