Journey of a Girl

A Proper Education: Chapter Twenty-Eight

"It changes nothing," Credence countered quickly, afraid the imposter would alert the towns of a witch's presence.

"Oh, but it does. Of course! Why didn't I see it? From the woods...the effects of the sap were not as potent...you, my dear, are no longer a prisoner. Now, you are a guest."

"You'll release me?"

"Not just yet—but I'm certainly inclined to."

He pulled his chair close to her, his eyes sparkling with wicked intent, his grin unmovable from his lips.

"Answer me honestly: Was your mother a witch?"

Credence swallowed. "Yes."

"And does her magic flow through you?"

"It does."

"Did she...did she ever teach you how to use it?"

Credence hesitated, not sure she wanted the creature to know the extent of her power—but not convinced it couldn't save her, either.

"What would it mean if I could use magic?"

"Only your life. Maybe your freedom."

He turned to look at the young faces staring at them.

"They hate you, you know," he said bitterly. "They hate what you can control, what you can wield. They would rather see you dead than have any sliver of power over them. Did they kill your mother? It doesn't matter, they would have. Would have sent her to the Chopper and celebrated her end, thinking they were doing the world a favor by eliminating someone different. They'll do the same to you if given the chance."

He turned back to Credence, and his smile had been replaced with a frown and a worried brow.

"What good do any of these people bring to those like us? Would it not be better to rid the world of them?" He searched her eyes for the smallest agreement. "We could take the towns together and cleanse it of these violent things, these humans. We could build a forest from the ashes, a glorious new home. Take this foulness and turn it into something useful—something good. The Queen of the Wood—"

"How do you know that name?"

He raised an eyebrow, and his frown turned upwards.

"All of our kind know her, Credence."

"Our kind?"

"We who come from the woods, who know magic. And every last one of us would move mountains and burn worlds to gain the Queen's gratitude."

"Gratitude?"

"She hates humans most of all for what they've done. What they've become. And who could blame her? You've seen it. You cannot deny what wretched beasts they are. Not a drop of mercy or innocence in any of them."

His fingers traced over the bindings around her wrists.

"Help me, Credence. Help me rid paradise of these vermin, and together we can walk into the woods. Free." His fingers touched her hand. "The Queen will be most generous, I think, to the pair who defeated her greatest enemy."

Credence bristled.

"I...I..."

The change in his tone had been so abrupt, so surprising. Humans were the greatest enemy to the Queen? She couldn't believe it.

And the Queen was no longer the ruler of the woods. The imposter must not have known that a new monarch had taken her throne, and he was far less likely to welcome anyone with benevolence or gratitude.