The Owl House Luz Noceda Novels & Stories

An hour later, the gray Cullinan slowly drove into the Sanders Manor. Ocelotte opened the car door, his tall frame of six-foot-two passing through the foyer and into the living room. Although it was already the middle of the night, the Sanders Manor was still brightly lit. Noah was waiting for his youngest son to return late. Hearing the noise, Noah put down the chess pieces in his hands. He looked up and smiled at Ocelotte, who looked heartbroken. "Out prowling in the middle of the night? Did you catch anything?"

The owl, from the first glance, contains a powerful enchantment, but this young woman can make it responsive with her enchast. "This is bad. H-He was taken captive!" We rode on the horse again and followed the lead of the owl. We crossed a desert for 24 hours, a drought land for twelve hours, and a hot town as our destination albeit surrounded by trees. We arrived at night. People were busy with their laziness outside. And slavery was sore in the town; some dark people were being fed with provender, played by drunk men, and forced to work overnight.

Then he laughed and said something about foreigners and strange folks. We pulled into a street that was away from the so called trafic and skyscrapers. Well not really away, but at least here the houses weren't as tall. But they were long. The car finally came to a halt in front of a big house attached to another house and another house and another house. "There you go, 2445 owls street Los Angeles." He began leaning back in his seat. We all stared at the building. "Well? Aren't you coming out?" He asked whipping his head round to face out.