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?
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