Page 43 of Off with Her Head

We form a complete plan, refining the details with each exchange. Our tie through the sapling allows us to converse in moments rather than hours.

As our strategy solidifies, a disturbing ripple passes through our connection. Scarlett's presence suddenly dims, her thoughts becoming fragmented.

Scarlett?I call, alarmed by the disruption.

Mara—Her response comes broken, strained.She knows—senses our connection—coming—the garden—

Then silence.

The connection remains, but Scarlett's active presence has withdrawn—hiding, concealing herself from detection.

I straighten, turning to the Cheshire Cat with urgency. "Mara moves against Scarlett. We need to hurry."

He nods, his form solidifying further. "I'll alert your commander. The attack must begin within the hour if we hope to create sufficient confusion for your plan to succeed."

As he vanishes to deliver this message, I remain by the sapling, one hand maintaining contact with its crimson bark. I continue sending strength to Scarlett, wherever she now hides. Whether or not she can hear me, I can’t be certain, but I’m trying.

The clearing around the sapling has changed subtly during our communication. The trees at the perimeter now form what appears to be a defensive formation, their branches interlacing to create natural barriers. The flowers have rearrangedthemselves into patterns reminiscent of tactical maps, seemingly reflecting our strategic planning.

It strikes me that this place responds to intention, topurpose.

I return to the edge of the Wood where our forces have completed preparations. Lysander approaches, his expression grim but determined.

"The Cheshire Cat conveyed the change in timeline," he reports. "Our forces stand ready, awaiting your command. The chess pieces will lead the frontal assault while shadow-warriors infiltrate through the castle's eastern approach. The card-soldiers will create diversions at strategic points." He hesitates, then adds, "We've received reports that Edmund himself leads the castle's outer defenses."

This complicates matters. Edmund—or what remains of him—is Mara's strongest weapon apart from herself. His connection to Ironwood's suppression magic makes him particularly dangerous.

"Can our forces handle Edmund while creating a sufficient distraction?" I ask.

Lysander ponders the question, assessing variables before giving me an answer. "With difficulty, but yes. The chess pieces in particular seem effective against Mara’s power."

I nod, adjusting our strategy accordingly. "Then they shall engage him directly while the shadow-warriors focus on penetrating to the castle interior."

As last minute preparations continue around us, I feel a sudden, sharp pulse through my connection with Scarlett. Not words, but emotion—determination and defiance.

She faces Mara, or prepares to. Soon, we will execute our coordinated attack, driving the sickness toward the one power pure enough to counter it.

I reach once more for our connection.I'm coming, Scarlett. Hold fast. Whatever happens, we face it together.

As I strap my ritual knife to my waist and don the light armor Lysander has provided, I feel the rightness of what we attempt. Not just for our kingdoms, not just for magic itself, but for our people.

Horns sound from multiple directions as our forces advance on the castle. From the south, chess pieces move in their distinctive patterns; knights leap impossible distances while rooks advance in perfect straight lines. From the east, shadow-warriors slip between patches of darkness, silent and deadly. From the west, card-soldiers create diversions and draw attention.

And I advance directly through the center, accompanied by a small elite guard of both shadow-warriors and card-soldiers. Our objective is not to engage the main force but to penetrate to the garden where Scarlett awaits—to reunite the queens before leading Mara to her downfall.

Mara’s forces respond immediately, pouring from the castle in disorganized waves. Unlike the coordinated attack that captured Scarlett, these defenders seem to lack central direction—suggesting Mara's attention focuses elsewhere. On Scarlett, perhaps, rather than the external threat.

Resistance appears in the form of Edmund, or what remains of him. The king stands before the main gate, cancerous growths completely encasing what was once a human form. Within his transparent prison, I glimpse a figure frozen in silent agony—eyes wide, mouth open in an eternal scream, hands raised as if to claw his way free of the darkness that has consumed him.

The sight should horrify me, should evoke pity or revulsion. Instead, I feel only cold certainty. This is what awaits all three kingdoms if we fail today.

Edmund's crystalline form pulses with sickly light as he raises arms that no longer resemble human limbs. Power flows from him in visible waves, targeting the chess pieces that advance to engage him. Where his magic touches them, crystal growths begin to form.

But the chess pieces are resilient. The knights, in particular, seem largely immune to its immediate effects. They advance in their characteristic L-shaped movements, confounding Edmund's attempts to track and target them. Their weapons—carved from the same material as their bodies—strike Edmund, creating cracks that leak.

This scene creates precisely the distraction we need. While Edmund focuses on the chess pieces, my smaller force slips past, using shadow-warrior abilities to move between patches of darkness. We encounter minimal resistance as we approach the garden entrance, suggesting Mara has indeed concentrated her attention elsewhere.

As I enter the garden, the roses—ourroses—stand defiant, their hybrid blooms untouched and beautiful. They turn toward me as I enter, petals opening wider in recognition. Through them, I sense Scarlett more strongly; she’s nearby.

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