Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
SCARLETT
I awaken to darkness and the taste of iron on my tongue.
The dungeon. My dungeon. The irony doesn't escape me—imprisoned in the very cells I ordered constructed to hold those who defied the Queen of Hearts. The walls are a perfect checkerboard of red and black marble, designed to disorient prisoners through optical illusions that shift and swirl when viewed too long. Enchanted chains bind my wrists and ankles, their magic specifically calibrated to suppress magic.
My head throbs with such intensity I can hardly see—a hollow ache that resonates through my entire being. It takes me a moment to identify its source: the severed connection to Ravenna. Where once I felt her presence, now there is only emptiness, a void .
A scraping sound draws my attention to the cell door. It opens to reveal a creature that was once one of my card-soldiers—the Jack of Hearts, who had served as one of my personal guards for years. Now Mara has broken him, black crystal growths erupting from his paper form, his once-loyal eyes now pools of darkness. Behind him stands Mara.
"Comfortable?" she asks, her voice so raw that it makes my teeth ache. "I thought you might appreciate the symmetry of your situation."
I straighten as much as the chains allow, refusing to show weakness. “How’s Edmund?" I ask, pressing what I can only hope might be a vulnerability. "Is he suffering or is he comfortable in the shell you’ve locked him away in?”
The question strikes a nerve. Mara turns away sharply, power flowing more rapidly across her body as her temper spikes. "Edmund understood the necessity of sacrifice. He volunteered to be the first, to demonstrate his commitment to our shared vision."
The lie is so transparent I almost pity her need to believe it. "Is that what you tell yourself? Do you not sleep otherwise?"
"Enough!" She spins back to face me, magic flowing from her in visible waves that make the air itself seem to warp. "You know nothing. You're here for one purpose—to complete the triad."
"The triad?"
"The three magics," she continues, regaining her composure. "The original triplets. For true unification to occur, all three must be present." She smiles, the expression horrible on her corrupted face. "Ravenna holds blood magic. You hold heart magic. And I—" she gestures to her crystalline form "—I have merged with iron's essence through Edmund."
Panic hits me suddenly. "Where is Ravenna? What have you done with her?"
"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 for everyone involved." 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. Conserve your strength. You'll need it for what comes next."
“It’s Queen Scarlett,” 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 my own 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 was modified for 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 of us . 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 specifically keyed to my magical signature. But those enchantments now face a hybrid power they weren't calibrated to recognize.
I place both hands on the door, drawing on our magic. Blood from my abraded wrists provides the necessary sacrifice while heart magic supplies the creative application. Together, they flow into the door's enchantment.
The door turns to ash beneath my touch. My eyes widen and I gasp as I take in my work, surprised by what I’ve done.
I step through the empty doorway, emerging into the corridor beyond. It's empty for the moment, though I sense Mara’s guards patrolling nearby. The dungeons are dimly lit, shadows gathering in corners where corruption has begun to spread along the walls.
Moving silently, I navigate toward the staff’s stairwell—a secret passage that connects the dungeons directly to the upper levels of the castle. When we built the Castle of Cards, I ensured my domain contained numerous hidden routes, escape paths known only to me and my most trusted subjects. Now, those preparations may save not just my life but my entire kingdom.
The stairwell entrance is concealed behind a section of wall that responds to my touch. I slip inside, sealing it behind me before ascending the narrow steps. Each floor I pass reveals sounds of occupation—creatures moving through my castle.
My castle has become enemy territory. The realization burns like acid, fueling my determination to reclaim what's mine and find Ravenna.
I emerge from the passage into an unused pantry near the kitchens. Pressing my ear to the door, I hear the shuffle of feet, their once-human voices now layered with sickly undertones. I hear no allies here.
Another hidden passage leads me toward the eastern wing. This route is more treacherous, requiring me to cross exposed corridors at several points. I move cautiously, using my magic before venturing into the open.
The network of transformed roses guides me, their magic calling to mine like beacons in darkness. They lead me toward the garden, suggesting the safest route through increasingly dark territory.
I'm nearly there when I sense a familiar presence ahead— hiding . I follow it to a small antechamber near the garden entrance, where I find the White Rabbit huddled behind a cabinet, his pocket watch clutched to his chest.
"Your Majesty!" he gasps when I reveal myself, his eyes widening in a mixture of fear and hope. "You're alive! We thought—when Queen Mara took the castle—"
"Shh," I caution, keeping my voice low. "I've escaped, but Mara still controls the castle. Who else remains loyal?"
The Rabbit's whiskers twitch nervously. "Many of us, My Queen. The Duchess leads a resistance from the kitchens. The chess pieces hold the west tower. The Mad Hatter and March Hare gather forces in the Wood." He leans closer, dropping his voice further. "And the Cheshire Cat moves among us, coordinating where he can."
Relief floods through me. The situation is dire but not hopeless. "I need to reach the garden," I tell him. "The roses there may help me contact Ravenna."
"Queen Ravenna lives as well?" His expression brightens. "Mara’s soldiers boasted that both queens had fallen."
"Mara lies," I say simply. "Can you create a distraction to clear the corridor to the garden?"
The Rabbit straightens, a determination I've rarely seen overcoming his natural timidity. "For Underland, Your Majesty, I can be brave." He checks his pocket watch, making a quick calculation. "At precisely three minutes past the hour, the patrol will reach the far corridor. I'll lead them away from the garden entrance."
I squeeze his shoulder in gratitude. "Once I'm safely in the garden, find the Duchess. Tell her I live and fight still. Tell her to prepare her forces for my signal."
"What signal, My Queen?"
I smile grimly. "The roses will bloom as they've never bloomed before."
The Rabbit nods, then scurries toward the corridor, his pocket watch ticking with comforting regularity. I wait the prescribed three minutes, then hear his panicked voice echoing from a distance.
"The Queen escapes! The Queen escapes! This way, quickly!"
The sound of guards rushing to investigate creates my opportunity. I slip into the corridor and race toward the garden entrance, throwing open the heavy doors and stepping into what was once my pride and joy.
The garden has changed dramatically under Mara's occupation. Black crystal growths erupt from the manicured lawns, forming twisted sculptures. The pathways have shifted, no longer following their carefully planned routes but twisting according to Mara's will. Many of the traditional flowers have withered.
But the roses—the roses stand defiant.
Red and black blooms rise from beds untouched, their hybrid nature somehow resistant to Mara's influence. They turn toward me as I enter, petals opening wider, stems reaching as if to welcome their queen's return.
I move to the center of the rose garden, where the largest and most magnificent blooms grow. Here, the resistance is strongest, creating a sanctuary amid the spreading darkness. I kneel among them, placing my hands directly on the soil that nourishes their roots.
"Help me," I whisper, channeling the hybrid magic into the earth. "Help me find her."
The roses respond immediately, their magic recognizing and amplifying mine. Power flows between us, the network expanding beyond the garden to connect with every transformed rose throughout Underland. I sense resistance across my kingdom—subjects who fight against her, places where our magic has created natural barriers to Mara's influence.
And somewhere, distant but unmistakable, I sense Ravenna.
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.
A promise .