Page 27 of Off with Her Head
"Turn her own weapons against her," I finish the thought, excitement building despite the gravity of our situation. "Use the crystal network to send our merged magic back to its source."
It's a brilliant strategy, one that suits our unique circumstances perfectly. Rather than merely defending against the attack, we could potentially strike at Mara herself, using her own tool as a pathway to reach her.
But there's a risk involved, one I'm not certain Scarlett has fully considered. To interface with the illness directly, to sendour magic along its pathways, means exposing ourselves to its influence, potentially accelerating the transformation already occurring between us. We would be taking one step closer to the future the mirror showed, where our identities merge so completely that one of us must ultimately sacrifice individual existence.
"It's dangerous," I caution, searching her face. "If it doesn’t work, we won’t know what’ll happen."
"All magic carries risk," she responds, her expression resolute. "And waiting for them to breach our defenses carries greater danger still."
She's right, of course. Edmund's forces will eventually break through. And once inside the castle, once threatening the Blood Tree and my mirror, they could do unimaginable damage to my kingdom.
"Very well." I turn to Lysander. "Position our shadow-warriors in a horseshoe formation around the approaching army. When I give the signal, they are to target the crystal weapons specifically—not destroying them, but disrupting their connection to the soldiers carrying them."
He bows and leaves to relay the orders, leaving me and Scarlett alone with the animated map. We watch as Edmund's forces continue their advance, the corrupted threads between them pulsing with sickly energy.
"We should position ourselves at the Blood Tree," I say, thinking through the logistics of what we're attempting. "Its power will amplify our combined magic, giving us the strength we need to reach through the crystal network."
"And if something goes wrong?" Scarlett asks, her voice quiet but steady. "If it’s more than we anticipate?"
I meet her gaze directly, not hiding the truth. "Then the transformation accelerates. We move closer to the future the mirror showed."
"Where one of us falls," she finishes, her expression troubled.
"Yes." There's no point denying it. "But we don't know which path leads to which outcome, Scarlett. Perhaps this action prevents the sacrifice the mirror showed. Perhaps it makes it inevitable. We're moving through uncharted territory."
She's silent for a moment. Then she takes my hand. "Then we make our own fate," she says firmly. "We transform on our terms, not Mara's. We choose our path, rather than letting it be chosen for us."
The conviction in her voice steadies me, reminds me that uncertainty carries opportunity as well as danger.
"Together, then," I agree, squeezing her hand.
"Together," she echoes, the word carrying the weight of promise.
We arrive at the greenhouse. The black roses with their veins of red turn toward us as we enter, responding to our magical signature. The shadow-lilies glow brighter, illuminating our path to the central tree with its crimson bark and silver-red leaves.
"How do we do this?" Scarlett asks, studying the Blood Tree.
"We connect to the Blood Tree together, as we did before," I explain, positioning us on opposite sides of the trunk. "But this time, instead of simply allowing our magics to merge through it, we deliberately direct the combined power outward, toward the crystal network. We use the connections as pathways, sending our magic along them like poison through veins. Just as Mara has done."
I place my palm against the Blood Tree's crimson bark. "Ready?"
Scarlett mirrors my position on the opposite side. "Ready."
Our magics connect through the Blood Tree, flowing together. We consciously direct it outward, toward the approaching legion.
The sensation is extraordinary—like extending ourselves beyond physical form, becoming pure magical intention flowing through the very fabric of Darkmore. Through the Blood Tree's connection to the land, I can feel every shadow-warrior positioned around the approaching army, every blood sigil activated along the castle walls, every pulse of power within the great mirror chamber. And through Scarlett, I sense things I've never been able to perceive before—the wild chaos of her magic flowing through creatures and plants, the emotional currents of those within the castle, the potential for transformation hovering like mist across the battlefield.
Our awareness reaches the front lines of Edmund's forces, where shadow-warriors have already begun their surgical strikes against the crystal-bearers. I feel Scarlett's tactical mind directing our power to support these efforts, enhancing each warrior's natural abilities, protecting them from the worst effects of corruption. It’s discipline and chaos in perfect balance.
Then we encounter the crystal network directly—a true web of power linking each soldier back to a central controlling force. It feels like oil on water. It's my sister's blood magic morphed into something it was never meant to be.
Scarlett's disgust echoes my own, our shared consciousness recoiling from the wrongness of it. But we press forward, using our magic to trace it to its source, following the filaments of control back toward Mara herself.
The crystal network resists us, fighting against our intrusion. Black veins of magical infection try to spread into our merged consciousness, seeking to taint our combined power as they'vetainted so much else. It pushes against our magical defenses, probing for weaknesses.
But there are no such weaknesses, no fracture lines to exploit. We flow together seamlessly now, neither dominant nor submissive.
Frustrated, the crystal network changes tactics. If it cannot corrupt us, it will try to overwhelm us instead. Power surges through the connections, a tidal wave of dark magic directed specifically at our consciousness. The attack is brutal,direct, designed to shatter our focus and break our connection to the Blood Tree.
