Month after month, the meetings of the Learned Society of London Magicians attracted many ladies and gentlemen who wished to discuss (and learn) practical magic. Among them was a tall, very thin young man with a long, sharp face and tousled hair, who sat at the back of the room and never spoke, but his eyes were bright as he dreamt of hidden wisdom and Other Places and Other Worlds--he felt that such was his destiny. Sometimes he rubbed his hands (and his knuckles cracked, not unlike fireworks) and he smiled--for now, he would become a proper English magician, but later, there would be time to be freed from all rules.