Chapter Twenty-Three: Lonely People In Empty Rooms
The door gave way beneath her hand.
Emma paused, frowning, and glanced around warily. The decrepit palace had an air of menace hanging over it, and her instincts were telling her not to enter.
But night had fallen, and her choices were the palace or the forest. Neither was particularly welcoming, but she was fairly certain she wouldn't find any ogres wandering the palace halls, and that made going forward safer than turning back.
Unless, of course, Regina had hidden something far worse than ogres in her home. Which was a distinct possibility. Still...
Emma straightened her shoulders and stepped through the gate.
A large courtyard spread out before her. The ground of the courtyard was made up of dark slabs of something – black marble, perhaps – and weeds grew in the cracks between the stones. The wall that surrounded the palace rose several feet above Emma's head, casting long shadows across the ground. High above, a balcony of equally black stone jutted out from the palace walls, almost completely overshadowing the two large wooden doors that stood as entrance to the palace.
Emma walked forward resolutely.
As with the gate, the doors swung open underneath her touch, revealing a corridor with tall, sloped ceilings and heavy iron pillars in a state of disrepair.
Emma took a step forward, and the doors slammed shut behind her, plunging the place into darkness.
She froze, then reached out tentatively until her hand touched the wall. Using it as a guide, she crept forward along the corridor, tripping unsteadily over bits of broken marble. It was slow going, but as she moved further and further into the windowless hallway, her eyes began to adjust well enough to pick out the faint outlines of doors on either side of her, and a distant staircase in front.
Her hand hit something sharp, and she squinted until she could see the silhouette of what appeared to be two crossed swords on the wall.
She turned, and stumbled across the floor to the opposite wall, where she found two identically placed crossed battle-axes.
She breathed slowly, and felt unnaturally cold.
"This is ridiculous," she murmured to herself, shaking off the creeping fear. "A black, foreboding palace? Weapons on the walls? This is just all so – cliché."
Somehow, she'd expected something more unique from Regina.
She sighed, and pushed away the pointless thought. Turning from the crossed battle axes, she continued fumbling her way through the dark until she had reached the staircase. After groping around for a moment, her hand found a railing, and she began the somewhat painful process of attempting to climb half-ruined stairs barefoot in the dark.
Several minutes and a few stubbed toes later, she found herself at the top of the stairs, and the corridor before her was illuminated by moonlight streaming in from the open balcony. She walked onto the balcony, and caught her first glimpse of the land around her. The forest spread outwards, swallowing up the large road she had walked on, and eventually sloping downwards to the ocean. She could see the distant sea, could see starlight and moonlight reflecting off its surface.
In the darkness of the night, it was possible to ignore the destruction of the land.
In the darkness of the night, it was a beautiful view.
But the air was cold, and after a moment of staring out into the dark, Emma left the balcony.
The corridor on the second floor curved along the wall of the palace, and as such was dotted by open windows. The moonlight made it far easier to navigate, but being able to see the palace left Emma even more overwhelmed by the strangeness of this place, just as she had been when she and Mary Margaret had entered what should have been her nursery.
Near the end of the corridor, a large room opened up to one side, and Emma glanced inside. The walls of the room were covered in black and dark blue tapestries. There was a giant four-poster bed with heavy drapes on one side of the room, and an ornate side table perched next to it. The table was draped in a embroidered black cloth, and a beautiful – and cracked – gold vase stood in the center of it. Behind the vase was a large, varnished candelabra with half-burnt candles still in its branches.
Emma ran her fingers over the long crack in the vase, and felt a shiver of something run down her spine. There was meaning in this vase - something important, something special.
The strangeness of that thought made her frown. How did she know this? How could she possibly know anything about this vase when she had never been here before?
She chewed her lip for a moment, then turned to survey the rest of the room. To one side of the bed was a large fireplace with an ornate mantle. Two armchairs with overstuffed black cushions sat before the fireplace, an side table between them. Opposite the bed was an gray vanity with a large mirror. There was a hairbrush on the vanity, and another vase. Next to the vase were several books.
Emma stared at them, and tried to imagine Regina sitting here, brushing her hair. But something about the image just struck her as wrong. She couldn't picture Regina in this room.
The room had a small balcony to one side, and was open to the elements. A cool breeze blew through, and Emma hugged her jacket close around her shoulders. It was cold, and she was tired…
And the warm covers of the bed looked so inviting.
She let out a long breath. "I'll look around tomorrow," she murmured tiredly, and stumbled towards the bed.
She woke to sunlight hitting her in the face, and groaned. For a moment, she had no idea where she was. The bed was soft and the comforter warm, and yet all of it was unfamiliar.
Then she opened her eyes and saw the room and remembered.
She pushed the covers aside and climbed out of bed. Her bare feet landed on the floor, and she expected it to be cold, but the stone had absorbed heat from the sunlight and was warm to the touch.
She looked around. She'd discarded her jacket the night before, tossing it next to the cracked vase on the table before climbing into bed. She picked it up now, and draped it over her shoulders, then padded silently towards the door.
As she did so, she passed by the vanity and glanced down. Her eyes landed on the books once more, and she frowned, then picked one up curiously. The cover was a warm off-white, and it was beautifully bound with a pale blue and pink ribbon, and it did not look anything like something Regina would own.
She flipped through the pages.
It was a diary, and it was empty.
On the inside cover, there was an inscription.
For my dearest Eva, on the occasion of our daughter's birthday.
All my love, Leopold.
Leopold was Snow White's father, Emma knew, and she could only assume that Eva was Snow's mother. But why would Regina have the diary?
Why would Regina have an empty diary?
Emma shook her head, puzzled, and set the diary back down on the vanity. She glanced around the room once more, still not quite sure what it was about the place that made her so uneasy. It seemed like an ordinary bedroom – excluding, of course, that it was a royal bedroom in a palace in a magical world – and unlike the courtyard and the corridor on the floor below, this room didn't even feel that menacing.
In fact, with the tapestries dappled in early morning sunlight, the place seemed almost… homey.
But there was still something off about it - something that didn't quite fit with the rest of the palace. The warmth and comfort that seemed to seep from the walls was covered with something hard and cold, like a brittle lacquer that couldn't quite conceal what was underneath.
Emma blinked, surprised. Where had that thought come from?
She shook her head, disturbed by the strange... vibes... she was getting from the palace. And then an even more disturbing thought hit her.
"I really hope this wasn't Regina's bedroom," Emma muttered, shivering. The fact that she might have slept in Regina's bed, that she might be having appreciative thoughts about the decorations of Regina's bedroom… that was too much.
She turned, and walked briskly out of the room.
In the corridor, she paused for a moment and considered her options. The smart thing to do would be to walk back to the main balcony and see if she could spot Lake Nostos from there. She had to get to the lake, after all, and as intriguing as Regina's palace was, it wasn't going to help her find a way home.
And yet…
As far as she was concerned, Regina still couldn't be trusted. The more she had seen of the life she was supposed to have had, the life Mary Margaret and David had planned for her, the angrier it had made her. Regina had thrown away everything precious in her own life – had ripped out her own father's heart – to cause Snow White's suffering, and had ruined Emma's life in the process.
Not to mention everything she had attempted to do to Emma during the past year in Storybrooke.
Emma gritted her teeth. They might share a son, and Regina might truly love Henry, but the blonde wasn't convinced that that was enough. If it came down to it, what was to stop Regina from trying to take Henry away from her? What was to stop her from trying to kill Mary Margaret and David again?
What was to stop her from succeeding?
But there might be something here that could give Emma an idea of Regina's weaknesses. There might be something that could give her the upper hand, should they become enemies again.
With that thought in mind, she turned away from the main balcony and ventured further into the palace.
After a few minutes of wandering haphazardly through a labyrinth of interconnecting hallways, Emma found herself standing in what appeared to be a large banquet room. The high ceiling sloped into a dome at the center, and large chandeliers hung in each corner of the room, their candles covered in cobwebs. Thin cracks spiraled out along the walls, giving the impression that the ceiling could implode at any moment.
There was a single throne at the front of the room, one made out of dark red wood with black upholstery. It was angular, all sharp lines and edges, and the wood was covered with woven silver that spread over the back of the seat like a spider's web.
Emma glanced down at the raised platform on which the throne stood, and noticed with interest that the white and black marble of the platform had two sets of bolts in it, as though there had once been two thrones here instead of one.
There were several tables along the walls, each one draped in dark red cloth, and chairs set out at each table, facing the throne. The furnishings were decadent, the room filled with the lavish excess of people with too much money and not enough ways to spend it.
Emma touched one of the table cloths, and frowned. The curse had left the room damaged, as it had done with everything else in the land, but unlike Mary Margaret's castle, this room felt… vacant. The cloth was pressed stiff and starched, as though it had never been used. As though no one had ever set a plate or utensil on the table, as though no one had ever sat on the accompanying chair.
Emma shook her head, bewildered, and then looked around the room once more.
"You had all this, Regina," she said bitterly. "Why wasn't it enough for you? Why did you have to steal my childhood and my family?"
There was no answer from the empty room.
With a sigh, she walked out of the banquet hall. As soon as she stepped out of the room, however, she stopped and frowned in surprise, trying to figure out where she was. She must have walked across the full width of the palace, because now she was at the back of it, standing in another courtyard.
Only this courtyard was very different.
The palace was built on the slope of a hill, and this courtyard was still at the level of the second floor. To one side of the courtyard, a series of hills continued to rise gently, covered in thick forest, until they reached the snowline and became steep and treacherous mountains. To the other side of the courtyard, the hills gave way to the forest, and then to a beach, and to the ocean.
The courtyard was in the shape of an octagon. Each side was mostly open window, with benches lining the spaces between the corners. One side was completely open and led out into the forest. The ground was covered in pebbles, and in the center was knee-high enclosure, also in the shape of an octagon, surrounding a mound of dirt.
Emma walked over to the enclosure and stared at it. Something had grown here, in the center of this courtyard. Something important had been planted here, given a spot at the very center of attention, almost as though the courtyard had been built for it.
It took Emma only a fraction of a second to know what it was.
"The apple tree," she said quietly. This was where Regina's apple tree had stood.
But Regina had taken the tree with her to Storybrooke. She had apparently left behind nearly everything else, much of the trappings and splendor of her palace, but she had taken the tree.
Why had it meant so much to her?
There was nothing else in the courtyard, and after a moment Emma turned her back on the place where the precious apple tree had once stood and continued her exploration of the palace. The corridor took her to another staircase, and she wandered down that and found herself standing in a great hall that seemed to serve as both a corridor and a room. It stretched out before her, high curved walls sloping to a domed ceiling, sunlight pouring in through open windows and scattering shadows across the black marble floor.
In the center of all this stood a large and elaborate mirror.
Emma walked over to it, shivering slightly. She pulled her jacket more tightly around herself, and gazed at the mirror curiously. It seemed to be the only thing in this room – or, at least, the only thing left behind. Whatever else had stood here once, Regina had apparently taken it all to Storybrooke. Only the mirror remained.
She touched the clear glass, an ironic smile curling at her lips. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall…" she murmured, shaking her head.
She hadn't given it much thought. Regina was twisted and malicious and controlling and vindictive – that much she accepted without hesitation. She'd seen what the woman had been willing and able to do without magic, and even if she didn't know the full extent of Regina's powers or the full history of her interactions with Mary Margaret – with Snow White – she had no trouble believing that Regina was capable of everything Henry had accused her of. But she had accepted it all in a vague and detached sort of way.
This mirror, though…
She hadn't really given much thought to the notion that Regina – her son's adopted mother – was the Evil Queen from the Snow White fairytale. Someone specific. Someone evil.
She'd allowed her son to be raised by a villain. A dark magic-wielding, murder-plotting, curse-casting villain.
She stepped away from the mirror, her stomach twisting painfully.
How could she reconcile that truth with the woman whose entire expression had lit up with the revelation that her son wanted her protected from the Wraith? Or had that all been a lie?
No.
Emma pushed the thought away. Regina loved Henry – she knew that. She believed it.
But did that excuse what she had done? Did love for a child mean that the horrors she had committed – whether with her own two hands or through manipulation and magic – could be overlooked?
She looked back at the mirror. In the Disney version of the story, the Evil Queen died by falling off a cliff. In the original story, the ending was different – though Emma couldn't remember the details. She was fairly certain, however, that the Evil Queen met a worse fate, and at the hands of Snow White and her Prince Charming.
Some part of her wanted that. A horribly fitting ending for Regina, for the woman whose bloodthirsty quest for revenge had stolen away Emma's happiness for twenty-eight years, and who had lied and manipulated her to keep her away from Henry during the last year. At the very least, she wanted to rid herself and her family of the constant threat of Regina, wanted to keep her away from Henry so that she couldn't twist him to her darkness – and wanted to make the other woman know what it felt like to be alone.
But.
Regina was Henry's mother. And whether or not that should mean something, it did.
For a moment, Emma closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the mirror was glowing.
It was quick – a ripple of light that ran down the surface of the glass and disappeared. Fast enough that Emma might have imagined it, or perhaps had merely mistaken the reflection of sunlight for something else. But there was a hint of warmth around the mirror, something strange and out of place – and familiar.
Magic.
She glanced around the great hall in confusion.
There had been magic here. Brief, and fleeting, but Emma was sure she had felt it.
Eventually, Emma had resumed her wandering, and the room she found herself in now left her breathless. It was empty and ordinary, and not even that large, and nothing about it would have caught her attention, except…
The walls were lined with boxes.
Each box was empty, but they hadn't been. Emma knew that – just as she knew, without really thinking about it, what exactly had been in them.
"Graham," she whispered, horrified. Another life lost because she hadn't been able to believe. Graham had told her that he didn't have a heart, but she'd heard it beating and dismissed his frantic entreaties as metaphoric, never realizing the danger that had lingered there. She'd challenged Regina that night in the cemetery, and when Graham had walked away with her, she had been so sure that she had won.
She hadn't.
Emma bit back a half-mad laugh and ran her finger over the outside of one of the boxes. She'd let Graham past her walls, and she'd held him in her arms when he died.
Regina might be Henry's mother, but this – how could Emma overlook this?
"How many hearts did you take, Regina?" she spat to the empty room. "How many lives did you destroy?"
There were so many memories she had done her best to bury – nights huddled in the dark, underfed and ignored, wishing for a new family – a better family. But that family had never materialized, and eventually life in the system had been traded for life on the streets, and either way she'd felt alone and abandoned until-
No.
She shook her head. She would not think about him.
She looked around the room again, bitterness growing. Resentment and fury coalesced into a hard ball in the pit of her stomach.
"Was it worth it?" she demanded, picturing Regina and her infuriating smirk standing before her. "Did it make you happy? All the lives you ruined – everything you touched, everything you destroyed…"
She spun on her heel and stormed from the room, unable to remain a moment longer.
Storming haphazardly up several staircases and down corridors through the castle eventually brought Emma to another bedroom. The room was circular, and, unlike the others she had seen, had only one window. The rest of the walls bore a variety of mirrors. A desk with two candelabras stood before the window. There was a large bed at the other end of room, and a small table next to it. A fireplace with a black marble mantle was carved into the wall near the window. In front of the fireplace was a fainting couch and another small table, both draped in black silk. A closet with half-open doors revealed a wardrobe of elaborate outfits.
Emma walked over to the window. It looked out over the small courtyard that had once housed the apple tree.
She leaned against the wall, her hand accidentally bumping into a mirror. As soon as her skin touched the cool glass, something hot crackled underneath her fingers, causing her to jump back in surprise, almost as if she had been burned.
She stared at the wall, and then down at her own hand. The skin was unblemished, but she could feel the heat radiating from her palm.
Reaching out carefully, she rested the tips of her fingers against the mirror once more. The time the glass felt cold, and there was no reaction to her touch.
She frowned, and then turned around to survey the room intently. The sheets and blankets on the bed were rumpled slightly, and a hideous red dress with far too many accessories was sliding off its hanger in the closet and spilling onto the floor. The table next to the bed held an open jewelry box, and a black pearl necklace lay beside it. The cloth draped over the fainting couch was pulled unevenly to one side.
This room had been used right before the curse was cast, and had remained empty since then.
"Regina's bedroom," she surmised.
She took a few steps to the desk and noticed there was a pitcher and bowl there, though both were empty, and next to the bowl was a sharp knife.
The room was smaller than the one that held Eva's diary, and appeared to be in a more distant part of the castle. Why, Emma wondered vaguely, would Regina choose this for her bedroom?
A sudden breeze blew in through the window, and despite the warm sunlight, Emma shivered.
Then she looked down at herself.
"Well, I'm not really wearing clothes," she remarked dryly.
Her eyes moved back towards Regina's closet. She had no desire to wear any of the Evil Queen's clothing, but this was the first room that had actually had clothing in it, and Emma wasn't entirely sure she would find another. She didn't remember any clothing in the room with Eva's diary, and – had she even encountered another bedroom?
Frowning at that, she felt her eyes pulled towards the closet, and with a sigh she crossed the room and flung the doors wide.
"What is this?" she exclaimed in a mixture of amusement and horror, pulling on the skirt of one particularly flamboyant dress. Black silk bunched at the waist and poured out in a slinky skirt that would have been stunning had the top of the dress not been an explosion of black feathers culminating in a stiff black collar.
Emma shook her head and smirked. "Clearly, fashion was not one of Regina's strengths," she commented to herself, rolling her eyes and letting the dress fall back into the closet.
Unless this was considered high fashion in this land? It wasn't as though Emma had seen any of Snow White's royal clothing during her tour of her mother's castle, so she really couldn't judge. Perhaps all royalty dressed like this.
Well, there was no accounting for taste.
The next outfit Emma pulled out was marginally better. The pants were black leather, and were paired with a structured deep red dress that split at the waist and fell to the floor. It looked uncomfortable, but not as ridiculous as the black feather monstrosity, except…
"Is that necklace made out of safety pins?" Emma asked incredulously, reaching up to run a finger over the necklace that was draped over the hanger.
Then she lifted her eyes and saw the shelf that ran across the top of the large closet. It was covered in hats. Hats with feathers, hats with lace and chiffon and mesh, hats with jewels and beads and strange embroidery. Large hats, small hats, tiny hats that looked as though they could not possibly stay on anyone's head.
She shook her head, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips.
After sorting through several other dresses, Emma finally pulled a dark blue dress with embroidered silver along the collar and around the waist. It wasn't too bad, and at least it didn't have any excess frills that would too easily get stuck on tree branches or trip her up if she needed to run from ogres again. But the skirt was slightly too long, and the sleeves looked ridiculous, and the shoulder pads certainly didn't help matters.
But at least she wouldn't be wandering around in a bra and underwear anymore.
Then Emma remembered the knife.
Hurrying back to the desk by the window, she snatched up the knife, and in one swift move sliced the skirt off at the knees. The extra fabric fell to the floor in a puddle, and Emma kicked it aside before turning her attention to the sleeves. Those were cut off as well, and the shoulder pads were ripped out, and then Emma squeezed herself into the newly modified outfit, slid her jacket back on, and turned to study herself in the mirror.
The skirt was uneven where she had cut it, and the silver was still a bit much, but besides that, it looked… somewhat normal. At least it was something she wouldn't be that embarrassed to wear in the real world – the world she'd grown up in.
"Pants would be better," she mused, glancing at the closet again, "but all she has is leather and that doesn't look comfortable."
This would have to do.
"She's destroying my clothing!"
"She cut up one dress, Regina, and at least she's wearing clothes now," David answered impatiently, barely taking his eyes off the mirror.
Regina glared at him.
The four of them sat at the table. She, Sidney, and the Mother Superior all had their fingers resting on the edge of the mirror, and though Regina was loathe to admit it, with the addition of the Mother Superior's magic, it was not only much easier to hold the connection between the mirrors, but Sidney had even been able to follow Emma through the palace by jumping from mirror to mirror.
Before the Mother Superior had arrived, Sidney had only been able to sustain the connection for a few minutes, and they had lost Emma. But with the Mother Superior's help they'd found her again, storming out of the room that had once been Regina's vault of hearts. David had given Regina a quick, unreadable look then, but he had looked back at the mirror – at his daughter – and had not taken his eyes off of Emma since then.
He'd also reluctantly allowed Sidney to look at Emma in her half-dressed state after the one-time genie had pointed out that it would be impossible for him to try to find Emma and follow her through the palace if David was still covering his eyes. David had agreed with that – but he was still very clearly relieved that Emma had now put on more clothing.
Regina watched as Emma studied herself in the mirror. She had no real attachment to that blue dress – to any of her dresses. But it galled her to watch Emma wander through her home, inspecting everything as though it was some kind of museum. As though she had every right to sift through the debris of Regina's life.
And now she was tearing apart and wearing Regina's clothing.
The brunette gritted her teeth, and the anger that coiled in her stomach rushed into her magic and caused the image in the mirror to momentarily distort.
She felt Sidney and the Mother Superior both look at her, and she let out a breath, allowing the image of Emma walking out of her room to return to its previous clarity.
Glancing at Sidney, she took in the strain in his eyes. This might be easier for her, now that the Mother Superior was lending her own magic, but it was still taxing for Sidney. She didn't know how much longer he would be able to hold the connection.
More importantly, she wasn't entirely sure what they were supposed to do now. It was true that they had located Emma and confirmed that she was still alive, but how to reach her? Would Sidney really have the ability to communicate through the mirror without getting pulled into it? And even if he could, they still didn't know how to get Emma out.
She bit her lip and slanted a glance at David. Sooner or later he would start demanding that they make a plan, and his habit of rushing into situations without thinking would not help. Particularly without Mary Margaret here to reason with him.
Regina looked back at the image of Emma walking through her palace.
Emma had reacted to the magic.
Regina had seen it, though she wasn't sure what it meant. First when Emma had noticed the ripple in the main mirror in the Great Hall, and later when she had burned her hand on the mirror in Regina's bedroom. She had somehow sensed the magic in the mirrors that Regina and Sidney were using to watch her.
Was that good or bad? Would it help them make contact with her, or would it complicate matters?
She wasn't sure if David had noticed it – maybe he had missed Emma's preoccupation with the mirror in the Great Hall, but he must have seen the way she had jumped back from the mirror in the bedroom. But did he know what it meant? Did he suspect that Emma had magic?
Did any of them know what Emma was capable of? Regina certainly didn't – but she had a feeling it would be important to find out.
She stared at the mirror as Emma wandered down a flight of steps into the heart of the palace.
Into a bedroom.
A child's bedroom.
She watched as Emma stopped and looked around in surprise, eyes reflecting her bewilderment. She watched as Emma walked over to a dresser and picked up a beautiful painting of a small white flower and studied it intently. She watched as Emma walked over to the bed and picked up a book, flipping through the pages. She watched as Emma ran her fingers over the pristine white sheets on the bed, and the white lace that trimmed the edge of the pillows.
And she watched as the realization dawned in Emma's gaze.
"Snow White," Emma whispered, surprised. She turned in a slow circle. "Eva's diary. A banquet hall that used to have two thrones. A room for Snow White." She blinked, then shook her head. "This was Leopold's palace. Snow White's castle. Regina – you took it. And kept it."
She wasn't sure why that surprised her so much. Perhaps she had simply assumed that Snow White would have taken back her home after defeating the Evil Queen. But Prince Charming had his castle as well, and they had clearly decided to live there instead. And maybe it had been too hard to take the palace from Regina? Maybe it had been guarded by dark magic or fearsome armies or dangerous beasts?
She chewed her lip thoughtfully.
"But why did you keep Snow White's belongings? Why did you keep Eva's diary? Why did you…?" She trailed off, vaguely aware that she was talking to Regina, and recognizing that that was ridiculous, because Regina couldn't hear here, and couldn't answer.
Still, it didn't make sense. Everything she had learned about the Evil Queen – which was admittedly not that much – had indicated that the other woman would have destroyed anything belonging to her rivals as soon as she had the opportunity. So why she had held onto it?
There was something missing here. Some pieces of the puzzle that would align everything properly, if Emma could just figure it out.
Snow White's bedroom was neatly organized, just as Eva's bedroom had been. Nothing was out of place, nothing was carelessly scattered about. Regina's bedroom had shown signs of use, but these did not.
Emma frowned.
Neither had the banquet hall or any of the other rooms she had wandered through. In fact, Regina's bedroom was the only room in the entire castle that looked as though it had been used. Everything else was too orderly, too pristine, too untouched.
"An entire palace," Emma murmured, "and only one room that looked like home."
She was still contemplating this unsettling bit of information when the mirror on the wall exploded.
The mirror spun across the table as Sidney slumped over, nearly toppling out of his chair. The connection broke sharply, Emma's image disappearing as a pulse of magic rushed through the room. Regina caught the mirror before it could fall, and David instinctively reached out to steady the now unconscious Sidney.
Regina pursed her lips. "It's too much for him," she said, frustrated. She gave Sidney's still form a brief look, then pushed her chair back and stood up, turning away from them, still holding the mirror. "And if he can't hold the connection, he definitely won't be able to communicate with her."
"But at least we know she's alive," David answered. "At least we know where she is. That's a start."
Regina felt his eyes on her back, his gaze demanding agreement from her. But whatever faith David might have, she did not share his opinion, and that only made her more displeased.
Her disappointment was unsettling – shouldn't she be happy that reaching Emma was proving to be more challenging than even she had anticipated?
She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, feeling the migraine pound against her skull.
"It is a start," Mother Superior said quietly. "Don't give up hope, David."
Regina turned around and placed the mirror on the table. "What good does it do to know where Miss Swan is when we cannot reach her?" she snapped irritably.
"We'll get Emma back," David retorted fiercely, narrowing his eyes at her as though to accuse her of not trying hard enough.
"We know where Miss Swan is, and we know that we can create a connection to that world – even if it is a tenuous one. We can build on this," Mother Superior said, giving Regina a penetrating look and a slight frown.
Regina shifted her weight from one foot to the other and said sardonically, "If you have an idea, please do share it with the rest of us. I seem to be all out."
"You should not give up hope, either, Regina," Mother Superior chided. "Your ideas and your magic have gotten us this far."
Regina rolled her eyes. Far enough to give everyone – to give Henry – false hope. She wasn't entirely sure that was something to be proud of.
"But perhaps it would be best if you allowed Mr. Glass and I to attempt this again later," Mother Superior added. "Your magic and mine do not combine well, and perhaps it would be easier for him if…"
"You're blaming me for this?" Regina demanded furiously, gesturing to the unconscious Sidney. "It is not my fault the magic is complicated and requires so much power and energy!"
"I am merely stating a fact," Mother Superior replied calmly, unruffled by Regina's somewhat irrational anger. Then a concerned look passed over her features and she added, "And it might be better for you as well if you were not involved in the next attempt. A chance to rest might…"
"I'm fine," Regina interrupted, spitting out the words through clenched teeth. She would not show weakness in front of the Mother Superior – even if the weakness was something that everyone could see.
As if occurring at just that moment to disprove her comment, a wave if dizziness passed through her and she had to grab the back of the chair for support.
Sidney groaned and started to stir.
All eyes turned to him for a moment, then David looked up at Regina and said, "I see no reason not to try it, Regina. If Mother Superior thinks it could help…"
"We need more power, not less," Regina retorted.
"The magic inside of you is too dark, too dangerous," Mother Superior interjected, still giving Regina that same infuriatingly concerned look. "It's taking its toll on you – and that is obvious to all of us."
Regina let go of the chair and took a step towards the Mother Superior, fury dancing in her eyes. "I have been more than capable of controlling my magic in the past, I see no reason why it should be any different now."
Mother Superior rose to her feet and lifted her chin, a spark of determination flashing through her expression. "First of all," she said in a tone that, though quiet and even, was underlined with steel, "don't mistake using magic for controlling it. And don't overlook all the ways in which your magic controls you."
"Don't lecture me!"
"Second," the Mother Superior continued as though Regina had not spoken, "everything is different now because magic is different here. You know that as well as I do, and relying on what you were or were not able to do in the past is not the wisest course of action. And third…" her expression melted into something softer, and she asked, "Can't you feel it?"
"Feel what?" Regina demanded.
"The curse inside of you," Mother Superior answered, bringing one hand to rest on Regina's chest, directly above her heart. "It is not your magic, but someone else's – and it is feeding on you. Draining your strength, sapping your power. It is hurting you. Can't you feel it?"
Regina was dimly aware of David hovering in the background, trying to figure out if he should intervene in an argument between two powerfully magical beings. She was likewise dimly aware of Sidney sitting up and rubbing his eyes in confusion. But it was the feel of the Mother Superior's hand on her heart – and the pain there – that held her focus.
"I…" Regina shook her head. "My magic has felt different since my mother returned," she said, "but I don't see how…"
"This doesn't have to do with your mother," Mother Superior interrupted. "At least, not directly." She glanced at David. "I was told you absorbed a curse at the well the day Cora arrived. A curse powerful enough to destroy anyone who attempted to come through the portal. If it was strong enough to kill, did you really believe it would have no affect on you?"
Regina should have been annoyed that the Mother Superior was lecturing her on the elements of magic as though she was a child or some novice apprentice who knew nothing about any of this. She should have been surprised at the steely resolve in the Mother Superior's tone, a show of strength that was so often absent in the powerfully Good being. She should have been angry at the invasion of privacy that was clearly implied in the Mother Superior's words – that she, and probably Sidney, had been able to sense quite a bit about Regina's magic, emotions, and maybe even memories by forming the connection with her.
But.
"I thought… I mean, I felt tired, but my mother was here and I…" Regina stumbled over the words, murmuring them to herself. She had assumed the exhaustion, the weakness, the headaches resulted from a combination of lack of sleep due to worrying about her mother's presence and the normal toll of expending this much power. It had never even occurred to her that there could be some other underlying problem.
Shock lowered her defenses, made her open, vulnerable.
And then the shock wore off.
She immediately schooled her face into a blank expression and, meeting the Mother Superior's gaze with a defiant expression, said, "I can deal with the consequences of what I did. All magic comes with a price, and I know that. I am not weak, and I see no reason to let this setback stop us. You need my power."
"That curse fed on the magic of the portal," the Mother Superior replied. "That's how it worked, that's how it was strong enough to kill. But the portal's gone now, and the curse is inside of you. So it is feeding on your magic. And the more magic you use, the stronger it gets." She waited just long enough for Regina to understand the implication of that, then said, "And if you continue using magic, it will become strong enough to kill you."
There was a moment of silence.
"Can you get the curse out of her?" David asked.
Regina started, having forgotten that he was even in the room.
The Mother Superior gave Regina a scrutinizing stare. "I don't know," she admitted. "I didn't even know she was carrying that magic until today, until we formed the connection. I might be able to, but…" She glanced over at David. "It would help to know more about the curse."
David was surprisingly perceptive, and understood immediately what she was saying.
"Then we had better talk to Gold," he said.
"He won't help us," Regina countered pointedly, "and it is a waste of time anyway. I am strong enough to handle this."
She wasn't really sure why she was arguing – if David didn't want her help, then let them find a way to rescue Emma on their own. What did she care if they were successful or not? She was doing this for Henry, and only for Henry, and he wouldn't blame her for acquiescing to David's idiotic request.
"Mother Superior obviously doubts that," David retorted firmly, making it clear that Regina's assertion meant nothing to him. "If your magic is killing you and making it hard for her to help Sidney connect with Emma, I see no reason for you to continue."
"You don't want my help?" Regina scoffed. "Because you've felt very differently about that these past few weeks."
David flushed at the accusation of hypocrisy, then said, "I'm surprised you're fighting this hard to help. It's not like you want Emma back."
"My feelings about Miss Swan are irrelevant," Regina hissed. "I am doing this for Henry."
"Because if Henry didn't care about Emma then she would deserve to die alone in our homeland?" David retorted viciously. "You have no sense of right and wrong, or good and evil – if Henry doesn't know about it, it doesn't matter to you?"
"You fools always put too much emphasis on your black and white notions of the world," Regina spat. "And you hypocritically refuse to see that you, too, value the people you love over the people you don't."
"This argument is not helping matters," Mother Superior interrupted. "Regina, just let Mr. Glass and I try this without you once. Let us see if it works."
"This is ridiculous…"
"You're going to listen to the Mother Superior," David demanded tersely. This was clearly an order, and he expected her to follow it. "Let them try this without you at least once. If your presence is detrimental to communicating with Emma and is putting you in danger, I see no reason for you to continue with this."
"Why do you care if it hurts me?" Regina retorted, bristling at his assumption that he could tell her what to do. "Isn't it what you've always wanted? My death - and now you could obtain it without having to get your own hands dirty. You wouldn't even be implicated at all. The Evil Queen killed herself. Overuse of her own dark magic."
"I don't care if you die," David answered, "but if it doesn't help Emma, it seems like a waste."
"My death a waste? I thought it would be a cause for celebration," Regina shot back bitterly.
David stared at her for a long moment, then sighed suddenly and said, "Henry can tell when you're lying to him."
"I – what?"
"Last night, when he asked whether or not this magic you were doing hurt, and you told him that it didn't, that it was merely tiring… he knew that was a lie," David explained slowly, his gaze never leaving Regina's face. "After you left to find Mary Margaret, he asked me to… to watch out for you. He wants Emma back, desperately – but he doesn't want to lose you in the process. Not if there is any other way. And I promised him that I would do whatever I could to make sure he had both his mothers." He shook his head slowly, still staring at her. "I stopped Snow from killing you once because I knew how much that action would cost her. I can protect you again if it means protecting Henry from being hurt." He paused, a sardonic smile curling his lips, and then threw her own words back at her, "My feelings about you are irrelevant. I'm doing this for Henry."