A new day is beginning in Phoenix and with it comes some deepening mysteries.
Several miles away from the hospital where his victim lay unconscious, Nehemiah Kronk was also beginning his day, still bitter that he'd been forced to come up with a different tactic. He'd clearly been away from this realm for too long as he'd never been thwarted by someone so insignificant as the Scottsdale hospital's admission desk clerk. No one would have dared question a United States Marshal in his day, but perhaps too much had changed. Information traveled too fast and now, he didn't dare attempt that subterfuge again. He would need a new approach – one that wouldn't be scrutinized so closely in this overly suspicious environment.
He'd left the ill-fitting suit behind in the motel closet, changing into blue jeans and an oversized brown and red plaid, short-sleeved button down shirt. The color was a little flashier than the basic black business suit, but the style fit in much in the casual urban environment. He'd left the shirt tail untucked, finding that it was conveniently long enough to conceal a weapon if necessary, although he most often had to improvise as the weapon detecting machines seemed to be everywhere these days.
Yzma may have sent him through the portal in a rash attempt to secure what she believed was access to her gold (a foolish and impossible venture really) but Kronk had followed the wounded pirate and the blonde sheriff through for a different reason – one that had absolutely nothing to do with gold or any other riches. Donning a newly acquired pair of sunglasses, he stepped out into the Arizona sunshine and headed toward the bus stop at the end of the block. Public transportation gave him some degree of anonymity right now and he was wise enough never to go directly from one location to another. A couple of changes of buses might cut into his valuable time, but it made him far less traceable. If he needed to get somewhere in a hurry though, it wasn't too difficult to steal a car as he'd done to descend the mountain. Older model vehicles were much easier – less complicated doodads and doohickeys, but he generally settled for whatever he could access on short notice.
Only a few days remained in their window. The Blood Moon would rise tomorrow and if the portal wasn't properly activated within three sunsets, he'd have to wait another year to return. He didn't need Yzma's so-called powers to get back to the land she'd hoped to rule and honestly, he didn't really care if she returned with him. He'd already spent more than a lifetime perfecting the skill of pretending to do work for others when in truth, he was doing everything for his own benefit. He'd discovered the secret to how the dagger opened the portal to the Land of Plenty and he was so close to getting what he wanted. All he needed was that missing piece and a little bit of magic borrowed from Storybrooke and he would at last be the one in charge.
As she paid for her much needed cup of morning coffee, Emma suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. She must look an absolute fright after her rough, mostly sleepless night. She'd hastily pulled her messy blonde tresses into a ponytail but there wasn't much she could do about her wrinkled tee shirt. She could feel eyes staring at her, but maybe it was only in her own head. She was just a disheveled wife who'd spent the night at her ailing husband's side and she just had to stop being concerned about what anyone else thought.
She wandered back toward her favorite spot in the xeriscape garden, thankful that it was still early enough this morning that the desert heat was bearable. There was one unoccupied granite bench which was still being shaded by the building's shadow and she made her way over to it while fumbling to fish her cell phone out of her pocket without spilling her coffee. She located it and dialed Regina's number as she sat down, eager to get this call completed and return to Killian's side before she became any more apprehensive about what she might learn.
"Emma, I was beginning to think that David didn't give you the message," Regina answered the call with a touch of unwanted sarcasm that immediately put Emma on the defensive.
"He gave me the message last night. Would you rather have me call at midnight? It's a couple of hours earlier out here but since he said you might be able to shed some light on this dark magic that's affecting Killian, I'm calling hoping you'll have some answers. I don't have the time or the patience for cryptic guessing games or sarcastic comments."
"I guess you had a pretty rough night?" Regina asked, sounding slightly more empathetic after Emma's snappy reply.
"Rough would be a severe understatement. It's a little hard to sleep when you're constantly watching your husband's temperature, worried that the fever might trigger another seizure or worse, start climbing again which makes the threat of permanent damage greater. And I can't exactly tell all of these doctors and nurses that nothing they're doing for him will actually do a damned thing!"
"I'm sorry, Emma," Regina responded with what sounded like genuine concern. "Zelena and I were up 'til the wee hours last night working on a potion to offset some of the dark magic. It's not a cure, but it should help until you can get Hook back here. I just need a place to send the potion and I'll get it out to you."
"Ugh… I hadn't thought about that…," Emma groaned. "Let me talk to the park ranger who's been helping us and see if you can send it to him or to his grandmother. Dare I ask what form it will be in?"
"It's a liquid. I thought it best to disguise it as cough syrup. Hopefully your pirate will be able to drink it?"
"If he stays conscious long enough," Emma lamented, "but I'll deal with that issue once I have the potion in hand."
"Okay. Let me know as soon as possible. I have a courier on standby in Portland who can get it on a flight to Phoenix this afternoon or evening but they need to know before 3pm."
"That shouldn't be a problem. What time is it there now?". Emma asked, too tired to even attempt the time zone conversion.
"It's almost 10AM here," Regina answered. "You've got about five hours to get me an address or you won't have the potion until tomorrow."
"Alright, I'll call Carlos in a minute and see what he says. I'm sure he won't mind. By the way, while I've got you on the line, how much progress have you made toward maybe getting that portal reopened or finding out anything more about the dagger and scepter? Dad said you came to get the dagger last night."
"Haven't really gotten anywhere with the portal. Nothing that Zelena and I have tried seems to be working and Yzma won't tell us anything else. All Belle has been able to figure out is that the symbols carved into both objects appear to be… Oh, what did she call them? Meso or Mezzo American?"
"And that means?"
"Something about being similar to those found in Incan, Aztec and Mayan writing and artworks. I'm not going to comment on the significance of that, but Belle said both artifacts are really old and it looks like they depict the sun, moon, mountains, some bird-like creature and some kind of animal – a wolf maybe?"
"Or a coyote?" Emma suggested, the conversation with Grandmother about tricksters and evil spirits still very fresh in her mind.
"Could be a coyote… Just looks like a dog's head with lots of teeth. There are some other symbols she hasn't figured out yet, but she's working on it. All we know is that it somehow ties into the Blood Moon, but not quite sure what it means yet."
"I'm quite sure it means something important because I've heard more mentions of the Blood Moon in the past 24 hours than I care to remember. It's tomorrow night, right?"
"It is," Regina replied, "but then it doesn't rise again until next year."
"Do you think it means that wherever Yzma was trying to go can only be visited once a year?" Emma wondered.
"Definitely a possibility. Maybe travel to that realm only aligns with ours during the Blood Moon phase," Regina theorized. "I really don't know, but we can probably worry about that later. Yzma isn't going anywhere this year for sure. Right now, let's just focus on getting this little bottle of 'cough syrup' to you and we'll contend with the rest later."
"Alright. I'll call you back with the address as soon as I talk to Carlos." Emma disconnected the call with Regina and promptly dialed the number Ranger Littlecreek had provided. She was a little dismayed when the call went straight to his voicemail, but she left a message anyway. "Carlos, it's Emma. My friends back home need an address to ship an important package to me and I was wondering if they could send it to you or to Grandmother? It's nothing illegal, I promise. Call me as soon as you can so that we can get it to the courier. Thanks."
She disconnected the line wondering why she'd added the nothing illegal comment, figuring now Carlos would be even more curious about this important package. You're losing it, Swan, she muttered to herself, mimicking her husband's intonation as she stood, retrieving her coffee from the granite bench before strolling back indoors. The whole way back upstairs to the room, she kept mulling over the information Regina had provided about the mysterious symbols on the dagger and its companion scepter. She couldn't get the thought out of her head now after Regina's mention of the dog-like symbol and the immediate connection her brain had made to the coyote Grandmother had spoken of. It was crazy to think that the two could be tied together somehow, yet at the same time, Emma wasn't prepared to dismiss them as mere coincidence. Without a doubt, there was something nagging at her, begging her to find a connection so Emma decided that perhaps she needed another set of eyes. She needed Sarah Bending Willow to view those symbols and see what wisdom she could impart.
She rapidly tapped the redial button as she stepped from the elevator, remaining in the corridor as she left yet another message for Carlos. "Emma again. Forget calling me back about the address. I need to know if you and Grandmother can swing by the hospital this morning instead? There are some things that I need you to take a look at and rather we do it in person. If you can, you know where to find me." As soon as she hit the END button, she opened up her text messages and sent Regina a question, asking if she could send detailed photographs of the dagger and scepter so she could have her Navajo friend look them over. Regina replied almost immediately to let Emma know that Belle had both objects but that she would have the librarian send pictures to Emma as soon as possible. Emma didn't elaborate any further about why she wanted to show them to Grandmother and thankfully, Regina didn't ask for an in-depth explanation of why Emma needed them. Maybe Regina figured bringing Grandmother's experience into the mystery was a good idea since they weren't really getting very many answers.
She was hopeful that Carlos would get the message soon and head here to meet with her, and with luck, Belle would message the photos to her before he arrived. She didn't really want to waste time relaying Regina's lackluster description when she needed the real images.
But now, she let it all slip from her mind as she entered Killian's room, tucking the phone away into her pocket to avoid the evil eye of the young nurse who had her stethoscope pressed to Killian's chest. The nurse stepped to her left as Emma hovered in the doorway and as she got a look at her husband's face, she could see a flash of blue. Killian was awake! Her excitement was tempered though fearing he might not be any more coherent than he was yesterday.
"Oh, Mrs. Jones," the nurse spoke up as she noticed Emma behind her. "I didn't realize you were there…" The young woman seemed slightly embarrassed although Emma couldn't fathom why she would be. She was simply doing her job and it wasn't as though Emma had announced her arrival.
"Didn't mean to startle you," Emma apologized. "I just got back from the cafeteria. How's he doing this morning?" She hoped that the nurse wouldn't pick up on her failing attempt to sound more chipper than she actual was.
"His blood pressure is back to normal – although on the high side of normal, likely due to the lingering effect of the fever. Temperature is a little lower today – 101.8, but we're definitely trying to get that down even further. Doctor ordered some additional blood tests so we'll be drawing a few more vials of blood in a bit and thankfully, that's gotten easier now that he's no longer so dehydrated."
"More blood tests?" Emma asked, barely masking her frustration. "Hasn't anything come back yet?"
"From what I've read in his chart," the nurse began, "every test we've run so far has come back negative or inconclusive in our search for what's causing this lengthy fever. The infection around his wound is responding to the antibiotics and is healing nicely, but there's definitely something else affecting him. We're testing for some less common viral and bacterial infections. Anyway, either myself or another one of the nurses will be back in a few minutes to get those blood samples for the lab…"
"As if you haven't taken enough," Killian stated, his voice barely more than a coarse whisper. "I look like I've been battling a porcupine or been impaled by shrapnel…" Emma noticed that he was able to raise his arm, frowning at the multitude of bruises that extended from his wrist to above the bend of his elbow. His wrist was no longer tethered to the bed as the fear of him dislodging the IV must have lessened.
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Jones," the nurse replied rather unapologetically. "I know you feel like a pin cushion, but we're doing our best to find out what's making you so sick. These post-surgical complications can be difficult to sort out sometimes."
"And we appreciate all that you're doing to make him healthy again," Emma said, faking a smile while hoping the nurse would hurry up and leave so she could have a conversation with her husband while he was still actually lucid.
"Be back in a jiffy," the nurse announced with a saccharine smile of her own. Her use of the word jiffy instantly drew a frown from Emma. "I'll bring the next dose of your meds, too." Killian gave a weak nod of acknowledgement as the nurse headed out of the doorway. There was still a huge smile on the brunette woman's face as she passed Emma who attempted to reciprocate the expression, but Emma just couldn't force any more fake happiness this morning. She was simply too exhausted and too overwhelmed with other emotions to bother. All that mattered to Emma right now was taking full advantage of however scant many minutes she might have with Killian before he slipped into unconsciousness again.
"Hey, you. I was surprised to see you awake, especially after the night you had…," Emma whispered into his ear as she leaned in to kiss him. She almost let out a giggle when her nose brushed against the plastic oxygen tubing stretched across the lower half of his face, but she didn't as she realized what a complete idiot she sounded like. He probably didn't even remember most of yesterday's happenings. Instead of shoving her foot deeper into her mouth, she chose to quietly take a seat next to him on the bed while trailing her fingers along his jawline which brought a lopsided grin to his lips.
"Trying hard to stay awake…," he replied, making an unsuccessful attempt to shift his position on the mattress before conceding defeat and sinking back against the pillow. "Any idea why I woke to find a bag of rocks lying atop my chest?" He unfurled his fingers to reveal the beaded leather pouch from Grandmother. Of course, he wouldn't know what it was there for.
"They're turquoise stones," she explained, "along with some other stuff that Grandmother Bending Willow insisted would help ward off evil spirits. She's convinced you're under attack, and her belief might not be too far off from the truth…"
"Evil spirits, you say? Might be a decent explanation as to why I feel so bloody awful." He paused there, wanting to spare her the details, not wanting to reveal that his lungs burned like he'd just breathed in fire and brimstone from the bowels of Hell. He didn't want her pity. He'd gotten himself into this mess by letting his own guard down.
"There's a lot more to it than that," Emma sighed, trying to figure out what to say next. How did she tell him the truth?
"That young nurse advised that I have an infection somewhere that's likely impeding my recovery."
"It's probably not quite that simple…," she stammered, desperate to find the right words. "This fever you're fighting, it may be a side effect, but not of the surgery. It's probably from the dagger."
"Swan, you're not making any sense…," he groaned. "My head hurts enough already without struggling to make sense of your rambling…"
"I'm trying to figure out a way to explain this rationally," she responded as her pent-up frustration bubbled its way to the surface which led her to simply blurt out the bare facts. "You're probably under the influence of dark magic." She couldn't judge by his expression if he was confused or just stunned by her blunt outburst, but after several seconds of uncomfortable silence, she could see the gradual changes to his facial features as he processed her statement.
"Dark magic? What sort of dark magic?"
"Unfortunately, we don't know that yet," she answered honestly as she instinctively reached down to wrap her fingers around his. "Regina said that the dagger was radiating darkness when my dad gave it to her. When you were stabbed, the piece that broke off apparently left traces of that dark magic inside you. Here in the Land Without Magic, it manifests like a sickness – like your fever. Not sure what effect it would have had on you back in Storybrooke, but at least there, I could have healed it. Anyway, Regina and Zelena brewed a potion that will help keep the dark magic away until we get home. It won't remove it completely though so we still have to get you well enough to get home and this definitely isn't helping…"
"How will she get this potion to you?"
"She's sending a courier. I'm just waiting to hear from Carlos so Regina has an exact place to send it."
"It will help take away this pain and weakness?" Killian asked, stammering through the question, grimacing as the last word crossed his lips.
"I don't know," she told him as straightforwardly as she could. "I don't know if it will take away the pain or just make it more bearable…" She stopped there as he no longer appeared interested in the answer. He'd squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath and clearly showing signs of distress. "Killian, do you want me to call the nurse back? Maybe she can get you something else for the pain?"
"Just… hurts…" He could barely mouth the two words as his breathing became increasingly faster and shallower.
Not again, Emma thought. Not another seizure. Please let it not be another seizure was the prayer on repeat in her brain. "Killian?" she called out to him, hoping she could keep him conscious and talking. "Just keep talking, Killian. Keep talking to me…" She kept saying it over and over again in her head, but it didn't seem to be working. He wasn't focusing on her voice and she wasn't sure why. "C'mon, Killian, talk to me…"
"Hurts… to… breathe…" he stuttered, his arms drawing tighter across his bandaged chest. No, this wasn't a seizure, it was something else and it had Emma a little frightened again, especially when a loud beeping sound blasted from one of the machines surrounding him (not that she knew which one). The alarm immediately drew the attention of the other nurse who'd been seated at the desk. She wasted no time hurrying to her patient, pressing what appeared to be a random button on a panel above Killian's head then pursing her lips as she must not have liked the reading that appeared on the monitor.
"What's wrong?" Emma demanded, already well aware that this probably was yet another manifestation of the dark magic, but she still needed to know what damage it was causing this time. The nurse grabbed the oxygen mask hanging near the head of the bed, flipping a switch on the same overhead panel as she eased the cannula away from his nostrils and positioned the transparent mask over his entire nose and mouth, trying to increase his oxygen intake.
"He's in respiratory distress," the nurse explained as she pressed yet another button on that panel, illuminating a blue light both on that panel as well as one outside of the room above the door. "He isn't getting enough oxygen into his bloodstream. Has he been showing any signs of shortness of breath?"
"We were just talking a moment ago, right after the other nurse left. He seemed fine, then suddenly, he started clutching his chest and saying it hurt to breathe," Emma replied as a man and another woman wearing medical scrubs entered the room behind her.
"Okay, Mrs. Jones," the nurse began as she ushered Emma toward the doorway. "You'll need to step outside for a while, but I promise you, we'll take good care of him." The helpless feeling crept back into her mind as she was backed into the corridor. First, the dark magic gave him a raging fever and now, it was affecting his lungs? Just how powerful was that dagger?
