“Amelia!” I call to her, gently but firmly. I must stop this dreadful roll call of doom and gain something from her that might be of use. She stops and turns to look at me, cocking her head. “I know this must be hard for you,” I say, “but we are grateful, truly we are, for your insight. Nothing is foretold that cannot be changed if we are prepared to try.” I have to believe this. All necromancers must, else what is the point of our art? Would there really be anything to be gained simply by being informed of the imminence of death?

“You cannot stop the war. It is coming, whether you will it or no.”

“That may be, but we can lessen the horrors it will bring. We can shorten the duration by our actions, perhaps. We can advise the men in power so that the worst, the terrible outcome you describe, might be averted. Can you help us, Amelia? Can you tell us who we should speak with?” I know that if she has, as she claims, foreseen such details as the deaths of the families of some present here, she must also be able to see who controls the armies, who makes the decisions, who should be pleaded or bargained with. Who must be stopped, whatever it takes.

Amelia thinks for a moment. “I might know,” she says. “But why should I tell? What will you give me if I tell? Will you let me feel the sun on my face again?”

“I’m sorry, my dear.” The Master of the Chalice steps in gently. “It is not in our gift to do such a thing.”

She looks at him sulkily. “But I want so to sit in the garden once more.”

“You are welcome to visit my garden,” I tell her.

“But only like this.” She stamps her foot. “Like a ghost. I want to feel warm again. To smell the flowers.”

“Amelia…” I try to comfort her, I want to. For her own sake, as well as ours. But she is upset now, and does not want to listen.

“Then I shan’t!” she says crossly. “I shan’t help you.” She scowls at me now. “Especially you! You are the one they want. You could save those boys. You know you could.”

“Amelia, I could not…”

“Yes you could, if you wanted to. And they will make you do it. They will take you away and make you do it!” she shouts.

There is consternation in the chamber now. None of us can know exactly what she means, but it is clear her vision involves me and my abilities as a necromancer.

“Who will take her?” the Master of the Chalice demands of the girl. “Who is it who threatens our Head Witch?”