The bolt of a lock slid into place behind Emma. She banged on the door with her fist, calling for Lily to please let her out, but her cries were met with nothing but silence and the sound of retreating footsteps. With tears welling up in her eyes, she sank to the cold stone floor, trembling.

Through bleary eyes, she took in her surroundings. The room was small, less than half the size of her bedroom back home, but as she looked around she realized it was nothing like the dreary dungeon cell she had expected. Instead, there was a four-poster bed made up with pillows and blankets, a thick velvet rug on the stone floor, and a window looking out on the surrounding mountains. Her eyes widened in surprise, but then she shook her head. A comfortable prison was still a prison.

Looking out the window, she spotted something in the distance, moving toward the castle. Her parents' army! With any luck she would be out of here in no time! And yet … as she thought about her parents coming in with an army to save her, a lump formed in her throat. In the stories, you always had to slay the dragon to rescue the princess.

No. That was silly. Why would she care what happened to her captor? All that mattered was getting home safely.

Outside, she saw two dragons take flight, circling in and out of view like two enormous birds, if birds had scales and breathed fire. She had thought Lily was a large dragon, but compared to her mother, she was tiny. Meanwhile, the army on the ground came closer and closer, until she could make out her parents' faces, darkened with worry. With a jolt, Emma realized she had been so busy worrying about her family killing Lily that she had forgotten her family would be in just as much danger from the dragons. A cry of panic escaped her lips.

No. There had to be a way out of this without any bloodshed, if only she was clever enough to find it. She peered nervously out the window, but the sheer drop sent her reeling backwards. This tower didn't need iron bars on the window to keep her captive; trying to get out that way would be nothing short of suicide.

But what else could she do? Far below, the army advanced closer and closer, Emma's mother and father in the lead. And high above them, two dragons waited, snarling at the oncoming forces. The smaller of the two looked Emma's direction for a moment and met her gaze with glowing eyes. Then, turning away, the dragon Emma knew to be Lily swerved downward, flames shooting from her mouth. Emma recoiled in horror. One way or another, someone was going to die today. Maybe many people.

This wasn't the time for tears. This was the time for solutions. The window was suicide, that much was clear; even if Emma could find some way to make a rope, she would have to dangle from the side of the tower, careful not to let her grip on it falter, not far from two very large fire-breathing dragons. All while wearing these cumbersome skirts. The walls were stone … the door was made of wood, but it was strong and sturdy … wood could burn, but then she'd be trapped by a doorway of flames and quite possibly get herself killed.

Her gaze fell upon the lock, and she knew she had found her way out. Closing her eyes, she let her desire, her need to get out of this tower fill her up. Urgency and panic overwhelmed her, but that wouldn't be enough, she knew. It worked better when she felt a protective instinct kick in, she knew that from the time she stopped a Baron's son from picking on the servants' kids and sent him across the room in a burst of light magic. So she focused on her parents, on her love for them and her worry that they were going to die trying to save her if she didn't get out of here soon … to her surprise, she felt Lily floating to the forefront of her mind as well, the strange dragon-girl who, in spite of everything, she didn't want to see die at her parents' hands. She didn't think, she just felt, until her emotions were too overwhelming to control.

The click of the lock and the creak of the door falling open told her she had succeeded. Her eyes flew open. Beaming at the open doorway, she gathered her skirts to keep from tripping and stepped forward. She took the stairs two at a time, leaping down, her heart racing. She rushed down dimly-lit corridors and through all manner of rooms, searching for the way out, wishing Lily had brought her up the front steps instead of poofing them into the castle. Then she found it. Two enormous wooden doors. She gave them a tentative push, and they creaked open.

Outside, the battle had begun in earnest. The two dragons rained fire down upon the army. Charred bodies were already strewn about the ground. Emma searched the battlefield frantically for her mother and father, heaving a sigh of relief as she spotted them.

"Emma!" Snow cried, spotting her there in the doorway. She dodged a blast of dragon fire and raced towards Emma, who ran forward into her arms. For a moment, it seemed as though the battle stopped, and all Emma was aware of was the warmth of her mother's body, and the voice in her ear whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you."

Then an arrow whizzed past, bringing them back to reality.

"Please, mom …" Emma said. "Get me out of here."

Snow hesitated.

"We should finish this," she said.

"No," said Emma. "Please just take me home. Now."

Snow nodded and called out to the army to retreat. She wrapped Emma in her cloak and pulled her onto the horse, arms wrapped tightly around her. With the King riding beside them, they set off at a run. Emma glanced back over her shoulder to see hundreds of retreating soldiers, chased by fire that the large dragon spat. The smaller one looked straight at Emma, opening its mouth as if to burn the three of them with her breath. But then she paused, looked at Emma with sadness in her eyes, and turned away.