Page 39 of Off with Her Head
"So many questions," Mara purrs. "Ravenna will come for you. And when she does, I'll have you both, and together we'll complete the unification."
"You couldn’t muster the strength to take your own sister?" I mock, pulling against my chains despite knowing it's futile. "Perhaps you’re weaker than I thought. No wonder Ravenna has been queen all these years."
"I'm counting on her strength," Mara counters, a sudden craze in her dark eyes. "The stronger her magic, the more powerful our unified form will be once I've absorbed you both."
I keep my expression neutral, not wanting to reveal the sickening feeling her words evoke.
Absorption.
Consumption.
"We will never willingly cooperate," I spit, stalling for time while I test my bonds more subtly.
"You've already seen the alternative." Mara gestures, and the corrupted Jack of Hearts steps forward, his paper form creaking unnaturally. "Corruption finds a way, with or without your cooperation. But willing participation makes the transition less painful foreveryoneinvolved." She approaches me directly, radiating a chill that makes the air around her freeze. "This is your opportunity to accept the inevitable. To prepare yourself." Her black eyes study me with calculated interest. "You've already begun merging with my sister. You've experienced the power of unified magic. What I offer is simply the completion of that process."
"What you offer is obliteration," I snap. "Ravenna and I maintain our identities while sharing power. We both know you’ll be the only survivor."
Mara shrugs, the shards of her shoulders catching the dim light. "A matter of perspective. I prefer to think of it as transcendence." She turns to leave, my card-soldier following obediently. "Rest, Scarlett.Conserveyour strength. You'll need it for what comes next."
“It’sQueenScarlett,” I shout, correcting her before she’s out of sight. Only Ravenna calls me Scarlett.
The door clangs shut, leaving me alone in the semi-darkness. The moment they're gone, I resume testing my bonds with greater urgency. The enchanted chains were designed by myown royal artificers, specifically crafted to suppress heart magic. They’re inescapable.
But my magic is no longer purely heart-based. If there’s any part of my bond to Ravenna left unsevered... I focus on drawing my magic to the surface, sorting through it thread by thread, searching for even one drop of Ravenna’s blood magic.
The chains resist, their enchantment recognizing and suppressing the heart magic components of my power. But they weren't designed to contain blood magic. I concentrate, drawing on memories of watching Ravenna work her spells—the precision, the sacrifice, the controlled intent.
Blood magic requires sacrifice. I lack a ritual knife, but the rough edge of the stone bench can open the abrasions on my wrists where the chains have rubbed. I press against these wounds deliberately, opening them, offering blood as the price for power.
Pain flares, and with it comes a surge of magic—not the chaos of my magic, but the structure of Ravenna’s.
The chains begin to vibrate, their enchantment struggling against power they weren't designed to contain. I pour more into the effort, focusing on the blood magic.
Sweat beads on my forehead as I maintain concentration. It’s harder to control, less instinctive, and without Ravenna here to guide me, I must rely on intuition.
A small crack appears in one of the manacles, corruption seeping from it like oil. I recoil, recognizing Mara's influence even in these chains. The dungeon wasn't designed to hold me—it wasmodifiedfor me.
I change tactics, focusing not on breaking the chains but on cleansing them. My hybrid magic responds more readily to this approach. Where the black ichor seeps from the crack, I direct purifying energy, watching as the corruption dissipates.
Progress is slow, exhausting. Without Ravenna, without our full connection, the magic strains me exponentially. But gradually, the chains weaken.
Finally, with one last surge of power, the manacle around my right wrist shatters.
I work quickly after that, using my freed hand to channel magic more precisely against the remaining bonds. One by one, they break, until I stand unrestrained in the center of my cell.
The door remains, enchanted and likely guarded. But now that I'm free of the chains, I can sense something I couldn't feel before—a current of familiar magic threading through the castle. Not Ravenna's presence directly, but the remnants ofus. The changes throughout our kingdoms—all still exist, forming a network I can potentially use.
I place my hand against the wall of my cell, focusing on that network. Through it, I sense various parts of my castle—corridors where corruption has taken hold, chambers where Mara's creatures patrol, but also pockets of resistance.
Not all of Underland has fallen.
Loyal subjects hide throughout the castle, waiting for an opportunity to rebel against the sickness invading their home.
Most significantly, I sense the transformed roses in the garden. They pulse with our combined magic, unaffected by Mara's corruption—perhaps even actively resisting it. If I can reach them, they might provide not only safety but power.
I begin to form a plan. I need to escape this cell, avoid Mara's patrols, and reach the garden. From there, I can likely connect with the broader network of roses throughout Underland, using them to locate allies and, eventually, to reach Ravenna. Our connection may be weakened, but she promised to find me. I must do my part.
I examine the cell door more carefully. Like the chains, it was designed to contain heart magic, with enchantments specificallykeyed to my magical signature. But those enchantments now face a hybrid power they weren't calibrated to recognize.
