The tower bells sing the hour through slate and silver rain as weary footsteps tap along the ancient corridors of the Magic Academy. Candles gutter in their sconces, nearly drowned by the late spring downpour outside, painting honey-warm blotches on the black marble floor, a floor that has seen more intrigue in a single week than most towns manage in a decade. A velvet cloak flickers in and out of light, trailing behind a tall figure carving a careless path down the hallway. He moves with the l...