And that was how I knew I must appear. Oh, I’d lost the pointed ears, thank goodness. The more obvious signs of my elven condition were muted now. Magic was at a low ebb, though for some reason belief in it had never been higher. There were more charlatans and mountebanks claiming to turn lead into gold than you could swing a dead cat at. And they did a great bit of that, too. To drive out the demons.