[teleporting from
here]
Or it would have left bruises, if the wall had been there. S.T.'s hand slammed into a carton of orange juice, the prongs of the rings leaving a snakebite in the waxed cardboard. He pried it loose, and looked around. Place looked exactly the same as it had the last three times he'd been here.
"Hey, it worked." He waved at Harvey and Indy while he waited for the momentary perception that his stomach hadn't made the transit to fade. "Wonder what the catch is." There was always a catch. Magic rings of power didn't just bless people and look pretty. Why, exactly, his gut started twisting again at the thought seemed to be another missing file. He was pretty sure the right thing to do was to ignore it. Probably caused cancer.
"Blood, right? That's what these little bastards are. Either of you know more than that?" Blood looked pretty on snow, but it didn't form shiny little lattices. Then again, it didn't fuel magic transporters, last time S.T. had checked. It'd be nice. Commuting would run on iron supplements rather than fossil fuels.