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

must stay in Elfhaven?"
                The scene immediately changed to an alley in Elfhaven. Danica was tied — no, nailed with daggers through her wrists and ankles! — to the side of a barn. Angry men and women surrounded her in the dim torchlight. A woman she recognized as the Amazon slaver was just pulling a bloody dagger from the ruin that had been her face. Danica jerked her hands away in horror.
                "I can't stay either," she whispered, hugging herself.
                "I agree. How about going north? To Samulla?"
                "Yes, I could go there for a while before returning to the Jarlands." Warily, she reached out for the mirror. "Go to Samulla?"
                The whirlpool quickly condensed into a scene of Danica being held down by a group of nomad men and being stripped. Then it changed to scene of her in steppe nomad clothes, heavy with child and several small children running about her. Then it changed once again to show her dressed in a filmy veil, and nothing else but strands of pearls draped over her well-oiled body as she danced slowly, seductively, through what looked to be a brothel or tavern in some unnamed desert city, filled with lusty men reaching for her.
                Jerking her hand away again, "Are they all my fates? Or did it show me three possible fates?"
                "I don't know. It may depend on how you decide to go to Samulla," Zelma said. "Or you may be captured and raped, then later taken into the clan as a wife only to be captured by their enemies and sold into slavery in one of the desert cities."
                "The cards were right," Danica said, feeling her strength draining away. "No matter what I do, I'm doomed. My only choice seems to be between slavery and gruesome death."
                When Mother Zelma failed to respond, Danica noticed she was deep in troubled thought. She knew the witch was trying to work something out, so she let her be.
                Finally, "Even if you can escape those fates, you can't hope to sneak up on Talar, not in that body. He'll probably be able to detect it easily." She hesitated, as if torn between conflicting emotions. "But there is a way."
                "It is?"
                "It's dangerous," she warned. "You could lose more than just a body, or your life. You could lose your soul."
                A chill ran up Danica’s back. "It's a chance I'll have to take. Tell me."
                Again...the hesitation.
                "In the city of Ismat al-Haratha there is an object of great power," she said slowly. "It is in the Temple of Maag."
                "A talisman?"
                "Yes. It is a gift from the Goddess of Magic. If you are caught trying to steal it..." she paused, "...the priests will feed your soul to it."
                Damnation?
                The alternative was slavery or death.
                Danica hated magic. She considered it almost cowardly to fight with magic. Warriors should settle their disputes with bared steel. Toe to toe. All this magic made her skin crawl. But, if she wanted her body back then she might have to use magic.
                "And just what will this talisman do for me?"
                "It will make you a powerful sorceress, too."
                Great , she thought, scowling. It'll probably damn my soul forever. Would Bandu turn me away for this use of magic?
                What the God of War would do to her immortal soul was something to worry about later. Danica just wanted her body back.
                "Talar's equal?"
                Zelma didn't answer right away.
                "Perhaps...but he probably won't be able to detect your approach behind its magic, and you might be able to take him by surprise," she said, doubt written