A Catastrophic Theft

by P. D. Workman

  “So to summarize, you knew that he could take your powers because he had before. You laid strictures on him as to the use of his magic, and you believed that if you stayed around other people, you would be safe from him.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “We danced. It was hot. I wanted some fresh air.”

  “Ah. So you left him and went outside…?”

  “No.” Reg felt the first warning bells, warning her things were not going to go in her direction.

  “Clarify then. You went outside…?”

  “We walked outside together. To get some fresh air. We wanted to be somewhere we could talk, and the balcony was open.”

  “So there were a number of other people on the balcony with you.”

  “No. It was just us.” Reg swallowed. “I could still see the crowds through the door. I thought… that people were still close enough that nothing could happen.”

  “I see. So you went out alone with him on the balcony, after being warned about being alone with him, when you had doubts about whether he could control himself, and when you had previously had your powers stolen by him.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “What was it like?”

  “It… I don’t know. But it wasn’t like that.”

  “It sounds to me like you made the decision to join with him of your own free will and choice. No magical influences.”

  “No.”

  “You abandoned any pretense of protecting yourself against him. You decided that you were going to give him your gifts back,” Davyn said more aggressively.

  “I did not! I would never do that. He was magicking me—”

  “So you say. But I don’t see anyone here who is going to testify otherwise.”

  “I could smell the roses,” Reg insisted. “He was definitely using his glamour to make me do what he wanted.”

  “Yes. So you say.”

  “As do I,” a new voice announced.

  ⋆ Chapter Seventeen ⋆

  E

  veryone turned to see where the voice had come from. A tall, pale man stood at the back of the room with several attendants. Seeing that he had the council’s attention, he walked regally to the front of the room.

  “Lord Bernier,” Davyn greeted in surprise. He bowed his head deferentially. He picked up his pen to make note of the fairy’s appearance. “What is your interest in this case?”

  “I was there. When the child was attacked, I was the one who stepped in to stop the warlock from feeding.”

  “What did you find? What did you see and hear?”

  “I saw the child in his arms. She was clearly ensorcelled. She didn’t know what was going on.”

  “When you say ‘the child,’ you mean Regina Rawlins?” Davyn motioned toward Reg.

  “Yes.”

  “And the warlock was Corvin Hunter?” Davyn indicated Corvin, who twirled in his chair as if he were enjoying being on display.

  “Yes.”

  “What did you see that made you think she was ensorcelled?”

  “I could smell his scent. Very strong. She was limp. Her eyes were closed. When I interrupted them, it took her a considerable length of time to wake up enough to be aware of what was going on and the danger she had been in.”

  “But you didn’t hear their conversation. You don’t know whether she yielded to him before your arrival.”

  “There is no way for me to tell you what happened before I was there,” Lord Bernier said logically. “But if she had yielded to him without magic, then there would have been no need for his charms and glamour.”

  Davyn gave a small shrug. Reg looked around, wondering if there was anyone who was going to question her from the other side. She had thought that he was supposed to be unbiased, one of the judges in the tribunal, but it seemed clear Davyn was on Corvin’s side. There didn’t seem to be anyone on Reg’s side, making accusations against Corvin, to prove that Reg had been an innocent party and that Corvin had again forced her against her will.

  “He did, however, apologize,” Lord Bernier said, looking over at Corvin. “He tried to deny that he had used his magic, and when that failed, he apologized and said he had not meant to do it and had broken his word. I assume your kind do not apologize for what they have not done.”

  “I see. That does shade things,” Davyn admitted, making another notation on his page.

  “That is not all the creature did,” Lord Bernier stated, waiting for Davyn to pick up the questioning again.

  “The creature?”

  Lord Bernier made a motion toward Corvin. “The fallen one.”

  “Corvin Hunter. What else did Mr. Hunter do?”

  “When he realized that he was not going to get the opportunity to feed, he put his hunger into her.”

  “How did he do that?”

  “Like this.”

  Davyn suddenly went rigid in his seat and grasped the table in front of him with both hands. He opened his mouth but seemed unable to get any words out. There was a rushing tide of sound as everyone in the room started to talk, wanting to know what was going on and unsure of how to react. Bernier made a small motion with his hand, apparently releasing Davyn from whatever spell had bound him.

  Davyn breathed heavily for a few minutes. He helped himself to a bottle of water. “You know that it is against our laws to force your thoughts and feelings on someone else.”

  Lord Bernier shrugged. “You asked how it is done. I showed you. Is that not what you asked?”

  “No. You could have just answered the question. No more demonstrations of any kind.”

  “Corvin Hunter put his pain into the child,” Lord Bernier reiterated. “This is against the laws of both of our peoples.”

  “Yes, it is. Did he say why he did it?”

  Reg was outraged. Davyn was clearly on Corvin’s side, now trying to find an excuse for why Corvin had done what he did.

  “He said if she felt his pain, she would give him what he wanted,” Lord Bernier answered.

  “So eventually, you… managed to break the spell?”

  “Yes. I threatened to kill him.”

  There were a couple of laughs from the audience. Reg held her head. It had been a terrible thing to live through once. Having to relive it as she testified and heard it described was bringing the slowly bubbling anger to the surface, and Reg wasn’t going to be able to hold it down much long.

  “Is there anyone else who can testify as to what happened that night?” Davyn asked.

  “My wife was there. Several of our consorts. They would all tell you exactly the same thing.”

  “No doubt,” Davyn said dryly. “But that’s it? There was no one else there? No one who could testify as to what happened before that? When Mr. Hunter and Miss Rawlins left the dance? What was said and occurred between them?”

  Lord Bernier shook his head. “They were alone when I came upon them. She is protected, so we stopped to provide assistance.”

  “She’s protected?” Davyn repeated.

  “She is protected by our kind.”

  “Fairies?”

  “It is so. She carries the blood of Calliopia, daughter of the house of Papillon.”

  There was a low murmur from the audience. Davyn wrote down a line or two and nodded. “Thank you, Lord Bernier. We appreciate you making the trip to assist this council, and the efforts that you made to ensure Miss Rawlins’ safety.”

  Lord Bernier gave a regal nod, then he and his escorts swept back out of the room.

  Reg wanted to scream. Davyn was so clearly trying to bias the tribunal against her and to show Corvin leniency. What was the point in her having attended at all? He finished writing another line and looked back at Reg, his eyes hard and challenging. But he kept a soft, reasonable voice as he spoke to her, making it sound as if he cared for her and what had happened to her.

  “You had doubts as to whether Mr. Hunter would keep his word and not glamour you.”

 
“Yes.”

  “Why is that? Did you doubt his honor?”

  “I doubted his ability to resist his hunger and do what he said he would.”

  “Really.” Davyn tapped his finger thoughtfully on the table. “How much did you know about this hunger?”

  “I’d… felt it before. Not like when he put it on me that night. I’d just… got a glimpse of it before.”

  “At the time he’d stolen your powers.”

  “No. Uh… it was after that. He allowed me into his mind and I felt his hunger then.”

  “He allowed you into his mind?” Davyn said doubtfully, and looked over at Corvin. “That’s a very personal thing.”

  “She’s new to all of this,” Corvin said, with a beneficent smile, “I’m sure she didn’t realize at the time that it was a violation. I defended myself against her once I realized what was happening and pushed her out, but… she did, as she says, get a taste of my need.”

  Davyn looked back at Reg. “And having felt the magnitude of this hunger, you did not believe that he would be able to resist using his powers on you.”

  “Yeah. Exactly.”

  “Believing he wouldn’t be able to resist, you walked with him out onto the balcony, where there was not anyone to protect you.”

  Reg saw the trap he’d laid for her. A hot flush rolled over her face. “Why are you blaming me?” she demanded. “I’m the victim here! I told him I did not yield my powers to him even if he managed to make me say yes with his magic. I told him no over and over again, and he still glamoured me!”

  “Miss Rawlins, this issue of consent seems to be one that you hold some very strong opinions about.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “This idea that you can preempt your own consent is not something that has been tested in our community before. We do have rules, as you know, that a warlock of Mr. Hunter’s persuasion cannot take your powers without your permission.”

  “That’s what you say. But I haven’t really given my permission if I didn’t know what I was agreeing to or my judgment has been clouded by his magic.”

  “That might be seen to be… reaching.”

  Reg shook her head in disbelief. “That first time, when he stole my powers, I had no idea what I was consenting to. I thought…” Reg knew that her face was turning a brilliant shade of red, but there was no reason she should be embarrassed. She had been taken advantage of and she wanted to help to prevent others from being taken advantage of in the future. Corvin was the one who should have been ashamed of his behavior, not Reg. “I thought I was just consenting to… physical intimacy. I didn’t have a clue he could take my powers.”

  “But that is how it is done. Through physical contact. You give up your gifts in exchange for physical pleasure. Which, I might point out, you ended up getting for free.”

  “I didn’t know, though. I didn’t know what he could do.”

  Davyn waved this aside. “That is beside the point. We are not here to discuss what happened on that occasion. There was no complaint filed and you admit that you did give consent. Not only that, but you got back your powers. One might even suggest that you still owe him the fulfillment of that contract.”

  Reg could see Corvin smirking. He had, in fact, tried advancing that argument before. “What is wrong with you people?” she demanded. “I don’t owe him anything! You might have some fun pretending you’re living in the twelfth century with your quill pen and bird messages and living without electricity, but this is the twenty-first century!”

  “And what does that have to do with this case?”

  “This whole issue of consent! I told Corvin and I’m telling you, if you have to magic someone to get consent, it’s not consent! No more than it would be if you roofied them!”

  There was silence in the room. A few seconds ticked by. “Roofied…?” Davyn repeated uncertainly.

  “Oh, good grief, this is exactly what I’m talking about. Twenty-first century. Get with it. You should know what’s going on in the world around you! Drugged. If you drug someone to get them to do what you want, they can’t give consent. It doesn’t matter what they say. If they’re too drunk or stoned to know what’s going on, you back off.”

  This seemed to be a totally new idea for Davyn. He sat there, thinking about it, tapping his finger on the table. The warlocks in the seats behind him whispered to each other. Letticia was sitting with the tips of her fingers pressed together, staring at Davyn. She seemed to sense Reg’s gaze and shifted to look at her. She gave a slight nod. At least there was one person on Reg’s side.

  “This isn’t something I’m just making up,” Reg told Davyn. “It’s been upheld by the courts. Someone who is under the influence can’t give consent, and I say that includes magical influence.”

  “That has not been tested in our community.”

  “Then the idea that he has to get consent is all just a sham. You don’t require him to get consent. He can use his magic to do whatever he wants. There are no limits.”

  Davyn scowled. “There most certainly are. Cases like this are rare and difficult to try. Setting aside the issue of whether he could use magic to get consent, it would seem that you had full knowledge of what he was, what he could do, and how to protect yourself, but you chose not to.”

  Reg tried to formulate an answer, but couldn’t think of what to say. He clearly expected the tribunal to vote Corvin’s way. She had been roped into appearing and telling her story, only to be told that she was the cause of her own troubles.

  “If I could speak now?” Corvin suggested. “It sounds like we’re getting down to the nuts and bolts of it now…”

  “Are there any other witnesses?” Davyn asked, looking around.

  “Sarah Bishop was going to testify,” Letticia said. “However, she has fallen ill and was not able to attend.”

  Corvin smirked. Reg felt a chill. Surely he wouldn’t have stolen Sarah’s necklace just to keep her from testifying at his tribunal? After all, what could Sarah say that hadn’t already been discussed? She was a second witness to the conversation Reg and Corvin had before going out on the dance floor, but she wouldn’t have had anything to add.

  Davyn nodded. “Alright. Mr. Hunter, then. You have the right to defend your actions.”

  Reg got up from her chair and returned to her seat with the audience. It was obvious by the way that everyone looked at her that she was expected to stay in the assigned seat, but she had no desire to remain on display to everyone as Corvin told his side of the story and vilified her. Corvin watched her sit down and waited for a moment, letting the tension build, before he spoke.

  “I have apologized to Ms. Rawlins repeatedly for any action she saw as inappropriate on my behalf,” he said smoothly. Which was true, but he made it sound like he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, and that hadn’t been his tone when he’d begged for her forgiveness. “I deeply regret any distress I might have unintentionally caused her.”

  Reg made a noise of disbelief. It carried through the quiet room, as she had fully intended it to.

  “I know what it is to have your powers stripped from you.” Corvin’s voice was quiet so that everyone in the room had to strain to hear it. Reg didn’t believe he had any idea what it was like. “That doesn’t excuse any wrongdoing on my part, of course, but I would like to share my experience.”

  He stood up and walked across the room, shaking out his arms and legs like he’d been folded into the chair for too long. He frowned and paced, struggling with where to begin.

  “As most of you know, this… condition that I suffer from is one that is inherited, usually passed from father to son. My father also suffered from it. You might think that made it easier for me, because I had someone else who could understand what I was going through. But my father was not a compassionate man.”

  Corvin linked his hands behind his back as he paced, looking like a university professor mid-lecture.

  “My father did not ask for permission before draini
ng my powers.”

  There were gasps and whispers through the crowds. Reg studied their wide, surprised eyes. This was clearly not the usual order of things.

  “On more than one occasion, coming home angry and hungered after a fruitless day trying to provide for himself and his family, he would set upon me. It was terrifying. Having my own father assault me and take what was not rightfully his…” Corvin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  Reg remembered the vision she’d had of him, the hunger eating away at him, writhing on the floor and crying to his mother to provide for him. And instead, his mother had allowed his father to abuse him and take away what powers he had.

  “Most people can only ever have their powers taken once,” Corvin said, his voice rough. “Once, and they are gone, and they learn to live without them. But for someone like me, with the ability to build up my powers again… it meant I was repeatedly drained by him. It didn’t happen just once, but over and over again. Just as I refilled my powers, he would again take them away.”

  Reg could imagine his desperation. The starving boy who had the food snatched from his hands over and over again. She had felt his pain for only a few minutes, and it had been devastating. She had been physically ill and exhausted. Corvin must have been incredibly strong to be able to survive the constant hunger and repeated assaults from his father.

  “There are few people here who know what it is that I suffer,” Corvin said, looking around. “And yet, you think yourself entitled to judge me.”

  “No need for grandstanding,” Davyn said, bringing him back down to earth. “There are not enough of your kind around to demand a jury of your peers. You’re better off appealing to our better natures than trying to make us feel guilty. We are not likely to feel bad that your kind are dying out, after a story like that.”

  “Those of you who know me know that I have done the best I could to fill my needs without causing undue harm or distress. I regret my haste with regard to Miss Rawlins. But for this council to judge me by the standards of those who do are not afflicted with this condition…”