Number One grabbed hold of the old man's robe. In a flash, she appeared elsewhere in a manner that was almost as sudden as the way she appeared in Metropolis. The main difference was, she hadn't noticed when she disappeared from Spain. The breaking between her reality and this one occurred seamlessly. This time, she couldn't not notice. Traveling with Fizaban was like being inside the eye of a storm. She imagined this must be how the cow in Twister felt.
Once they touched down, Number One found herself standing knee-deep in a fountain. As expected, her shoes, her socks, and a good portion of her jeans were soaked through. "Damp," she echoed quietly, looking down at the mess. She hated the feeling of wet fabric squishing inside shoes, but she didn't complain. It was nice of Fizban of take her here, and he didn't have to help her. Following Fizban's lead, Number One hoisted herself out of the fountain and proceeded to attempt to wring some of the water out of her pants.
When Fizban remarked on Winter Manor, she looked up again. "You don't know the owner's name?" she asked, disbelief creeping into her tone. She assumed, perhaps wrongly, that he brought her here because he knew the person. Instead, they apparently haven't even met. Number One frowned thoughtfully. "She's not going to mind that some random teenage girl is showing up on her doorstep looking for a place to crash?" The stately mansion in front of her certainly didn't look like a cheap motel.