12: Ni-Bump-ght - Ayala

It was child’s play to occlude the senses of others, he had been doing that since he was thirteen. This world had no defences against magic, the witch hunt pogroms had seen to that. He might still be a couple of years before reaching full mage status but he had eight years of training behind him and there were only one or two people he knew of who came anywhere close to his ability. One was Steven Strange, his mentor here in America, the other was the Faceless One and he, or she, was back in England.
“Definitely spirits,” Harry agreed. “You are quite right that it feels wrong. It is very wrong and very bad.” The fact she was aware of that spoke to innate senses, he didn’t think it was magic because she did not feel magical.
Like Ayala Harry had his attention focussed across the water but his senses were magically enhanced and were far beyond the other shoreline. He stayed quiet for a few minutes, glad of her lack of interruption, so many here felt the need to talk.
He stubbed his nearly finished cigarette and dropped the butt into a baggy which he sealed and stuffed away in his pocket.
“Fancy going to have a look?” he asked with a grin. He took a heavy looking jacket which had been hanging on a tree and shrugged it on. “I am going, you can tag along if you want.”