Page 13 of Solivagant

The door closed on its own behind me. Vines sprouted from the floor, wrapping around my legs as the floor beneath my hooves turned from stone to mud, and I began to sink.

A laugh, cruel and familiar, echoed through the low-lit chamber.

“Oh, Khorli. Had you paid attention in your lessons, you’d have been able to see right through that.”

I looked at the elf grinning at me from the other end of the chamber. Out of reach. Young. Beautiful. An illusion.

“Witch,” I snarled.

“No. You know better than that.” Her voice deepened, taking on the husky quality I recognized. “Try again.”

The vines pulled me deeper into the mud. I used all my strength and still they wouldn’t budge. There wasn’t time for this.

“Priestess.” I spoke through gritted teeth.

She pursed her lips, head tilting to the side. It wasn’t the answer she’d been seeking, even if it was technically correct.

“No, I’m far more than that now. But that isn’t what you call me. Is it?”

The battle I wanted to fight, that she wanted to fight, had been a long time coming, but now was not the time for it. The vines pulled me another inch deeper, and I gave her what she wanted. “Grandmother.”

Her smile returned, wide and unnatural. “My, you are desperate.”

The illusion faded, the magic concealing her true form distorting.

Rich umber skin drained of elvish vibrancy to dark, dull gray. Limbs extended. Horns sprouted. She was larger than I remembered, even though I’d been smaller then. What had she been eating?

She hadn’t aged a day. Her skin and beauty were intact after all these centuries. I’d have thought she may still be distorting her appearance through magic if not for the red lines that streaked down her cheeks from her eyes like permanent tears. Those were new. And I had to wonder what pain she could have experienced, what tears she had to have cried for them to etch permanently into her features.

Her horns were not like mine, not taken from the soul deer. Rather, they were smooth, shining and sharp, sprouting from her skull like a crown over long black hair that touched the floor.

“Release me, will you?” I growled at her.

“I might, once you’ve told me why you’re here.”

I swallowed. Asking for help was foreign to me; asking her for help felt like absolute failure. But I’d do anything for Jem.

“I need… to alter a human soul.”

Her face revealed nothing as she stared at me for a moment. Then silver eyes rose to the flowers over my horns. “Which one?”

“None of these. The soul is still in his body, and it must remain there.”

Her head tilted, her eyes searching me for more information. “There is a human you wish to keep?”

I inhaled slowly and nodded.

She made a contemplative sound. Then held a clawed hand out toward me with fingers spread wide. “Best I can do is five.”

“Five what?”

“Life spans. Reincarnations. Maybe six if you’re lucky, before the human goes completely mad.”

“Five isn’t enough.”

“You’re welcome to find someone who can do better.”

We stared at each other, and she smiled. She knew there was no one else who’d even attempt what she was offering. But five lifetimes with Jem would never satisfy me.