Magic shouldn't exist. Manx was certain of that.

But not because this was an age of technological wonder. An age of steam and electricity. There were no wizards. No spells. Not even because as a librarian he lived in a world of reason – and books. Instead Manx had a better reason for his view. Magic was a curse!

He had three gifts. Three curses. He could summon fog – and then he could wander around blindly inside it like everyone else! He could control men's thoughts – but only to make them lust uncontrollably after him! And he could speak with animals – but only with cats. And they never said anything he wanted to hear!

But now it seemed, magic was returning to the world. There were demon beasts in the streets and a woman in silver who wanted to kill him. There were people with antlers and three eyes. And there was chaos. Now people were learning what he'd always known.

That the world was better off without magic!