"Emet-Selch doesn't know much about the curses of this world, evidently, so the best he can do is all physical, and I'd prefer not to trouble him constantly, at least. And the Coven..." Irhya hesitates. "I'll be honest, I don't know how much I trust the Coven, and I'm not saying that out of embarrassment or shame."

Perhaps she'll end up having to swallow her pride in the end, she thinks, but it was bad enough having to rely on them for Cwyld treatment, even remembering what had transpired during the liberation of Dorchacht.

Every magic has a price.

"There is one other I might turn to, but he's been sparse, and I've been unable to get a hold of him recently. So that's my remaining recourse." She slides the saddle across the table, locking eyes with him. "That's why."