A/N – okay, first, a shout-out to all my lovely reviewers. You're fantastic, supportive, and you make me smile. It's all for you…
Coming up, unexpected encounters, dark magic and my answer to the request of the lovely and talented Twyla Mercedes – enjoy, dearies! x
Tamara took a long, hard look around her and nodded in satisfaction at the still darkness. The forest was surprisingly noisy at night; the rustle of animals in the undergrowth, the whine and chirp of insects and the high-pitched squeak of bats took a long time to fade into the background and allow one to sleep. She put some more wood on the fire and looked at her companions. The boy had finally stopped crying and complaining and had fallen asleep a little apart from the fire. Greg was stretched out next to her, breathing lightly though his nose. She was tired enough to sleep where she sat, but decided to give him a few more minutes before waking him to take his watch. She reflected on their journey so far; it had admittedly not gone according to plan in Storybrooke, but she thought they had made the best of the situation. She had felt sorry for Greg, finding that his father was dead, but it was no more than she had suspected, once she realised what they were dealing with. She pulled her phone from her pocket. Of course, there was no signal in this land, but it still held information that they needed; maps, instructions, contingency plans. The only concern was the battery. Tamara had switched the phone off as often as possible to conserve its life, but they had taken a wrong turn that day as a result and cost themselves a couple of hours retracing their steps. Greg had scouted ahead after they had made camp, and had whispered to her on his return that the place they sought could be seen from the next ridge up ahead, and looked to be less than half a day's walk. Tamara had shared a smile of satisfaction with him that Henry had watched curiously. There was only one green bar showing at the top right corner of the phone now, but she was confident that they would reach their destination in time. She turned the phone off again and bent to shake Greg's shoulder. He awoke with a slight snort, making her smile, and grinned back at her as he shook off the last of his sleep.
"Any trouble?" he asked quietly, and she shook her head.
"Quiet as the grave," she whispered. "Let me get down there before all the heat goes."
He stood obligingly, allowing her to curl up in the warm hollow left by his body. She was asleep almost immediately, and he smiled down at her fondly, still finding it hard to believe that he had managed to find someone so pretty, clever and so perfectly attuned to him. They made quite the team. He plucked a large, rubbery leaf from the bushes behind him and twisted it into a crude drinking vessel, then strode to the nearby stream to collect some water to make himself a hot drink. The night air was cold. He had his back to the campsite, so he didn't see the tiny white light float down to Henry's sleeping face, touch his forehead and drift away into the darkness once more.
Several miles from Storybrooke, two four-wheeled drive Land Rovers were making their way along the main road towards the town. Each contained four men dressed for a hunting trip, complete with guns, bright orange vests and camping gear stowed in rucksacks. The young, dark-haired man in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle checked his sat-nav, squinting through black-rimmed glasses.
"Almost there," he said quietly. "What are you expecting when we arrive?"
The driver shrugged, pushing her red hair out of her face and keeping her eyes trained on the road ahead. "Apparently it's ordinary small-town America, until they drop their guard. With those two idiots blowing their cover, it'll be hard for us to get close to anything."
Her companion grunted in agreement, and checked his map. "We're approaching the town line. You'd better pull over."
The driver obeyed, pulling the Land Rover into the side of the road as she heard its twin draw to a stop behind, tyres crunching on pebbles and pinecones. The occupants got out, some carrying briefcases from which they removed electronic equipment and laptops. Up ahead was a sign with "Welcome to Storybrooke" written in flowing script. Small town America indeed, thought the driver wryly. She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the sign. A red line had been spray-painted across the road. She took a picture of that, too. The man who had been seated next to her strode over to take a look.
"Doesn't look too terrible, does it, Sky?" he remarked, and she frowned.
"All the more reason to fear it, in my experience," she said shortly. "You've read the data that they sent back, Alex. Do you seriously think there's anything here that shouldn't be obliterated?" Without waiting for his response, she turned back towards the others. "Ready the equipment. Mendell said that there's a kind of barrier here keeping the townsfolk in. I want as much information on it as we can get before we progress any further."
"Yes ma'am," they chorused.
Whale pressed a piece of cotton to Leroy's arm and had him hold it tightly against the skin as he withdrew the needle. A bag of crimson blood hung from a rack beside him. The doctor had been puzzled at the request, and Leroy had looked at Ruby with a silent plea not to divulge the reason for him being the one to donate his blood for the spell. Ruby had not needed his imploring expression to keep her silence.
"Thanks, Viktor," she said briskly. "We can take it from here."
"Very well, ladies," he said smoothly. "Next time you need my help, don't hesitate to call." He picked up his bag, bowed slightly, and strode from the shop.
"Jackass," muttered Leroy. Astrid stroked his arm comfortingly. She looked up at the others, a question on her face, and Belle nodded.
"We'll cast the spell now," she confirmed. "I see no reason to wait."
Astrid bit her lip uncertainly. "Belle, you do realise…"
"I do," said Belle firmly, cutting her off. "I'm ready."
Ruby looked between Astrid and Belle, confused. "I don't – Belle, what are you going to do?"
"It's okay," Belle assured her. "Just get the ingredients we need, I'll be back in a minute." She pushed aside the curtain that separated the shop from the back office, and the three remaining glanced at one another. Ruby shrugged. Leroy did the same. Astrid looked down at her folded hands, swallowing hard.
When Belle returned, she was holding something wrapped in cloth which she placed on the work table with a dull thud. Astrid flinched. Belle looked over the ingredients, sighed, nodded, then took off her jacket.
"Let's begin," she said quietly. Leroy and Astrid watched from their seat on the edge of the bed as Ruby dropped the ingredients into a new glass jar and Belle set them on fire. Ruby drained a cupful of Leroy's blood from the plastic bag and, once the dry ingredients had burned down to ash, Belle took a deep breath and poured it in. This time, the mixture turned a deep purple as it boiled, sparks of brighter purple swirling within it. When it had boiled for ten minutes, the mixture was thicker and seemed to have a life of its own, globules of potion leaping from the surface and merging in the air to fall back into the whole.
"Put it on the floor, Ruby," said Belle firmly. Confused, but complying immediately, Ruby picked up the jar of potion in towel-wrapped hands and set it on the slightly dusty floorboards.
"Okay." Belle's voice trembled slightly, but she lifted her chin. "Ruby, I need you to sit down next to Astrid. Whatever happens, none of you can touch me, do you understand?"
"What do you mean?" asked Ruby suspiciously.
"What the hell are you doing, Belle?" demanded Leroy. Astrid was silent, eyeing the bundle of cloth on the table.
Belle sighed. "Just trust me," she said levelly. "I have to do this to make the spell work. It's going to hurt, that's all. You can't touch me. If you do – it would be bad. For all of us."
Leroy and Ruby were looking decidedly unsure about this whole plan now, but Astrid raised her head.
"She's right," she said morosely. "To cast the spell, this must be done." Belle met her eyes, and Astrid nodded firmly.
"No time like the present," muttered Belle. Turning slightly, she unwrapped the bundle she had brought, and withdrew a long dagger, its edges strangely fluted, the name of her lover curling along the blade in blackened letters. Astrid swallowed hard, as though she was trying not to vomit. She put her hands out and clutched Ruby's and Leroy's in her own. Belle took a deep breath, held out her arm, and sliced across the palm of her hand with the magical blade. Ruby's cry matched her own as deep red blood spurted over the dagger, and Belle felt tears stinging her eyes as she held the blade against the open wound. The flow of blood stopped almost immediately, and they all watched in surprise as the flesh seemed to knit back together. Belle gazed at her hand, fascinated, as a sudden squirming movement began around the edges of the closing wound. All at once she fell to her knees with a bang and a scream of pain as dark threads seemed to burrow into her like worms, spreading up her arm beneath her skin. Astrid clutched at Leroy and Ruby, keeping them with her as Belle writhed on the floor.
"Oh gods!" she moaned, her entire being wracked with pain. "How does he stand it?" Tears streamed from her eyes and she let out a sob of agony. The dark threads spread across her chest, up her neck, over her cheeks. Belle pushed herself to her knees with effort, throwing her head back, arms outstretched, screaming. Her head suddenly snapped up, and the others could see her eyes had darkened to midnight, almost black. Her entire body trembled until it seemed certain she would shake apart, and then she whipped forward onto her hands and a cloud of darkness poured from her nose and mouth into the jar of potion, a stream of black smoke that seemed to eat the light from the room. The potion inside the jar began to roll and boil, the purplish-black of a thunderhead at twilight. Belle collapsed to the side, dry-heaving, and the others watched anxiously as she lay twitching with shock.
"Belle?" said Ruby uncertainly. Her friend pushed herself up on her hands and knees again. Her eyes were their normal blue, though somewhat haunted.
"Tell me it worked," she said wearily, and Ruby sighed with relief, helping her to her feet and hugging her.
"There's still more to do," ventured Astrid, and Belle gave herself a shake.
"You're right," she said briskly, her pain gone. She looked at the jar of swirling, purple darkness, and picked up the dagger in one hand, along with her translation of the runes in the other. She took a deep breath, held the dagger up in front of her, and in her mind's eye she held a picture of what she wanted to produce, how the town was to be protected. She poured all of her determination and love into the spell she was casting, and dropped down, plunging the dagger into the potion. A bubble of darkness rose up, spreading quickly through the shop and past its walls. The four inside could feel a strange closeness in the air, like the sudden drop in pressure that meant a storm was coming. They felt, rather than heard, a distant boom as the spell reached the outer limits of the town, and Belle broke into a wide grin. They had done it.
At the town line, the strangers flicked switches, hammered keyboards and twisted small knobs on their equipment as they took readings and tapped out observations. The one called Alex walked slowly towards the sign.
"You should probably wait until we've finished here," called one of his colleagues, and Alex shrugged.
"Our agents had no problems getting in," he pointed out. He strolled across the red line. He wasn't exactly sure what he had expected to feel on crossing a supposedly magical barrier, but nothing wasn't it. He took a few more steps, and was distracted by a rumbling sound, like distant thunder. He peered ahead, trying to look through the thick forest to the side of the road, and gasped as he saw a wave of blackness hurtling towards him. He froze, rooted to the spot for several seconds before coming to his senses and spinning on his heel. The darkness was upon him before he could take another step, and he was thrown to the floor as he heard a dull boom echo around him. Alex opened his eyes and pushed himself up onto his hands.
"What the hell was that?" he gasped, looking around. His colleagues were still looking at their instruments, some of them punching keys with more force than was necessary.
"What the hell's wrong with this thing?" demanded one. "The readings went haywire, and now there's nothing."
"Me too," remarked another. "And the sign's gone. What the…?" He glared at the laptop in his hand. "The town. It's disappeared from the map. What is this?"
"Well, didn't you see that cloud?" asked Alex. They ignored him, and he frowned, getting to his feet. "Guys?"
The driver, Sky, paced back and forwards, glaring at the road in front of her.
"Where the hell is Alex?" she snapped. "I told him not to wander off – has anyone seen him?"
There was a chorus of 'No's and shaken heads, and she huffed impatiently. Alex felt his insides clench with sudden fear. They couldn't see him either, it appeared. After years of studying books and theory and first-hand accounts, he had finally experienced true magic. He pushed his glasses more firmly against his nose, a nervous gesture.
"What readings are we getting?" asked Sky, and the men shook their heads.
"Nothing, ma'am," said one, his expression one of frustration. "There's nothing. It's like the town doesn't exist."
Sky frowned, and took several steps forward. Alex watched as she stepped, not towards him, but somewhere off to the side, as though the road she was seeing bent around the true road. He stepped towards the line, towards his colleagues, but hesitated before stepping over. If they couldn't see him, and they hadn't seen the magic, then it was entirely possible that if he passed the town limits and went back to them, he would not be able to return. He pulled out his phone and tried to call, but the signal had disappeared. Turning back towards the road ahead, and wishing he had thought to bring his rucksack, he shivered once, then set off towards Storybrooke. Perhaps he would find a way to contact his colleagues in the town. At the very least, he reasoned, he could see magic for himself and discover what had become of the two agents that had led them here.
David, Mary Margaret, Emma and Hook were sleeping by the embers of the campfire. It was supposedly Regina's turn to keep watch, but Gold was also awake, staring into the glowing depths of the fire. She wondered whether he needed sleep.
"The waiting's always the worst," he said suddenly, and she grimaced. She had been trying not to think about what was happening to Henry. He looked up then, the fire throwing light and shadow in sharp angles across his features. "Can you sense the spell?"
She shook her head. "Things are too – strange – here. It'll take me a few more days to get to grips with it."
"Will you be comfortable enough to teleport to where we need to go?"
Regina looked at him. "Perhaps," she allowed. "What's your plan?"
He shrugged. "I suggest that when we get an indication of where Henry is, those of us who are able to use magic to travel go there immediately to take him away."
"And his kidnappers?" Her voice was harsh, and his lips stretched in a smile that did not reach his eyes.
"I see no further need for them once we have Henry."
Regina nodded coldly. "The Charmings won't agree to it," she mused. Gold opened his hand, spreading his fingers.
"Hence my magical travel plan," he offered, with a smirk, and she smiled slowly.
"What they don't know won't hurt them," she agreed.
Gold looked up suddenly, just as Regina felt a slight tingling in her skin. Her smile widened as a tiny white light sped towards her and began dancing up and down in front of her face.
"Showtime!" she breathed, her eyes gleaming.
"Is that the spell?" Emma's voice, groggy with sleep, made Regina purse her lips in frustration. She would choose now to wake up.
"It is," confirmed Gold quietly. "Regina and I were just about to teleport to where Henry is."
"I'm coming with you," Emma said, scrambling to her feet. Regina shook her head, glaring at Gold, but to her annoyance he wasn't looking at her. He was eyeing Emma appraisingly, his gaze calculating. Regina knew that look.
"You'll need to be able to teleport," he said mildly.
"So teach me." Her tone was defiant, but it made his smile widen.
"Very well." He gestured towards Regina. "Your Majesty, I believe I'll need your help for this." He held out his hand, fingers beckoning Emma, and she took it hesitantly. Regina sighed in irritation, and took Emma's other hand.
"Feel what we do," murmured Gold. "Feel it. We're going to follow the light. You need to will yourself to come with us. Stay with us, Emma."
Emma took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could feel power building, and started as she recognised the difference between Gold's power and Regina's. Hers was strong, but jagged, sharp-edged, erratic. His was far stronger, and felt like a never-ending black thundercloud of darkness and rage. Frightened, but determined, she felt herself open up to the conflicting powers, felt where Gold was leading her, and willed herself to follow. She held her breath as the three of them disappeared in a cloud of red and purple smoke, the faintest hint of bright blue curling within it.
Greg drank his pine-needle tea and kept a sharp lookout on the surrounding area, slapping at biting insects as he did so. He loathed the forests. Ever since losing his father on their camping trip to Storybrooke, Greg had hated nature and everything about it. He had nevertheless done well on the wilderness training as part of his initiation into the Home Office, but he was far more comfortable dealing with technology, with modern ways of stopping magic from getting its dirty fingers into human life. He watched Tamara and Henry sleeping beside him, one ear listening to the rustlings of creatures in the undergrowth. He couldn't tell the difference in size between one creature and another, so he didn't realise that someone was creeping up on him until a hand darted past him and grabbed his phone from the ground beside him. Greg jerked upright with a yell, waking Tamara, and lunged for the person responsible. He grasped a thin arm, making its owner cry out, and leapt to his feet. Tamara rushed to his aid, hauling the intruder upright as they kicked and lashed out. Tamara drew a knife and held it against the throat of their captive, who suddenly stilled, breathing deeply.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" demanded Tamara. Greg shook the intruder, receiving a kick to the shins for his trouble.
"I wasn't gonna steal it, I was just looking," came a mutinous voice. Tamara and Greg shared surprised looks. A girl. They dragged her into the firelight. She was small and slight, with short, cropped black hair, her large, dark eyes glaring at them. She was dressed in soft animal skins, long trousers and a sleeveless vest embroidered with a pattern of intersecting lines around the hem. She looked to be about fourteen or fifteen years old.
"How did you know we were here?" asked Greg roughly, and the girl shrugged.
"You're noisy," she sniffed. "And you smell weird, and you clearly have no idea what you're doing. No off-worlders do."
"We've gotten this far," said Tamara coldly, and the girl, to her surprise, chuckled.
"You've only scratched the surface of this place," she said witheringly. "I've been watching you for the past two days and you had no clue I was there."
This was all too true, and Greg and Tamara frowned at one another.
"Well, we'd love to be able to take the time to punish a thief," said Greg lightly, loosening his grip on her arm. "But we have a mission to complete, so if you don't mind, Miss…"
"You don't have to worry about the boy," said the girl disparagingly, and Tamara raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, and why's that?"
The girl gave no warning as she bit Tamara's hand, tearing herself away and breaking into a run as her captor clutched her bleeding fingers and swore loudly.
"Because he's already gone, you dumb bitch!" she shouted over her shoulder. Tamara and Greg whirled around, but Henry was nowhere to be seen.
"So, are you going to tell me what the hell that was?" asked Ruby, as she and Belle left the shop. Astrid and Leroy had already gone; Astrid looked decidedly queasy after her proximity to the dagger and Leroy had offered to drive her back to the convent. Ruby had persuaded Belle to accompany her on a run in the hope that it would blow off some of her stress and make her tired enough to sleep that night, so they were going back to change before heading out.
"What?" asked Belle absently, and Ruby frowned at her.
"You. Cutting yourself open and puking black smoke all over the place."
"Oh. That." Belle sighed momentarily. "It was the spell. I don't have any magic of my own, you see, and I couldn't use one of the fairy wands – it would probably have exploded or something with that spell. So I had to use some of Rumple's power – the Dark One's power. That was what the knife was for. I had to use my own body as a sort of catalyst, to let it out." She smacked her lips together. "I can still taste it."
"How does it taste?" asked Ruby, curiously, and Belle looked as though she was pondering how to reply.
"Kind of ozone-y," she decided. "Like the air after lightning strikes. It's not unpleasant. The bad part was how it felt."
"Which was…" Ruby looked a little nervous, and Belle stopped walking, looking at the floor, biting her lip as she tried to put it into words.
"It felt like – darkness and pain and rage and bitterness and…bloodlust," she said uncomfortably. "I was terrified of it. Even for the short time it was in me. I can't imagine feeling that every day and still staying human." She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a little.
Ruby gave her a sympathetic look. "You know it's possible though, right?"
Belle smiled, a little tremulously, and squeezed her shoulder. "You're a good friend, Ruby."
"I'm the best," said Ruby, lightly. "Now, when you say it tastes of ozone, is that how he tastes when you – y'know?"
"Ruby!" spluttered Belle, reddening, and the other woman grinned.
"C'mon, I'm trying to take your mind off things!"
"Yeah, well, apparently your mind has only one track."
"Just give me all the gory details and I'll stop pestering you."
"You're such a pervert!"
"You're the one banging the Dark One."
"Doesn't make me a pervert."
The two women continued bickering good-naturedly as they reached Granny's.
"Where the hell is he?" Greg tore aside ferns and branches in a frantic bid to find Henry. Tamara loped back into the clearing after checking the area immediately surrounding their small camp.
"Nothing," she panted, her eyes wide and anxious. "What the hell do we do now?"
Greg began pacing back and forth, tapping the knuckle of his forefinger against his brow repeatedly as he thought quickly.
"Okay," he said, a little more calmly. "He can't get far. He has no food, no water, no shelter, nothing to protect himself with. We just need to track him down…"
"Before someone else does," finished Tamara, with a sigh.
Greg took her by the shoulders. "It's okay," he said gently, shaking her slightly as if to drive the point home. "We've got time. No-one knows we're here yet."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Regina's drawling voice made them both jump and turn, but she flung her hands towards them, thin black ropes springing towards them from her fingertips and pinioning their arms to their sides. Tamara immediately tried to make a run for it, but Regina flipped a contemptuous hand in her direction and she was pitched face-first onto the forest floor. She spat pine needles and dead leaves from her mouth, the breath knocked from her body. Regina gestured again and Tamara and Greg were pushed up against a nearby tree trunk in a sitting position. Regina curled her lip as she looked down at the prisoners, Gold and Emma to either side of her.
"How the hell did you follow us?" demanded Greg, glaring pure hatred at her. "How are you even alive?"
Regina smiled. "Well, you of all people should know that there's nothing more important than family," she said softly. Greg swallowed hard, rage flitting across his face. "And it appears that the more good deeds I do, the more my family want to help me," she added. Her face had a look of surprise at her own words, but she smiled sweetly. Greg felt that the smile did not bode well for him.
Emma stepped forward then, glaring down at Tamara. She could hardly bring herself to speak, but forced herself to remain calm.
"What are we going to do about Henry?" she asked, and Gold pursed his lips, considering. He quirked an eyebrow at Regina, and she nodded, lifting her finger to produce a small light just as she had earlier. She blew on it and it darted off into the undergrowth.
"We wait," said Gold simply, and planted his cane in front of him firmly, looking as though he was ready to stand in one position all night.
"He's not here," said Tamara scornfully. "You've wasted your time, we don't have him."
Gold walked slowly towards the prisoners and squatted down beside them, his gaze crawling over their faces. They eyed him nervously, glances flicking back to Emma, to Regina.
"We know you had him," blurted Emma, her fists clenching and unclenching. "We know you had him because we tracked you here."
"And how did you do that?" Greg's voice was amused and dismissive. "Magic? Don't you realise it won't help you in this? It can only destroy what you love."
"And what you hate," added Gold, with a humourless smile. He eyed the two of them closely. "You were going somewhere," he said. "You were taking Henry there. Tell us where, and why."
"You'll get nothing out of us," said Greg disdainfully, and Gold chuckled.
"I do so love a challenge," he purred.
"Gold." Regina's voice was cold and brittle. He turned to face her, and she shook her head. "There's nothing. The spell – it's just – disappeared." She looked genuinely shaken, and he frowned. He lifted a finger and sent out his own spell, questing through the trees and bushes for Henry. There was silence as the group waited for its return. Gold felt a tiny, sharp prickle at the back of his consciousness and the spell unravelled. His frown deepened.
"You seem to be having a problem with magic," suggested Greg, a smug grin spreading across his face. Maybe that'll teach you what we already know. That it's evil. That those who use it are evil. That they're servants of darkness and must be punished." He seemed to leer at Regina as he spoke, seemingly with no doubt in his mind as to who he wanted to punish first. Regina snorted and rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Do you have any idea how incredibly medieval you sound?" she drawled, her dark eyes raking over him disdainfully. "You must be so disappointed that the Inquisition no longer holds any power. I can just imagine the two of you working the rack to extract confessions from innocent people."
"Innocent!" spat Greg. "No-one who uses magic is innocent!"
Regina shrugged. "No-one who uses magic would allow themselves to be racked," she pointed out. "Magic is not the problem here. Intolerance is."
"It's unholy," declared Tamara, her eyes snapping with hatred as she supported her lover. "None of us will stop until it's wiped from every world we can get to! You can kill the two of us and a thousand more will take our places."
Emma gazed at the woman bound and defiant before them, her anger at Tamara's actions momentarily overshadowed by her curiosity at what had driven the two of them to think as they did, and who else they might be working with.
"Fanatics," sighed Gold, shaking his head sadly, as though he pitied them. Perhaps he did, though Emma doubted it. "Always so predictably self-sacrificing! Hypocritical, too." He sat back on his heels, one hand on his cane. "You claim to despise magic in all its forms, and yet you were more than happy to use a magic bean to achieve your own ends. You say that human beings should not harness forces they shouldn't be able to control, and yet you used electricity for your own purposes, to torture Regina." He smiled unpleasantly, leaning forward slightly and making Greg push back against the tree. "That little electrocution device of yours. Crude, but moderately effective. Of course, you didn't get the information you wanted, but you did cause the Queen a great deal of pain, which I'm sure was your primary motive anyway."
"I wanted to find my father," spat Greg, shifting in his bonds.
"You wanted to torture someone." Gold's voice was soft, almost a caress. "You wanted the power over her, the power you felt she took from you. I understand that. I understand how seductive that can be. Unfortunately for you, so does Regina." His voice became a deadly whisper, and Emma stiffened as she saw his eyes darken, a curiously mischievous light shining in them. "She's done it herself, you see. Countless times. She would never have given you what you wanted. She would never have given you the satisfaction of breaking."
"Damn right," put in Regina, coldly.
"Your methods," continued Gold, his voice pleasant, his eyes cruel. "Simply weren't effective enough."
"And no doubt yours are," said Tamara, her voice laced with scorn. Emma had credited her with more intelligence.
Gold grinned at her. "But of course. I have had over three hundred years to perfect them. I'm sure we'll find something that works." He stroked a finger across her cheek, and she wrenched her head away, looking revolted, and a little afraid.
Emma tapped him on the shoulder. "Can I talk to you?"
He straightened up, face impassive, and walked off with her, out of earshot of the prisoners. She turned to face him, and his raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"No torture," she said firmly. "We'll get the information from them another way."
"How, exactly?" he asked sarcastically. "Appeal to their better natures? Have you forgotten what they did? She killed my Baelfire!" His voice lowered, his gaze searching. "She killed Henry's father," he whispered. "She killed your true love."
"I haven't forgotten anything!" hissed Emma fiercely. "But I won't become a monster because of it! And nor should you!"
"Oh, I've been a monster for a very long time, dearie," he breathed, showing his teeth.
She shook her head. "You changed. Belle changed you, remember? Don't go back to what you were before. She wouldn't want it. Neal wouldn't want it."
He sighed and dropped his gaze, leaning heavily on his cane. "Another beautiful woman trying to save my soul," he said dryly. "A fool's errand, but your efforts are appreciated, however futile. What do you suggest we do to get the information?"
Emma ran her hands over her face tiredly. "I don't know, let me think. First we need to get them back to the ship and secure them somehow. Lock them up. Maybe we can use the mirror again." Gold nodded thoughtfully.
"In that case we should get moving. No doubt your parents are already worried." Emma watched him closely as he turned back to the prisoners. His expression was neutral, and he seemed calm, but Regina was emanating fury. She could be a problem.
"How do you propose we get them there, Gold?" demanded Regina. "It's not as though we can teleport with all three of them." Emma bristled at being lumped in with Greg and Tamara, but accepted that Regina probably had a point about the transportation problems.
"Then we shall walk," said Gold mildly. "Ensure they're bound fast, Your Majesty, but not so fast they can't make their own way there." He breathed into his cupped palm, then, and Emma gasped as a tiny red bird flew out of it with a high-pitched twittering and shot away from them. She looked enquiringly at Gold, and he shrugged.
"A message to your mother." He raised his hand, gesturing extravagantly, and produced a ball of light in cold bluish-white.
"Now, Emma, would you like me to show you how to get back to the camp again?" His voice was soft, but there was a measuring look in his eyes, a calculating glint that she didn't entirely trust.
"Uh – sure – I mean, yeah, I would," she said, trying to make her words sound more assured as she finished the sentence. He crooked his finger, and she approached him warily.
"I need to find your parents," he said softly. "So I will sending a tiny piece of magic out from myself to do so."
"Like the spell Regina used?" guessed Emma, and he smiled.
"The very same. Watch, and try to feel what I do." His grin widened, his eyebrows twitching. "You can even join in, if you like."
Unsure as to how he could make that sound like something dirty, she closed her eyes, ridding herself of distractions, and reached out towards him with her mind. She could feel his power, could feel the tiniest bit of it peel off as thoughts of her parents filled her head. Experimentally, she tried shoving the tiny piece of magic away from her, and gasped as she opened her eyes to see a tiny white light streaking away from them in the darkness. She noted that it moved far quicker than Regina's had, and she wondered whether it was just that Gold's magic was stronger, or that she had helped.
"Very well done, Emma," said Gold softly. She was breathing deeply, and Regina was watching her, her face inscrutable.
"Ready when you are, Gold," was all she said. She had left the ropes she had conjured on Greg and Tamara, and a faint purple light also surrounded them. Emma raised an eyebrow at her.
"What the hell's that?" she asked bluntly, and Regina smiled unpleasantly.
"They won't be able to move unless we wish it, and we won't be able to hear any of their pointless ranting and whining," she said, in a self-satisfied way.
It took only a few minutes for the spell to return, dancing in front of Emma and Gold as it waited for them to follow. Emma smiled at its enthusiasm, and Gold cast a dubious eye over the thick undergrowth they would have to journey through.
"Well, I'm not spending the entire evening blasting bushes out of my way," he snapped, clearly irritated. "If we have to pick our way through the jungle, I should probably change." He waved his hands and red smoke covered him momentarily. When it cleared Emma gasped, Regina rolled her eyes, and Tamara and Greg curled disdainful lips. Gold's customary three-piece suit had disappeared, replaced by tight leather pants in a brown so dark it was almost black, tucked into laced knee-boots. On top he wore a shirt in rust-coloured silk, open at the neck beneath a short, fitted leather waistcoat and high-collared jacket in a slightly lighter brown than the trousers. The sides of the jacket and, she suspected, the waistcoat, were split and laced in leather, allowing for freedom of movement. The shades of his new clothing would fade easily into the jungle undergrowth, not to mention that the leather would not be bothered by thorns, and Emma debated whether she should ask him to change her own clothes. He looked – different, she thought. His features and hair had not changed, but there was an amused, mischievous light in his eyes that she had previously only seen flashes of. He had not lost any of his dark authority with his suit, but now he seemed – wilder, more unpredictable. She could not decide whether this was a good thing or not. His magic light shot up into the air in front of them, showing the way, and Emma and Regina hauled on the ropes securing Greg and Tamara.
"Shall we?" asked Gold, gesturing in front of them.
Emma gave him an appraising look as he stalked away through the trees, her head slightly to one side as she looked over his slim form in its tight leather covering. He may be many things, she mused. Calculating, dangerous, infuriating, mercurial and ruthless, but there was no denying that Gold had a mighty fine ass.
I'm giving you fair warning my lovelies – I will try my best to update next weekend, but I'm teaching, so I may not have the time. If not the update will be up as soon as humanly possible. Hope you enjoyed. Please review if so.