Looking down at his feet he realized he was hovering. He thought of weight, and gravity, and that immediately pressed him down the limestone tiles. He was standing by a satchel on the floor. The dark leather of the journal binding cover, stood out from the rest of the books inside. He felt tethered to the cursed object like a life source. That sort of attachment would be an inconvenience, but that was all his current status would allow. He was stuck with whoever was in possession of the diary. A second look around gave him a full visual of the person in question. 