Lady of the Wood

IX. Genevieve

Father's voice came booming from nowhere in particular, and everywhere around me. "You disgusting little wretch! Do you have any idea how much you've humiliated me! You and your little games, always getting into trouble and ruining a perfectly good evening!"

I tried to respond, but nothing came out of my mouth when I opened it. I'd tried to bury this memory again and again, but I never could. This was some twisted version of the first time that Father had really beaten me badly. He'd had a noblewoman on his arm all evening, and I hadn't liked her from the first moment I saw her. I had simply refused to answer her questions about my mother, which shouldn't have been an issue. I'd barely known her, so how was I to answer questions about her? Father had been outraged, and when the noblewoman left, he'd beat me within an inch of my life.

I fell back to my knees, crying, screaming, trying to cover my ears. I sat there, in the middle of the Great Hall floor, in a heap for several more minutes.

Corran appeared by the window in front of me. "You poor, poor, little thing. Look at you, fragile as a flower, crying in a heap on the floor of the room where your father now lies, cold, still, and very much dead." He laughed, and it echoed around the room in a haunting, terrifying manner. "I warned you, child. I told you surrender was the best option, but you just had to go and take up arms against me, didn't you?"

I shook my head, trying to break the hold he had on my mind. I screamed. Corran laughed. "Don't fight it, it's pointless."

"Nooo!" A voice outside of the vision yelled in a guttural roar. I suddenly felt as if I were being pulled between the two realities, one of manipulated terror, the other of calm reasoning. My brain felt like it was being ripped apart, each individual nerve pulling in a different direction.

Something pulled me back into the vision sharply, gruffly.

"Just give in, Genevieve. I'll spare them all if you would only just surrender!" Corran's voice echoed across the Great Hall. "Just hand over the circlet." He stretched out his hand.

I pressed my hand against the gemstone. For half a second I almost took it off, but I was suddenly jerked back into a tug-of-war between realities again. As they battled for control of my mind, I let out a guttural scream that grew and grew until my throat was hoarse.

I pulled my hands away from my forehead, and I fell into a heap on the forest floor. My shoulders slumped over, and I started to fall over. I felt a pair of arms catch me and lay my head on their lap. I looked up through patchy vision to see it was Henry. My vision was quickly fading to black. The darkness was comforting this time, not at all threatening or dangerous the way it had been moments ago. It was like a gentle caress on my distressed nerves, and I leaned into it wholeheartedly.

The last thing I heard before everything went dark was Henry's voice softly pleading, "Please, no, no, no. Stay with me, Genevieve! Keep fighting! I've got you! You're okay! No, no, no, no, no..."

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"Bydd hi fel oen: merch Pren, Arglwyddes y Pren, Rhyfelwr y Frenhines..." I woke up to hear Henry's voice singing the opening lines of the prophecy in the Old Language. "Cudd o Evalor tan ei phen-blwydd yn ddeunaw oed." His fingers brushed the line of my scar on my cheek.

I opened my eyes and took a deep breath before trying to sit up. "What just happened?" I asked, confused. Henry helped me into a sitting position next to him from where I had been laying with my head on his lap.

He reached to brush my hair away from my face and answered, "We were just coming back from scouting and you collapsed. It was like something was trying to separate your soul from your body and somehow torture you. I've never seen anything like it." He shook his head. "Then you started mumbling something about your father, something about a trade. You said something about giving yourself up, a sacrifice or something. That was when I knew something was terribly wrong. Do you remember anything?"

I rubbed my forehead, moving the circlet on my brow as I did so. "I remember collapsing, but whatever happened after that I can't figure out. It was like I was back at Morwyn y Pren, but it wasn't the same. I remember hearing my father's voice, and feeling like I always did when he felt I had done or said something wrong: small, terrified, aching, and bruised." My voice felt foreign in my own mouth. It echoed in my mind like I had shouted across a ravine. "And then I remember hearing Corran's voice." I paused, "That was the really terrifying part."

"Corran, that snake! I should have known he'd have something to do with this." Henry clenched his jaw and brushed his fingers over my hand absentmindedly. "Can you recall any of what he said?"

"He said something about a trade, that if I surrendered myself, he would spare all of you. I can't remember much else of what he said, but Henry it was so tempting."

"Hmm, that's not good." Henry looked more worried than I'd ever seen him. "How did he get past the wards on your circlet?"

"I don't know." I pulled my knees to my chest and tucked my chin over them.

A magician never reveals his secrets, darling. Corran's voice echoed in my head. I gasped.

"What? What is it, Genevieve?" Henry asked suddenly.

"My offer still stands, m'lady. But it won't be on the table forever. You have until sundown tonight to make your decision. I'll be eagerly awaiting your decision." Corran's voice was gone as quickly as it had come.

"Did you hear that?" I sat bolt-upright.

"Hear what, Genevieve?" Henry gazed at me quizzically. "What did you hear?"

"Corran! He said I have until sunset tomorrow to consider his offer." I fidgeted with my archer's glove nervously. What a mess I've gotten us into, I thought.