"No!" Belle's vision blurred briefly, then cleared again, the imposter's — another one! — sleep spell failing. Because she had once woken from the Sleeping Curse, Belle was now immune to all sleep spells. She scrambled up from the ground where she had been thrown, intending to charge the imposter, to tackle her if nothing else, and attempt to wrest the dagger away by brute force.

Instead, her foot came down in a crevice between two rocks and her momentum carried her forward, causing her ankle to wrench agonizingly. As she struggled to free her foot, she saw the imposter and Rumplestiltskin vanish together in an iridescent flare of light. Where her husband had once been trapped lay an enormous fallen tree branch.

"Rumple!" Belle gasped out the name in despair. "Rumplestiltskin. Rumplestiltskin!"

But it was no use. He was gone, with no power to return to her while someone else held his dagger. Once she had worked herself free, Belle limped over to the fallen branch, hoping to find some clue or some item that Rumple might have left behind. If she had something of his, maybe she could acquire a finding potion or persuade someone to cast the spell.

Ten minutes later, she knew her effort was futile. Her husband was gone without a trace. He was gone, and she was alone in the deep forest, with the sun already beginning to set on the other side of the mountains.

"Oh, Rumple." She sat in the dirt, too tired to move, all her muscles aching and her ankle continuing to throb painfully. She just wanted to lay her head down and cry until this nightmare was over. Except the wind was picking up, chilling her as it dried the sweat off her skin. She had no food, and only a bit of water left in her waterskin. She was grateful now that she had learned the spell for purifying water, although she would have to wait to find more. There was no question of trying to make her way back in the dark; with the guidance cantrip no longer active, she was liable to step off a cliff.

She forced herself to start moving again, gathering leaves and brush to form a makeshift nest. She wished she had the means to start a fire, but she didn't have matches or a lighter. She had been counting on Rumple's magic to provide them with whatever they might need. Well. That had been a foolish assumption, hadn't it? She made a mental note to put more wilderness survival guides on her reading list in the future. If she had a future.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she muttered to herself as she collapsed into her nest. Twigs and sharp bits of leaves prickled her through her clothes, but at least it was warmer and softer than lying on bare ground. She tried to ignore her hunger. She had brought some flat breads and steamed buns from the inn when she had set out, but they were no more than a fading memory now. Of course, she might not be the only hungry creature out here tonight.

Belle shivered, huddling deeper into the pile of leaves, trying not to think of wolves, or bears, or tigers. She truly hoped there were no tigers here. She crawled out of her nest long enough to get herself a heavy length of wood that could serve as a cudgel, then lay back down, listening to the wind and the constant background noise of insects, birds, and small animals. Every time she heard the leaves rustle on the forest floor, she had to tell herself it was probably just some harmless rodent. Eventually, she drifted off into sleep, awakening a few times throughout the night in a panic, but in the end forcing herself back into slumber. She tried not to think about what Rumple's captor might be doing to him or where he was spending the night.

The morning didn't bring much improvement, only enough light to see how thoroughly she was lost.

"No map, no compass." Belle took inventory of her pockets and found the contents sorely lacking. She resolved to carry a knife and a box of matches from now on. Lacey had carried matches. "But on the bright side, I have a stick."

She took a few steps with the help of the stick, finding that her ankle continued to throb with dull pain that turned sharp if she tried to put too much weight on it. It didn't help that her legs were still aching from all the walking she had done the day before. And the day before that, although Rumple must have used magic to heal her, as she had managed the climb back up the mountain to find him without collapsing in exhaustion.

"And if I found my way here, I can find my way back," Belle told herself, ignoring the obvious holes in her logic. By the laws of magic, it was a true statement. She just had to recast the guidance cantrip with the direction reversed. It wasn't as if she had to make up a brand new spell and cast it by herself. Rumple had already done most of the work. She just had to follow his outline, like making a tracing of a drawing.

To her relief, Belle eventually succeeded in re-activating the magic. After that, it was simply a matter of walking back. Simple, one step after another. And on and on. Even when her ankle was screaming for relief, she didn't dare rest for too long. She had to get back. Had to find Rumple. She had no choice but to grit her teeth and force herself to continue.

He's done this before, she thought, remembering Rumple limping away down the road alone, at night, for miles and miles through the Maine countryside. And with no magic at all. If he could do it, she could do it. And if he could find his way back, with no magic, through a magical barrier, then she could find him, in a land with magic. Somehow.

Her resolve took her all the way back to the inn. Thankfully, Rumple had already paid for room and board for three days. She ignored the curious glances from the innkeeper, and shook her head at the offer to fetch the physician, and fell asleep again after eating.

The next morning brought the unpleasant realization that she didn't know anyone here, and had no idea where to start looking for Rumple or the person who had taken him. The innkeeper gave her instructions to the constable's office when Belle asked about law enforcement, but shook her head when the inquiries turned towards magic.

"There was Pao the Three-handed, but he was killed by demons," said the innkeeper. "That's what they say, anyway. He used to brag about playing dice with the foxes. They must have caught him cheating!"

Belle thanked the innkeeper, not sure who the "foxes" were, but too distracted by her own worries to ask for clarification. It took her half an hour to hobble over (with the help of her stick) to the constable's office, then another half hour before they received her inside. She suspected the gatekeeper of angling for a bribe, but as she had no money, she could only plead her case and play the dumb foreigner.

The office was small, with only two men on duty inside. The chief constable heard her story with an air of polite, detached interest. "Missing, eh?"

Belle nodded. She didn't mention the part about coming through a portal, or about her husband being the Dark One, or that he had been kidnapped by some kind of sorcerer or demon, or, in fact, anything at all about magic being involved. They were... herbalists, she claimed, up on the mountain collecting rare plants. Her husband had left their camp and never returned.

"You're lucky," the chief constable said as she finished her explanation.

"Lucky!"

"Well, you're alive, aren't you?" The chief constable glanced at his younger assistant. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, yes, sir," said the other. "The mountain is infested with demons." He scrunched up his face and made dramatic clawing gestures with his hands. "Hideous creatures that eat humans. I thought even foreigners had better sense than to go up there. Didn't you see the marker?"

Belle shook her head. But then, she had left the trail soon after reaching the forest.

"The mountain gate," said the chief constable. "About a mile into the woods. It marks the boundary of human territory."

"Demon... you think it was a demon that got my husband?" Belle hadn't seen anyone except the imposter who had trapped Rumple, and she suspected her of plans beyond putting the Dark One in a cooking pot, but Belle didn't want to try to explain that one to these strangers.

"Yes. Nothing we can do, it's out of our jurisdiction," said the chief constable. "You're a widow now. Best go back to your family."

Belle shook her head. "I... can't. I don't have any family here."

"Oh, well, that's a shame," said the chief constable, but he didn't look particularly moved. "Maybe your husband's family will take you in."

"No. He doesn't... we're... we were alone here. Traveling."

"Go back home, then." At Belle's hesitation, the chief constable sighed and told her, "Look, if you're thinking to retrieve his corpse for burial, forget it. You'll only get more people killed, and for nothing but a meaningless heap of bones."

Belle stared at him, appalled at his blunt words and telling herself it wasn't, couldn't be true. No. Rumplestiltskin wouldn't die like that. He was alive. He had to be. But until she found him, she would need someplace to stay. "I don't have a home. Do you know anyone who might...?"

"Take you in?" The chief constable looked her up and down. "With your exotic looks, there should be someone..." He glanced over at his assistant. "What do you think?"

"I heard Old Man Lu, the tea merchant, is looking for another concubine," suggested the assistant.

"What? Concubine? No! That's not what I meant."

"You can't think you'll find anyone to take you as a full wife, in your state," said the chief constable.

"No!"

"Good, I didn't think even a foreigner would be that silly." The chief constable smiled at her, as if relieved that they understood one another.

"There's no point in even talking to you, is there?" Belle stormed off as furiously as she could on a bad ankle, thumping her staff hard on the floor with each step.

After that, she found her way to the house of Pao the Three-handed, hoping that perhaps he might have an apprentice or two who could be persuaded to help her. If not that, then potions or spellbooks. To her shock, she found the alleged magician's hut razed to the ground and reduced to ashes. To cleanse the demon aura, she was told when she asked the neighbors.

It seemed a waste, but there was nothing to be done now. Meanwhile, she would need money. Belle decided to ask about jobs rather than magicians. There turned out to be few opportunities for women in the small town. The one place known to be hiring that she was directed to...

...turned out to be the local brothel. Belle gaped at the sign with the big golden letters hanging proudly over the entrance. She was shocked that they were brazen enough to operate in broad daylight. Women with elaborately pinned lengths of hair and colorful clothes accosted passers-by in affected, childish tones that made Belle's skin crawl.

She kept moving, hobbling slowly along the street. She would look elsewhere, that was all. At the end of the day, she returned to the inn, still jobless. Even the people she thought should have had openings refused her. She suspected they were wary of a foreign stranger, unwilling to take a chance on her. She would have to find something tomorrow. Tomorrow she wouldn't even have a roof to sleep under anymore. And she still had no idea where Rumple had been taken, and no money to hire anyone to find him.

When the innkeeper came in, a little later, Belle was crying silently as she stared out the window. At the sound of the door, she hastily wiped away her tears and said as brightly as she could, "Oh, you brought food. Thank you!"

The innkeeper transferred the plates from her tray to the table, then poured a cup of tea for Belle. When she spoke, her tone was unexpectedly sympathetic. "They say you're looking for work."

"I'm looking for my husband." Belle's voice caught and she choked back a betraying sniffle.

"So I've heard."

"The chief constable wouldn't lift a finger to help me. He's scared of demons." The memory still infuriated her. "He says Rumple must be dead."

"I'm so sorry," said the innkeeper. "When we spoke, I could tell your husband cared very much for you."

"The chief constable is wrong! He doesn't know my husband." Belle saw the innkeeper's expression, knew that she must think Belle was in denial. "Rumple is—"

"Is what?"

Belle shook her head. "I believe in him, that's all. Never mind. What are these demons everyone keeps talking about?"

"Animal spirits, mostly," said the innkeeper. "Foxes, rabbits, spiders, snakes, deer... any creature can cultivate magic if they are diligent enough to practice the Way."

"And they become demons?"

"Demons, immortals, whatever you want to call them. After seven times seven — forty-nine — years they achieve human form. After a hundred years they become great beauties. After a thousand years..."

"A thousand years!" Belle knew that even Rumple was less than half that age.

"They become godlike in their powers," explained the innkeeper. "But most do not survive the three ordeals that heaven places in their way. Surely you know this already?" The innkeeper gave her a sidelong look.

"What? Why would I?" Belle returned the look, bewildered.

The innkeeper lowered her voice. "I thought you and your husband must be... you know... with your hair and your eyes... and the way you walked in here with a pocket full of silver but no luggage... People said you came down the mountain."

"You thought we were animal demons?" Belle didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. "No, I'm as human as they come. Just from a different land."

The innkeeper nodded, but didn't look completely convinced.

"I did know, well, I guess she was a wolf, once. She's an innkeeper, just like you. Her granddaughter is a wolf, too, and a good friend of mine," said Belle. "They aren't evil at all. Maybe there are animal spirits in the mountains, but that doesn't mean... doesn't mean they ate my husband!"

"They aren't all evil," agreed the innkeeper, "but some of them are."

"Then why did you let us into your inn, if you thought we were demons?"

"It's bad luck to turn away a customer who's done nothing wrong. Especially if they do happen to be a demon and take offense..." The innkeeper scowled at the window. "If nothing else, it gives me a step up against my competition."

"Ah," said Belle, remembering similar reasoning in the issuing of royal invitations back in the Enchanted Forest. "Actually, it's possible that... that a demon trapped my husband."

"May heaven preserve him! So that's why you were asking about sorcerers? You're looking for a demon hunter?"

"Something like that." Belle sighed and picked at the food. If it was to be her last meal in who knew how long, she didn't want to waste it. It was still too much for one person. She poured two cups of tea and offered one to the innkeeper, pushing out a stool with her foot. "Do you know where I might find one?"

"Most of them are wanderers. They can be... hasty and heavy-handed in their judgements," said the innkeeper cautiously, seating herself and picking up the cup. "Are you sure you're... human?"

"Yes!" But what about Rumple? What if a demon hunter actually did find him, and then attacked him instead of helping to rescue him? Belle remembered Gaston's adamant hostility, the way he called Rumple a "beast". "But maybe you have a point. My husband is... a complicated man."

The innkeeper nodded. Keeping her eyes on the tea cup, she said, "There's a Daoist nun I've heard of. Kongxu the Hermit. She's said to be powerful but kindhearted."

"You think she'll help me?"

"I hope so. There's another thing..." As it turned out, the innkeeper was also looking for someone who had, perhaps, gone missing. Someone who was one of those who "came down the mountain", as she put it. A centipede demon. "Brightmoon stayed at my inn a few times every year, but I didn't realize what she was until one day I happened to see her in half-human form." The demon hadn't killed her, but instead befriended her. "I don't have any family left here, so every friend is more precious than pearls. But most of this town wouldn't see it that way: to them, a demon is a demon. They'd stop coming here if they thought I was harboring 'unclean' creatures."

"How long has she been missing?" asked Belle.

"I last saw her four months ago. She spends most of her time in a hidden cave in the mountains, practicing the Way. I'm not even sure that she is missing, but I can't help but worry." The innkeeper sighed. "So...when you meet the nun, if you could mention my friend, so she'll know to look. Tell her that Brightmoon is a goodhearted demon who has never harmed anyone."

"Of course," Belle said. "Where does this hermit live? Not too far away, I hope."

"Two days of walking should take you there." At Belle's grimace, the innkeeper said, "After you're recovered. You can rest here..."

"I don't have any money," Belle admitted. Even if she had, she would rather have set off immediately, but she had to face reality: she wouldn't get much further until she gave her ankle a chance to heal.

"The kitchen could use another hand," the innkeeper suggested.

Belle readily took her up on the suggestion, and spent the next few days recuperating and chopping vegetables. Each night, she spent an hour practicing the magical exercises Rumple had taught her. Every bit of magic she could muster might make the difference between success and failure. She wished more than ever that she could cast the transport spell. Every moment her husband remained in captivity was another moment of torture for him, simply from the loss of his free will, if nothing else. She remembered what Zelena had done to him, and could only pray that this new enslaver was not so cruel.

The dawn came when Belle set off again, this time with a map and a bag of provisions. The innkeeper also handed her a small wooden box. It contained a segment of ginseng root which she assured Belle would be the appropriate donation for the hermit's services. Kongxu the Hermit lived in an old shrine built in a secluded fold of the hills near the next town to the north. A brick-and-plaster wall enclosed the shrine, its gate unlocked and unguarded, though Belle felt the tingle of some kind of protection spell as she passed through. She was met by the hermit's acolyte in the outer yard. After explaining her mission and presenting the donation of ginseng, Belle was given permission to enter the main building.

"Her holiness will decide whether to receive you," said the acolyte. "Please respect that, and do not speak until spoken to. Do not enter the circle unless invited."

"I understand." Belle left the acolyte standing on the steps leading up to the porch while she pushed open the double doors and stepped inside. It took her a few seconds to adjust to the dim light of the shrine. Oil lamps burned in niches along the walls, illuminating rows of wooden statues of gods and saints unfamiliar to Belle. A larger figure dominated the far wall, while underneath it, an old woman in a faded blue nun's robe sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed and her hands on her knees with the palms up. A white-haired fly-whisk was laid across her lap. A painted circle arced around her, inscribed with the symbols of various elements and the eight trigrams.

The old woman gave no acknowledgement of her visitor. Belle was about to call out, then remembered the acolyte's instructions. She shuffled her feet as noisily as she dared, clearing her throat softly.

No response.

Thinking maybe she hadn't been properly respectful, Belle knelt down, lowering her head, as a supplicant might do in a royal court.

Still nothing.

She continued waiting, and the nun continued sitting, not even blinking. Belle wasn't sure how long she was expected to wait, but this was getting her nowhere. If the woman refused to help, that was one thing, but this was a waste of time all around. Belle stood up at last. Unwilling to leave without at least pleading her case, she called out softly, "Uh, excuse me? Your holiness...?"

When the old woman continued to ignore her, Belle raised her voice a notch. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude here, but please listen to me. People are in danger. We need your help..."

Belle stared into the shadows where the woman sat, trying to discern any reaction at all. She didn't even twitch. Belle was beginning to have a bad feeling about this. What if...no... but... Belle's suspicions took her a step closer. Then another, and she was at the edge of the circle. The hermit maintained her unearthly stillness even now. In fact, she had not moved at all in the whole time Belle had been here.

"Hello? Are you all right?" Deciding that this was no time to wait for an invitation, Belle stepped into the circle and stooped over to examine the old woman more closely. Was she even breathing? Belle reached down for the hermit's left wrist and checked for a pulse.

At that moment, the door opened again. It was the acolyte. "Ma'am? It's time to... Hey! What are you doing?" Her voice rose in shock.

"I...I think she may be..." Belle swallowed, not wanting to say it out loud, but what else could she do? "I can't find a pulse. I think she's dead."