Modern Magick

As an agent of the Society for Magickal Heritage, I, Cordelia Vesper, have an important job: rescue endangered creatures, artefacts, books and spells wherever they are to be found. It's a tough job, but somebody's got to keep British magick alive. So we rescued a valuable book from a long-lost library, only it proved to be unusually... chatty. And it's got a foul mouth, too. What manner of weird magick is this? Somebody else thinks it's pretty interesting, too. Ancestria Magicka, they call themselves. Brand new. Big trouble. But why are they so interested in the book's creator? The woman died six hundred years ago. It's grave-robbers, necromancers and thieves all the way, and when things get that kind of crazy, there's only one thing to do. Call in the Toil and Trouble department.

Fresh from an involuntary crash course in the Stranger Arts, I've a new mystery on my plate: the inexplicable reappearance of a particularly fantastic magickal species. Which is great, don't get me wrong. Rescuing magickal beasts is what we do around here. But the Dappledok Pup hasn't been seen since the seventeen hundreds; so how did we find one, alive and kicking, over two hundred years later? And this beast has a talent for sniffing out treasure, no less. Happenstance? Maybe not. Is there something sinister afoot? And what does any of this have to do with an unusually perambulatory tower? Aided by a talking book, a spriggan with a taste for vintage fashion and the best Waymaster in the business, nothing can stop me from finding out the truth. Can it?

Cast away from the Society (sort of) and out on our own, we've got a big problem on our hands - and an exciting prospect, too. They call it time travel on TV. Is this the big, fat secret the Hidden Ministry's been keeping? What's the real truth behind that wandering tower? Answers must be found - in the face of severe opposition from the Ministry, from Ancestria Magicka, and from every Fae Court in existence. Simple. If only everything wouldn't keep going wrong. If only a house hadn't walked off with Jay. If only there wasn't still a traitor on the loose, and if only Ancestria Magicka wasn't always up to no good. With our trusty trio down to two, Zareen and I are going to need some help. Handsome, aristocratic, troll-shaped help, to be precise. Our mission: track down a vanishing island, save the Striding Spire, and find the way back to 1789. Oh - and find out what exactly has become of Jay...?

Somebody thought it would be a great idea to send us to the Troll Court. Because somebody imagined I might be the perfect person to help with a certain wild and crazy plan of Their Majesties' concoction. They want to restore the lost city of Farringale. I can only say that I heartily approve. There is the tiny problem of how, of course; but who better to dig up the truth than the Society's most colourful agents? Off questing we go, armed with a long list of questions, two winning smiles (well, three, if you count the Baron's - and who wouldn't?) and a certain Dappledok pup. Only, history has a way of being... slippery. The only way to find out what really happened at Farringale is to go back there, poke it with a stick, and see what falls out. And try not to die in the process. It'll be fine. With my enchanted pipes in tow, a unicorn at my side and three trusty allies at my back, what could possibly go wrong?

Fun" for all the family... I haven't heard from my mother in six years - which is why I was surprised to receive a summons from her. The peremptory kind. With nothing but a set of map co-ordinates to guide me, what exactly was I to expect? The short answer? Trouble, for Mother Dearest is in rather a lot of it. And like daughter, like mother, for there's a shiny artefact in the offing, and only a few gigantic lindworms in the way. Who isn't up for a minor little challenge like that? It's off to Faerie with us, for the artefact in question was once the property of the legendary King Evelaern; and who doesn't love a nice bit of ancient royal treasure? Only as it turns out, the declining kingdom of the Yllanfalen may hold some unexpected truths about my past...

We're all mad here... Dispatched overseas - far, far overseas - we're in hot water. Again. Following in the footsteps of a long-lost king, we're on the road to the mysterious Vales of Wonder. The upside? It's a hot-bed of magickal marvels, the likes of which we've literally never seen before. The downside? Danger. Because who ever said adventure would be easy? Fortunately, we have help. One reviled but aggravatingly handy beast specialist: check. One world-famous, awe-inspiring, purple-clad troll scholar: check. One perambulatory, half-mad house with a crush on Jay: check. Not to mention a magickal pup, an even more magickal unicorn, a talking book, a jewelled scroll-case map, a magic Wand, an ethereal faerie lyre, and an excitingly untested tool from the Society's own hermit genius. With an arsenal like that, the mission can only be an unqualified success. Right...?

Stranded far from home, and unable to return, I am in bigger trouble than ever. I know I say that a lot, but this time it's really true. Not that there aren't advantages to my particular predicament. If one must put up with a dangerous degree of magickal potency, one is duty-bound to... put it to use, no? Who knows what could happen? Certainly nothing insane, irresponsible and potentially life-threatening. As if. But we'll need every possible advantage in the Hyndorin Mountains. For there, hidden behind layers of secrets, could be the answers we are looking for. Answers, questions, and dangers - and the kind of disobliging foe who just won't stop coming back. Aided by the serene Emellana (still enigmatic), the delicious Baron (still charming), and the animal-loving Miranda (still irascible), can Jay and I find the way to save modern magick?

It's all very well deciding to build the means to save British magick. Top marks for ambitious goals! ...But there are one or two obstacles in the way. For one, said means does not yet exist, and it'll take a genius to sort that one out. Luckily, we've got one of those. We call him Orlando. For another, nothing at all can be built without materials, and no common-or-garden commodities will do. It's got to be silver. The impossibly rare, virtually extinct kind. This one's on me, Val and Jay. So it's down into the depths of history in search of the answer. Could the crackpot alchemists of ages past really turn lead into magickal silver? Everyone says it's impossible. But if we can't find a way to conquer the impossible, what's to become of magick?

Four years ago, somebody pinched perhaps the most valuable book in existence. Merlin's personal grimoire. And the price they're offering for its return is the kind we can't refuse, so it's Ves and Jay on the case. Except that there aren't any clues. Seriously, not even a little one. Nothing's going to solve this case but a Vesper-patented Crazy Plan, and it had better be a good one, for complications are sprouting like daisies. At least it's a straightforward mission. There's no earthly way this one's going to turn my entire life upside down... right?

Rumour's got a lot to say for itself, and the message is clear: the regulator's ready. You know. The magickal regulator. The bright and shiny thing with which we, Team Improbable, propose to restore magick to a fading Britain. Somebody's got to test it, and that somebody is us. Which means wading into the depths of a long-dead realm that nobody's entered in centuries. And I may have had some practice at that, but this time it's different. This time, somebody's still home. And they really aren't happy about trespassers. Looks like disaster's on the agenda. Again. Not to worry, though. Where there's life, there's hope. And... dancing. Ves and Jay return in a fresh bout of magickal madness! Grab your dancing shoes and hang onto your hat. It's going to be wild.