While the young wizards of Dormitory 403 lay in bed talking late into the night.
Far from the academy, in another ancient castle, Sir Friedman left his room alone and appeared without a sound in a dark corridor.
His vampire eyesight let him see clearly at night without any need for an Illumination Spell. That saved him a great deal of trouble.
At Alpha Castle, where rules were strict, the ten o'clock curfew was iron law for every student. So as Friedman walked the empty, silent corridor, he saw no sign of anyone else.
Even so, he cast an Illusionary Body Spell on himself in case something unexpected happened. Right now, he hated surprises of every kind.
The portraits in wooden frames along both sides of the corridor drooped their eyelids as though asleep. But Friedman would have bet his surname that the slightest noise would wake them, and they would spend the whole night cursing him in the most furious, vicious voices.
Around the corner stood a staircase leading down to the next floor.
Sir Friedman touched the Ruby Ring on his finger. Feeling its burning heat, he slowly closed his eyes and started down the stairs.
Seven steps down.
Three steps back up.
Then five steps down.
And one step back up.
He had followed this sequence countless times over the past three years. He could do it with his eyes closed. As he completed the final step, white mist silently billowed up from beneath the stairs. In moments, it swallowed the lowest few steps.
Friedman opened his eyes and stared at the rolling mist. After a long while, he gave a self-mocking smile and took a thick black robe from his Ruby Ring.
The robe was old-fashioned. Apart from its broad hood, it had no adornments, and