I knew nothing about magic until I received by mail a mysterious typewriter that can print itself. She earned her bread by keeping a secular chronicle, until the machine led me to the girl's corpse and dragged me into the investigation. I tried to stay away from love and affections until I undertook to help the main suspect in this brutal murder... Is this all a series of accidents or someone's clever game? And what will ultimately outweigh: facts or the voice of the heart?