Page 33 of Moist!

chapter four

NEFKENIR

This human must be playing at something.

In the entire five hundred years I’ve been stuck in this lake, not a single monster has ever offered me dinner.

It’s been so long since I ate anything but fish that I don’t even remember what other food was like.

Not that I haven’t spent hours mulling over the concept of grilled peaches and sweet clotted cream.

But honestly? After all this time I’d actually forgotten their taste.

It’s just the idea of them being lost to me that makes me contemplative.

But now this dark-haired woman with plump lips and an upturned nose sits on a rock with something called an egg roll in her hand.

Part of me wonders if she’s some sort of test, or maybe even some kind of assassin. But famous as I am for being stuck in the lake, there’s no one left alive who’d care to find me. They would have, if they wanted to, sometime during these long centuries of solitude.

Reaching forward, I carefully grasp the egg roll from her hand, marveling at its rough, warm texture.

Hot food.

Before I can help myself, I lift it to my nose and flare my nostrils.

As a dark elf, I always had a good sense of smell.

But in this mishmash form, it’s ten times stronger.

I pick out the scents of pork, cabbage, something like flour and egg, carrot, caramelized onion.

I bring the egg roll to my mouth and take a big bite, moaning as I catalog the accuracy of my flavor guesses.

Settling back onto a thick length of my tail, I shove the rest of the morsel into my mouth and chew, staring at the girl.

She’s pretty at first glance, but upon further inspection there’s a distinct air of mischief about her.

Her snub nose is upturned at the tip. Gray light dances in near-black irises.

Her long black hair nearly matches mine save for a blue hint to it that can only have come from dye.

I narrow my eyes again, trying to sort her out. The tips of her mouth are curled into a smile, and I’m starting to wonder if I should have eaten that food.

“What are you?” I straighten, making sure she’s aware just how much bigger I am than her. She’s tiny in comparison to me, and as I rise taller, her eyes grow big as saucers.

“I’m a black witch,” she says softly, “a healer. I work part time at a small clinic in town and part time at a book store, although of course, you’ve never seen those. Well.” She halts and glances at me. “I assume you never saw anything of downtown before this.” She waves at the lake behind me.

I roll my shoulders, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. “No. The lake was here first. Monsters who’ve visited over the years tell me Selah founded this haven after trapping me here, so I’ve never seen downtown.”

She gestures toward a brown paper bag by her canvas-shoe clad feet. “I’ve got egg rolls but also egg drop soup and kung pao beef. Would you like to try anything else?”

I reach for the bag and lift it to my nose. A delicious mix of scents have my stomach grumbling, and I look at her over the bag’s edge. “Why are you doing this? Your real motivation, I mean.”

It’s her turn to shrug. She leans back on the rock and stares out over the lake. After a moment of silence where it seems she won’t answer, she looks back at me.

“I’ve lived in this haven for about ten years, and I’m lonely.

I have acquaintances, but I haven’t made friends.

I don’t…fit in. And for that entire time, I’ve watched you.

I’ve read the articles and seen the news stories, and I suppose, if I’m being brutally honest, I see a bit of myself in you.

” Her dark eyes flash. “If this is the moment where you tell me you’re not lonely at all and you find this entire exchange weird, I might sink into the ground and die. ”

That pulls a laugh from my guts. The sound is hoarse and disused. When was the last time I laughed? I can’t even recall it.

“Lonely? I have a lot of company.” I jerk my head toward the woods. “If you’ve been here, you see them. All the women, and a few men, who visit, hoping they’ll be my Selah.”

Her expression becomes carefully neutral. “Do you hope they’re your Selah as well?”

There’s something mournful in her tone, something that makes me truly consider the question. My thoughts on the matter seem to mix up in my brain until they turn into a seething, writhing mass of confusion. I can’t even begin to put into words what I want anymore.

Shifting off my tubular body, I crawl to the lake’s edge until my fingers touch the water. It’s cool wetness soothes me like a child’s blanket would. Slipping beneath the waves, I spin and face her with just my head sticking out of the water.

“Good night, Lyra the black witch. Thank you for telling me your truth, and thank you for the egg roll.”

She purses her lips and nods. If she’s surprised at my exit, she doesn’t show it. “You’re welcome, Nefkenir.”

That’s all she says, and the way my name rolls off her tongue is different than my other visitors. It’s respectful, almost kind. Not demanding, not assumptive.

I don’t know what to make of that, either, so I flip into the depths and hurtle back toward the relative safety of my shipwreck. Ensconcing myself in a dark corner of the captain’s nook, I examine my long black nails as I consider the strange woman who visited me tonight.

For the first time in a long time, a little flicker of hope sparks in my chest. This woman is different and new. Maybe it means something. Maybe it doesn’t. I’ll let that hope turn into something if she ever comes back.

Given the fact that nobody ever has, I’m not going to hold my breath.