Millicent deMage clung to her secrets. Day by day we worked to dig them up but found only a snippet here or an oblique reference there. Despite what I had imagined, her diaries weren't full of witches?hexes, gory details of people she had ruined, or an outline of how to release an undead plague on the world. Each page was crammed with the boring description of daily life in Elizabethan England. Of interest to a historian, but I struggled to keep my eyes open.
While merely conjuring her image still made me shudder, she was an enemy we needed to understand. The more I learned of her through her words, the less I feared her. At night, all the disjointed threads we chased spun through my mind. Like silvery strands from a spider's web, they seemed unrelated until you stood back and saw them woven together. Now I only needed to decipher what the pattern said.