That is in fact a completely terrifying set of answers. But she's never really seen the point of being terrified, it's not like it helps.
She still doesn't know enough to steer this conversation the right way, but who else would do a better job? She can imagine what the Council would say, and then the world would end.
Her turn!
"Power? It doesn't take a lot of power. You only have to make one little joke to a king the wrong way, and you lose your head, or start a whole war. Outside our lands, anyway. Magic works the same way. Did you know, there's a First-Circle Spell that can probably kill most of a country under exactly the right conditions? I might tell you about it if the two of us get along well enough."
She turns and kicks her feet up on the couch.
"Anyway, we burnt every copy that we know of in holy fire. Your world is only ten years old. Someone could discover that Spell tomorrow. Unless you're sure you designed your magic so well a thousand people cleverer than you could never find a flaw? We're already trying to reach your plane and warn them, of course, but we might well be too late by the time we do."
How is she reacting to all this, exactly?
"Heroes putting down Dark Lords works most of the time. What happens when once every few hundred years you get someone like Acererak or Lum or gods help you the Nameless Queen, and the world's heroes die in agony before they ever get to meet in a tavern?"
(The translation Spell is having to reach pretty far to do something with this reference to the Tragedy of Baron Lum, a play reconstructed, in the time of the Old Kingdom, from papyrus fragments found under a sheet of glass in the Kharidian Desert several dozen miles wide, and recently rediscovered.)
"That's not even the whole problem. Evil doesn't always start from Evil. We obviously don't know exactly how ancient kingdoms fell, but - the Doom of Adaveiga, the old books say, started as some kind of national defence programme. They got the magic slightly wrong, we think, and I'd invite you to write that on ten million tombstones if there were anything left to bury. There's really not much left even in the darkest dungeons, which is saying something."
Old High Draconic does have a word for "cognitohazard", which is concerning once you think about it. Dragons aren't very perturbable creatures.
"And unfortunately here there are some things more resistant to - cognitohazards - than, for example, most peasants. Even normal Spells would drive most people mad to comprehend. And wizards are allowed to use those!"
(She winks at Naevys, who is sitting very still and trying not to breathe and hoping everyone's forgotten she's there.)
"So maybe your magic is safe where ours isn't. Maybe it's even safe in combination with ours. Maybe both worlds will be just fine. Or maybe you're as clever as you look and you're worried too."