I'm going to preface this chapter with a couple of warnings. First, this chapter ran really long. There's a lot of action that takes place in a short span of time so rather than make it too choppy, I just allowed the sections to flow. Second is a trigger warning for a mildly violent scene that closes the chapter. It's not graphic but if it isn't your thing, the events will be explained in the next chapter.

So, we're going to pick up right where we left off: Emma has just gotten an earful about her family history from Mr. Gold and took possession of the items her mother sold to the shady pawnbroker years earlier. She's anxious to see what's there, hoping she'll discover what drove her mother away.


Her first cup of Granny's super-strength blend coffee was nearly drained before Emma remembered the primary reason she'd come here - food. An angry growl from her gut served as a staunch reminder so she immediately flagged Ruby over to the corner booth in the rear of the diner and ordered a plate of scrambled eggs and wheat toast with butter. Ruby delivered the order to the kitchen and returned to warm up Emma's coffee while she waited for her breakfast to be prepared. The bubbly waitress tried to make a little bit of small talk, but it was obvious that her deputy friend was quite distracted.

Emma had wasted little time perusing her mother's long-hidden belongings. The moment she'd slid into the isolated booth, she had set the two unexamined books to the side, deciding to delve into the mysterious cardboard box first. She anxiously peeled away the layers of clear packaging tape, wishing she'd brought a pocket knife with her because the butter knife on the table wasn't particularly helpful. Once the tape was finally off, she unfolded the flaps, eager to discover what lay within.

Leaning over the box to get a better view of the contents, she could now see that they were mostly unsurprising. There was a porcelain figurine that didn't appear particularly valuable, two large crystals that appeared to be either quartz or amethyst (if she had to guess) and some jewelry. She'd not gotten very far in her study of crystals and the role they played in witchcraft but she knew they'd likely been highly prized at one time due to their quality.

She lifted both crystals from the box, realizing that they accounted for most of the box's weight and that they were mesmerizingly beautiful. The faceted sides were sharp and the clarity was nearly flawless. She doubted Gold had given her mother anything near their value but now they were hers and Emma intended to treasure them and their power.

For now though, she placed them atop the books so she could examine the various pieces of jewelry which consisted of a beaded bracelet, two rings and a cameo pendant with a gold chain. She picked up the two rings first seeing that one was a very heavy gold man's ring topped with a large, bezel-set garnet and the second was a squared off silver ring with inlaid onyx. She couldn't begin to speculate on the stories behind the two rings or how they'd ended up in this box, but there was no doubt that they were expensive.

Dropping the rings back inside the cardboard box, she brought out the bracelet and pendant next. The bracelet was strung with alternating round onyx and gold tone beads and was held together with a golden clasp. It was pretty, but Emma didn't sense that it was anything special. She last turned her attention to the pendant which featured a cameo carved from mother of pearl that still possessed some of its original luster even after all of these years. As she held it in her hand, she found that there was a seam running all around the oval pendant, discovering that it was a locket.

Her thumbnail found the tiny latch on the right hand side and as she flicked it, a tiny gasp escaped from her mouth when the halves fell open. One side of the locket housed a miniature photograph of their family - a photo that had probably been taken not long after Emma's birth as she was just a tiny infant cradled in her mother's arms. A tear started to well in her eye as she stared at the images of her father's smiling face and the goofy grin on the young, tow-headed David. Unless they'd been faking it well, this was a picture-perfect image of a happy family.

So what had gone wrong?

Remembering that she was in public, Emma placed all of the items back inside the box and closed up the flaps before she became an emotional mess. She took a moment to glance over the books before her food arrived, finding that one was a history of witchcraft in New England - probably a good read for later but nothing that was drawing that personal attachment like the objects in the box had. The second one was far more interesting though - leather-bound and sealed with a clasp that was locked. Was this a journal or diary of some kind?

Temptation loomed to open the leather-bound volume right away, but Emma wisely decided against it just as Ruby plopped a plate in front of her. "Breakfast is served," the giddy waitress announced with a gesture towards the diner's entrance, "but isn't that your friend over there?"

Emma glanced up from her stash of goodies that were spread all over the table, feeling her cheeks flushing as she noticed the man about to enter the restaurant. "Oh, yeah, it is," she responded as she hurriedly stacked the box and books to make more room on the table top. "I was hoping he'd join me for breakfast after we ran into each other outside Gold's shop."

"Well then, I'll bring another mug and a full pot of coffee for the two of you," Ruby offered with a sly wink. "I'm sure the two of you would like a bit of privacy…"

"It's just breakfast, Rubes," Emma reminded her friend, shaking her head as Walsh stepped through the doorway. He craned his neck, scanning the room to see where Emma was seated as she waved to him and shooed Ruby back to the kitchen.

"I'm glad you were able to make it," Emma greeted him as he sat down on the padded vinyl bench opposite her. "Were you able to find out any new information about your shipment?"

"Not much yet. I have to go back in about an hour, after Mr. Gold reaches out to some of his connections. Things are looking promising though."

"But that means you'll be leaving town soon," she commented with a frown furrowing her lips.

"Not for a few days yet," he insisted, "and even then, I have no need to hurry back to Boston. My client will be out of town all next week…"

"Well, then - that helps…," she smiled, ready to say something else just as Ruby materialized at their booth to drop off a stoneware mug and a stainless steel coffee pot.

"What can I get for you, hon?" Ruby asked Walsh to interrupt Emma's train of thought.

"I'm honestly not all that hungry. How about just some toast this morning?" he replied.

"No problem. White, wheat or rye?" the waitress asked for clarification, noticing that Emma was glaring at her to hurry up.

"I'll take rye, please - with lots of butter."

"You got it. 'Back in a jif…," Ruby said with a huge smile. Emma shoved a corner of her toast into her mouth as Ruby sauntered away since it was easier (and far less painful) than biting her tongue. Maybe having Walsh meet her here for breakfast wasn't the best idea after all.

"Ugh, I completely forgot what I was going to say before she came over to take your order," Emma sighed.

"It's alright. I'm sure it will come back to you before we're done with breakfast."

"I guess… It will probably depend on how many more interruptions we get." Emma gave a sideways glance in the general direction of her waitress friend. "Ruby can be a little overwhelming at times. She thinks she's the town's unofficial matchmaker."

"Is she?" Walsh chuckled. "Is that what she thinks we are? A match?"

"Probably… We used to be, right? Is that what we're supposed to be?"

"I suppose it's a possibility…," he replied, pausing before adding "if that's something you want? Is that something you want?"

"I'm honestly not sure what I want, Walsh…," she began, her voice trailing off as she felt her cell phone vibrating from inside her jacket pocket. "Hang on a second… Let me see who this is…" Withdrawing her phone, she was somewhat surprised to see Graham's name emblazoned across the screen. "Graham? Wonder what he's calling me for? He knows it's my day off…" She chose to ignore the call and let it ring into her voicemail but mere seconds later, the display lit up once again with another call from her fellow deputy. "I'm so sorry… If he's being this persistent, it must be important. I've got to take this…"

"It's fine, Emma. I understand. Duty calls."

"I'll be right back," she promised, sliding across the vinyl seat as she answered the call. "Graham? What's up? You know I'm off today…," she said in greeting while ducking into the hallway leading to the restrooms for a little bit of privacy.

"I'm sorry, Em. I know it's your day off and that you're nursing a hangover but there's a guy here at the station who's looking for you and insists on talking only to you."

"Really? Who is it?"

"He said his name is William Smee, but that's all he'll tell me. He's really agitated and wants to speak to you."

"Mr. Smee?" What could he want with her? "I wonder what's going on… I'm just over at Granny's. I'll be over in a few minutes."

"You actually know this guy?" Graham asked incredulously.

"He's one of the crew members from the ship I was sent to the other day to investigate that drunk and disorderly…" Graham didn't need to know more at this moment.

"Oh, okay then. He's really worked up but I'll try to keep him calm, if I can." Emma disconnected the call before she heard all of Graham's statement, walking briskly back to the table to gather her belongings. "Walsh - I am so sorry. There's something going on over at the station and Graham needs my help. I'm gonna owe you a rain check."

"What's going on? Nothing serious, I hope…"

"I don't really know but I'll call you later when it's all sorted out." She picked up the stacked books and cardboard box as she fished a few dollar bills out of her jeans pocket. "This should cover breakfast, not that I got to eat most of it…" She took one last gulp of coffee and retrieved her remaining slice of toast. At least it was portable.

"Okay, call me when you're free," he instructed. "We need to address the direction our conversation was headed…"

"That we do. I don't know how long this will take though so good luck with Gold. Hope he gets you some answers."

"I know he will," Walsh assured her as she scurried towards the door, adding a comment to himself once she was out of earshot. "He knows what's good for business…"


Emma was still chewing the last bit of her toast when she arrived at the Sheriff's station, wishing that she would have had Ruby put the rest of her coffee in a to go cup as she swallowed the dry bread. Oh, well, she thought as she pushed open the door to find the Jolly Roger's first mate pacing in front of Graham's desk while ringing his knit cap between his hands.

"Deputy Swan!" Smee's face lit up as he saw her step through the doorway. "I wasn't sure where I could turn and then I thought of you…"

"What's going on, Mr. Smee?" she asked as she allowed the door to swing closed behind her while she approached the anxious sailor.

"It's the Captain, Ma'am… He's gone missing…"

"Missing?" Emma was honestly stunned by his announcement. "Are you sure? Maybe he just went off to explore the town or something?"

"No, no… He's definitely missing. I heard him return last night, a few hours after he'd left saying he was going to meet you, but he didn't join the crew this morning to oversee the AM duties like he normally does. Cap'n's an early riser, Ma'am. He's always there to oversee the crew, so I went to check his quarters to see if he was feeling unwell, but he wasn't there. His bunk hadn't even been slept in and as I returned topside, I also found his cell phone lying on the deck not far from the hatch. Cap'n wouldn't have just left without it…"

"You saw this missing Captain last night?" Graham asked her in hopes of clarifying both the timeline and the potential nature of the relationship. Meeting someone late at night hinted that there was certainly more to this than a casual acquaintance from the earlier investigation. "Wait - is that who you got drunk with last night?"

"Yes, I was with Captain Jones last night," she stated, glaring at Graham and letting him know with her icy stare that she didn't like what he was implying. "We took a walk down to the park after I had an argument with Regina, had a couple of drinks and then he walked me back here before returning to his ship."

"Okay then… So Mr. Smee, you're certain that your Captain did return to the ship last night?" Graham continued his line of questioning, unfazed by Emma's ire. He didn't really care if his queries made his co-worker squirm a bit. If there really was a missing person here in Storybrooke, their job was to gather enough information to find that person.

"Oh, yes," Smee replied. "He returned sometime after midnight. I heard the clunking of his boots on the deck. After years of serving together on a small ship, you learn to recognize certain sounds…"

"You know the sound of every crew member's boots?" Graham asked the first mate curiously.

"Well, no, not everyone, but the Cap'n has a very particular gait. And his boots have a metal tap on the toe that he tends to drag sometimes…"

"Alright then, I suppose we can establish that Captain Jones returned to the ship, but you didn't hear him leave? Did you hear anyone else up on deck?"

"No, Sir. Not either. I only heard the Captain. I just assumed that he went down the hatch to his quarters and went to sleep, at least until I found his bunk empty this morning."

"So, if no one else was up on that deck and no one saw or heard Jones leave the ship, where the hell did he go?" Emma wondered. "Something isn't adding up…"

"I agree," Graham added. "Mr. Smee, aside from the incident earlier this week caused by your fellow sailor, did anyone on the ship, and specifically, your Captain, have any run-ins with anyone here in town?"

"No one that I know of," Smee responded. "We've only been in this port a few days so I can't imagine that the Cap'n would have run afoul of anyone in that short time."

"Well, thankfully, Storybrooke has a magical advantage so there may be a way for us to locate him quickly," Emma told him as she placed her armload of her mother's things onto her desk to free up her hands. She fished her cell phone from her pocket as she asked Smee an additional question. "Mr. Smee, do you think you could get us a personal item belonging to Captain Jones so that we could try a locator spell?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. What do you need?" Smee asked.

"A piece of clothing or maybe an object that he touches regularly," she suggested.

"I can think of a few things. I'll go see if I can find them."

"Graham, do you think you could give Mr. Smee a ride down to the harbor?" she queried. "We can get this done a lot faster…"

"And why can't you?" Graham countered.

"Because I need to make arrangements to get everything started so we can attempt this spell… Unless you'd like to call Regina Mills on a Saturday morning?" Emma replied, offering her phone to the other deputy.

"Come right this way, Mr. Smee," Graham stated, grabbing his keys from the desktop as he leapt to his feet.


Emma couldn't be certain if Regina was pandering to her after last night's debacle or if she was agreeing to help out of genuine concern. Either way, the mayor instructed Emma to meet her at the vault in half an hour with an item belonging to Captain Jones so they could attempt a locator spell. Emma thanked her and placed a quick call to Graham before heading to Storybrooke cemetery, requesting that Graham bring whatever Mr. Smee found to the graveyard.

Her interrupted breakfast was forgotten as she dashed out of the station's rear door, taking the shortcut through the alley to get to the cemetery which was three blocks away. Graham was already awaiting her in the parking area, casually leaning against the front fender of the Sheriff cruiser. He was clutching a leather pouch that she speculated contained the object Smee collected but Emma could tell from his body language that he wasn't particularly comfortable with this rendezvous location. Graveyards clearly weren't his thing.

With no time for Graham's hang-ups, she retrieved the pouch from him, barely acknowledging his grumblings that he was calling David. She dashed across the cemetery grounds to the mausoleum and then descended the narrow staircase into the vault below. She had expected to find only Regina awaiting her so she was somewhat surprised to see Zelena's face when she rounded the corner at the bottom of the steps. The redheaded Mills sister was stirring something Emma couldn't make out on the prep table but Emma had to venture further into the vault to locate Regina. The younger sister was in the main chamber, drawing two intersecting, double-ended arrows over the inlaid pentacle on the marble floor using an aerosol can of bright white spray chalk. The arrows were clearly intended to be directional but Emma saw nothing else to indicate how they would help locate Killian.

"Emma, do you have something that belongs to the missing man?" Zelena asked, turning away from her concoction. We have everything else just about ready."

"Yeah, right here," Emma replied, raising the leather pouch.

"Great. Let's see what we have to work with…," Zelena wondered as Emma dug into the bag and retrieved two vastly different items - Killian's prosthetic hand and a four-inch diameter nautical compass with a shiny brass casing.

"Is that a hand?" Regina scowled, her nose crinkling in disgust.

"A prosthetic one," Emma explained, rolling her eyes at Regina's disrespectful reaction. "It belongs to Captain Jones. He's an amputee. There's also a compass here."

"We'll try the compass," Regina stated, extending her right palm so that Emma could pass the object to her. "It's less creepy."

"Says the woman who keeps a stash of magical books and potions in a vault beneath her dead parents' tomb…," Emma said snidely but Regina ignored her remark. The mayor carried the compass to the center of the intersecting arrows and placed it directly at their confluence.

"Let's see if this will work…," Regina began, her wand appearing in her grasp as she flicked her wrist. She hovered the tip of her wand above the compass as she recited the spell from memory. "Spirits awaken and endow, bring alive this object now. Guide us where these arrows crossed. Help us find the one who's lost." Regina tapped the surface of the compass twice with the wand and then took a few steps backward as she waited for the magic to begin.

"Did it work?" Emma asked Zelena in a whisper, but the redhead simply lifted her index finger to her lips and shushed the deputy. Emma wasn't about to be hushed though and continued with another question. "How long does it typically take for something to happen - or to not happen?" Since she'd began studying magic, she'd gotten used to the fact that reactions weren't always instant, but she'd thought that a locator spell would give them a speedier response. Right now, it didn't appear that anything was happening - at least not until the compass began to spin wildly atop the chalk markings. "Oh…"

"Everyone, stay back," Regina warned. "There's no telling where it will go."

The compass continued to spin in the center of the crossed arrows for a few more seconds before skittering across the marble, coming to rest near one of the pentacle points. Doubting that she was going to find Killian next to a huge pentacle, Emma was still skeptical about what information this display was providing them.

"You're going to have to help me out here," Emma began, pointing to the compass on the floor. "What is this supposed to be telling us?"

"The center of the crossed arrows represents this location, our starting point. Like the arrows on that compass, these indicate cardinal directions - north, south, east and west. The missing person can be found where that plot indicates," Regina stated.

"All I see is the point of a pentacle on a marble floor," Emma stated the obvious. "What does it correspond to?"

"I can help with that," Zelena spoke up. "Here, let me show you." Zelena brandished her own wand and with a wave. "Appereat tabula!" With a swish of her wand, a huge, transparent map of Storybrooke was emblazoned across the chamber floor and as Regina had stated, the cemetery lined up perfectly with the crossed arrows on the floor. Seeing the map presented an entirely new set of challenges though as the location indicated by the spot Killian's compass had stopped was part of Storybrooke town limits that Emma wasn't at all familiar with.

"That's where he is?" Emma asked, trying to find any clues on the map. "That's quite a ways from Main Street. What's out there?"

"Mostly just dense forest," Regina replied. "There aren't many people who live out that way, but if I remember correctly, one of Robin's poker buddies has a cabin out in the woods not far from there. Maybe he could give us some more insight into who or what might be out there in those woods?"

"Seems like it would be a good place to hide someone you don't want found," Emma commented. "I need to get out there and start searching…"

"By yourself?" Regina scoffed. "Even using magic to help guide you, you're still going to need a search party and a couple of good tracker dogs. The spell might have narrowed down the search area, but that's still more than a square mile…"

"Then we need to get started… We don't know where exactly he is or what condition he might be in… We don't even know if he's alive…" Emma's anxious ramblings began to raise Regina's curiosity. Why was it that this was seeming less and less like just any missing person case?

"The spell wouldn't have given us a location if he were dead or if he were outside of Storybrooke's borders," Regina assured her as she was getting an indication that Captain Jones meant more to Emma than she was letting on. "You do seem awfully worried about this visiting captain…"

"I'm not allowed to be concerned about a missing person?" Emma countered defensively.

"Not like this. This isn't just any missing person. What's your connection to this guy?" Regina demanded.

"I like him, okay?" Emma snapped back. "We've gone out a couple of times and he's a really nice guy who doesn't deserve whatever might be happening to him!"

"Then let's do this right," Regina stated. "We'll find him. Right now, let me go upstairs and call Robin and in the meantime, I suggest you call David so that he can start pulling a team together."

"Fine," Emma grumbled, feeling even more frustrated than before. "I just wish these locator spells would be a little more specific, like maybe give us some GPS coordinates or something? You'd think magic could be a little more in sync with modern technology…"

"Magic can help with a lot of things, but it isn't science," Regina reminded her student. "And while it may have a few drawbacks, I'm certainly not ready to give it up. Are you?"

"I know it isn't scientific and no, I have no plans to stop studying magic, but it just seems to me that if you can cast a spell to find true love, or to locate a missing person, things should be a lot more specific…," Emma lamented, her choice of words perking Zelena's ear.

"I don't know about using magic to find love," Zelena commented. "Despite years of practicing, I don't know that I'd trust it. We were brought up being told that magic has a price so I've always shied away from using it for anything that personal."

"I had a conversation with Mr. Gold earlier today and he told me the same thing," Emma told her. "He gave me the story of the town's history - and the price our great-grandparents paid for this town to have magic."

"I was wondering how much you knew about Storybrooke's sordid past…," Regina spoke up. "So, you know about the warlock and his challenges?"

"Yes," Emma replied, "and I know that my mother was the warlock's last opponent. Mr. Gold said something about her being tricked into making a choice, but either he didn't know or he just didn't elaborate on what that choice was."

"From the stories I remember my mother telling us, her sister, your mother, had to choose the man she loved. She had two men in her life at the time - your father and another guy who'd swept her off her feet. She had to choose between them and I guess she picked wrong because the warlock stole her powers," Zelena explained, but her tale wasn't sitting easy on Emma's stomach. The deputy fell silent as all of the implications swirled through her overloaded brain. "Emma, are you alright? You look as though you're going to be ill…"

"Maybe…," Emma squeaked out in a barely audible whisper. "Did my mother cast a spell to help her find her true love?" The question was really rhetorical. She already knew the answer in her heart and as the pieces fell into place, she realized the increased importance of locating Killian Jones.

"Honestly, I don't really remember," Zelena replied, "but it wouldn't surprise me based on what my mother told us. Why do you want to know?"

Emma dodged Zelena follow-up question for a moment as she had more of her own that kept rolling off of her tongue. "What was the real reason my mother left Storybrooke? I know it wasn't just because she lost her powers, so what was it?"

"Our mother said it was because of you," Regina stated very matter-of-factly, the accusation sounding harsher than she intended as she watched the color drain from Emma's face. "I didn't mean it like that…"

Emma had already made the connection in her mind, she had just needed one of her cousins to confirm it. "Because I had magic…" She was suddenly nauseous at the realization and her own actions were already haunting her. "She left because she didn't want me to be the warlock's next victim, but I think it may already be too late…"


During his misspent youth, Killian Jones had languished in many a dark prison cell, but none as abysmal as this solitary hell hole was feeling. Despite his own dire circumstances, he feared more for Emma. Had the person who had abducted him and tossed him into this solitary pit also taken her? If so, where was she being held? Was she in another lonely cell like this one or perhaps somewhere even worse?

His surest way of tracking time had been the growth of his own facial hair. His stubble hadn't yet filled in to a beard so he could estimate that his imprisonment hadn't been more than a day. His stomach protested with hunger and his throat was parched from thirst but that gave him enough information to be able to theorize that he'd been here between twelve and twenty-four hours, not that he could be entirely certain.

He had chosen to alternate sitting and standing, pacing about the tiny chamber in the darkness to keep his muscles from weakening should there be some opportunity for escape. He didn't want to sleep yet, but boredom was tiring him physically and mentally. What did his captor intend to do with him? Hell, he didn't even know who his captor was. Who had he offended?

Killian had just stood back up, pressing his back into the wall to straighten his spine when an eerie sensation descended upon him. The atmosphere in the room changed as he discovered that the breath he was hearing wasn't his own.

He wasn't alone in the room any longer, yet he'd heard no one enter.

"Who's there?" Killian demanded.

"I wondered how long it would take you to realize you weren't alone," a voice chuckled. "Very astute, Captain."

"What the bloody hell is this? Who are you?"

"I just had to change up the game a bit," the voice deepened to a sinister hiss. "Emma was getting too close to choosing you and I just can't let that happen…"

"What do you mean choosing me? What did you do to Emma?" Killian wanted to temper his anxiety but he was allowing fear to get the best of him.

"She's fine. She's a tad confused as to where you've gone, but she's unharmed."

"And she had better stay that way!" The threat was probably empty, but Killian couldn't stop the excited utterance

"As if you're in a position to argue," the voice reminded him. "But anyway, I assure you, I have no intention to hurt her. All I want are her powers and you were getting in my way."

"So that's why you abducted me?"

"It seemed to be a logical choice at the time, but a friend of mine provided me with a much more effective option…"

Killian didn't like the sound of any of this. "More effective option for what?"

"You know, this hook of yours is an interesting implement," the voice taunted, ignoring Killian's query. "You use it as a substitute for a missing limb and yet it's as sharp as any weapon I've handled…"

He didn't sense the figure drawing closer to him, yet Killian could feel the pressure of the cold, sharp steel against the tender skin at his throat, grazing just enough to draw a faint trickle of blood. Bloody hell - what sort of game was this? He wasn't going to get an actual answer to that unspoken question but the intent was made clear with a searing pain that suddenly radiated from his left shoulder. His hand instinctively went to the site of the wound, desperate to remove whatever was impaling his flesh and feeling the familiar shape of his own hook.

He fought to keep his eyes open. He'd been stabbed before and didn't believe he was bleeding that profusely. Unless his attacker had struck an artery, which would likely be bleeding far worse, he shouldn't be this lightheaded. He shouldn't be losing consciousness yet his knees buckled beneath his weight and he slid back to the floor.

"Have a nice slumber, Captain," was the last thing Killian remembered hearing as he collapsed and succumbed to blackness.