Grandmother takes me to the dungeons, and the guards already know why we are there. My grandmother, in a mind link, tells me to look up. "These are ancient rocks; you could also say they are living rocks. They protect themselves from harm. They consider magic harmful, so they use electricity to stop it. It is funny, really their kryptonite is rubber. Then, of course, every king has witches put wards of protection, keeping people out. Back to the rocks. Witches keep the rocks' weaknesses a secret, otherwise they would be useless as a protection against evil magic. I had already put on rubber shoes before coming into the dungeon. My magic will be unaffected.” In response to my grandmother's mind link, I replied. "That's pretty neat and yet so simple." Grandma nods and says, "Everyone looks at me as a great witch; I may be, but most of what I know is what my predecessors taught me." Grandmother and I walk through the dungeon hallways, and the dungeons are more modernized, not ugly, an
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