Quen sat in a tree, swinging one of her legs on the side of the branch as she studied Mastering the Elements: Black Magic Theory and Practice. The fading light of evening didn't bother her since she read with her fingers, but what she'd just felt did. The undead can also be harmed by simple healing spells and potions (see Offensive White Magic, pp. 153). She read it again, just to be sure.
So that was what Darius had meant. "Faram damn it," Quen cursed.
Just then, her network device beeped, alerting her that she had a message. "Message from L.K." her device said in its odd voice. "I shot perfect today. It's so easy to write stuff."
Quen laughed. "Does that mean you're done?" she called down to him. Closing her book, she dropped it onto the grass below. She put her network device into the pocket of her dress and grabbed the trunk of the tree, preparing to climb down. She'd always been a tree-climber. Anyone climbed more by feel than by sight anyway. Darius hadn't liked it, of course, but she'd only broken her arm that one time, when she was seven. That was the angriest she'd seen him for a long time.