---
Night took the city one careful step at a time. Roof by roof. Street by street. Windows went dark except for a few that held on to light like old friends who didn't want to say goodbye yet.
Up in the highest part of the Heart Magic Academy, a single lamp still burned. It made a small gold pond on a big, messy desk. Books were piled there in crooked towers, open to pages with thin ribbon marks, half-read, half-remembered. A long pipe sat in a stand; the bowl puffed one tiny bubble and went quiet. On a side table rested a tall hat that was very sure of itself and tried hard to look like only a hat.
Half of the office was light. Half was a shadow. The shadow looked like a place a story could hide.
Professor Snake sat in his chair and did not hurry. He had the stillness of a man who had learned that waiting is also a kind of work. He watched the dark part of the room the way a hunter watches the edge of a field.
