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sensitive magicians watching for any sign of a necromancer like those who had started the war. All of the knowledge flowing through her head seemed to confirm one thing she had been taught in school; the defeat of the Witch-King had been a very near thing. The Necromantic Wars could have ended with the Lords of the Dead ruling over an undead world for the rest of time.
    She looked over into the mirror, seeing her haunted eyes and tired expression. It was a surprise that all the new knowledge hadn’t changed her, but perhaps it had in some ways beyond her ken. There were spells that could have made her as beautiful as Millicent, reshaping her body until she had the charm and sex appeal of a succubus. And yet, there were less dangerous ways to use magic for cosmetic purposes, but they wouldn’t have changed who she was. Even if she had been far better looking that Millicent, she would still have been the same Elaine underneath. She couldn’t have hoped to compete with her.
    There was a click as the door opened, revealing one of the druids. “You should be in bed,” he said, reproachfully. “You’re not ready to get up without supervision.”
    Elaine hesitated. There were spells that could make him forget what he’d seen, even though he would be protected against accidental magical discharges from his patients. Or there were spells that could convince him to let her go now and then forget that she’d ever existed. But using them would be wrong. She’d hated it when Millicent had made her run through the corridors naked or humiliate herself in front of the other girls. It would be wrong to use her new knowledge to do the same to others.
    “I just wanted to stand up,” she said, as she walked back towards the bed. Whatever else could be said for the foul-tasting slop the druids fed her, it did give her remarkable levels of energy. But then, most of it was meant for recovering from the curse that had hit her. “Do you have something else to drink?”
    “You should be eating properly now,” the druid said. “I’ll have something brought in for you. Eat it – and if it stays down, you can probably consider leaving tomorrow.”
    Elaine watched him leave, shaking her head. Now that she knew what the curse had done, she felt much better, at least physically. But mentally...? She knew what the Inquisitors would say if they discovered what had happened to her, even if it hadn’t been her fault. There were some magical curses that meant that their victims had to remain segregated from normal society for the rest of their lives, or transfigured into stone to ensure that they could no longer threaten anyone else. And her curse was knowledge...knowledge she hadn’t intended to acquire, but still made her an incredible danger to the status quo . The Inquisition would try to wipe her mind and, if that failed, kill her. They wouldn’t have any choice.
    She looked up as one of the nurses entered, carrying a small tray of stew. The smell reminded her of how hungry she was, even though she had been fed a number of potions over the last few hours. It suddenly seemed the hardest thing in the world to take small bites and nibble the food, hoping that it wouldn’t start forcing its way out of her stomach again. Some of the potions the druids had given her didn’t seem to like competing with proper food.
    But this time it all stayed down, thankfully. She closed her eyes and went to sleep, praying to the gods that Inquisitor Dread wouldn’t return to ask more questions with his voice of compulsion. She’d have to answer...and that would be the end of her. They’d kill her if they couldn’t cure her and she knew, somehow, that there would be no cure. Whoever had designed the curse hidden in Duke Gama’s book had meant it to stick.
    ***
    “You’re much better,” the druid said, the following morning. “I think you can probably go home, but remember to take it easy for the next two weeks. Do not use magic unless you absolutely