Note: I keep thinking I'm about to wrap up. This is getting very close to the end, however. I think I'm through the tricky part. I've known how the next chapters go almost since I started this (hopefully, those won't be famous last words). Forgive any errors. I mean to do some serious rewriting and tidying up when I get the chance.

This chapter's title is a continuation from the last chapter's poem, Fire and Ice.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Mulan was a country girl. Most of the people in her home village were farmers. Machinery wasn't something she thought about, especially not when it came to battles. Belle was the one who saw how water pipes could be used against a monster of fire. Which meant Mulan wasn't the one who should be running through flames trying to figure out where fairy dust was stowed. That was Belle.

But, Belle was the only one who could fight the Dark One for more than two seconds and still be alive. So, lucky her, she got to do that while Mulan concentrated on not being burnt to a crisp andmaking use of her distraction.

Instead of thinking about machinery, she concentrated on simpler things. Dwarves could fight but they weren't warriors. They had picks, not swords. The fairies may have added magical protections, but they hadn't posted guards of their own here. According to Gaston, when he'd tried to sneak in to see Rumplestiltskin when he was imprisoned here, the only fighters he'd seen had been Rumplestiltskin's guards.

The machinery was placed in whatever way was most functional, not to protect it from thieves or attackers. One end would be diamonds, the other end would be dust.

Mulan just had to hope she'd picked the right end.

X

Gaston watched as Belle ordered Mulan to try and find the dust. After a moment's hesitation, he turned and ran in the opposite direction. He didn't know much about machinery, but this place was probably (he thought, he hoped) like a mill. If the fairy dust wasn't at the end Mulan was running towards, it should be at this end. He thought. Maybe.

The truth was, he didn't know much about mills either, but he had set up an ambush for an Ogre in one once. If you could call it an ambush when you were setting it up while running as fast as you could with an Ogre ten feet behind you. Well, it had worked. But, Lord Maurice hadn't been happy about how much flour was ruined after what was left of the Ogre went through the millstones. They'd needed that food desperately. The Ogres had destroyed most of the harvest, and their remaining supplies were going fast with all the refugees who had fled to Maurice's keep. If thing's had been different, Lord Maurice would have been forced to send them on. But, by then, with the Ogres surrounding them, living long enough to die of hunger would have been a victory in its own right.

And then, suddenly, the Ogres were gone. The trade routes opened up again. They still faced a lean winter, but no one starved. It was another thing they owed Belle.

A mill was made following the flow of water that turned the mill stones and ground the grain. He didn't know what had turned these—water, wind, magic, or the dwarves themselves—but he could see something of the lines it had to follow.

Or the lines he thought he remembered before Belle set the place on fire. Oh, well, it made a good distraction. So did her decision to fight Rumplestiltskin. Except for it being suicide.

Gaston had told Belle he'd never appreciated her intelligence when they were betrothed. Maybe he was wrong about that, and she was really dumb as a post. She'd just about have to be to do this.

And brave, he thought. Gaston would rather face an army of Ogres naked than fight the Dark One, even if he had an entire army at his back.

Something burning cracked and fell. Gaston jumped to the side, almost getting out of the way in time. He tore off his outer tunic before the flame could spread and threw it into the fire. His arm hurt, but he didn't think the burns were too bad—right now, anything that wouldn't kill him in the next two minutes wasn't worth paying attention to.

The flames almost kept Gaston from seeing the cave wall before he crashed into it—almost. He skidded to stop and looked around. He saw burning machines—more burning machines—collapsing bits of burning machines—

And a sack that stood untouched in the inferno.

Yes! Gaston thought as he ran towards it. A brief glance showed him the dust, glittering like starlight inside. It weighed next to nothing in his hands. He grabbed it, quickly knotting the mouth of the bag to keep it from spilling, and ran back to Belle.

Or tried to. He had covered half the distance when a burning rafter came crashing down on him.

X

Belle didn't know if bringing up her hand to block the curse Rumplestiltskin was throwing at her would make a difference. The ball of green light shattered about two feet from her face, scattering in a welter of emerald sparks. The fragments, when they hit stone, changed into snakes, slithering off into the burning rubble. When they hit the flames, the fire seemed to twist itself into long tendrils of fire that began to languidly weave their way through the inferno. Wherever they went, they left a long trail of glittering green behind them, like a snail's trail. The other flames seemed to shy back from it for a few seconds, before jumping on it like a pecking hens viciously attacking one of the flock who stumbled and went down. When the fire touched it, it erupted into a wall of jade colored flame.

She hoped that was what he wanted to happen and that it would be useful to her. You could never tell with Rumple. Sometimes, he really was too clever for his own good.

If she was right, all this was just a distraction. He was trying to give her a chance to do whatever it was she thought she was doing. Without killing her.

Belle pulled out a clay globe. It wasn't even magical, just something they'd used during the Ogre War. It was some clever goat herders who had come up with it. When wolves were preying on the flock, the shepherds baited traps with rancid urine—wolf urine, if they could get it, dog urine if they couldn't. An Ogre drenched with the stuff had wolves and feral dogs hounding him for days. Even better, the smell was bad enough ordinary humans could smell the Ogre coming. Belle had always hoped the Ogres found the smell as bad as she did.

She threw it at Rumple.

X

Rumplestiltskin had paid attention to the Ogre wars, the one he'd fought in and all the wars since. He knew the many weapons, some more desperate than others, that had been used to fight them. His eyes widened as he saw what Belle had brought out.

She wouldn't. . . .

Oh, but she would. Belle, without a doubt, was the most wonderful, glorious, intelligent woman who had ever lived.

He flicked out a small spell, deflecting the globe.

This wasn't harm.

This was glorious and wonderful and the best joke he'd had since the fairies thought they'd beaten him at last—but it wasn't—harm.

The globe broke all over Cora. Only a bit, alas, splattered on Hook (not that it kept the pirate from cursing like, well, a sailor).

Rumple gave the fire snakes he'd created a slight nudge. They were mostly an added distraction, a bit of flash and color to increase the distraction, though they also had the ability to keep the air breathable and minty fresh.

He wondered if Belle had expected his serpents to act like ordinary snakes—like any predator in the wild catching an interesting scent and giving in to the urge to investigate—or had she just hoped the horrible smell would distract him too much to fight?

It didn't matter. He turned his attention to Cora as the snakes descended on her, eating away at the odor. Unfortunately, that was why he saw Kate and two of the men Belle had brought with her, Evard and Wulf. It looked like they had coordinated their attacks, though they'd all managed to find cover in different parts of the room. Evard and Wulf had bows. Kate was hastily tying a handkerchief around a clay sphere of her own. She put the ends on fire and threw it before it could burn her hand while the men let loose their arrows.

Protect.

Rumplestiltskin grabbed Cora. They vanished in a puff of mauve smoke as the weapons hurtled towards them.

X

Gaston fell back into his hound form, grabbing the sack with his teeth as he rolled out of the way of the falling beam. It didn't really work, but the beam cracked and fell apart as it hit his iron hide.

If Cora or Rumplestiltskin were looking anywhere in his direction, there was no way they'd miss him. He could only hope that carrying a year's supply (or so) of magic for an army of fairies would give him some protection. He ran towards Belle and had nearly reached her when a cloud of mauve smoke appeared right in front of him.

Uh-oh.

X

Rumplestiltskin materialized just a few feet away from where Cora had been standing, making sure Cora had her back to Gaston. Unfortunately, it meant the witch could see her would-be attackers. She hurtled a curse at them. The trio were frozen. Literally. Turned to ice.

"Not bad, dearie," Rumplestiltskin said, watching the rivulets already flowing down them from the heat of the flames. Skin. That would be skin. "I was just going to turn them into whatever it was Belle threw at you." No, not good enough. She would think that was a joke, not an alternative. He groped for arguments that didn't sound like arguments. Let me curse them, transform them. Let them fly about the world for a thousand years before coming home, safe, at last. . . .

Cora flicked her fingers. The cold fire snakes fell off her, taking the stench with them. She glared at Belle, standing just a few feet from them. "Kill her," Cora ordered as Gaston, finally realizing what he was supposed to do, swung the bag he was holding in his mouth at them.