Witch’s Honour. Jan Siegel

them down the contents of the left one splashed over the rim. ‘Damn,’ she said. ‘Not again.’ She sucked at the injury, then lowered her hand, extending it until it was directly under the lamplight. ‘Gaynor…’ The scald-mark faded even as she watched, leaving her skin unblemished. There was no other burn to be seen.

      ‘What did you do?’ Gaynor demanded. ‘Is it more magic?’

      ‘Maybe,’ said Fern, ‘but not mine.’ There was a long moment while recollection and doubt turned over in her mind. ‘This happened before…when I set fire to Morgus. My hand was burned. Kal made me dip it in the river…’