Rain drizzled quietly outside the cabin, the comforting sound failing to lull Emma into a much needed deep sleep. She laid snuggled under several layers of blankets, curled on one side, and stared out the window. Her focus drifted to the long empty porcelain mug on the bedside table, disappointed the strong, citrusy tea failed to soothe her rough, aching throat. For the majority of the night, she had sat at Jefferson's craft table reading aloud the intertwined fairytales of Henry's book. Her eyes fluttered shut, still feeling the muzzle of the man's gun stroking the skin of her upper arm.
Emma recalled the last thought crossing her mind right before she passed out from his drugged tea.
Why?
It was a genuinely fair question. Why in the hell had this man drugged her? He didn't know her. She'd been in town for less than twenty-four hours. How could she have possibly made an enemy already?
Reflecting on her decision to ensure Jefferson returned home safely, Emma now knew she should've just let him walk after nearly hitting him. If not that, then leaving him to his lonesome when dropping him off at his estate. She had pretty much invited herself inside, presently unsure as to why. It had nothing to do with his physical appearance but more like an opportunity to actually have a conversation with someone from Storybrooke aside from the rather forward Sheriff Graham and Henry's adoptive mother.
Jefferson hadn't been the least bit put off by her self-invitation and even offered to prepare tea and show her some of his amateur cartography work to help her get a better idea of where she'd like to buy property. He had been friendly not interested which suited Emma fine but when she began to feel hazy and unbalanced from the tea, she came to know her judgment may have been too hasty. However long later, she woke up bound and gagged. After managing out of her bindings, she went in search of way out of the house and spied Jefferson inside another room reading Henry's book. A part of her wanted to burst in and snatch it from him, but the logical part of her said it was just a book, probably full of flimflam fairytales every person knew well.
Leaving Jefferson with her son's book, Emma found August gagged and tied to a chair inside a room. When she freed him, he explained how Jefferson broke into the cabin minutes after she left to take Henry back to Regina's. Jefferson had knocked him out with a tranq dart and taken him back to the estate before leaving again to get her.
August had agreed they needed to find a way out of the house before calling the police. Unfortunately, they hadn't gone far before Jefferson appeared and forced Emma to rebind August. At gunpoint, he then led her to a crafts room where Henry's book was open to the first page. The book was on a craft table next to a few unfinished hats. In fact, hats of all styles and hues decorated the room, and she spared him a concerned glance. He ignored her judging stare and promptly instructed to sit at the table and read.
"Out loud, Emma," he had said when she read the first line to herself.
As she spoke twisted, unfamiliar versions of Snow White, Cinderella, Hansel and Gretel, Red Riding Hood, and the Mad Hatter; Emma found difficulty in following the storyline. Not only had Jefferson hovered over her, even whispering words of encouragement into her ear and making her goddamned terrified that he planned on raping her in the near future, the initial story seemed to start somewhere towards the end at the wedding of Snow White and Prince Charming. Flashbacks bombarded the pages as did gaudy illustrations of characters and scenery. About two-thirds from the end, however, she began to pay closer attention. Her tongue stumbled over a character's name, the Dark One. Jefferson mistook her fumble and hesitation for exhaustion and reminded her she was almost done.
The Dark One had not been mentioned previous to the story of Cinderella but perhaps alluded to if Emma went back and carefully reread, starting from the beginning. After his capture, he was only mentioned again once more and briefly when Snow White and Prince Charming sought his counsel concerning the Evil Queen's threat to destroy their happiness. In exchange for information, he requested the name of their unborn child.
"Emma," Snow White replied. "Her name is Emma."
Jefferson must've sensed her intent to jump up and run because the moment her own name left her lips, he had rested his chin on head and creepily squeezed one arm while his gun caressed her other. Suppressing a shudder, she read until the end when Prince Charming fought off Black Knights to ensure his daughter to the magical wardrobe where she would be transported to another land. Twenty-eight years later, she would become the savior and break the Evil Queen's curse, restoring all the happy endings to everyone.
The last illustration of the book depicted Prince Charming holding his daughter, the baby wrapped in a knitted blanket with her name woven into the material. Emma had thumbed the cursive letters, unable to comprehend what she read or even given enough time to before Jefferson slammed the book shut.
"You made the clock on the clock tower start working," he had said. "You came to a place where nothing ever changes. You even brought Pinocchio along for the ride. At first, I thought you had magic, but you're so much more, aren't you, Emma? You're this savior the book speaks of." She stayed in her seat as he backed away behind her, but she could sense the muzzle of the gun pointed at the back of her skull. "Break it. Break it or I end it. I have a feeling if I kill you, the curse is null and void."
"You're insane!" she had said, her eyes landing on a pair of large scissors a few inches from the book. Emma grabbed the shears and flung them blindly over her shoulder, hoping to create a distraction but instead piercing Jefferson in the shoulder. She dropped to the floor as he fired a shot in her general direction and was able to kick his feet out from under him. She noticed a telescope by the window, not unlike the one in the other room that was pointed at the turnoff leading to hers and August's cabin. Thinking fast, she grabbed it and whacked Jefferson hard across the face. The moment he dropped, she sprinted back to August, unbinding him from the chair just in time for both of them to fight off Jefferson. Emma had been flattened to the ground with him on top of her, and she took notice of the garish scar on his neck behind his scarf. She was only able to study it for a moment before August yanked him off her.
Scrambling to her feet, Emma was able to land a well-placed kick to Jefferson's chest. He stumbled backwards, hitting the window. The glass gave from the force, and he fell. She and August rushed to look out and see if there was a chance he survived, but both were alarmed to see the ground beneath vacant with the exception of broken glass.
They hadn't called the police but dove into Emma's Bug which they found tarp-covered and parked by the garage. They sped to the cabin, and August poured himself onto the sofa in front of the fireplace, mumbling a promise to speak later. Emma on the other hand, couldn't sleep a wink despite her utter lack of sleep the entire night. She laid there, for hours and hours. Maybe she did drift off here and there but had startled awake at simple but foreign sounds an old cabin in the middle of storm could only make.
A little after two o' clock, Emma spared August's sleeping form a glance before walking out the front door and to her car. Inside, she glanced down at Henry's book on the passenger seat and thought of the heinous scar on Jefferson's neck. Her heart began to beat faster. As to not wasting another minute, she started the Bug and drove to Storybrooke Elementary, passing the working clock tower on the way. She got there right when children started filtering out of the building and towards the two buses. She spotted Henry immediately, his backpack bigger than life. She parked a ways from the school and walked over to him as he stood in line to get on his bus.
"Henry," she rasped and then cleared her sore throat. "Henry."
His face brightened when seeing her, and he rushed over and wrapped his little arms around her legs. "My mom said you left, but I knew you didn't."
She stooped down and held him close, cradling the back of his head and inhaled his scent. He smelled of spiced apples, and it made her sick. She pulled away just enough to look at him. "Would you like to come with me?"
The boy gaped and then nodded. "Where? Oh, I know. We can go get grilled cheeses and hot chocolate at Granny's, and then we can go to my castle and have a picnic. "
Emma smoothed over his cow lick he inherited form Neal and smiled tightly. "Okay."
"Snow White's here. Do you want to see her?" he asked, his little hand grabbing on to hers.
"Not today." She led him across the street to her car. He catapulted into the passenger seat, and she drove them into town where he excitedly pointed out all the places he wanted to show her. By the time they got to the outskirts, that enthusiasm faded, especially when he noticed her sparse luggage in the backseat.
"Mom?" he said, troubled.
"We're leaving," she confessed, pressing on the gas.
"What? Why?"
"Because, Henry!" she snapped hoarsely. "This is not what I wanted for you! When I gave you up, you were supposed to be safe!"
"I am safe!" he said indigently.
She shook her head. "No, you're not. Storybrooke isn't safe. It's cursed, and I can't leave you with that woman who raised you. I can't let you be anywhere near her. She can hurt you."
"She won't, I swear. I know she's done bad things, but she's my mom. You're the savior, though. You're supposed to break the curse. The book says so, and it's not broken yet. You can't leave. Not yet."
"I am."
His bottom lip quivered, eyes glassy. "But what about Snow White and Prince Charming? They're your mom and dad."
Oh, yes. How could she forget the people who shipped her off to this mess of a world to fix their problems. "I don't care about them. I care about you. You're my kid."
He hugged Once Upon a Time as if it could comfort him . "Mom, please. You're not supposed to be like my other mom. You're supposed to be good. You came from True Love."
Emma pulled over to the side of the road right before the Welcome to Storybrooke sign. She shifted in her seat and faced him. "I was told all I had to do was believe and the curse would break, but it hasn't. I'm not going to stick around and wait for it to happen. Not when you're here and living with Regina. You read the book and know what she's capable of. What she did to this town is unacceptable."
"Fix it, then."
"I can't! This is not the first time I've dealt which something like this, and it's too powerful. The only thing I know how to do is run, and it's going to keep you safe and away from Regina."
"But I don't want to be away from her."
"Henry." Emma cupped his face, sighing. For the first time, she regretted giving him up for adoption. God, if she had kept him, though, he wouldn't have had a good life. Not at first. But maybe she could've built one. For him, she would've tried. "I know she's your mom, but I would be crazy to let you go back to her."
"We can talk to her. What if she feels bad and wants to do good things, but the curse won't let her?"
"I don't think so, kid."
Henry's features pinched stubbornly. "She can leave, you know? She'll come after us. She won't be happy."
"I'm not concerned about her happiness. I'm worried about yours."
He leaned out of her touch and said, "I won't be if you take me away, but I will be if you stay and break the curse."
Emma flinched. She wanted to say something along the lines of how he'd understand when he got older, but the look on his face silenced her. Clenching the steering wheel and inwardly groaning, she weighed her options. It would be so easy to start the car up, shift it into gear, and be in Boston in a matter of hours. From there, anywhere. Someplace Regina couldn't find them.
She began planning their escape to some faraway place, even when she turned the Bug around and headed back. She stopped at Granny's diner and when Henry hopped out of the car, he grinned proudly and said, "I knew you'd do the right thing." He bounded into the restaurant and beckoned her to hurry.
Inside, an attractive young woman instantly zeroed in on the boy and said, "Hey, your mom's looking for you." She craned her neck and called towards the kitchen area, "Granny, call the mayor and tell her Henry's here."
Henry threw himself into a booth, spreading himself out and saying, "I'm okay. The usual, please. Make it two, actually."
Emma pulled her wallet out other jeans and slipped him a ten dollar bill for his order. She gave the waitress a glance and said, "Just one."
"You're not staying?" he said, crestfallen.
Emma bent over and stated firmly but quietly, "There's a chance I'll leave town, Henry. You're coming with me if that happens."
Nonplused and with a casual roll of his shoulders, he said nothing until the waitress served him a fresh cup of hot chocolate with cream and cinnamon. He bid the woman a thanks and knowingly grinned at Emma. Bemused, she stared at him grumpily before going up to the counter and tossing the waitress a forced smile.
"Henry's your friend?" she asked.
"Something like that" Emma replied, eyes scanning the alcoholic beverages on the menu but decided against ordering one. She had more pressing matters to attend to like pretending to break a curse for the sake of August and her kid.
A twinge of guilt went through her when thinking of August, but she pushed it away. She needed to think of Henry first and foremost. Not a...not a puppet.
"What can get I get you?"
Leaning against the counter, Emma asked in a hushed tone, "Would you happen to know a lawyer in town? A good lawyer?"
The waitress, Ruby according to her nametag, arched a perfectly manicured brow and smiled, intrigued. "Mr. Gold. His pawn shop is around the corner, down the street, and to the left. You might be able to catch him. His hours are funky, and he sometimes closes for no reason. I could give you his phone number, but he won't answer. He also doesn't like visitors at his house, so good luck trapping him."
"Thanks. Can I borrow this?" Emma snatched a pen by the register and went back to Henry, writing her cellphone number down on a napkin. "This is for you. Don't show Regina, okay? Another thing, I need you to keep all this a secret. What happened today and about your book and what you know of this town. You can't let anybody know, especially her."
Henry's eyes bulged over the rim of his hot chocolate mug. He put it down, whipped cream on his upper lip and nose. "We should have a codename."
"Think of one. Make it awesome."
"Meet me tomorrow at my castle after school. There's a trail in the back that leads to the beach. You'll find it."
"We'll see, okay?" Emma tried to smile and then left Granny's, getting into her car and following Ruby's directions to Mr. Gold's shop. Before going inside, she checked her phone and saw ten missed calls from August. She sent him a quick text saying that she was fine and to leave her alone. She'd be back at the cabin in a little while.
Mr. Gold's shop had a rather impressive assortment of trinkets. Inside one of the cases, a pristinely polished cutlass caught her attention, and she studied the curvature of the blade and the rustic whorls on the handle. At the base of the blade, there was a faded etching of a design resembling a shapely, female figure with several tentacles.
"What every woman needs," an accented voice spoke from behind her. From the back of the store entered a slight, middle-aged man. His hair was shoulder-length and dark, wisps of grey sprouting from his temple. He was dressed smartly and had a cane to help support his apparent lame leg.
"Excuse me?" she said.
"A cutlass." His eyes narrowed speculatively. "I don't believe I've seen or met you before. Are you new in town?"
"Looks like," she said and drummed her fingers on the glass case. "I hear you're an attorney."
"I moonlight on occasion, indeed." Like Ruby, he quirked his brow in curiosity. "Why does a lovely young woman such as yourself need an attorney?"
"I gave a child up for adoption several years ago. I want to sue for custody to get him back."
He smiled quizzically. "Perhaps I can be of some service when I know more of the details." He extended his hand. "Mr. Robert Gold."
"Emma Swan." She took his hand, shaking it.
Emma needed to be away from August for a while. She never returned to the cabin, calling him after her brief discussion with Gold to tell him she wasn't staying at the cabin anymore. They scuffled for a few minutes until she said he couldn't changed her mind and had plans to rent a room at Granny's until she found a more suitable place. He disliked being out in the open, fearing for her safety. He repeatedly voiced his concern, reminding her that Regina wasn't an idiot and would catch on eventually.
Emma didn't tell August about her meeting with an attorney. He'd discourage her going after Regina in such a direct way, but he didn't understand she wasn't afraid of her. The woman may have power as the mayor in this town, but none of it was real. It was a crazy person's fantasy land. Emma would play by the cute, societal rules up to a point, but if Gold couldn't win her case, she would be more than happy and ready to put this town in her rear view mirror, Henry by her side. So what if Regina could leave the town? Yes, somehow she secured a kid in 2005, but her credentials were fake as hell. If Emma had the power to fight for custody on her own territory such as Boston, she could dig up those bull shit records and present them in court. Unfortunately, that wouldn't fly here in Storybrooke.
The next morning Emma had an appointment with Mr. Gold at an upscale coffee shop. There, she further explained her case, and at first Gold seemed delighted to do anything to cause harm to the mayor. Nevertheless, he gave her a viciously honest overview of how incompetent her lifestyle was and no judge in their right mind would rule in favor of her despite being Henry's biological mother.
"Regina will bring to court every colorful fact from your past which, unfortunately, you can't change. You can, however, improve your present situation. As charming as the inn is, I suggest you look into an apartment. I have some available, and you might also want to consider finding local employment. As charming as a bail bondsperson sounds, I'm afraid our quaint town isn't in need of one." Mr. Gold scribbled down a few notes down on his pad and then tapped the end of it thoughtfully. "Tell me about the boy's father."
"I did."
"Yes, you took the fall for his misdeed. What I'd like to know is if you have any contact with him? Is there a chance he's going to be lurking about in the boy's life?"
Emma frowned and shook her head. "Of course not. I haven't spoken to him in years. I'm not even sure where he is. He doesn't even know about Henry and never will."
"Ah, well, then I must ask if there's any chance the boy's father will come looking for you."
"He hasn't yet. I can't imagine why he would now or in the future."
"So you're certain he won't?"
No, she wasn't actually.
"Yes," she said.
"I hope you can lie better by the first hearing, Miss Swan."
"I don't plan on lying."
Mr. Gold's face turned patronizing. "Of course you don't." He flipped to a fresh sheet of paper on his pad and wrote something down before tearing it off and handing it to her. "An apartment complex. It's across the street from the clock tower. Oh, and funny thing. That clock has been broken as long as I can remember. Just yesterday it started working."
Emma said nothing, pocketing the note and finishing off her dainty teacup of expensive coffee. When she pulled out her wallet to pay for it, Gold graciously told her he'd cover the tab and instructed her to contact him if she chose to rent the apartment he offered. He handed her a key and she thanked him before driving over to the building, parking beside a hideous Jeep Grand Wagoneer.
Inside the complex, the apartment was bare and clean and unfortunately unfurnished with the exception of a refrigerator and rickety, old dining table. She preferred furnished housing, hating to put so much money into something she couldn't take with her if wanting to leave on the fly. Maybe she'd go in search for some of those tacky, inflatable chairs that were so popular when she was a teenager. Or maybe beanbags and those cushy lovesacs.
Her train of thought was interrupted when her phone buzzed. She fished it out of her pocket and saw that it was August. She put him straight to voicemail and sent him a text saying she'd be back at the inn soon. She stole a few more moments to get the vibe of the place and then walked to Gold's shop where she signed a six-month lease and handed over the deposit.
Living simply, cheaply, and being exceptional at her job secured Emma financially. Her savings and checking accounts were both at a place where she could afford to pay Mr. Gold as a solicitor and as a landlord for a while. Still, it was smart to have a job, and extra cash-flow never hurt anyone. She was going to need to prove she could provide and care for Henry.
She wrung her fingers in anticipation when walking towards Granny's. She couldn't wait to see him again. She knew he wanted to see her later that day and maybe she could break the rule Gold gave her just this one time. He'd said paying visits to him without permission from Regina was out of the question. Emma knew keeping to that was important, but Henry would have to know what she was planning. She couldn't keep this from him, only to find out through Regina.
Emma saw August in the diner. He was in a booth chatting up Ruby, telling her tales of white, sandy beaches and clear, blue waters. The young woman sighed dreamily and said, "When I get out of this town, I swear."
Sliding into the opposite seat, she smiled at the girl and said, "Hot chocolate, please, with cinnamon."
"No problem."
When she was out of earshot, Emma confessed to August, "I rented an apartment just down the street. It's a two bedroom, and you're not invited."
August bristled, his hand tightening around his mug of coffee. "You saw Mr. Gold?"
Emma's phone buzzed and held up a finger at August. He tossed a frustrated glare at her, but she ignored it, fishing her cellphone out and seeing it was her boss in Boston. "I have to take this," she said and walked out of the restaurant. She fed the man some truths and lies, ultimately telling him she was in the middle of moving out of the city and would no longer be able to work for the agency.
Emma caught sight of Graham's cruiser pulling up in front of the diner. He made way to the entrance and slowed when noticing her. He didn't go inside the restaurant, so she waved. He tossed her a 'we need to talk' look, making her frown and hurriedly ending her conversation with her former boss.
"Yes?" she said to Graham, pocketing her phone.
"Henry wasn't on the school bus yesterday afternoon but was spotted with a blonde woman here yesterday. Would you care to explain?"
"You're going to have to ask Henry about that."
"Both Regina and I took turns. He swears he didn't get on the bus because he had a chronic craving for cherry vanilla ice cream, and you happened to spot him making his merry way towards Any Given Sundae. He claims you questioned him and then offered to take him to Granny's so he could call his mother to pick him up."
Emma was both deeply disturbed and strangely proud of her son's dishonest yet conceivable tale. It was very believable, and she grinned despite herself. "That's exactly what happened. I would've stuck around, but I assumed Regina wouldn't want to see me."
"You're not wrong, but I must ask why you're still here. I thought you'd return to Boston the other night."
"I'm planning on staying for a little while. It's a nice town and a good change from the hustle and bustle of the city."
"And Henry's here." He stared at her knowingly. "I find myself relieved you're choosing to stay. Have you looked into housing, yet?"
Sheriff Graham was so obvious, it was nearly painful, and Emma found herself somewhat flattered by his cute, tiny crush. "I'm moving into the complex down the street."
"You'll be neighbors with Miss Mary Margaret. She's very polite."
"Mary Margaret," Emma repeated, frowning.
"She sometimes brings a basket of produce by the station to make sure I don't give myself a heart attack from all the coffee and pastries I consume."
Emma chuckled softly, the cogs reeling within. Her newly employed attorney just happened to refer her to the same apartment where her mother resided. Reflecting back, it was rather strange he suggested an apartment instead of a house, given the circumstances.
Mentally scoffing, she brushed off her paranoid thinking. Gold referred her the apartment because it was a nice, unassuming place in a prime location. He couldn't possibly know he had Snow White as a tenant nor Snow White's daughter. He was cursed like the rest of this town.
"Storybrooke would be out of luck if that happened since I take it you're the only officer on duty," she said.
"It's within my budget to hire a deputy, but this town isn't known for nefarious, criminal activity. I mostly deal with misdemeanors and teenagers. Honestly, though, the station's records are in disarray thanks to my impeccable filing skills. I may just hire a deputy for the sake of tidying up the mess I've created."
Emma folded her arms and regarded him pensively. "Is that so?"
A few minutes later, she and Graham walked into Granny's, and Emma returned to the table but didn't sit. She laid a five dollar bill on the table, drank half of her now lukewarm hot chocolate and said to August, "I've got to go."
"We need to talk about-"
"Later." She went to walk away, but he grabbed her arm.
"The curse, Emma, or have you forgotten?"
"Do you have any bright ideas? Didn't think so. I'll see you later, like, tonight or something. We can talk then." She shirked his grip and followed Graham out the door to his car.
Graham gave her a ride to the station where she filled out some paperwork at the deputy's desk as he rifled through his office. When he came out, he was holding a police uniform. She leaned back in the chair and said, "A tie? You know you don't have to dress a woman as a man to give her authority."
Amused, he replied, "So you think you can get people to do what you want in that red coat?"
"I'm getting you to do what I want right now," she said wryly.
Graham held out his hand, presenting a badge. "Well, at least wear this. If you really want to be a part of the community, we have to make it official."
Taking the badge, Emma stood and clipped it on her belt, lurching when the ground beneath her feet quaked and the wall of the station shook. Seconds later, the station's phones started to ring.
Hook released his death grip on his work table and removed the hot steel from the fire. "What the bloody hell was that?" Wiping his hand on a cloth, he charged outside, leaving his fallen and scattered tools on the floor. Many of the community were clustered in a circle muttering or yelling at each other, arguing about what caused that shake. He scanned the area wondering what could've caused that shake. Some of the huts, including his own, were a bit worse for wear and needed tending to. Lancelot, or more accurately Cora's current mouth piece, marched out of his shack and silenced the community with a simple gesture. The crowd quieted and looked upon him for answers.
"My good people, everything is fine. It was not an ogre or even the ground's insistence to move. I believe the Evil Queen's curse wanes, and time is now moving like before. This is not a time a fear but a time of rejoicing, for our children will grow and our posterity and land will once again flourish in due time. We shall thank the heavens that our troubles are finally coming to a close."
As the community murmured excitedly amongst themselves, Hook remained silent and soon shuffled back to his work. When the ruckus outside died down, Lancelot expectedly paid him a visit. At first, the hijacked bloke said nothing, and Hook kept to himself whilst polishing a newly constructed sword. It was a fine piece if he did say so himself. He could perhaps sell it to the baker in exchange for a fortnight's worth of goods.
Hook carefully analyzed the design etched into the base of the blade. It had been a last minute decision in placing one, knowing it could either increase or decrease in trading value. Alas, at seeing how exquisite of his workmanship of the swan turned out, he knew he couldn't part with it. No, this weapon he'd keep. It'd be his second choice of defense, next to his sword, whenever again in battle. Perhaps he'd wield this blade instead of his hook into the Dark One's body and allow the monster's blood a symbol of renewal, a baptism for Hook. In the wake of the Dark One's death, Hook could start fresh.
Thumbing the swan, Hook pondered the lass who plagued his dreams the last two nights.
Swan most likely wasn't her surname anymore, but it suited her perfectly, hadn't it? Though she hadn't been elegant or poised, her long neck and milky white skin were rather enchanting. He recalled how the creamy pale flesh blushed beneath his mouth when his resolve broke and could no longer claim himself a gentleman as he ravished her, tasting her most private essence on his tongue.
Following the unsettling dream of Pan crushing her heart, Hook had eventually tapered off to sleep again, the lass returning but under much more pleasant circumstances. Alas, the setting was the same, aboard the Roger in his quarters. She was even asleep, but her delectable naked form was atop of his. Her head rested on his chest, and that maddening hair was splayed everywhere, tickling his chin and throat and shoulders. He had been enthralled by the sight, his fingers gently combing her tresses, carefully caressing the ends that teased the knobs of her spine. He rubbed those nodules, travelling down to the curve of her derriere covered by his duvet. Unfortunately, he stirred awake before he could dominate the dream.
"You're distracted, Hook," Cora finally spoke, using her puppet's mouth.
Hook slipped the sword into its sheath and wiped his dirtied palm on a cloth. "My patience wears thin, milady. When do we leave?"
"It's true that threads are merely holding the curse together now. We may be able to travel beyond the boundaries of the land. Two are preparing to leave already."
"You're allowing them to?"
"I can make do without." Cora's vessel circled Hook's work table and picked up a dagger that greatly mimicked the tattoo on his forearm. "Your days of wishful thinking are winding down, Hook. Tonight I will gather the hearts of many and bid them to go in search for the Golden Compass to cross realms and to ultimately find the Dark One and my daughter."
Hook took the dagger from Cora's grasp and set it aside. The Crocodile's death, once a shoddy glimmer of hope, was now shining ray of possibility. How much longer before he skewered him? A week? Perhaps two? His vengeance was close, the intoxicating scent damned near unbearable. Again, he asked, "When do we leave?"
"I imagine your rendezvous with dear Rumpelstiltskin will happen in a week's time."
"You still haven't assured me how we're to cross realms."
"As I've said, I do hope the giant at the top has a bean to spare but if not, there may be another way. Tell me, what have the locals told you about this precious savior meant to break the curse?"
"Aside from the exaggerations that the queen Snow White gave birth to a winged-baby made of solid gold? Not much. Rumors and speculation mostly, one of the stranger one's being that she was put inside a tree to avoid the curse, and it sent her someplace."
Cora smiled through Lancelot's teeth. "Exactly. I have reason to believe the rumors are true. The savior was put inside an enchanted tree. It should still be at the castle. I'll send a party up the beanstalk and another to Snow White's castle to fetch what we'll need. If we reach my daughter before the curse breaks, Hook, I do believe you'll have your work cut out for you when dealing with the Dark One. He'll haven't magic or a single memory of you. It'll be almost too easy. So the question I have for you..." she lifted left wrist pointedly, "hook or a sword?"
A brief moment of hesitation ticked by, and Hook replied, "Why not both?"
To be Continued...
