A/N: In Early Modern English, 'mouldywarp' was the word for 'mole'.

Chapter 13

Emma shook her head. "We've been over this before," she reminded him. "It's still not going to happen."

"Emma—"

"Look. We knew going in that there was a possibility the Black Fairy was going to try to… to turn Belle. You told me before that this final battle is going to be me versus the Dark One to the death. The only thing that's changed is that it sounds like your mother has decided Belle's her first choice for that part. It doesn't matter. I'm not going to kill her and that's final.

"Then our cause is lost before the first salvo's fired."

"I don't understand," David said with an angry frown. "She's your wife. I know how you feel about her. We all do; it's the one thing I don't think anyone's doubted since you two found each other after the First Curse broke. How can you even contemplate—?"

Rumple lifted his head from his hands and whirled on the prince furiously. "Do you think I'd say it if there were any alternative?" He demanded. "Do you imagine I haven't evaluated other options? My mind can run through ten possible plans in the space it might take you to come up with one. And every single one of them is doomed to failure except…" His voice faltered again. "…Except…"

"Nobody's killing Belle," Regina said firmly. "We'll find another way."

"I told you—"

"You told us that you couldn't come up with one. Or that you hadn't come up with one yet, anyway—which isn't the same thing. But it's not just you alone against the world anymore." A sagacious smile lit her face. "You're standing shoulder to shoulder with three of the most formidable practitioners of magic currently living. Even if we can't match the power of your mother and a new Dark One combined—and I think that's debatable—we can damned well give them a run for their money."

"And in the end, it will still come down to the Savior and the Dark One."

"Not if we get to your mother first."

"Even if we can't," Emma broke in thoughtfully, "I think you're overlooking something important."

"And what would that be?" Rumple demanded. But despite the asperity in his voice, there was the faintest gleam of hope in his eyes.

Emma's smile widened. "That even when you were the Dark One, Belle was able to get through to you. Her love… What was it you said to her when she was in the hospital and you thought you were dying? That she made you want to… to go back to the best version of you? Gold, she never even met that guy and she knew he was under there before the rest of us saw it. But that part of her? You've known it all along. And if she could tap into that part of you and pull you back from the guy you'd been for… What? Two hundred years?" she cocked her head questioningly and when he nodded, she rested a tentative hand on his shoulder. Still smiling, she went on, "Even if time here is crazy, I don't think you're going to have to reach through quite that much of it to bring her back to who she used to be. And hopefully still is," she added quickly.

Her expression turned serious. "Besides, killing her would probably just make me the Dark One anyway, so how does that help?"

"That would only be a concern if you either crushed her heart or used the dagger," Rumple said, sounding a bit dazed. "Hence the need to strike before she comes into her full power. While she remains, at least, somewhat vulnerable to other methods." He hesitated. "Or perhaps, hence my perception of such a need." He brought his hand up to his shoulder to cover Emma's. "I… Rationally speaking, it still gives us the best odds. But I take your point that there's more in play here than pure reason. I-I hope you're right. And that it will be enough."

"It will be," Regina said resting her hand on his other shoulder. "It will be."

Rumple couldn't quite bring himself to smile, but he nodded as he felt the faintest glimmer of hope begin to melt the icy grip of the fear that had seized him with Lily's and David's revelations.

Breakfast in the mine was a far less orderly affair than dinner had been. There was a ragged line of children queuing for something thick and pasty-colored that Killian guessed was probably some sort of gruel, or perhaps a pottage. However, he found himself yanked unceremoniously out of said line by a husky boy a head taller and a hands-breadth broader than he. "Back of the line, mouldywarp!" the boy snarled. "Food's for those who earn it!"

Killian's hands clenched into fists and he lunged for the older boy, but a steely hand closed around his forearm. "Back of the line, brat," the overseer ordered. "And the next time you cut ahead of the others, you won't be in line at all!"

"I didn't—!" Killian snapped, roiling at the unfairness of the accusation.

The overseer pulled him closer. Then he simultaneously released his grip while delivering a stinging box to Killian's ear with his other hand. Killian went sprawling. "End of the line if you want to eat," the overseer said, towering over him. "Cause any more trouble and you'll feel the claw of the cat," his hand flicked meaningfully to the coiled whip at his side.

Killian picked himself up, rubbing gingerly at his ear. He picked his way miserably to the end of the line. None of the other children so much as glanced at him as he did so, not even the thick-necked brute who had taken his old place.

"Uh…" Lily twisted her hands together nervously, as she approached. "Uh… sorry if this is a stupid question, but…"

Rumple looked up and shook his head. "Not a good time, dearie."

Lily nodded. "Okay. Sorry." She turned to go back to the others, but then pivoted sharply. "No. Wait. If I'm right, look, c-could you just hear me out?"

Almost unconsciously, Emma leaned in a bit closer to Rumple. "Is there any way this can wait?" she asked.

"I don't know," Lily admitted. "I'm still feeling my way around all of this. I mean… magic, being a dragon, going into another world when I sleep…" She took another breath. "And that's what got me thinking. If the netherworld David and I were just in is a place we visit in our dreams… does it connect to other dream worlds? I mean, is there any way that we could use it to get into whatever dream-world the Black Fairy's got Belle in?"

Rumple's eyes widened. "I must admit that that's one possibility that didn't occur to me," he said, sitting up a bit straighter. "It's not very likely," he added. "There are a number of realms that can be reached while dreaming and, so far as I know, they are not in any way connected." He paused and then repeated slowly, "So far as I know…"

"When you put me under the sleeping curse," David had approached unnoticed, "that first time, I wasn't in that red room; it was more like a mirror maze."

"Been there, done that, got the souvenir key chain," Lily remarked wryly.

David gave her a quick smile of acknowledgment. "I had to break out of that place to get to where I could reach Snow. As you'd told me," he added, nodding toward Rumple. "Maybe, we could—"

"No," Rumple said quickly. "No. Breaking into a room is far safer than breaking into a mind. Particularly if my mother is already ensconced there." He took another breath. "We may be able to reach into Belle's dream. It's an avenue worth exploring. However, we can't go lumbering about like trolls in a flower bed."

"Maybe…" a diffident voice spoke up hesitantly from the sleeping bag behind the map carousel. "Maybe," Tia repeated when they turned to look at her, "I could help."

There was no food left in the pot when Killian's turn finally arrived. The overseer holding the ladle merely shrugged. "You'll have to make quota without it. Be faster next time."

"I was," Killian snapped. "But someone—"

"If you've strength to argue, we can raise your quota." The overseer brandished the ladle as though it was a club and Killian took a prudent step backwards. "Now get to your work crew."

Smarting from the unfairness of it all, and remembering that hand-to-hand combat skills could only get him so far without the heft and height to bolster them, he complied, mentally running through every expletive and malediction he'd ever come across in his travels—and he'd traveled extensively.

The tough who'd cost him his place in line swaggered past, ramming an elbow into Killian's chest as he did. Killian was about to retaliate, when he noticed one of the overseers watching, one hand almost absently moving to the whip at his side. Clearly, fairness was not the order of the day in this place. Killian swallowed his anger and shoved his balled fists into his pockets. He started when one fist came into contact with something he'd completely forgotten he was carrying. He'd have to be more careful from now on, he told himself. The stoppered vial was glass, but its walls were thick enough; it was probably sturdy enough to withstand most accidental jolts and jars. Should it splinter, though—and should any of those splinters pierce through his trousers and into his flesh… He'd have to take better precautions. He'd have to guard the tube with his life and use its contents only when absolutely necessary.

Because he certainly didn't have enough dreamshade for all the overseers and their toadies.

"I don't know for sure," Tia admitted. "I've never tried mind-speech with anyone whose powers aren't like mine. Nobody human, anyway," she amended. "But there might be a way. If it was just a short message. Nothing complicated. And I don't think it's a good idea to try having a conversation," she added. "My power's a little strong for that."

"A little… strong?" Paul repeated, one eyebrow crooking upwards.

Tia nodded. "Has Belle ever been in mental contact with anyone before?" she asked.

Rumple shook his head slowly. "There are spells that can pull the thoughts from out a person's mind, but in general, there's not much of a mind left once they've been cast. It's not something I've tried on anyone—certainly not Belle."

"It's not anything you ever taught me either," Regina said. "Nor anything I ever needed. Once I learned how to rip someone's heart out, I never had any difficulty interrogating anyone."

"That's about what I thought. My people's form of mental speech is intense. It's part of how our magic is a bit different from yours; it's not really a spell so much as a stream of raw power." She took another breath. "I can… I can try to brush her mind briefly. Sort of, I guess you could say, 'yell something in passing'. She might still have a splitting headache when she wakes up, but she'll understand me. A short message anyway."

Rumple had been frowning during her explanation. He lowered his eyes briefly, then raised them and met Tia's directly. "And you can guarantee that your communication will cause her no more distress than that?"

"I can't," Tia admitted. "I can tell you that it probably won't, but I can't promise."

Rumple closed his eyes for several long seconds. When he opened them again, his expression was bleak, but when he spoke, his voice was steady. "Let's see whether we can get by without such methods," he said. "But if what you suggest requires any preparations on your part, I'll ask you to make them." He wiped his palms on his suit jacket and then shoved them into his pockets. "What you suggest is still better than… than what I stated earlier. And while I'd prefer to avoid either option, if your proposal has a chance of success, I'll choose it over the alternative."

"It won't come to that," Emma reassured him.

Rumple gave her wan smile. "Well. We can all certainly hope not."

Hades, lord of the Underworld was growing irritated. He suspected that Fiona was stalling him while she strengthened her position. It wasn't lost on him that, if the Black Fairy were to win the Final Battle, then all realms would fall under her dominion. All realms, including his.

He wasn't able to leave the Underworld, and thus, while he could bluster at her through her mirror, he couldn't engage her directly. But perhaps, there was something he could do. Fiona had promised to send Zelena's child to him, once the girl had grown up enough to have cause to linger in his realm instead of, what was euphemistically termed 'moving on'. There was a flaw in that premise, though. Fiona had promised to arrange matters so that the girl's 'unfinished business' would be with Fiona herself. Then, Zelena would follow her daughter to the Underworld and remain there, so long as Fiona lived. It was a neat way to keep him from siding with the heroes, he had to admit. Either he lent his power to hers in the Final Battle, or he remained neutral on the sidelines. And then, once the battle was over, if Fiona stood victorious… She'd move against him. He had to admit that, immortal deity though he might be, if her Dark power overwhelmed all other lands, when she turned her attention to his, the outcome might not be to his liking.

But, his eyes widened, suppose that the child came to his realm by some other means? Suppose that when Zelena followed, he struck a deal with her, asking for her to remain with him on some pretext, in exchange for his helping her—and her companions—against the Black Fairy? All he had to do was ensure that her daughter would not move on from the Underworld, and Zelena would never leave. And while 'unfinished business with Fiona' was one solution to that dilemma, it was far from the only one.

A soft chime sounded, interrupting his musings and he looked up to see a nervous denizen waiting in his doorway. "Forgive me, Lord Hades," the woman murmured, her eyes downcast. "You had asked for some refreshment at this hour?"

Hades smiled as he took in the clay bowl she clasped with both hands, bearing an assortment of fruit. "Just set it on the table," he directed, conjuring one into existence with a negligent wave of his hand. "And see to it that I'm not disturbed until I summon you. Or whoever's on duty," he added with a pleasant smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

The woman nodded and moved forward swiftly to obey his direction. Then she genuflected and scuttled away even more swiftly.

After she'd gone, Hades approached the table. Examining the fruit bowl more closely, he reached in and picked up a pomegranate. Yes, he thought with satisfaction. Yes, this would do rather nicely…

"Uh…" The others looked up, a bit startled. Paul had been sticking the background enough that they mostly forgot he was around. Even when Lily had tried to get his thoughts on possible strategies, he'd demurred, pointing out that his experience with magic amounted to 'twisting a knob left-and-right a half-dozen times or so.'

"What is it, Mr. Wilson?" Regina asked briskly, but with a pleasant smile.

"I guess, when a body isn't sure how to handle spells and fairies and scouting snakes, he casts about looking for what he can handle. How fixed are we for supplies? Because, if we're going to want supper—or breakfast—we did leave a whole mess of non-perishables back on the ship."

"We did, didn't we?" Regina remarked. Her smile grew a bit warmer. "I suppose we're not used to having the luxury of bringing provisions." She thought for a moment. "Well, magic is certainly capable of furnishing the basics, but I'm not sure how advisable it is to be casting it here if we can avoid doing so. There are ways to detect when a spell's been cast and, since the Black Fairy knows we're coming for her, I'd rather not tip our hand more than we have to."

"If she's got Killian," Lily spoke up, "then she already knows we've arrived, right?"

"I'd think so," Rumple nodded.

Lily nodded back. "Okay. In that case, I don't think it'll hurt anything if I go back with Paul. Two of us can carry more, especially if one of us is a dragon. And since she knows we're here, we don't have to mess around with invisibility spells."

Rumple frowned. "I'm not sure I like the idea of broadcasting our whereabouts quite so blatantly, but you make a good point. This town was almost certainly created for our benefit. We're headquartering in what's probably the most obvious location, perhaps second only to Granny's. If my mother wished to confront us now, one would think she'd know where to find us."

"I can shield you," Zelena spoke up. "Somewhat." She tugged at a thin golden chain that she wore under her blouse. "The six-leaf clover of Oz," she said. "It functions like a glamor spell. It won't make you invisible, true, but it will allow you to take on, say, the appearance of a large bird."

"And what about me, please?" Paul asked politely.

Zelena smirked. "Well, I've only the one clover. But the glamor effect extends to whatever the user is wearing. So, if you were mounted on her back while she was in dragon form and she was to use the clover…"

"She'd be wearing me," Paul's eyebrows shot up.

"I believe so." She shrugged. "Well, I've certainly never transformed myself into some other creature while carrying a rider, but to my mind, it should work."

"Guys?" Emma looked from the witch to Rumple, to Regina. The latter two nodded slowly, though both were frowning.

"It's possible," Rumple admitted. "Though I think you'd better test it first."

"In here?" Lily asked. "I mean, no offense, but when I change… there are a lot of breakables here. Let's just say that 'Bull in a china shop' is probably safer than 'Dragon in a pawnshop'.

For answer, Rumple gestured to a door in the wall to his left. "The basement. I think you'll find it large enough. But mind the support beams."

"I'll join you," Zelena said. "Remember, when you're under an invisibility spell, you can still see yourself. I think a third party will be in a better position to judge the efficacy of the clover."

"That and… I don't really know how to use it," Lily pointed out.

"We'll take care of that."

"Uh… Does this mean we're… okay, now?" Lily asked.

Zelena's laugh had a brittle edge to it. "I don't know if I'm willing to go that far. Say rather that I accept your argument that we've a better chance of getting my daughter back with a dragon on our side. And if you're about to go gallivanting off on some side trip, then it's to my benefit to ensure that you're well equipped for the journey."

The others watched as the three started down the basement steps. It wasn't even ten minutes later that they returned. "It works like the charm it is," Zelena said with a satisfied smile. "Bring back whatever you can, mind. It may not be feasible to keep going back and forth."

"Got it."

"Good luck," Emma said.

Paul grinned. "I'll never turn down any of that! We'll be back as quick's we can."

Emma was still reeling from what Gold had asked of her. After Lily and Paul left, Robin murmured something about wanting to get his bearings and patrol the perimeter and departed as well, Regina beside him. After a moment, Zelena left as well.

"It feels sort of strange," Tia said softly. "Staying here, I mean. But there's not much else to do."

"We could always do a patrol of our own," David suggested, but Tia shook her head.

"There's not really much point, is there? I've been pushing out with my mind and, for now, we're the only people in the area. But if it makes the others feel better to be doing something, there's no real harm in it. And maybe they just want to talk without so many ears about."

"Would you know what they're talking about?" Emma asked.

Tia shrugged. "If I put my mind to it, probably. But, I try not to eavesdrop; it's bad enough when I accidentally pick something up and think I can help, and then as soon as I open my mouth, I get that… look." She shook her head. "The one that says, 'Get out of my head, Freak'. And," she added, "unfortunately, that thought usually comes out forcefully enough that I can't tell myself I misinterpreted; nine times out of ten, it's an exact quote." She smiled bitterly. "The tenth time usually isn't printable."

"We're all adults here," Emma grinned, as much in reassurance as in relief. She wasn't totally comfortable with Tia's abilities, but she'd had her fair share of exposure to people whose magic wasn't fully under control. She'd even been in that category herself, not all that long ago. And while she wasn't anywhere close to open enough to tell her new friend that she wouldn't react that way, it did help knowing that Tia wouldn't intentionally try reading her thoughts.

Tia tilted her head in Emma's direction. "So, you're saying you've lost the imagination to fill in the blanks?" she asked, absolutely deadpan.

David guffawed and, a moment later, Emma followed suit.

A slight vibration on the floorboards drew their attention to Rumple's approach. "I…" He took a breath. "About what I advised you earlier," he said, locking his eyes on Emma. "You… You all know that I wouldn't ask it if… if…"

"If you didn't think it was necessary," Emma nodded. "I know. But it won't be."

"I hope not," Rumple said heavily. "But if the Black Fairy's ploy is successful, I-I need you to believe that it will be necessary. That it will, in fact, be our only option. You must be prepared for that eventuality, or we will fail."

David nodded. "We understand," he said. "I'm sorry for before. It was just a shock hearing it from you after…"

Rumple sucked in his breath and gave a jerky nod back in response.

Emma clapped both hands to his shoulders. "I'm not giving up on finding another way," she said firmly.

"And I truly hope that you do," he rejoined. "But if not…"

Emma closed her eyes and nodded reluctantly.

Lily made the flight back to the ship in what was probably record time for her. She couldn't be certain, of course; even without the clover charm, her wristwatch—and everything else she was wearing—disappeared when she shifted. Come to think of it, she wondered why Paul was still clinging to her back if, as Zelena had said, she was 'wearing' him. Shouldn't he be, well, wherever her clothes and accessories ended up? She was probably overthinking things, but she was still curious, and she was frowning when she flew low enough for Paul to slide off of her, before she shapeshifted in mid-air and dropped lightly to the deck.

"Okay," Paul smiled. "As I recall, we stowed most of our things in the hold, but there might still be a few bags under the b—" His eyes widened.

Lily turned to look in the direction he was facing and gasped in alarm. "The bed!" she exclaimed. "It's gone!"

Rumple had retreated to the back office, his drop spindle in hand. Spinning had always calmed him, at least, until Zelena. Thanks to the spindle, it now did again. On the whole, he thought that Emma understood, now. The threat that they were facing was simply too great.

Perhaps, he mused, as he reached for another piece of straw to feed into the spin, this was why he was useful. Not because of his fears—despite what the captain had told him earlier—nor his wits, but for the ruthlessness that had been stamped into his character by centuries of Darkness. It was all well and good to hope for the best, but one also needed to be prepared for the worst. And sometimes, the only way for Good to win was by doing something unspeakably ruthless.

He thought he'd finally explained it to her in a way she could accept. He'd been honest about the threat. And he'd been—almost—totally open.

Because there was another way to stop his mother, but he knew exactly how the others would react if he suggested it. It probably was their best chance. But only if they didn't see it coming.

So, when he'd told Emma that he needed her to believe that if Belle should become the Dark One they would only have one option, he'd been speaking the truth. He did need her to believe it.

But he had every intention of executing a different plan, as soon as the opportunity arose.

During his years slaving on Captain Silver's ship, Killian had learned to submerge his emotions behind an expressionless mask, numb himself to his situation, and resign himself to his lot until he could change it. Servitude and hard labor hadn't broken him then and it wouldn't break him now. But that didn't mean he needed to stick his neck out, especially when he couldn't assume that his crew would back him. Right now, he was too new, too untested, and—if the morning's episode was any indicator—the overseers were waiting for him to step out of line so as to make an example of him.

So now, he swung his pickaxe, and focused on the rock. He wondered how long it would be before they gave up on looking for an excuse and just laid into him.

"You useless little cur!"

Beside Killian, Shom cried out as a lash coiled about his leg, leaving a thin line of blood behind when it pulled free. "We need every speck of that ore! Gather up those chunks!"

'Those chunks' proved to be a number of small, dark, pebbles, each perhaps the size of one of the miniature bits of chocolate in the cookie dough ice cream of which several members of his crew were fond.

"Here, mate," Killian dropped his pick and knelt next to the smaller boy. "I'll help y—argh!

It wasn't the 'cat-o-nine', he told himself. Just the five-stranded boy's cat that Silver's first mate had used on those crewmembers below the age of sixteen. 'Just' the boy's cat, but it still felt like a lance of fire. "You!" the overseer snapped. "Who told you to stop your digging? Get back to it or I'll—"

A dark streak suddenly erupted from a pile of sand and, like a dart, pierced the overseer's fleshy calf. Then it dropped to the ground and slithered off. The overseer slapped a hand to his lower leg in what was likely a reflex. His eyes tracked the snake as it retreated rapidly. Another overseer hurried over.

"Lie down," he urged. "Stay calm. If it was one of the regular ones, it'll be hours before you have to worry. We can… can…" The first overseer's leg was already beginning to swell.

"I-I can't move," he whispered. "Can't…"

"Stay with me," the second said. "We'll get you help." He whirled on Killian.

"You," he snarled. "Was this your doing? Who are you that the snakes are so sensitive to your distress?"

Killian regarded him coldly. "I did nothing," he replied. "Neither now nor immediately prior. Perhaps the serpent recognized that and sought to appeal an unjust punish—" He grunted as he found himself lifted bodily off the ground and slammed into the mine wall.

"Pravin, wait!" Two more overseers had drawn closer. "You know our orders. Any of the workers who show any hint of magic are to be brought to her."

The second overseer, whose name seemed to be Pravin nodded slowly. "So be it," he said, with an unpleasant smile. "You've an appointment with the Black Fairy, brat. But first? I think a few hours in the box will take the fight out of you." He nodded to his companions. "See to it." He turned back to his fallen companion and gasped.

"Matcho's dead!" he exclaimed. "Dead! Someone get that little troll-dropping out of here before I—"

Killian didn't hear the end of the threat. The other two overseers were already hauling him down the tunnel, yanking him upright when his shorter legs stumbled on the uneven ground.