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bulb of light. A hospital, perhaps, except she could hardly afford to pay for treatment. What had happened to her in the Library? “What happened to me?”
    Daria looked down at her, her large eyes worried. “They found you in your workroom, slumped over the table,” she said. “Something sounded the alarm and called them to help you. But you were completely stunned, so they brought you to the Merciful Rest. I hear that Miss Prim is going to be picking up the bill for your stay.”
    Elaine stared at her. “How long...how long have I been out?”
    “Four days,” another voice said, from behind her. Elaine looked up to see a tall thin man, wearing a long white robe. A druid, she realised; a sorcerer who specialised in medical treatment. “Whatever hit you hit you very hard. It must have been a very powerful curse bound into that volume.”
    A memory flashed into Elaine’s mind. There had been a sealed book, held closed by a charm...and she’d tried to open it. And then...nothing.
    “I thought we were going to lose you that first day,” the druid added. “None of our treatments seemed to work, but thankfully you started to come out of it on your own. Is there a god of librarians who might have protected you?”
    “I don’t know,” Elaine admitted. There was a god for just about everything, but she couldn’t recall one specifically for librarians. Her head was refusing to clear. She hated having headaches at the best of times, yet this was far worse than anything she had ever experienced. “But if there is, I will light a candle in thanks.”
    “That would be a good idea,” the druid agreed, dryly. He produced a wand from his sleeve and started to run it up and down her body. “Most of the curse seems to have dissipated on its own, but I’d recommend a few more days of rest. Stay away from magic too – this curse seemed to have tried to hijack your own magic and galvanise it into attacking you. You were very lucky. Something of that power should have killed.”
    “I don’t understand,” Elaine said, slowly. “I checked for deadly spells.”
    “Some of the black magicians who create new curses are very good at hiding them from our detection spells,” the druid said. There was an odd note in his voice, one that promised blood and pain for any dark magician he caught. “I’d give a great deal to meet the bastard who invented this one. My best guess is that it was really nothing more than a standard compulsion spell, but with enough power to slip right into your mind and try to force you to commit suicide. Now, I’m going to put you back to sleep and...”
    Elaine opened her mouth, but it was too late. His wand touched her forehead and she was out like a light.
    ***
    The next time she opened her eyes, it was daylight. Bright sunlight was streaming in through a window she hadn’t noticed the last time she’d been awake. Her head felt better, although it still seemed as though there was something jammed inside her mind. Elaine sat up in bed and looked around, half-hoping that Daria was sitting next to her bedside. But there was no sign of her friend. Instead, there was a jug of orange-flavoured juice and a small gourd of potion for her to drink.
    She looked over at the door as another druid stepped inside. He was older than the first druid, with a long white beard that hung down to his legs, but his eyes were kind and Elaine liked him on sight. One hand held another gourd of potion, which he passed over to her and motioned for her to drink it. It tasted foul, but somehow she found herself thirsty enough to swallow it all down. He picked up a glass of juice and passed it to her. Elaine swallowed gratefully. It tasted far better than the potion.
    “I should hope so,” he said, when she pointed that out. “I don’t want people drinking more of my potion than they need. It can be addictive to those with weak minds.”
    He sat down beside the bed and looked at her. “How are you feeling