Her thoughts threatened to embrace being a tree, to turn towards the sun and fade into nothingness. She threw her mind forward, along the threadlines, desperately trying to get into Cornelia’s head. A normal compulsion spell would be worse than useless, she was sure, but she might just be able to influence the witch. Perhaps… the world expanded around her, thoughts and feelings crashing through her mind. The garden was an entity in its own right, great slow thoughts pulsing through a mind that was very far from human. She reached out to Cornelia and…
“Do you think you can look into my mind?” Emily wasn’t sure if Cornelia was speaking or thinking the words. “Do you want to see what I am?”
Emily’s mind rocketed forward. She found herself sitting — no, kneeling — in front of a sneering man. He looked down at her, his eyes mocking her as he buckled his pants… Emily flushed, helplessly, as she realised what she’d been doing. She was a virgin. She’d kissed Jade and… that was it. But she felt, now, as though she’d had the man’s member in her mouth. She shuddered, retching. She didn’t know what anyone got out of that.
“Teach you?” Emily could hear the sneer in the man’s voice. “Teach magic to a worthless succubus such as yourself?
“But you promised,” Emily said. Or Cornelia said. Their thoughts were one. “You said…”
“I’ll show you what she did to me,” the man said. Their eyes met. “Look!”
The memories surged, again. A young man, meeting a girl. The girl, making a fool of him. The man’s tutors, dismissing him for his foolishness. The man — older and steeped in bitterness — lashing out at every woman he saw, using magic to harass and humiliate and break them, when they came to him for lessons. Emily shuddered as she saw the man use his powers to flip up dresses, or compel girls to service him, or even leave them with compulsions and curses that would haunt them for the rest of their lives, all in the name of avenging himself on a girl who’d used, abused and, eventually, left him holding the bag.
“I went to him,” Cornelia snarled. “I had magic. I needed the lessons. I was prepared to do anything, if he taught me magic. And I did and he abandoned me and…”
“He turned you into a dark reflection of himself,” Emily said. “He hates women and tries to avenge himself on them. You do the same, except you lash out at men instead.”
“They had no right to spy on me,” Cornelia snapped. “And yet they did it!”
“Yes, they did,” Emily said. Their minds were too close for either of them to lie to the other. “They deserved punishment. But tell me, did you not take pleasure in meting it out?”
Cornelia said nothing. But the answer hung between them.
“You did,” Emily said. “You’re just like him.”
“Maybe,” Cornelia said. “But why are you trying to stop me?”
Emily took a breath, feeling for her conviction… and, deep inside, hard-won maturity. She wanted — she needed — Cornelia to understand Emily meant every word. And…
“Because it’s wrong,” Emily said. “He was abused by a woman. I can see his point. I can understand his feelings. But that doesn’t mean he was right. The women he abused had nothing to do with the woman who set him up to fall. He was right to feel slighted and unjustly treated, but wrong to take it out on you.
“You are just the same. You were mistreated” — she tried not to shudder at the memories, so close to her mind it was hard to believe they weren’t hers — “and you have a right to be angry at him. But you are wrong to take it out on every man who crosses your path.”
Cornelia said nothing for a long moment. “Are you so sure of yourself?”
“Yes.” Emily willed Cornelia to see the truth in her words. “A cycle of revenge will never end. It’ll just go on, with more and more atrocities until everyone forgets the original acts and can no longer make it stop. You can step off it now, if you wish. Or you can keep going, acting just like the man who made you this way!”
There was a chilling pause. Emily braced herself. She could understand resentment and bitterness and how the crimes of the father could be revenged upon the son, but that didn’t make it right. You could acknowledge someone’s feelings were valid without condoning what they did in revenge. You could! Emily understood exactly how Professor Snape had felt, when he’d laid eyes on Harry Potter, but that didn’t mean the professor hadn’t been out of line. His conduct had been inexcusable.
“You’re a very wise girl,” Cornelia said, coolly. “And…”
The world turned green, then blue. Emily found herself lying on her back, staring up at the bright blue sky. Cornelia knelt beside her, a small vial in her hand. Emily felt a twinge of something she couldn’t quite identify, a strange mixture of understanding and yet caution, as she checked her body. It was back to normal. She forced herself to sit up and stand. Cornelia stood too.
“Here.” Cornelia held out the vial. A droplet of blood rested within the glass. “If you use this, you should be able to restore the boy.”
“Thank you,” Emily said. “I’ll tell them never to return, too.”
“If they haven’t already gotten the message,” Cornelia said, dryly. She leaned forward and met Emily’s eyes. “If any of the girls want to come and learn, they will be welcome. But not the boys.”
Emily nodded. Cornelia had every reason to be wary of men.
“And I saw something in your memories,” Cornelia added. “You were manipulated. Needlessly, but still manipulated.”
Emily scowled, wondering how much Cornelia had seen within her memories. Earth? Her mother and stepfather and all the wonders and horrors of a technological world? Had she realised where Emily really came from? Or had she dismissed the memories as nothing more than fantasy? If someone had told Emily dragons existed, a year ago, she would have laughed at them. It wasn’t so easy now.
“Yeah,” she said, slowly. “I know.”
“I hope I don’t see you again,” Cornelia said. “But if I do…”
Emily nodded and made her farewells, then headed back down the trail and out of the garden. Cornelia needed time to think and reflect on herself and her behaviour and… Emily made a mental note to keep an eye on the village, from time to time. Cornelia was powerful enough to be a real threat, even if she had no interest in imposing her will on the world. Perhaps leaving her alone was a mistake…
She’ll have to come to terms with what she did, Emily reflected. And the bastard who tricked her is still out there. Somewhere.
The thought lingered as she reached the bottom of the track and returned to the village inn. Rufus was standing outside, pacing back and forth; Randor, the donkey, was munching grass as if he was born to it. Rufus’s eyes went wide when he saw her. Emily took the vial from her pocket, channelled the magic through the blood and cast the reversal spell. Randor’s form twisted in a manner that made her head hurt, when she looked too closely, and snapped back into human form. Emily breathed a sigh of relief, then vaporised the remnants of the blood. Cornelia wouldn’t be happy if Emily kept it.
“Go find your mother and give her a hug,” Emily told the restored boy. “And, both of you, stay away from the witch.”
The boys nodded and hurried off. Emily took a breath and stepped into the inn. Sir Blackley was sitting at the bar, the innkeeper’s daughter on his knee and his hand… the girl squeaked as Emily entered, then hastily slipped off the older man’s lap, fixed her dress and ran for the backroom. Emily met his eyes. The flash of surprise, not hidden quickly enough, confirmed Cornelia’s words.