A/N: Apparently as my anxiety rises with the whole global pandemic going on, my creativity increases as well, because it's been a HOT minute since I had only two months between updates. A gigantic thank you to my beta, spartanguard, for putting up with a shit ton of my whining and lack of confidence during this chapter. 3
As always, enjoy, and reviews feed the muse!
Chapter 11: The Witching Hour, Interrupted
The Blue Fairy stared at the Dark Forest that loomed before her, brown eyes roaming the black leafed trees with a mixture of contemplation and annoyance.
Six months. It had been one-hundred and eighty two days since she attempted to enter the forest at David and Snow's command. The plan—relatively simple while also extremely complex—was hastily thrown together a mere three days after they'd sent their past selves back to their own time. Blue would take advantage of Maleficent's weakened state by breaking through the Dark Fairy's protection barrier, immobilize her with squid ink, and transport her back to Misthaven. That was the simple part. The complex aspect of the plan had been what they'd do with Maleficent once they had her. With no known way of killing her, the intent was to restrain the Dark Fairy until they discovered how the twins were supposed to defeat her by keeping her incapacitated with squid ink. It would have required constant surveillance and an unlimited reserve of the magical substance—something King Triton had promised to supply the Charmings with—but it would have given them their best shot at mitigating any future threats from Maleficent before the prophecy could be fulfilled.
She hadn't been able to breach the protection barrier, however. The entire plan had fallen apart at that development, and left them with nothing but their current strategy of Blue constantly monitoring Maleficent's actions from outside the forest along with over 1,000 soldiers from Misthaven, Arendale, Camelot, Narnia, and Wonderland.
Blue scowled as the memory of that day replayed in her mind. By all accounts, particularly her own knowledge and the very laws of magic, she should have been able to enter the Dark Forest with how frail Maleficent was. Even from miles away and through a forest filled with evil spirits and banshees, she had sensed how much energy the Dark Fairy was extending in order to put herself in a deep, restorative sleep. If any other magic user—including herself—had focused that much of their power into a task, it would have weakened their protection barrier spell.
Yet the one Maleficent cast around the Dark Forest had remained unbreakable.
It just hadn't made sense. The laws that governed magic, especially fairy magic, were unchangeable and rigid. Her protection barrier should have been vulnerable to a breech. Blue had spent days racking her brain for why it had happened before the five kingdoms' troops arrived, and had come up with no viable reason for her not to be able to enter the forest under the circumstances. And it wasn't the first time that an imbalance between Blue and Maleficent's magic had presented itself. While the two fairies had only met a handful of times over the course of their long lifetimes, Maleficent always seemed to come out the winner. Her spells were more tightly constructed than Blue's, her magic stronger, and the Dark Fairy never reached the point of being so exhausted from using her magic that she could no longer call on it.
She'd never admit it to another living soul, but it irritated her to no end that she'd never been able to overpower Maleficent. She was Reul Ghorm, after all—first born and leader of the Fairies, the most powerful of their kind—and yet at every turn, she was no match for the Dark Fairy's magic.
"M'Lady?"
Pulled from her turbulent thoughts, Blue turned to find the commander of Arendale's forces standing a few feet behind her. Captain Wolford was a giant of a man, his broad and heavily armored figure standing nearly seven feet tall, and he had flaming red hair with a matching beard that stretched all the way down to his sword belt. He was known to be strict yet not unkind to the soldiers beneath his command, and he, along with the other four captains, had shown her nothing but respect since their arrival six months ago.
Of all the humans she knew, he was one of the few—aside from the Charming clan and their immediate friends—who didn't annoy her upon sight.
"Yes, captain?"
"You wanted to be notified when Tinkerbelle returned from the castle. She has, and is currently waiting for you in your tent."
Blue blinked in surprise. Tink had left for the Charming castle only a few hours ago, and she honestly hadn't expected the other fairy to return until the following morning. A messenger had been sent five days ago to alert them about what had happened to Princess Erin and Captain D'Harper, and Tink was translocating back and forth to keep Blue updated on the situation.
Perhaps the speediness of her trip means a way to contact Hades has been found.
"Thank you. I'll head there at once."
Captain Wolford departed with a brief incline of his head and, with one more annoyed glance over her shoulder at the hulking Dark Forest, Blue moved in the opposite direction the captain had gone in. As she walked amidst the carefully laid out tents that had been the soldiers' homes for six months, she couldn't help but let her mind wander back to the enigma that was the Dark Fairy.
While she could remember growing up on Avalon alongside Tink, Tiger Lily, and almost every other fairy in existence, Blue had no memories of Maleficent, or Morgana, being there. That alone had always striked her as odd, but there could be a simple explanation for it. Avalon had been a fairly large land mass, and perhaps—for some reason unknown to Blue—Maleficent and Morgana had simply grown up in a different location than the rest of them. It would certainly explain the other differences between the two fairies and the rest of their kind. Neither one of them had ever carried a wand, had wings, or seemed to need fairy dust in order to call upon their magic. Maleficent had her staff, of course, but that was highly different than wielding a wand. There was also the matter of their other forms. Maleficent and Morgana could use transfiguration, turning into a dragon and raven respectively, whereas all Blue and the other fairies could do was minimize their current forms.
It was perplexing, and more than a little disconcerting when Blue added in the oddity that a weak Maleficent had been able to put herself into a restorative sleep while maintaining a protection barrier, but she also knew it was a mystery that wouldn't be solved until their homeland was found. At the very least, the Sisters of Avalon—the oldest fairies in existence who were currently wherever the mythical island was—could answer those questions one day.
Reaching her small, militaristic tent that was situated at the center of the Misthaven enchampment, Blue nodded in greeting to the soldier standing watch before entering and immediately coming to a stop.
Tinkerbelle was sitting in her usual place at the small, round table that lay to the far right of the tent, her right hand clasped around a goblet that was raised half way to her mouth and hazel eyes blown wide with fear. What sent a chill down Blue's spine, however, was the distinctive, purple haze surrounding the blonde fairy.
Squid ink!
Tink's eyes darted to the right, and without a moment's hesitation Blue snatched her wand from where it was safely tucked into her belt and spun in the direction the other fairy had been trying to look. As she did, she could feel a stillness seep throughout her entire being and into her very bones, and without her consent her body froze.
"Hello, Reul Ghorm."
Blue stared impassively as her gaze flickered from the purple haze now surrounding her raised, unmoving arm to the person standing before her. Maleficent, dressed in a long-sleeved black gown with amethysts glittering across its circular neckline, smiled serenely as she let an empty vial tumble from her hand to the rug that covered the tent's floor.
"It's so nice to see you," the Dark Fairy purred, her blue eyes alight with satisfaction. "Do scream for help if you feel inclined to do so. You'll be wasting your breath, of course—I've put a silencing spell on your accommodations—but I would so love to hear you beg for something that won't come." When Blue remained silent and continued to stare at her, Maleficent hummed in surprise. "My, my… I must admit, I wasn't expecting you to have such a spine."
Anyone else in her position would have panicked, allowing Maleficent to see their fear and even let it dictate how they handled the situation. But the Blue Fairy was not just anyone. She was a highly feared creature herself in many circles, and had spent decades facing down the likes of Zelena, Regina at the height of her thirst for revenge, and Rumplestiltskin while he was the Dark One. She would not tremble before the Dark Fairy. Maleficent couldn't hurt her anyway—fairies weren't able to kill each other, or do any lasting, permanent damage to one another. The squid ink, while effective at its job, would eventually run its course. All Blue had to do was keep her talking until that happened.
"What are you doing here, Maleficent?"
"Oh, I thought it was time to come and have a little chat," Maleficent replied, moving until she was within arm reach of Blue. She studied her frozen body carefully from head to foot, one red painted nail gently tapping against the wand that was suspended in mid-air before adding, "After all, we have been neighbors for the last six months."
"And yet this is the first time you've graced us, or anyone but your minions, with your presence during that time."
"Is it?"
Blue hadn't been expecting that as a response, and for the briefest of moments she was taken aback. Maleficent, ever intune when she had prey within her grasp, smirked.
"You haven't left your castle since your run-in with Emma's past self. I or one of the other fairies would have sensed it," she reiterated, though even Blue could hear the wane of confidence in her own voice. Would she? She should have been able to sense if Maleficent left her castle, but she hadn't known the Dark Fairy was lying in wait for her until it was too late. Even now, standing face to face with her and having undeniable proof that she was in the same room as her, Blue still couldn't feel the other fairy's unique presence.
The Dark Fairy tsked as she gave Blue's wand one final tap with her finger before lowering her arm. "My dear Reul Ghorm, there were things created eons before your birth that allowed me to bypass that."
She didn't know what these things were that Maleficent spoke of, but the very idea that there had been something hiding in the shadows and undermining her and the other fairies' efforts caused frustration and rage to bubble within Blue's chest. It effectively made their sacrifices to ensure that someone was always on alert and intuned with Maleficent's presence worthless. How many hours had they lost watching the Dark Forest? How much energy had each of them expended in order to keep a round the clock eye on her?
And it had all been for nothing.
"Is that how you managed it this time too?" Blue snarled through gritted teeth. "You used that same spell or item to leave your castle without any of us noticing?"
Maleficent laughed. "No, that was for another endeavor I partook in. You have Morgana to thank for this little adventure. After a… well, after a rather unpleasant episode between myself and another fairy, she became obsessed with finding a way to shield our kind's presence and magic from one another. She managed to succeed—with that insufferable Merlin's help, of course—which explains why I've never been able to locate any of them since that night. Luckily for me, Morgana was insistent on writing everything down, and I just happened to stumble upon it purely by accident a few days ago."
"How wonderful for you."
"Quite. It made getting to you far simpler than I had initially thought it would be."
"And now what? Are you planning to corrupt King David's own troops for another invasion of Misthaven? Use me and Tink to get past the protection barrier somehow, or as bartering chips?"
Tutting, Maleficent reached up to carefully caress Blue's cheek with the back of her fingers.
"As always, you're thinking too simplistic," she whispered. "What I have planned for the Charmings, and you, is far more intricate and... satisfying. But, alas, I have other pressing matters to attend to right now, so you'll have to wait to find out what those are." Eyes hardening and flashing from blue to gold, Maleficent added, "I'll see you soon, impurus sanguis."
Before Blue could react to the odd choice of words Maleficent had thrown at her in their mother tongue, the Dark Fairy flicked her wrist. A cloud of black smoke quickly obscured Blue's vision, and within seconds the familiar feeling of being translocated swept over her frozen body.
Smirking once the Blue Fairy had disappeared, Maleficent turned her attention to the tent's other immobilized occuptant.
Tinkerbelle was still at the table with a goblet raised halfway to her mouth, the purple haze that denoted the usage of squid ink just as bright around the other fairy as it had been when Maleficent first flung the magical substance at her twenty minutes ago. It wouldn't be much longer, however, before it wore off, and she needed to act quickly to ensure the rest of her plan went off smoothly.
Moving until she stood directly across from where the silent fairy sat—and taking great satisfaction in the way Tinkerbelle's eyes widened in fear as she did so—Maleficent held her right hand up with the palm facing the tent's ceiling. A cloud of black smoke momentarily obscured it, leaving behind a bright, orange powder once it had dissipated.
"Do you know what this is?"
Tinkerbelle's eyes flickered to the finely grained substance, studying it for a long second before bringing her gaze back to the Dark Fairy's face. When she didn't respond, Maleficent gasped in faux surprise.
"Oh, my apologies! I forgot about that pesky spell I cast on you."
Not wanting the blonde fairy to warn Blue as soon she opened the tent's flap, Maleficent had also cast a silencing spell on Tinkerbelle. It had allowed her to not only catch Blue by surprise but ensured her verbal torment of the other fairy wasn't interrupted.
"Well, there's no reason to lift it. I do find your voice rather grating, I must admit." Chuckling, Maleficent continued, "In case your tutelage beneath Reul Ghorm has been lacking—as I'm sure it has—this is sleeping powder. Very potent, I might add. It'll put you to sleep so I can attend to business elsewhere without you sounding an alarm once the squid ink runs its course, but it won't keep you asleep indefinitely. Unfortunately. Do say hi to the Charmings for me whenever you wake up."
Without another word, she leaned forward and blew the sleeping powder into the Green Fairy's face. Not waiting to see it take effect, Maleficent turned and carefully dusted what remained of it from her palm before translocating herself from the tent.
She had an attack to oversee.
Emma yawned, the back of one hand covering her mouth and eyes scrunching closed as the other turned a page in the massive book she'd been reading for the last three hours. The contents of it weren't sleep-inducing—although tales of Hades' exploits and how the Underworld operated weren't exactly the most enthralling subject she'd ever read—but more so the current circumstance she found herself in was what was making her so tired.
She'd gone to bed only seven hours before, exhaustion from days of endless research and interrupted nights because of nightmares catching up with her in a perfect storm. She hadn't even technically made it to bed of her own volition. Before passing out, she'd been in her study going over the large map of their realm that was spread across her desk, marking what locations Regina had already searched while attempting to find entrances to the Underworld. One minute she was marking a cave on the northern side of Narnia off, and the next she had come to briefly as Killian carried her to their bed.
Not that she had slept for long. Four hours after falling asleep at her desk she'd bolted awake, her heart pounding and gasping for breath as the remnants of yet another nightmare played through her mind—this one centered around Henry and how she'd given him up for adoption.
After making sure Killian and Hope were still fast asleep, Emma had quietly left the bed and gotten dressed. While she would normally wander the halls or find a study to sit and drink in, the disappearance of her daughter and Eric had altered how she spent her nights after having a nightmare. It was no longer a time of self loathing and frustration, but of more research.
Which is how she found herself here, in an isolated study on the east wing of the castle at three in the morning, pouring through a book about the God of the Dead by a lone lantern.
It had been six days since Erin and Eric fell into the portal, and they were still no closer to finding a way into the Underworld or how to contact Hades. Every book on the subject of either the realm itself or its ruler had been brought to their own library from multiple kingdoms—something that Glowerhaven and Narnia had only agreed to when Belle made the personal promise to look after the books—and while they'd managed to go through half of them, they hadn't been overtly useful. Most only contained stories of the origins of the gods and the various myths Hades had been a part of, with exact locations to the Underworld either brushed over or nonexistent. Merlin had managed to find a book in the deep recesses of Camelot's library that was promising. It was a journal kept by a long forgotten priest who had written about hundreds of ancient openings to the Underworld, many of which were either in Misthaven or Narnia, and Regina had been steadily checking each one. Not that any of them had panned out. Every location she had visited thus far was a dead end—literally. Either the landscape of the area had changed so drastically over the course of the centuries that the entrances the priest had described no longer existed, or they did but the cave abruptly ended 300 feet into the earth.
The only thing they knew for certain—thanks to an obscure line her father had found in one of the books they'd brought back from Narnia—was that the Underworld was beneath them. Or beneath every realm, really.
Rumple had described it as a fixed pocket realm. They were rare, so much so that he nor Merlin had ever actually heard of one existing, but they apparently did. Because death and the afterlife was a constant thread in any kingdom, civilization, or religion, the same Underworld resided beneath every realm even when two realms—like Misthaven and Wonderland—weren't physically connected. It was an immovable point of space that could, in theory, be accessed from any realm without traveling through a portal, though that did make getting there easier.
And they'd certainly tried that. It had been a long shot, using a bean to get to the Underworld, but Snow had refused to leave any stone unturned in their quest to get there to confront Hades. It hadn't worked, of course.
She just wanted to find her daughter and Eric. She wanted to know they were safe, and more importantly, she wanted them home. She tried to stay positive for Hope's sake, but the longer they went without finding a way to contact Hades, or even a remote clue as to where he'd sent the kids, the harder that was becoming. It was even starting to wear on her own mother, who was the absolute pinnacle of hope.
When the words before her began to blur, Emma reached for the coffee she'd commandeered from the kitchen earlier. As she did, the study door—which was located directly across from where she sat—burst open.
"Emma!"
Startling at the abrupt intrusion and shout from Will, Emma's hand knocked the half empty goblet over and sent its lukewarm contents spilling across the white table cloth that covered the table.
"Shit!"
Jumping up, she quickly grabbed the book she had been reading—one of the ones Glowerhaven had reluctantly loaned them—and held it protectively to her chest in a move Belle would have approved of as she looked towards the door. Will was leaning heavily against the doorframe, his white shirt half tucked into his pants with his boots haphazardly laced, and his chest was heaving as if he'd just ran a marathon. The reprimand that had been on the tip of her tongue for startling her and nearly causing her to ruin a Glowerhaven book died instantly, however, when she got a good look at his face.
It was pale, almost too pale, and the urgency in his brown eyes caused dread to seep down Emma's spine.
"Will? What's wrong?"
"We… have to get to the Jolly," he gasped, wincing in pain as his right hand moved to his side. "Maleficent's making her move."
Sitting at his ancient yet immaculately clean desk, Davy Jones carefully transcribed the names of the souls he'd charted to the edge of the Styx that day in a large, leather bound logbook.
It technically wasn't a requirement of his position as a ferryman. Keeping a log of who boarded his ship and when they did wasn't important—the only thing that mattered was he escorted them to Charon's boat or signed them to his crew if he had a need for them. But there were some aspects from his mortal life that were hard to let go of. For nearly a decade, he'd been a harbor master in the sprawling seaside town of Aigَean. He'd maintained order at the docks and kept adequate records for the crown, and names—of both ships and their captains—was how he had done so. Even when he lost that job due to his drinking and turned to a life of crime after the death of his wife, names had been just as important. Who was safe to fence stolen goods to, who made easy marks, and who not to cross in the criminal world.
Now he simply did it out of a long, ingrained habit. Although tonight it was less habit and more to distract himself from the disapproving looks his oldest son had given him all day.
Liam had been furious when he returned to the Flying Dutchman four days ago and discovered that his father had refused to help Killian. Davy had done his best to explain why he couldn't bring his living son or anyone else to the Underworld without breaking his oath to Hades, but Liam, just as his younger brother had done, didn't want to hear it. They were just excuses he'd said, and yet another way in which Davy Jones had failed as a father.
Neither of his sons were wrong in that regard—three hundred years with an eternity more stretching before him had made him realize that—but he truly was protecting Killian. Or trying to. While Hades did forbid living souls from entering the Underworld, it still happened. It was rarer now than it had been in the days of old with the closing of most of the entrances, but every now and then a determined mortal managed to find their way down there. The entrance law, however, was a carefully guarded secret, and was something no one could learn about until it was too late. That was why he had refused to help his youngest son.
He would have gladly risked his position as ferryman to bring Killian to the Underworld so he could speak with Hades, but it would have meant his son could never leave the realm of the dead. And that was a fate he, even as a father who had failed his children in the worst way, couldn't impose upon his flesh and blood.
"You're a hard man to find, Davy Jones."
The familiar voice cut through his thoughts, and Davy looked up from his logbook to find Hermes standing across the room. The messenger of the gods was clad in a knee-length, brown chiton that exposed his muscular, right shoulder. Simple sandals adorned his feet and a flat hat rested atop strawberry blonde curls. A pin—ornately designed in the shape of two intertwined snakes that was made of emeralds—was on his left shoulder and held the chiton in place while alabaster wings extended from his back, the delicate feathers spanning nearly half the length of the cabin. With almost boyish features and a strong jawline devoid of the facial hair that every other male occupant of the pantheon wore in some form or another, Hermes appeared to be no older than a mortal man who had just seen his twenty-fifth winter.
The blue eyes that looked out unto the world, however, revealed he was much older than he looked.
"I'm only hard to find for those who don't know where to look," Davy replied calmly while slipping the quill he'd been using back into its ink well. "And last I checked you, as the messenger of the gods, always know where to look."
Lowering his impressive wings, the young god made his way across the cabin until he was standing a few feet from Davy's desk. "Only when you're here on the island," he responded evenly. "You know that not even I can locate you while you're collecting souls."
Davy conceded that point with a nod of his head. The Isle of Souls was a waypoint, a final stop for all ferrymen before they escorted the souls in their charge to Charon. When not there, they were in the Inbetween—the space between worlds that was used to travel to the mortal world and collect the souls waiting for them. The only time his ship was accessible to anyone—including a divine being—was when he docked in the island's harbor.
"You're lucky, then. I only just returned from Charon and was leaving with the morning tide."
Hermes shrugged. "Less luck and more me watching the harbor for your ship's sails for the last few days."
That caused his eyebrows to raise slightly. "Why would the messenger of the gods be waiting for my return?"
"Because I need to speak with you about your granddaughter."
Davy's heart thumped hard against his chest at Hermes' words, and he quickly leaned forward in his chair. "So it's true. Hades tethered her to a portal? Do you know where she is?"
It made sense if he did. Hades and Hermes were related—uncle and nephew, in fact—and were rumoured to be extremely close. Hermes was, after all, the only divine being other than Hades and Persephone who could enter and leave the Underworld at their leisure. If Killian was right and Hades had been the one to open the portal, then Hermes would undoubtedly know where he'd sent Erin and Eric. It wouldn't be the same as getting his son in front of the Lord of the Underworld, but perhaps Davy could give him answers.
Hermes blinked in surprise. "He... did. How are you aware of that?"
"My son summoned me a few days ago and told me what had happened," he explained. "Killian wanted me to bring him to the Underworld so that he could speak with Hades."
The look of surprise on the young god's face instantly shifted to one of hardness.
"Did you tell him about the entrance law?"
Davy huffed in disbelief at the authoritative tone being leveled at him. "Of course not. Like every ferryman before me, I took an oath on the Styx to never discuss anything remotely concerning the Underworld or the specifics of my position with a mortal—particularly the laws of Hades' domain. I abided by that oath to every degree while talking with my youngest son, as well as his brother when he learned I had refused to help."
Hermes contemplated him for a long moment, as if trying to ascertain the truth of his words, before nodding.
"What reason did you give him?"
"I told him Hades forbade living souls in the Underworld, and that if I were to help in any way I'd lose my position."
"Well neither of those is a lie. Although living souls can enter, Hades despises it, which is why he enacted the entrance law. And you most certainly would be replaced. Do you think your son will try to find another way?"
Davy didn't have to think about the answer to that question before he was nodding.
"Without a doubt. Killian is a stubborn and determined man, but more than that, he's a loving father. If there's a way down there, he's going to find it."
"Well that would certainly complicate matters if he did," the young god murmured to himself.
"Complicate matters ho—" Cutting himself off, Davy shook his head. No, that wasn't important. Finding out where Erin and Eric had been taken was all that mattered. "Where did Hades send them?"
"He brought them to the Underworld."
It was said so matter of factly that all Davy could do upon hearing the words was to stare at the messenger of the gods, his jaw dropping in complete shock. As that gave way to anger, however, he shot out of his chair and slammed both palms on his desk.
"He did what?!"
"Jones…"
"Why would he do that?" the ferryman yelled, uncaring if any of his crew heard the exchange. Let the entire damned island hear him. "Tethering her to a portal was bad enough, but to send them to the Underworld? What in the entire pantheon of gods was he thinking?"
Holding his hands up in a placating gesture, Hermes replied, "It was something that was beyond his control. Trust me when I say it was the last thing Hades wanted to do."
"Beyond his control?!" With his hands curling into fists, Davy scoffed. "He's the ruler of the Underworld. A god! What could possibly be beyond his control?"
"I'm not allowed to say."
When Hermes said nothing more, Davy continued to stare at him, the ferryman's jaw ticking as he clenched it against the rage boiling inside him.
He didn't have a relationship with his granddaughter. What he'd done to Killian and Liam three centuries before in his desire to be rid of the pain Isabella's death caused was an assurance that he never would. Erin Jones would forever despise him—hate him, even—and the only interaction he'd ever have with her was when she summoned him. And he knew that would only happen under the most dire of circumstances. Yet Davy couldn't stop himself from becoming protective of her. He was certain she would be appalled by his display of emotion, even scoff and claim it was all an act to garner forgiveness, but it didn't stop him from being angry on her behalf. After all, he hadn't always been the man who was willing to abandon his sons in the dead of night. Family had meant everything to him once upon a time, and the part of him that he had long ago buried beneath rum and crime had slowly been rising to the surface since he watched his oldest son's soul board his ship.
Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and uncurled his fists before sitting back down.
"What about the entrance law? Isn't every living soul who enters the Underworld subject to it no matter the reason behind their entry?"
"Technically, yes." At the hardening of Davy's face, Hermes quickly continued, "But there is a way around it."
"How? Hades swore that law on the Styx. It's unbreakable, even by him."
Hermes, clearly choosing his words carefully, said, "There are some things in this world that can't be hindered—even by a vow made upon the Styx—and there's something they can do that would allow both of them to leave."
"And what does this… something… have to do with me?"
"In order for them to do it, they have to have a guide. Someone who is connected to one of them by blood who can lead them through the Underworld. Which is why I'm here."
While he wanted to jump at the chance to help his granddaughter—the selfish part of him wanting to prove to Erin he was a grandfather in more than title—Davy immediately saw the flaw in that plan.
"Hermes, I can't. I'm physically barred from entering the Underworld beyond the Styx's outer shore."
"Yes," the messenger of the gods replied calmly, "But there is someone else aboard your ship who shares the princess' blood."
Well he hadn't expected that. Liam was Erin's uncle, and he'd be more than willing to release his eldest son from his contract in order to aid her.
As soon as the thought came to him, however, a memory swept its way to the surface of his mind.
He stood on a secluded beach not far from Aigean, his blue eyes watching the waves as they slowly rolled across the sand like a lover's caress beneath the light of a full moon. It pained him to be here, to be this close to where he'd lost his wife, but there was nowhere else for him to go. He was allowed to step onto dry land in the mortal world one day every ten years—a token of generosity from Hades—and he doubted his sons would want to see him after he callously abandoned them. Not that he even knew where they were. So, he came here, to the little beach that was only half a mile from where his last happy memories lay, and spent his one day. Alone.
"Davy Jones."
Startling, he whipped around to find a woman standing five feet away from him. She was strikingly beautiful. Her features were soft, the alabaster coloring of her skin almost glowing beneath the moonlight, and her slim figure was clothed in a simple, white gown with bell shaped sleeves that fell to her wrists. Hair as dark as the night around them cascaded to just past her shoulders, and the hazel eyes that looked upon him were filled with an eternal sadness.
"Who are you?" he asked warily as his hand fell to the sword strapped at his side. He couldn't be killed—his predecessor and Hades had assured him of that—but there was something about the woman that told him she could still harm him if she chose to.
She smiled softly, though he noticed it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Who I am isn't important. What I must ask of you is."
Scowling, and with his hand still tightly gripping the pommel of his sword, Davy took a step forward. "I don't converse with anyone whose name I don't know," he growled. "Particularly strange women who already know my name."
Clasping her hands in front of her, the woman seemed to contemplate that for a long moment.
"I am known to many as the Mother Fairy, so that is what you may call me."
"Mother Fairy? What kind of a name is that?"
"It's... more of a title," she conceded. "My given name has long been lost to the tides of time, and when the day comes that you must speak of this meeting, the name I gave you is the one that will aid you."
Eyes narrowing, it was Davy's turn to scrutinize her. He'd heard that fairies were beautiful creatures with eternal youth, and while the woman standing before him certainly fit that criteria, she was missing one key feature that was also used to describe them.
"If you're a fairy then where are your wings?"
"Not all of us have them."
Conceding that he didn't actually know enough about fairies or their lore to know if that was true or not, he nodded. She didn't seem to be lying, just speaking in riddles.
"And how do you know who I am, or where I could be found?"
Another smile, this one more of amusement, crossed her beautiful face. "I was told you would ask questions. Very well. I am a magical being, Davy Jones, one who has been alive as long as your master has. Every particle of my being is on the pulse of the universe, and I know everything. I know who you were before taking up this mantle, of the action you took in doing so that you regret, and I can see the truth of the heart that still beats beneath the power flowing through your veins. As for how I found you…"
Unclasping her hands, a cloud of white smoke enveloped the right one, and Davy couldn't hide the sound of surprise that escaped him as it dissipated to reveal a narcissus flower. It was Hades' symbol—an irrefutable, physical sign that said more than the woman standing in front of him holding it ever could on the matter.
Whoever she was, she'd found him because Hades had helped her to, and that could only mean what she had to ask him was, essentially, a command from the Lord of the Underworld.
"What is it you require?" he asked, his hand finally dropping from the pommel of his sword to hang by his side.
"You will be collecting a soul tomorrow, and I ask that you bring him onto your crew instead of escorting him to Charon."
Davy frowned. "Why?"
"Because there is a prophecy that will one day come to pass, and he will… play a part in its aftermath. But in order to do so, to ensure he doesn't move on before that happens, he can't cross the Styx."
While it was certainly an odd request—in 300 years as a ferryman no one, including Hades, had ever asked him to indenture a soul to his ship—it was perfectly within his power to grant it. The only stipulation Hades had was murderers couldn't be made members of his crew. But why would she be making this sort of request? What prophecy was she speaking of and, more importantly, why would Hades allow it to be made?
"I can't speak of why this is being done or tell you about the prophecy," she said, seemingly reading his thoughts as they flickered across his face. "All I can tell you is that there is a reason, and one day you will come to understand what it is."
He didn't particularly like the vagueness of that, but there was nothing he could do about it. Especially if Hades was involved.
"What's the name of the soul?"
"He'll be marked with the cause of his death, and you will know him when you see him." Crouching down, she gently laid the white narcissus on the sand before returning to her modest height and adding, "It's imperative that you do not, under any circumstances, relinquish him from his contract before the appropriate time. You will be tempted too, but you must remain steadfast through the temptation. Do you understand?"
Davy nodded, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders, and the Mother Fairy smiled sadly once again.
"For what it is worth, I am sorry."
A cloud of white smoke enveloped her frame before he could ask what she meant, and in the blink of an eye the ferryman found himself alone once again on the secluded beach.
He'd discovered the meaning behind the Mother Fairy's cryptic last words the following day when his oldest son's soul walked across the deck of his ship, the black lines of Dreamshade still evident on his arm. For the first time since taking the position, he had felt true sorrow at a sailor's passing. Liam had only been twenty with an entire lifetime before him, and it had all been cut short by a deceitful king.
He had never wished more for the ability to kill a mortal than in that moment.
Liam was clearly the soul the Mother Fairy had talked about being a part of a prophecy, though Davy still wasn't sure howthat would happen with his son being dead. Or even what prophecy he was to play a part in. There were literally hundreds of them in every realm.
Was this what she had been talking about, though? Was this the reason she, and Hades, had asked him to make Liam a part of his crew?
Pulled from his thoughts by Hermes calling his name, Davy shook his head.
"Does him being Erin and Eric's guide have to do with whatever prophecy the Mother Fairy spoke of?"
The messenger of the gods sighed—whether in annoyance or regret Davy couldn't tell—though he did note Hermes didn't seem surprised by the question.
"No, it doesn't. I know she told you not to release him under any circumstance, but Jones, things have drastically changed with Hades being forced to send your granddaughter and Captain D'Harper to the Underworld. The prophecy she spoke of concerns Princess Erin and her brother defeating a great evil, and it must be fulfilled at all costs. Hades can pick your granddaughter as the soul who gets to leave the Underworld in order to ensure that happens, but he doesn't want to subject Captain D'Harper to that kind of fate."
"Which circles back to this thing that Liam is needed for. What exactly am I releasing my son to do?"
"It's called The Gauntlet," Hermes replied. "It's a test, the very one Orpheus took, and Liam will be their guide through it. If they do it and pass, the entrance law becomes null and void and both of them can leave. If Liam isn't released, they can't go through it, and Hades will have no choice but to choose your granddaughter as the one who leaves."
While the anger that had been raging within him only moments before slowly ebbed away at that revelation, the ferryman couldn't help but frown.
"Why haven't I ever heard of this test?"
"To my knowledge, only six people know about it—seven now, including you—and that's how Hades and Persephone prefer it to be."
"So when they complete it they both can leave."
"If they do, yes."
The emphasis on 'if' had Davy narrowing his eyes. "And how many before them have done that?"
"None," Hermes said with a sigh.
"Bloody hell."
"Obviously I can only stress the importance of you releasing Liam from his contract. I can't force you to do so."
Ah, and there was the crux of the entire matter. While he was beholden to Hades, the souls Davy signed to be part of his crew were not. They were beholden only to him as the captain of the Flying Dutchman. Hermes nor the Lord of the Underworld could force him to release someone, or even take them from the ship until their contract had expired. It was one of the 'balancing' aspects of the entire afterlife system that Hades had implemented eons before.
Leaning back in his chair, Davy ran a hand through his hair. He didn't know a lot about his granddaughter, but what he did know was how important Captain D'Harper was to her. Any fool with eyes could see that. He'd already made one selfish action that destroyed the lives of those he loved long ago, and he refused to do it again. While he had adhered to the Mother Fairy's instructions for three centuries—even amidst his youngest son's fury—he was willing to do anything if it helped both Erin and her captain leave the Underworld.
He'd just have to endure the Mother Fairy's anger for the rest of eternity. Returning his gaze to the young god, Davy nodded resolutely.
"I'll do it."
Telepathically sending the last of his commands to the Jolly Roger, Killian sighed in exhaustion and began climbing down the ladder that led to his cabin.
He'd been awoken barely twenty minutes ago, the sound of his and Emma's bedchamber door banging against the wall as Will threw it open causing Killian to reach for his sword while still half asleep. It had taken him almost a full minute to deduce that not only was there no threat to his granddaughter, who remained asleep through the loud noise, but that Will was speaking to him.
"Maleficent... has attacked Camelot."
Killian shook his head, hoping that what he had heard was still a byproduct of the sleep clinging to his brain.
"Pardon?"
"Malefi—bloody hell, mate." Leaning heavily against the door frame, Will added breathlessly, "Don't make... a man who just... ran all the way from the... library... repeat 'imself."
So he hadn't misheard. Tossing his sword to the end of the bed, he quickly stood and reached for the shirt he had discarded onto a chair only five hours ago.
"When did it happen? How do we know?"
Despite the severity of the situation, Will shot him an exasperated look and, after taking a few deep breaths to try to get his breathing under control, answered. "No more than... thirty minutes ago. I was in the library when Percival appeared."
"Appeared?"
"Translocated," Will corrected with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Merlin... translocated him from the battle when... Maleficent showed her face. Nearly gave me a heart attack."
Killian shot his friend a confused look as he slid his brace on. "What were you doing in the library?"
"Research."
"In the middle of the night?"
"Couldn't sleep."
Well that was a sentiment he could understand. "Have you notified Dave?" he asked while slipping into his boots.
"He... was me first stop. Told me... to wake you and Emma, and have... you prepare the Jolly for a flight." Glancing to the other side of the bed, Will frowned as he realized for the first time since barging in that Killian and Hope were the only ones in the bed. "Where is Emma?"
"The study on the eastern wing, the one with that clock that scares Hope," Killian replied without looking up from his boots.
He hoped his best friend would just assume Emma was there for the same reason Will had been awake and not question it. Not that he'd be lying if he had to say she couldn't sleep. There would just be a very large part he'd be omitting, and thus far he'd done his best not to directly lie to their friends and family about her nightmares. Of course, by telling Will exactly where to find her, Emma would undoubtedly realize he'd followed her when she left their bedchamber hours before. Yet Killian found himself strangely unbothered by that possibility. He'd wanted to hold off on confronting her until after she'd spoken to Erin and overcome her nightmares. Killian's resentment at being lied to, however, was only festering, and with their daughter still missing, waiting to have that talk with Emma was clearly off the table. Her finding out that he'd followed her was just going to be the perfect opportunity to have it.
Will, clearly oblivious to his best friend's internal feelings, simply nodded.
"I'll get her and bring her to the ship. Can you wake Liam? David and Snow are handling the others."
"Aye."
Without another word, Will turned and ran full stop from the room as Killian leaned over the bed and carefully picked up a still-sleeping Hope.
After leaving Hope in Elizabeth's care, he and Liam had raced to the ship. They immediately began preparing her for flight as soon as their boots hit the enchanted deck, both men working in perfect harmony to cut the process time in half. By the time the last member of the War council arrived, all Killian had to do was toss the vial of pixie dust he kept on hand at the sails and they would be airborne. While everyone else migrated to his cabin in preparation for their strategy meeting, he had stayed behind to ensure there were no kinks in the initial ascent and plot their aerial course to Camelot. It was a three-day journey to Camelot by land, and although flying would drastically reduce that timeframe, it was still going to take them eight hours to reach the attacked city. It wasn't ideal, and they had no way of knowing what they were walking into—if Merlin had managed to stave Maleficent off after translocating Percival, or if she'd defeated him—but they had to try. Gods knew they owed Arthur at least that much after all the times he'd come to their aid.
Stepping off the ladder, Killian found himself in a very crowded cabin.
There were eleven people in total spaced throughout the room, including himself. Snow, Elsa, Regina, and Arthur sat around his desk, two additional chairs from one of the twins' cabins obviously having been brought in for the occasion. Henry sat atop an old chest that lay to the left of the ladder, one hand resting on his right thigh while the other pinched the bridge of his nose wearily, and firmly planted in a standing position between the door and Killian's desk was David. Liam was on the bed with his mother and godmother on either side of him while Will, with his arms crossed over his chest, stood leaning against the same wall the bed butted up against.. Rumple, ever the outlier when they had these types of meetings, had found a position in the corner of the room where the large bay window met that side of the ship.
In three centuries of being aboard the ship—first as a lieutenant, then as her captain—he couldn't remember there ever being this many people in his personal quarters at once.
"Sorry it took me so long," he said by way of greeting as he moved to take the empty seat behind his desk. "While you don't have to worry about hitting an object with air travel, there is still quite a bit of navigation to go through."
"It's fine," David assured him. "Will was just filling us in on exactly what Percival told him before collapsing."
Settling heavily into his chair—with the adrenaline from his abrupt wake up and needing to prepare the ship wearing off, exhaustion was beginning to creep into his every muscle—Killian looked to his left where his mother-in-law sat.
"Is he okay?"
Snow nodded. "He had a substantial amount of blood loss, but Doc assured me before I left the castle that none of his wounds were fatal and he would recover. He just needs to rest."
That, even more than Maleficent mounting an attack against Camelot, unnerved Killian. Percival was one of the best swordsmen in any realm. He'd witnessed the knight's skill in a handful of battles and seen firsthand Percival's ability to take on multiple men at once without their swords ever coming close to his armor. If he'd been wounded—and substantially by the sound of it—he couldn't imagine how brutal the battle with Maleficent's men had been.
"I can not believe she did this!" Arthur suddenly shouted, his fist banging against the wooden table as the anger he'd clearly been keeping in check exploded. Not that Killian could blame him for the outburst. Maleficent had attacked his castle in the dead of night and wounded not only his most loyal knight, but gods knew how many others.
"I'm going to gut her when I get my hands on her!"
"You'd be dead before your sword even made it close to her," Rumple responded dryly, which earned him a withering glare from the King of Camelot.
"Not helping," Liam muttered at the same time Will said, "Yeah, pretty sure he doesn't particularly care about that littledetail right now, mate."
Holding up his hand to silence any further discourse, David looked to Regina.
"What are your thoughts?"
"Well, we have three major problems—"
"Only three?"
Regina and Belle both shot Will a look that instantly had him clamping his jaw shut and shifting uneasily against the wall. Killian couldn't really blame his best friend for reverting to sass at a time like this. The entire family, save the children, were running on very little sleep as they searched for a way into the Underworld, and sleep deprivation could cause ones' mouth to run away from them as easily as it could make them grouchy. And it certainly wasn't the first time it had happened. Liam had sassed Belle three days ago over a book he couldn't locate, and just yesterday he had witnessed Elsa—the most even tempered of them all—snap in annoyance at Neal for chewing too loudly at dinner. They were all on edge, and Killian didn't see that changing anytime soon with Maleficent's attack.
"As I was saying," Regina began, turning her attention back to David, "We have three major problems that need answering right now. The first being why Maleficent would attack Camelot. Correct me if I'm wrong, Arthur, but you've never had any personal discourse with the Dark Fairy."
"No, I haven't."
"You might not, but you are our alley," Henry pointed out. "Honestly, that's reason enough in her mind to wage war against someone."
Emma shook her head, the half falling ponytail she'd pulled her hair into at some point after leaving their bedchamber swaying with the motion. "Even then, there's always a reason behind her actions, like when she attacked Glowerhaven fifteen years ago. She did that to force our attention and troops there while the bulk of her army was actually headed to Misthaven."
"That's a really good point," Elsa murmured. "How do we know she isn't doing that again?"
"We actually broached that very topic at the War Council twelve days ago that you had to miss," Belle replied. "Maleficent isn't one to employ the same tactic twice, and I honestly don't think that's her plan this time."
David nodded. "And from what Percival told Will, it sounded like she had her entire army descend on Arthur's capital. Even so, I sent instructions to my generals around the kingdom with Snow's birds to increase patrols in their areas."
"Could she be trying to take control of Camelot like she did with Orkdalen, the Viking's kingdom?" Liam asked. "It is the closest kingdom to ours, and if she did, it would effectively cut off any support we might need from Arendale except by sea."
"Aye, it's certainly the reason I'd attack Camelot under the circumstances," Killian remarked, though as soon as the words left his lips he tilted his head in thought. "Although… perhaps not. The last reports we had of Maleficent's army, they numbered 2,000. While that was more than enough to lay siege and take control of Orkdalen, which was a relatively small kingdom, Camelot is much larger."
"I also have 10,000 soldiers that aren't stationed in the capital," Arthur added. "She'd need that same amount, or realistically double, for a successful take over of the entire kingdom."
Throwing her hands up in defeat, Snow leaned back in her chair and sighed heavily. "Then we're right back where we started. If she isn't trying to take over the kingdom, or doing it to distract us from some other plan, then why attack Camelot? What could Maleficent possibly gain from creating an enemy in Arthur?"
"Perhaps she was after something," Rumple interjected.
Regina frowned in confusion as she glanced at the former Dark One. "Like what?"
"I'm not sure what it could be," Rumple replied with a shrug. "With as long as Merlin has been alive, she could have been after any number of things he would have kept in the castle. But it's the only thing that makes sense when you dismiss all the other possibilities."
A long, low groan sounded from the right side of the cabin, and was quickly followed by the unmistakable sound of a head falling back against wood. "What if it's the Dark One's dagger?" Will asked, his tone very much that of a man who wanted to be wrong.
Emma sucked in a surprised breath as a sense of foreboding settled within the other occupant's stomachs at the White King's question. It made sense. After Emma's past self had wounded Maleficent six months ago, Merlin had taken possession of the still enchanted dagger. He had told them he was placing it in his personal vault—a place whose location was unknown to anyone but himself and not within Camelot's borders—but if he hadn't and brought it back to Camelot, that would definitely explain Maleficent's odd decision to attack the kingdom. Because their confrontation with her six months ago wouldn't have stopped Maleficent's drive to get her hands on the dagger and continue her plan of becoming the new Dark One.
"Do we know for certain what Merlin did with it?" Henry asked, directing the question at Arthur. The King of Camelot shook his head.
"I never saw him with it in Camelot, but that doesn't mean it wasn't there. I can't think of a single reason for him not to have placed it in his personal vault, though."
Regina shot Arthur a look that was both a mixture of perplexion and a scowl. "No offense, Arthur, but while I greatly respect Merlin and bow to his limitless knowledge, he does sometimes make stupid decisions without any rhyme or reason behind them. Case in point—not moving the enchanted scale of a mermaid from the location Morgana knew about, which led to her casting her curse and kick starting The Year That Wasn't."
"Not to mention placing the Dark One's dagger in a protected cave that ended up being not that protected since Maleficent managed to break in," Liam added. "Plus being the one who left the instructions on how to reach the Isle of Souls out for Jafar to just stumble across."
"Whether Merlin placed the dagger in his personal vault or kept it in Camelot, there's nothing we can do about it now," David said while crossing his arms over his chest. "All we can do is hope that he didn't, and if he did, we'll cross that bridge once we reach Camelot. Regina, you said there were three problems? What are the other two?"
"The obvious ones," the former Evil Queen responded dryly. "How did Maleficent leave her castle without Blue noticing—because she would have translocated to the castle and told us about it immediately if she had—and how was she able to get through Merlin's protection barrier to attack Camelot?"
Killian blinked in surprise. In the chaos of the last thirty minutes, he hadn't even thought of those issues.
"Well, the immediate answer to both of those is she shouldn't have been able to," Rumple responded, taking a few steps forwards with most of his weight resting on his cane. "Even if she left her castle while the Blue Fairy was asleep, Blue would have sensed it. And we all know the reliability of a protection barrier. No magic, or magic user, can enter one unless a piece of their magic is within it when its cast, or the caster themselves makes concessions in the spell."
"Like how Merlin made it so that you and both my moms can't translocate to Camelot, but you are still allowed to walk through the barrier."
"Precisely."
Elsa sighed. "So if Merlin didn't create a loophole for her—which I think we can all agree that he wouldn't—then a piece of her magic had to be within Camelot when he created the barrier."
"It wouldn't be the first time," Belle murmured. "She managed to do it with ours, after all. What worries me more is why Blue didn't warn us."
"That is the more troubling of those problems," Snow agreed, her brows furrowing. "Especially since she's been camped outside the Dark Forest for the last six months to prevent this very thing from happening."
Looking to Rumple, David said, "Return to the castle and update Neal on everything, and then go to the encampment. We need to find out why Blue didn't catch this."
"And how do you want Neal to proceed with the situation once we know?"
"However he sees fit," the King of Misthaven replied. "He's in charge while Snow and I are gone. And stay at the castle once you've done that. On the off chance we're wrong and Maleficent is using this as a diversion, I want someone with magic there to protect the kids since Emma, Regina, and Elsa are coming to Camelot."
The former Dark One nodded. "I'll send word as soon as I find answers."
As the cloud of purple smoke obscured Rumple's form, David's shoulders sagged with exhaustion.
"As for the rest of us, we should try and get some sleep. We've no idea what we'll walk into when we reach Camelot, and every one of us needs to be prepared for a prolonged battle if Maleficent is still there. I know we're all still worried about Erin and Eric, but we have to focus on this threat right now. Elizabeth and the others will continue researching while we deal with Maleficent."
As Killian went to open his mouth, his father-in-law added, "And I'll be taking the first watch. I'll wake you in three hours. No arguments."
All he could do beneath David's hard stare was nod as the rest of the room began to disperse to their sleeping quarters.
An hour later, Emma found herself lying awake on her back next to a sleeping Killian and, for the first time in six months, it wasn't due to a nightmare.
She'd asked Will as they ran to the Jolly Roger earlier how he'd known where to find her. After all, she'd chosen that study to hide in because it was out of the way and she was less likely to run into another sleepless family member who might ask questions. By Will's own account of how long it had been since Percival appeared in the library, he wouldn't have had time to eliminate her being someplace else before searching that area of the castle.
"Oh, Killian told me where you were."
Heart stuttering at those words, Emma's foot missed a step, and she would have stumbled down the marble staircase they were rapidly descending if Will hadn't quickly reached out and grabbed her arm.
"H—he did?"
"Aye," Will replied once they continued their descent, his hand remaining firmly around her elbow as they did. "When I noticed you weren't in the bedchamber he told me where to find you."
Her son's godfather had been so intent on getting them safely down the staircase and to the Jolly Roger as quickly as possible that he hadn't noticed the way her face paled. Killian shouldn't have known where she was. He'd still been asleep when she left their room hours before. And, while they had always been fairly good at being able to sense when the other one walked into a room even when they weren't looking, knowing exactly where the other one was when they were in another part of the castle wasn't something they could do. She couldn't even do that as a magic user. The only explanation for him knowing exactly where to send Will was he had actually been awake when she left, and that he'd subsequently followed her.
She didn't have to ask herself why he would do that instead of speaking to her.
While she hadn't mentioned the nightmares to him—first by choice, then against her will—Killian knew she was having trouble sleeping and that she wasn't talking to him about it. If the roles were reversed, she absolutely would have followed her uncommunicative husband. It caused the guilt that had been permanently lodged in her stomach for the last four months to tighten, however. He shouldn't have to secretly follow her around to make sure she was okay. He should be able to just ask her that question, or even inquire as to what was wrong.
And yet, because of whatever magical ailment was keeping her from talking about her nightmares and hearing things that weren't really said, he couldn't. As far as he was aware, Emma was simply not coming to him when she had a problem, and he was trying to respect that decision while also keeping an eye on her.
A tear fell from the corner of Emma's eye and slipped into her tangled hair.
They couldn't keep doing this dance for much longer before Killian confronted her. In fact, the lead up to that confrontation had already begun. It hadn't gone unnoticed by her that he'd been emotionally distant over the last six days, at least when they were alone. Most of that was due to their daughter and Eric being missing and all avenues of finding a way to reach Hades coming up empty, yes, but there was an unspoken tension that had been mounting between them. Even earlier, when everyone had left the cabin and it was just the two of them, she'd noticed the way Killian looked at her as they climbed into bed. His gaze had been filled less with worry and more hurt; a lingering glance of judgement and accusation telling her he was teetering right on the edge of not being able to remain quiet anymore.
And Emma honestly didn't know what she was going to do when that happened.