Page 41 of Off with Her Head
The connection remains tenuous, too weak for direct communication, but I know she lives.
Through the rose network, I send a message.
I am alive. I am free. I gather forces. Find the Blood Tree sapling.
Whether she receives this message remains uncertain, but the attempt itself strengthens me. I am no longer alone, no longer isolated in enemy territory. I have allies,resources, and a growing understanding of how to wield this hybrid magic even without Ravenna physically beside me.
As I rise from the garden floor, the roses respond. They grow visibly, stems thickening, blooms enlarging, thorns extending into defensive formations around the garden's perimeter. They become a fortress within a fortress, a base from which to launch my counterattack.
The White Rabbit reappears at the garden entrance, the Duchess now at his side. Her usually sour expression is transformed by fierce loyalty as she curtsies.
"My Queen," she says gravely. "How may we serve Underland in its hour of need?"
I straighten to my full height, feeling more truly the Queen of Hearts than I have in years—not through fear, but through the genuine loyalty of subjects who choose to stand with me against corruption.
"Gather everyone you can trust," I tell them, my voice steady with newfound purpose. "We're going to retake our castle, find Queen Ravenna, and ensure that the queen who falls is Mara."
Through the rose network, I feel a distant response—a pulse of blood magic that can only be Ravenna.
Not words, not thoughts.
Apromise.
Chapter
Sixteen
RAVENNA
The Castle of Cards looms in the distance, its once vibrant towers now tinged with darkness. Even from my hidden vantage point in the Wood, I can see the corruption spreading across its walls. The sight fills me with fury. Not simply because Mara has taken what isn't hers, but because somewhere within those walls is Scarlett.
MyScarlett.
The severance of our connection remains a constant, gnawing ache—a phantom pain. I reach instinctively for her through our bond, finding only the faintest thread. Yet that thread, tenuous as it is, is my most precious possession. As long as it remains, I know she lives.
"It’s spreading faster than anticipated," Commander Lysander observes, crouched beside me at the edge of the clearing. He arrived from Darkmore hours ago with a contingent of shadow-warriors, following my urgent summons. "Your sister's power has grown significantly since our last encounter."
"She isnotmy sister," I reply, the words tasting like ash. "Whatever Mara was, she has surrendered to darkness entirely. What remains wears her body but uses it only as a vessel."
Lysander nods, accepting this assessment without question. He has witnessed enough to understand the truth of it. "Then our strategy must adapt accordingly. We face not a misguided queen but an enemy who must be eliminated entirely."
Around us, Underland's resistance forces gather—a coalition of loyal subjects who escaped the castle's fall. Card-soldiers rustling as they prepare for battle. Chess pieces, particularly knights and rooks, strategizing. The strangest allies come from Underland's magical inhabitants—the Mad Hatter and his companions, the Caterpillar atop his mushroom, the Dodo with his collection of unusual timepieces.
In the time since Scarlett's capture, I've learned that Underland conceals remarkable resilience. These bizarre creatures, whom I once dismissed as frivolous manifestations of heart magic's undisciplined nature, have proven themselves clever, resourceful, and fiercely loyal to their queen.
Toourqueen, as many have taken to addressing me alongside Scarlett. The distinction between our kingdoms seems increasingly meaningless to them.
The Cheshire Cat appears beside me, his grin forming first, followed gradually by the rest of his striped form. "The roses send a message," he purrs, his voice uncharacteristically direct. "The Queen of Hearts lives. She has escaped her chains and rallies forces within the castle itself."
My heart leaps at the confirmation. The faint thread of our connection had suggested as much, but certainty is a gift beyond price. "Can you take us to her?"
The Cat's tail swishes contemplatively. "Directly? No. The castle's corruption interferes with my... particular method of movement. But the roses create paths that it cannot easily follow. Through them, we might establish more reliable communication."
I turn my attention to the nearest rose bush—one of many that have sprouted spontaneously throughout Underland since our magics began to merge. The blooms are perfectly formed, their stems bearing thorns that seem sharper, more purposeful than those on ordinary roses. I extend my hand toward them, and they respond immediately, bending toward my touch as if drawn by magnetic force.
Magic flows from my fingertips into the nearest bloom. Through the rose, I sense others of its kind within the vast network extending throughout Underland, and through that network, faint but unmistakable, I sense Scarlett.
"She's in the central garden," I report, the connection strengthening as I maintain contact with the rose. "Gathering allies, preparing to strike from within as we attack from outside." I pause, receiving another impression through the connection. "And..." my voice trails off as I concentrate on interpreting her message. “The sapling.”
