Through A Darkened Mirror

They say that magic is dead. It’s a convenient fiction, is magic — a quaint artifact of a history that never existed, a fairy tale. Unicorns and dragons, magi? Swords and ancient tomes are all just children’s stories. Nobody believes in any of it. But we’re giving that the lie right now as we step through this wall… like so… ah, and those flatfoots on the other side will have no idea where we’ve gone.
Go ahead and sit down a moment; you’ll need to absorb what I’m saying, and I need to catch my breath. No, don’t pick up that board. I’m not going to kill you or ensorcel you or eat your flesh or any of that crap. So shut up and listen, or you’ll have a very short life in the next few minutes, and not because of me.
Hang on. I’ve gotta do something else.
All right. We can hide here a bit without worrying about those cops. They’ll busy on the other side of the block. Gives me some time to bring you up to speed.