“Nothing much. In a week or two we’ll find you an apartment and furnish it according to your inclinations, after which I’ll get you off my back and you’ll get down to work. For the time being, you still have a few lessons left with me.”

“What kinds of lessons?”

“Very interesting ones. Don’t worry, the lessons in dining etiquette are over. It’s time to get down to business. At long last, I’ve acquired an assistant who has a distinct proclivity for Invisible Magic. You’ll be surprised to discover how easily it comes to you.”

“Wherever did you get the idea that I—?”

“Whenever did you stop trusting me?”

“The moment we stepped inside the home of your neighbor Sir Makluk! You never warned me about the palanquins and all the rest. I nearly died right there on the spot!”

“But you didn’t!” Sir Juffin Hully said. “Who would have thought!”

That night I not only retired to bed long before dawn, but slept like a log, to the great surprise of little Chuff. He already took it for granted that life only starts to get really interesting after midnight.

The next two days were busy and pleasant. During the day I read old newspaper files from the Royal Voice and Echo Hustle and Bustle. Sir Juffin had immodestly marked all the enthusiastic articles that had to do with the affairs of the Secret Investigative Force.

This made for far more exciting reading than the most piquant literature. It was the first time I had read newspapers in which dull announcements about the misuse of forbidden magic far exceeded stories about everyday murder, revenge, and extortion—though such things happen here, too, of course. I quickly learned the names of my future colleagues: Sir Melifaro (for some reason his first name was never mentioned), Sir Kofa Yox, Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli, Lady Melamori Blimm, and Sir Lookfi Pence. They pretty much made up the entire Minor Secret Investigative Force—and a fairly diminutive one it was.