Hecate felt the sickness before she ever touched Marcie, and the curse prickled up her fingertips when she did. Grimly, she prodded at it with her mind, her face neutral, but everything she learned just backed up her first impression. She could feel Marcie's anticipation as keenly as she could feel the aggressive attack beneath her skin, and though she'd warned her it may take some time to properly feel out the curse, it was cruel to make her wait in hope. "This is a deathbed curse, Marcella," she said, grief and anger tightening her brow. "It had the weight of his whole death behind it. I can't just undo this."