“Then pray tell, madam, exactly how did this lone buck break through your magic, wake up, and thus break your pact with the deer?” Handy asked pointedly. The spirit was very, very quiet for a moment, and he took in a celebratory breath of air as the glass ceased in its advance across his flesh. This close to his face, and now that his eyesight was used to the pale glow of her skin, he could see her eyes moving. He couldn’t make out enough detail in the white orbs to tell what she was looking at or determine emotion, but he liked to think he was beginning to sow the seeds on uncertainty. He allowed himself a small smile.  ‘Alright, Chrysalis, you say I’m like changelings? Let’s hope you’re right and I can pull this off.’