The Elfmaid's Curse (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 1) by Warren Thomas

back."
                Danica tensed.
                From between clenched teeth, "The Wizard Talar used to be the Sorceress Taara, until she stole my body last night and left me in this...her old body."
                Mother Zelma's eyes went wide a second, "Indeed?"
                "Yes," Danica said, feeling her face heating up. "Now I want to know where he is so I can get my body back."
                The Vikon witch gazed at her a moment, worrying the inside of her cheek. Unable to meet her frank gaze, Danica dropped her eyes to study the floor tiles.
                "Give me your hand," the Vikon said. After Danica complied she began a low chant in some strange language.
                Not understanding what she was saying disturbed Danica. Was she conversing with demons? Gods? Then the hairs on Danica's nape rose as the Vikon witch began drawing strange designs on her palm with a finger. She tried unsuccessfully to stifle the chill running up her back.
                Suddenly Zelma's eyes popped open, "Tall, dark hair, fair complexion, gray eyes — you?"
                "That's me...or was me. Danic of Drakehorn."
                Nodding, she closed her eyes and began the disturbing chant again. As far as Danica knew, all humans spoke the same language. It was given to them by the Arisen Gods after the War of the Gods.
                Suddenly, "Allaria."
                "He's going to Allaria? By horse or warhawk?"
                "He's already there," she said, staring off into space. "Magic. Very powerful."
                "May the Gods blast him!"
                It would easily take her two and a half months of very hard riding by horse to reach the distant riverside city, deep in the vast Jar Swamp. That infamous city of pirates and rogue wizards was well known to her. Even if she sold the horse she still wouldn't have enough to buy a warhawk. Other than magic, a warhawk was the only way to get down there quickly.
                She knew enough about magic to know that no Vikon would have the power to magically transport her anywhere. That would require knowledge of Sorcery. Witches only practiced Witchcraft. If Zelma knew Sorcery, fortune telling would be beneath her.
                With a worried look, "Perhaps you should forget about him, and learn to live — "
                "Damn that idea! I want vengeance, and my body and life back!" Danica cried, standing. "As long as there's life in me, I'll not give up."
                "He is powerful, very powerful. An Arch Wizard, probably. To teleport himself that far requires enormous power. Not to mention what it takes to pull off...," she just waved at Danica.
                "I have fought, and defeated, powerful wizards before," Danica said, starting to pace the small room like a caged dragon. "I'll not back down now. Too much is at stake."
                Mother Zelma chewed on her inner cheek a moment more. "Perhaps we should see what the cards say."
                Fearing what they might say, Danica paused. "I guess it wouldn't hurt." She sat down again, perched on the edge of the delicate chair, legs splayed as if she was prepared to bolt.
                Pushing a thick deck across the table, "Shuffle them."
                Danica shuffled them twice, then pushed the deck back to the witch. Taking a deep steadying breath, she fixed her eyes on the edge of the small table. She watched as Zelma started peeling off cards and laying them across the table. As the witch began laying out cards on the table, Danica became aware of swirling colors about her. Many of the brighter colors seemed to converge on the deck, intensifying just before Mother Zelma peeled off another card. It wasn't the first time Danica had seen tarot cards used, but it was the first time