The portal shone as the two figures stepped through it. The woman wore the robes of a Grand Wizard, the man the shabby suit of an estate agent. A thick forest clustered around them, a fairy tale palace just visible through the canopy.
“As you can see,” he said. “Very mature growth for a pocket plane and fantastic accommodation. A real bargain.”
“Yes…” she hesitated. “It is remarkably cheap for a plane of this size. A death, you said?”
“The last owner passed away a few years ago. The family just want rid of it. We’ve had a few people interested but… it keeps falling through.”
A squawk sounded overhead. A magpie peered down at them from a nearby tree. The estate agent paled.
“Can you see another one? Just one’s bad luck.”
The wizard snorted, “You can’t believe such nonsense.”
“Ah well, the old lady was a bit of a literalist with her superstitions. Her plane, her rules, and luck’s a bit more…”
The bough beneath the magpie cracked and crashed, crumpling the wizard beneath its weight.
“…forceful here.”