Page 13 of Off with Her Head
"Isaid, your name." I stand, descending the steps of my throne to circle him slowly. "Unless you prefer 'prisoner' for the remainder of your exceptionally short life."
Still nothing. Not so much as a flinch at my implicit threat.
Ravenna moves closer, those blue eyes narrowed in concentration. "Something's wrong with him," she murmurs. "Look at his eyes."
I bend down, forcing his chin up with one hand. His eyesare... wrong. The irises are clouded, the pupils unnaturally dilated. But worst of all is the absolute emptiness behind them. No fear, no defiance, no recognition that he's being addressed at all.
"He's been ensorcelled," Ravenna says, crouching beside us. She traces a finger along the side of his face, and I see blood magic shimmer beneath her skin. "But it's not like any mind control I've encountered before."
"Can you break it?" I ask.
She hesitates, studying the man's vacant expression. "I can try. But it may damage his mind permanently. Whatever this spell is, it's integrated with his consciousness, not simply layered over it."
"Do it," I command. "We need information more than we need to protect an enemy soldier."
Ravenna nods in agreement, pressing her palm against the man's forehead. Magic flows from her hand, making dark veins spread across his skin. He doesn't react, doesn't even blink as her power seeps into him.
For several long moments, nothing happens. Then, suddenly, the man's body goes rigid. His back arches, his mouth opens ina silent scream, and his eyes—those empty, clouded eyes—begin to glow with an unnatural black light.
"Something's fighting back," Ravenna says through gritted teeth. Sweat beads on her forehead as she pushes more magic into the connection. "It's not just mind control. It's... corruption. Like the sigil you found on the charred card."
Around us, the air grows heavy, charged with conflicting magical energies. The roses decorating my throne room begin to wilt, their petals blackening at the edges. The marble floor beneath the prisoner cracks, thin lines spreading outward like a spiderweb.
"Ravenna," I say, alarmed by the physical effects of magical backlash. "Ravenna,stop."
But she's too deep in the working, her focus absolute as she battles whatever force has taken root in the prisoner's mind. Magic crackles around her like sparks, and for the first time, I see the true extent of her power. This isn’t controlled. This is something primal, dangerous, a force of nature barely contained within human form.
The prisoner begins to seize, foam forming at the corners of his mouth. Black veins continue to spread across his skin. But where hers glow, his appears sickly.
"Enough!" I grab her shoulder, channeling my own magic into the touch. Heart magic, wild and chaotic, floods through our connection, disrupting the flow of blood magic. The shock of it breaks her concentration, severing the link between her and the prisoner.
Ravenna gasps, falling back onto the marble floor. The prisoner collapses at the same moment, his body going limp as a puppet with cut strings. For a terrifying second, I think they're both dead.
Then Ravenna coughs, pushing herself up on shaking arms. The prisoner remains still, but I can see the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
Alive.
"What happened?" I demand, helping Ravenna to her feet. Her skin is clammy beneath my touch, her eyes unfocused. There’s an instant buzz between us as we touch, but I push down the feeling. "What did you see?"
"Darkness," she whispers. "His very essence has been twisted into something it was never meant to be." She shudders, leaning heavily against me. "I saw Mara. She was performing some kind of ritual with those crystal devices, but they weren't just draining magic. They were converting it. Transforming it into something else."
"Transforming it how?" I signal for my card-soldiers to remove the unconscious prisoner. He's useless to us now, but perhaps the royal physicians can stabilize him enough for another attempt at questioning later.
"I'm not sure." Ravenna watches as the soldiers carry the man away. "But whatever she's doing, it's unnatural. Magic has rules,limitations. This... this felt like a violation of the laws of magic."
I lead her to a chair, concerned by the tremor in her hands. She pushed herself to her limits.
"You need rest," I tell her, gesturing for a servant to bring water. "That kind of magical expenditure—"
"There's no time for rest." She accepts the water but doesn't drink it, rolling the crystal goblet between her palms instead. "Mara is doing something that threatens both our kingdoms. We need to understand what it is before she advances to the next stage."
"And we will." I find myself placing a hand on her shoulder, offering comfort as I try my best to ignore the hum between us. "But not at the cost of your collapse from magical exhaustion."
She looks up at me, those blue eyes sharp despite her evident fatigue. "Since when does the Queen of Hearts concern herself with another's well being?"
"Since that other became an ally worth preserving." The admission comes more easily than I expected. "You fought for my subjects today. You risked your mind trying to extract information from our prisoner. These are not the actions of someone I can afford to lose to overexertion."
A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "How pragmatic."
