Prologue

Gravel crackled under the wheels as the carriages pulled up to the wrought iron gates of the manor house. One by one, as guests were welcomed into the walnut-furnished entrance hall, spirited conversation accompanying them, for each had received the same mysterious invitation. Yet their enigmatic host was curiously absent. As the last drink was served, a grandfather clock chimed the hour and the doors to the parlour were opened, accented by the subtle notes of bergamot and beeswax.

Here lay the subject of the conjurer’s missive, “The Collection” - a game of sorts, an enigma, or perhaps a test? Locked boxes of all shapes and sizes, the accoutrements of a showman, and all manner of artefacts and apparatus that once belonged to the great illusionists of the age. As eyes surveyed the display before them, the Collection gazed back, waiting for the guests to uncover its secrets.

Now friend, yes that’s right, I’m talking to you. Why don’t you step in from the cold, bring your friends too, and see for yourself if you have what it takes to uncover the mysteries of my collection?