Graham sighed, his breath making a cold cloud in the harsh night air. He had been riding for hours. Painful blisters lined his feet, with a grimace, he sat down on the damp grass.
Where are you Emma?
It seemed like she was always one step ahead of him, evading him at every turn. How could she have been so stupid! He silently cursed.
The horizon was darkening, the sun slowly sinking down and casting the world into darkness. Graham ran his fingers through his hair. He had the terrible feeling that time was running out, every moment Emma was away filled him with dread.
Something felt very wrong.
Graham made a quick decision. He was going to get help. And he knew who from.
He sat up sharply, and climbed onto his tired horse. To continue his search for a lost friend.
He prayed he would find her in time.
Emma had drifted in and out of consciousness for days, maybe weeks, she didn't know. It was all a hazy blur of screaming and pain. when she was awake she threw up until her throat was dry and raspy. Sometimes people tried to give her food or drink but she couldn't keep it down.
Her eyelids felt heavy and her head pounded with a sickening rhythm.
Emma squeezed her eyes open, to face the harsh sunlight.
It came in bright rays through the thin brown curtain of her cabin. She felt better than she had for a while, her head had stopped hurting and she felt hungry, her stomach was growling. Emma lifted her covers and slid of the edge of the bed. Her hair was a tangled greasy snarl, and her clothes were crumpled and dirty, they clung to her body like a second skin.
The door to the cabin creaked open. Emma sat back on the bed and quickly pulled her covers up.
"May I come in?" A hesitant boy stood just outside the door.
She guessed it was probably Trout, she had seen no other boys on the ship. "Of course."
He stepped in carrying a wooden tray with something steaming on it. "I heard movement in here so..." He trailed off awkwardly. Then placed the tray beside her bed.
"Thank you." She croaked, her voice coming out strange from lack of use.
He cleared his throat nervously.
"The cap'n wants to see you when you are well enough, he says to tell you that we are going ashore, and it's very important."
She scowled. What right did he have to order her around? But it was a good chance to get off the ship and leave it all behind. "Okay, I will see him soon." She gave her sweetest smile.
He nodded, closing the squeaky door as carefully as possible.
Hook deserved to die and he had just given her the perfect opportunity. She picked up her bowl of broth.
He would pay for his heinous crime.
She ate the broth in a flash, her stomach complaining for more.
Outside was windy and cold, Emma hugged herself, shivering. On deck men bustled about all with different tasks, some held coils of rope, others vigorously scrubbed the deck. Hook was in the middle of it all barking orders. He stopped when he saw Emma, then gestured for her to come closer.
She attempted to march over to him, scowling, but she found she was rather off balance, and the broth she had eaten moments ago seemed to want to come up again. "What do you want."
He grinned sardonically. "Oh I just wanted the pleasure of your company, of course."
"Shut up." She retorted.
"A ray of sunshine as always."
She turned to leave.
He grabbed her shoulder. "Wait."
She shoved his arm away. "Tell me what you want now or I'll go back to bed."
"We are going ashore to meet someone who can help me to locate Philip's killer, to do so I need your memories."
"Wha-" Emma spluttered, he was deluded. "You're not serious!"
"I'm afraid I am."
She was surprised, maybe he didn't kill him? But she had seen it with her own eyes.
He was just lying, trying to get her killed probably.
She decided to go along with it, this was her only chance to get rid of him and leave the ship.
"Okay, If you insist."
He gave her a suspicious look. "We will be there in about twenty minutes."
Hook hadn't told her that they were in Philip's country. Emma had been there once before when she was five years old. Her heart twisted, it was a terrible thing for a country to lose its prince. The sun shone on the docks, people bustled around with colourful clothes. Children laughed and played in the streets. They all seemed unaware of the imminent disaster.
"Hurry up Emma!" Hook hissed.
She pulled her hood down and followed after him. They were meeting a sorceress who lived on the edge of town, shunned by her freinds and family. She lived a secluded life, somehow she owed Hook a favour. The challenge would be to get through undetected.
Hook suddenly grabbed Emma's arm, sharply tugging her into an alleyway. She was about to make an angry retort then she noticed a group of three soldiers were walking by, engrossed in a loud discussion about a woman they liked.
Emma was about to continue on her way, but then she noticed something, a poster. Glued to the wall.
It showed both her face and Hook's.
She frowned, and stepped closer.
"What is it Emma-?"
Hook stopped abruptly, noticing the poster too.
It read:
"This man: known as captain Hook, has commited high treason. He is a dangerous fugitive. His suspected accomplice Emma swan is wanted for questioning. If you see or hear either of these individuals please report to the nearest authorities."
Hook swore. "That's gonna make things difficult."
"Difficult!" Emma spat. "They think I helped you kill him!"
"I told you... I didn't kill him." Hook sounded annoyed. "Leave that let's go."
Emma growled. "Fine, lets go then."
The guards were on the street corner, seemingly unaware of Hook and herself.
She wasn't going to let Hook mess with her memories. He was going to hang. But she couldn't make her identity known.
"Not much further." Hook murmured.
Emma was running out of time, she needed to think of something. Fast.
She slowed slightly so Hook was ahead of her, he continued without a glance.
Emma bolted into the inn they had just past, pulling her hood down as she ran.
"Emma!" She heard Hook shout,not very far behind her.
The inn was stuffy and smelt like tobacco. But it was virtually empty save for one barmaid busily cleaning and an old man with a drink clutched in his hands.
Emma clutched at her sides, coughing and gasping. Running wasn't a good idea in her current state.
"Are you alright miss?" The
barmaid looked worried.
"I'm fine." Emma breathed. "Do you think you could tell the guards that there is a fugitive in town." Emma consciously pulled her hood closer over her face.
"Why can't you do if yourself, miss?"
"I have some history with him he is looking for me right now." Emma tried to sound scared. "His name is Captain Hook, I'm guessing you know who he is?"
"Yes... I do miss." The girls voice shook. "I... will do as you ask."
"Thank you." Emma's voice cracked when she spoke. "Is there anywhere I could go so he won't find me?"
"Upstairs there's an empty room, you can go there for the time being." The girl flung her coat on as she spoke.
"Thank you." Emma said again.
"No worries." She disappeared out the door.
Emma shivered. Phillip would finally be avenged, but why didn't that make her feel any better?
She sighed.
"Would you like to share a drink with me?" It was the old man that spoke to her.
"No I really shouldn't." Emma smiled.
"Oh but I insist." He smiled in a sickly sort of way. She could see right through it.
"Please, I have other things to do at the moment, but thanks for asking." she was highly aware of how visible her face was under the hood.
"Like getting people killed." He sounded strange suddenly like his voice didn't fit his body.
"Sorry sir, I don't know what you're talking about and I really must go." She would take her chances elsewhere.
"I don't think so." His eyes flashed when he spoke, they were a strange blue-green like the sea. "You see, I can't let you kill that man."
Emma's heart pounded. Why did he look so familiar?
"I must go." She whispered dangerously.
He smiled at her.
She turned and ran for the door.
She didn't get there.
Emma screamed as someone grabbed her shoulder roughly.
It was Hook.
"Emma its okay, come with me." He smiled reassuringly.
"You aren't angry?"
"I've had much worse done to me, don't worry about it." He placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Okay but where is...?" The old man was gone. How strange, he must have went upstairs.
"Can we leave here?" Emma muttered warily, brushing his hands off her shoulders.
His hands.
"You're not Hook!" Emma shoved him away.
"Of course I am." He smiled showing white teeth.
"Explain the extra hand then." Emma spat.
His eyes were a deep blue-green.
Dark hair hung in strips down his pale gaunt face. He wasn't Hook.
"Well you can't blame me for trying." The man laughed as if it was a marvelous joke. "You must admit, it was rather funny."
Emma's head pounded. "Who are you?"
"I'm the man who killed your darling prince."
"What?" Emma shouted.
"Well you've been chasing after the wrong man." He laughed colorfully. "Oh Emma you've made a fine mess."
"I don't care as long as I can kill you."
"I don't think so." He ran a long fingered hand through his hair. "Doesn't it bother you that you sentenced an innocent man to death?"
"Oh no." Emma whispered.
"Better run or his blood will be on your hands. You should be more careful" The man disappeared, he only left the smell of sea.
Emma hissed, the ran out the door. She was wrong and now an innocent would die.
She ran as fast as her legs would take her. Where would he be?
She coughed painfully, her breath rasping.
Emma ran the way Hook and her had been going through the damp twisting alleys and gutters.
They couldn't have gone far.
She stopped at the sound of voices. It was Hook quietly talking to someone.
She ran out of the alley. "Hook I'm sorr..."
He was kneeling beside someone. Trout, who had three arrows embedded in his back.
Emma gasped, covering her mouth.
Trout wasn't breathing.
Hook looked up at her, his face contorted with rage. "You!" He spat. "How could you do that?"
He was in front of her in a few short strides. "He's dead Emma, fifteen and dead."
"I'm so sorry." She cried, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't know."
He grabbed her around the throat. "Yes you did, you knew I didn't kill him and still you insisted on this petty revenge, well now that you have killed someone, does that make you feel better?"
Emma choked, crying and grabbing at his hand. "I'm sorry."
"Save it for someone who cares."
He released her.
Emma dropped to her knees coughing and crying. "I found the man who really killed Philip."
He bristled. "I don't care, if you come near me or any of my men again I'lll kill you myself." With that, he turned on his heel and marched into the alley, his coat clapping. He was limping, Emma knew exactly why, it only served to make her feel worse.
Emma cried, uncontrollable tears streaming down her face.
Coughing and hiccuping through a blind haze of tears.
What was she to do now?