Marsden cannot remember his real name, nor how he came to be a valet for the schoolboy son of a powerful magician. Phantom wisps of incense and narrow glimpses of memory are all he has, until he chances upon a family secret which only compounds intrigue. What might his young master Abel know of his amnesia? What binds him to the Wensleys? And why does he, a simple valet, know fragments of magic?
“From the moment we meet Marsden, reeling from a lungful of smoke and unable to remember his own name, I found myself entranced.”
“Engaging characters moving about in a world that is surprisingly vivid for a short story.”