Page 51 of Off with Her Head

Ironwood's landscape differs dramatically from both Underland and Darkmore. Edmund's kingdom presents stark geometric precision. Forests grow in perfect rows, rivers flow in carefully engineered channels, even the clouds above appear to follow designated patterns across an oddly metallic sky.

Or at least, that's how itshouldappear. As our carriage approaches the border, I see how corruption has warped Ironwood's natural order. Black crystal growths erupt from precisely arranged trees, distorting their alignment. Waterways now twist in unnatural patterns, their surfaces bearing oily sheens. The metallic sky has developed fracture lines.

"It's worse than I expected," Scarlett observes from beside me, her green-blue eyes cataloging each disturbing detail.

"The source remains active," I reply, touching the pouch containing the Blood Tree seed. "Until we address the pool directly, poison will continue flowing outward, merely hampered by Mara's absence rather than truly contained."

Our forces follow behind in formation. They bear no offensive weapons, projecting diplomatic intention whilemaintaining defensive capability should Ironwood resist our intervention.

Edmund himself rides in a separate carriage, still weakened from his time as corruption's vessel but insistent on returning to his kingdom as its rightful ruler. His recovery progresses steadily; each day brings more clarity to those once-vacant eyes.

"There," Scarlett indicates a patrol approaching. "We’ll see how this goes."

I nod, signaling our carriage to halt at a respectful distance from the border. The Ironwood patrol approaches cautiously—six soldiers in iron armor.

Edmund emerges from his carriage unaided, though I note the careful way he balances. His royal attire hangs slightly loose on a frame thinned by magical imprisonment, but his bearing remains regal, shoulders squared with purpose despite obvious discomfort.

Edmund’s voice is deceivingly strong as he speaks. "I return to my kingdom accompanied by allies who helped free me from corruption's prison."

The patrol hesitates, weapons neither lowered nor raised as they process what they’re seeing. Their captain steps forward, removing her helmet to reveal a face marked with faint black veins—early signs of corruption's spread among Ironwood's leadership.

"Your Majesty," she acknowledges with careful neutrality. "The castle received no word of your liberation. Queen Mara informed the council that you remained in voluntary seclusion."

Edmund's jaw tightens at this evidence of Mara's manipulation, but he maintains his composure. "Queen Mara no longer speaks for Ironwood or its king," he states firmly.

The captain's eyes widen at this collection of revelations, her gaze moving from Edmund to Scarlett and me, but she nods. I sense Scarlett's magical awareness extending, subtly assessingthe patrol's corruption levels, determining whether they retain sufficient autonomy for meaningful negotiation.

They're not fully corrupted, she confirms.Influenced but not controlled. They maintain independent thought, if perhaps compromised judgment.

"I am your king," he reminds her.

“Queen Mara informed us of your deteriorating mental state, and told us to only take orders from her directly. My deepest apologies, Your Majesty, but I cannot let you through with such an army at your back. And two uninvited rulers? Queen Mara would have my head.”

“Queen Mara is dead,” Edmund snaps, quickly losing patience.

More Ironwood soldiers appear from the surrounding forest, closing in around us. “We have not received word of her death, so it mustn’t be true.” The soldiers step closer, using intimidation as an attempt to scare us back.

Edmund signals for our carriages to move back and away from her, following us as we move away. Once we’re far enough away, he speaks so quietly only we can hear him. "I suggest I create a distraction while you infiltrate. They’re not going to let you through willingly."

“What?” Scarlett and I say in unison, shocked by his sudden change in tactics.

"You want to divert their attention to you while we slip away?" I ask for clarification.

Edmund straightens, determination overcoming physical weakness. "I failed my kingdom once by succumbing to Mara. I will not fail again through cowardice or hesitation. The council shall see their king—while you deliver their salvation whether they recognize the need or not."

We plan quickly and quietly. Edmund will approach openly with minimal guard, maintaining appearance of diplomaticcompliance while employing subtle delays to maximize our window. Meanwhile, Scarlett and I will utilize shadow-walking capabilities to penetrate Ironwood's defenses.

The approach carries significant risk. Shadow-walking within Ironwood's boundaries has historically proven to be difficult due to the kingdom's suppression magic. The poison’s presence creates additional complications, potentially destabilizing shadow-passages or redirecting emergence points.

But we must try. For all three kingdoms.

"Ready?" Scarlett asks as Edmund's delegation departs toward the main gates, his royal procession drawing all visible attention.

I nod, taking her hand as we leap into a shadow. Shadow-warriors form a protective perimeter around us, their bodies partially translucent as they attune to dimensional transition.

We step beyond ordinary reality, entering a dimension of shadows where physical laws yield to magical intention. Around us, Ironwood's landscape appears as a geometric outline rather than solid matter.

"This way," I point, sensing the pool's direction.

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