Chapter Twenty-Four: Confrontations
"We're closed."
David ignored the comment and strode purposefully forward. Gold could say what he wanted about the shop being closed, but David had no interest in listening. He had a promise to keep, and if Gold had answers, David had no intention of leaving empty-handed.
"The curse Regina absorbed at the well," he said, "how do we get it out of her?"
Gold looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Get it out of her?" he repeated, amused. Leaning heavily on his cane, he asked, "After all the trouble she went to to absorb it initially? Removing it seems like rather a waste." And as though to end the conversation, he turned away from David and began busying himself by organizing some artifacts on the counter.
David narrowed his eyes, refusing to be put off by this avoidance tactic. "Did you know?" he asked sharply. "Did you know it would kill her?"
Gold paused, and David caught a glimmer of some emotion in the older man's face before he replied pointedly, "It was a death curse, designed to kill. Of course I knew it was dangerous to her." He wiped one hand on his coat and looked at David again. "But it was her decision to make - and a decision I greatly opposed, by the way."
David curled his hand into a fist, feeling a surge of anger at how carelessly Gold dismissed Regina's life. Granted, he had no real desire to save the woman beyond his promise to Henry, but he would never act so amused at someone else's death - even an enemy's.
"How do we get it out of her?" he asked again.
Gold gave a careless one-shoulder shrug. "I doubt you can, dearie," he answered uninterestedly. At the concern that flashed momentarily through David's eyes, he added, "But it feeds on magic - on her magic. I doubt it would be strong enough to kill her if she simply stopped using magic." He tilted his chin up to regard David with a look of mock thoughtfulness. "And isn't that what she was trying to do for her son, anyway? Abstain from magic?"
"Things are different right now, Gold - and you know that," David countered.
"Are they? Not my concern."
"Because of some deal you made with Cora?" David demanded. "Do you really think this is what Cora wants? For you to let her daughter die?"
"If you think she is invested in Regina's welfare, maybe you should go to her for help," Gold suggested dryly. He let his words hover in the silence for a moment, as though half-expecting David to take that advice and start searching for Cora. But when there was no immediate answer to his statement, he sighed and continued, "Perhaps I simply have no desire to help her Majesty."
"Then help us – help Emma," Charming argued. "We might need Regina to get her back."
"Ah – but that would be breaking the deal with Cora, wouldn't it?" And Gold turned his back on David once more – the conversation was over.
Belle pushed open the doors to the library and stepped through, blinking as the glaring sunlight gave way to the dim light of bookshelf-lined room. It was late morning, and though she usually arrived early at the library each day, it was harder now. The library reminded her of Rumple, and looking at the books left her feeling bitter and betrayed.
And guilty.
She didn't want that feeling, didn't think she deserved it, but that did not change the fact that it lingered on, tormenting her. She had made a promise once, to herself and to the Evil Queen – I'll fight for him! I'll never stop fighting for him! And where had that gotten her?
You already tried and failed. That monster's beyond saving. I'm sparing you a lifetime of pain and misery.
The Evil Queen's words echoed in her mind as she glanced down at the necklace at her throat. She had given up on Rumpelstiltskin, and though she questioned that decision every day, she could not deny that she had a very good reason for it. She loved him more than anything, and certainly did not believe him a monster... but how could she let him do this to her? How could she lose herself – lose who she wanted to be – to him?
She shook her head and pushed the thought away, but the guilt - the doubt - lingered.
Lifting her gaze from the necklace, she surveyed the library quickly, making sure that nothing was out of place. If she could not push away these unwanted thoughts through sheer force of will, she could at least do her best to focus on something else.
And that was when she saw the man standing in the shadows of the stacks, watching her with a smirk.
"I'm sorry," she said, surprised at his presence, "but the library isn't open." How had he even gotten in to the building? She was sure she had locked the doors last night.
"Oh, I'm not here for the books, love," the man replied, and stepped into the light.
He was tall and dark, and wore a long leather trench coat that hid the rest of his outfit from her view. But she recognized his face – and she recognized the hook he wore in place of a hand.
"You," Belle breathed, taking a step backwards. Her eyes flicked around the room once, confirming that they were alone, then she pressed on with a frantically hammering heart, "You're the one who broke into my cell at the Queen's palace." He grinned, and she darted away from him, putting a large cart of books in between herself and the pirate. "You wanted to kill Rumpelstiltskin!"
She might be furious with her true love right now – she might have even given up on him – but she could not let him be killed by this man.
"Oh, I still do," the pirate agreed, stalking her in a predatory manner. He smirked, and his eyes gleamed with anticipation as he flung the cart aside. It went careening across the floor, spraying books everywhere, and Belle had no time to react before he had grabbed her by her arms. He leered down at her, "But right now, I'll settle for you."
There was a sudden flash of blue light, and a searing heat pressed heavily into Belle's throat. The pirate flew backwards as though propelled by some unseen tremendous force and slammed into the wall opposite her, sliding to the floor in a heap.
Belle did not hesitate to bolt from the library.
On the sidewalk, she ran straight into David.
He caught her easily, stumbling back a step in surprise, and the frustrated expression he had been wearing melted into one of genuine concern. "Belle?" he asked.
She blinked up at him, her eyes slowly adjusting to the sunlight once more. It took her a moment to fully register his presence, but when she did, her panic subsided almost immediately. Logic took over quickly, and she said calmly, "There was a pirate in the library. I've seen him before; he wanted to kill Rumple, back when I was the Queen's prisoner." She paused, then added, "He has a hook for a hand."
David's eyes narrowed and a frown formed on his features; that description clearly meant something to him. "Stay behind me," he said cautiously, and stepped past her into the library. Belle followed at his heels.
The library was empty, but the signs of the fight remained. David took in the scattered books and overturned cart with a single, sweeping glance, then turned to Belle. "Is there another exit?"
"There's a small backdoor, but I never used it. It's still boarded up…"
The sound of a crash, of wood shattering and glass breaking interrupted her statement, and both she and David rushed forward through the stacks and the narrow corridor that lead into the back of the library. But by the time they reached it, the back door had been nearly torn off its hinges and the small window at in its center was broken.
The pirate was nowhere in sight.
David stared at the door for a long moment, then turned to Belle. "Hook didn't hurt you?" he asked.
Belle shook her head. "No. He tried, but he… no, he wasn't able…" she trailed off, one hand reaching up to touch the necklace gently.
It was still warm.
Cora ran her hand lightly over the parchment, studying the picture carefully. The fairy looked cheerful, her eyes filled with a bright light. The dwarf was grinning stupidly, a dreamy expression on his features. They were happy.
But happiness never lasted.
She flipped the page and stared at the next picture, a smug smile curling her lips. "My, my, Blue… you do interfere, don't you? And always with such good intentions. But I wonder…" She traced the lines of text with one finger until she found the name of interest. "Nova. I wonder, Nova, if you could perhaps be of use to me?"
Shaking her head with amusement, she turned back to the beginning of the story and began to read.
Nova tucked a few loose strands of dark hair into her hood and pulled the cloak tightly about her. The bright sun from the morning had disappeared behind several clouds, and now a light drizzle was starting to fall. She had no doubt it would soon become a heavier rain, or possibly even hail.
She quickened her steps.
Turning the corner, however, proved the drawback to walking quickly, and she soon collided with a figure coming in the other direction.
Heavy eyebrows drew together in surprise. "Nova."
Nova felt a flush creep up the back of her neck and onto her cheeks. "Dreamy," she breathed, surprised. "Or… I mean… Leroy, if you prefer that."
The one-time dwarf smiled – or, at least, did something that more or less resembled a smile. "I… uh… usually go by Leroy now, but you can call me Dreamy if you want. Or… well… Grumpy." He looked a little abashed at giving that name, and continued somewhat defensively, "Things changed after…"
"You left me?" Nova supplied when he did not finish the sentence. Her flush darkened then. "Sorry, I didn't mean…" She looked away, wrapping her arms around her chest as the light drizzle of rain turned into something harder. "I know you had your reasons. I know you were trying to…" She hesitated, faltering over the words. "I'm sorry it didn't make you happier."
"What makes you think I'm not happy?" Leroy demanded sharply.
Nova took a step back at the gruffness in his tone, then said, "You changed your name to Grumpy."
The curse had broken, and enough time had passed that Nova knew she could have sought out Leroy if she had wanted. But something had stopped her. Leroy was not the dwarf she had known in the Enchanted Forest, not the one who had stared in awe at the view of the lights from Firefly Hill. It was hard to reconcile this disagreeable, grouchy man with the dwarf she had loved.
But, while Leroy might not be similar to Dreamy, she felt he was probably fairly similar to Grumpy. He had changed, and this change wasn't because of the Evil Queen's curse.
Nova bit her lip.
He was the one who had insisted on leaving her. She had not done this to him – right?
Maybe it was her own fears that had stopped her from seeing him, from seeking a reconciliation. What had she ever been besides a clumsy, not-quite-good-enough fairy?
"I never thanked you for helping me, even when we were cursed," she said finally. Leroy gave her a puzzled look, and she elaborated, "With the candles. At the Miner's Day festival."
"Oh. Right."
"I mean, I did thank you – as Astrid. I haven't as… as Nova."
Leroy was silent for a moment, then asked, "Do you prefer being called Nova or… or Astrid?"
"Nova," was the immediate answer. It was bittersweet, though. Astrid hadn't been a particularly good nun, but Nova had been a downright lousy fairy. All she'd ever wanted was to be a fairy godmother, and now that the curse was broken that desire came back more strongly than ever – so what did it say about her that despite all her dreams, she made a better nun?
"You didn't know I changed my name to Grumpy?" Leroy asked suddenly, looking confused.
"No," Nova answered.
"I saw the Blue Fairy several times after…" Leroy stopped again, but Nova knew what he was going to say. They'd lived in the same land and he'd interacted with fairies enough during the war with Regina; how could she not have heard anything about him? How could she have missed something as significant as his entire name and personality changing?
She smoothed out the invisible wrinkles on her coat, focusing her attention on anything that would keep her from having to look at him.
The explanation was simple, but somehow also… shameful?
She didn't know anything about Dreamy's… Grumpy's… life after they'd said goodbye because she'd purposefully avoided interacting with anyone who might carrying news of him. She'd insisted to the Blue Fairy that she didn't want to know about him, didn't want to know how he was doing, didn't even want to hear his name – it hurt too much, and the temptation to find him and beg him to change his mind was too strong.
The Blue Fairy had, not surprisingly, complied with the request.
Did it make her a coward that she didn't want to think about what she had lost?
The rain picked up, shaking her from her reverie, and Leroy took her arm and led her to the relative safety of a shop overhang. The rain fell all around them, and Nova watched it splash in the puddles. She chewed her lip, feeling awkward.
"I wish we had gotten on that boat," Leroy said suddenly.
A lump formed in Nova's throat. "Do you? Really?" she asked, and hated that her voice shook, hated that she sounded so desperate. But Dreamy – or Grumpy, or Leroy, or whoever he was – had seen something in her. Something that was good enough. Something that she hadn't been able to see, something that no one else had seen – something that had been missing for far too long now.
She wanted that feeling back.
Leroy nodded. "I mean… I never would have met Snow, but I still think…" He gave her a long, searching look, then a tentative smile, "It would have been worth it."
Nova smiled, then asked, "How is Snow… uh, Mary Margaret?"
At that, Leroy's face twisted into a scowl. "Leah threw her in prison."
"What?"
Leroy shook his head. "Leah accused her of helping Red escape. The whole thing is absurd, and now apparently people are actually listening to King George."
"But… but…"
"And what makes it worse is that this whole thing started because someone murdered Moe French, and it's like everyone's forgotten about him. I mean, I don't see Leah out collecting evidence or getting a prosecutor. Have we even had a funeral for him?" Leroy stopped, breathing heavily for a moment, then said almost sheepishly, "I know most people don't care about him, but he was Belle's father, and that counts for something."
"Belle?"
Leroy nodded. "She's a friend of mine." He hesitated, then added, "She's the one who told me that what I was feeling for you was love."
It was an uncharacteristically open statement, and Nova was momentarily speechless. It was strange to hear Leroy use that word. It would have been strange even if he had still been Dreamy. They hadn't talked about love in their brief encounters. Neither of them had really known what love was, let alone that they were experiencing it.
Leroy pressed on, apparently not noticing Nova's surprise.
"I just wish I could help Snow. And Belle. I wish people could see that Leah's out for herself, and no one else. Even the people she claims to care about mean nothing to her." He sighed, and gave a half-hearted shrug. "But who's going to listen to me?"
"I'm listening to you," Nova said softly, resting a hand lightly on Leroy's arm.
After Nova had hurried away, needing to return to the convent, Leroy stood underneath the shop overhang, staring thoughtfully into the rain. Once Nova was completely gone from sight, a malicious smile curled his lips.
"Not my best work, but convincing enough," he said in satisfaction. "Now, my dear artless Nova, let's see just how much damage your good intentions can do."
And he stepped around the corner into an alley, and vanished in a puff of purple smoke.
He heard the shouting first.
After the pointless meeting with Gold and the concerning interaction with Belle, David had been on his way back to the sheriff's station to insist once more on being able to talk to his wife. Regardless of what Leah or anyone else said or believed, he would not be kept away from Mary Margaret. He'd break into the sheriff's station of he had to.
And it was there, approaching the station, that he heard the noise and then saw the commotion.
The street was mostly deserted, but a large crowd gathered around the entrance of the station, engaging in what appeared to be a heated argument with Leah, Stefan, Charles, and Midas. David paused across the street and simply stared at the mob, a bit shocked by the anger and dissatisfaction that was obvious on everyone's faces.
"They've been going at it for the last ten minutes or so," Leroy said, appearing at David's side with a smile of grim satisfaction curling his lips. "Looks like it's going to get ugly."
David frowned. It looked to him as though it had already gotten ugly.
Instead of going any closer to the brewing argument, he turned to Leroy and asked, "What happened? What set it off?"
"Don't know. They just showed up, demanding Mary Margaret be set free."
David's jaw dropped.
"Well… that and a bunch of other things," Leroy added with a careless shrug, interested only in what would help his friend. The plight of the others meant little to him, but he wanted Mary Margaret set free.
David switched his gaze back to the mob, and smiled slightly. No one had raised a finger to help Ruby, and some part of him had known all along that it would be next to impossible to convince the town to take the side of a werewolf. But Mary Margaret was a different story, and whatever the other royals thought of her, she did have the love and respect of most of her people. She had stood up to Regina, had fought the Evil Queen's ruthlessness, when no one else would.
Across the street, Stefan looked up and caught his gaze. The older king's expression immediately hardened into one of intense dislike, and he strode towards David determinedly, shoving his way through crowd without a thought for the people he pushed out of his way. Leah, noticing his movement, turned her attention to David as well. She seemed more hesitant, more reserved, but she followed her husband as he made his way to confront David, Charles and Midas hovering worriedly in the background.
The crowd followed then.
"You," Stefan snarled as he reached David, "you did this, didn't you? Thought you could free your wife by spreading lies about us, about her?" He grabbed David by the lapels of his coat, his face flushed with fury, and for a moment David thought Stefan might actually hit him.
Then Leah murmured warningly, "Stefan... don't." And she rested a hand on his arm.
"You should listen to her," Leroy added threateningly, tensing for a fight.
Stefan shook his head in disgust, but let go of David and shoved him backward.
David straightened his coat and said angrily, "I did nothing. If everyone here has suddenly realized that you're abusing your power, interested in doing only what will help you, that's not my fault."
"How dare you…?" Stefan seethed.
"Watch your tongue, James," Leah said softly, dangerously.
"It's David," David replied coolly. Turning to the crowd gathered, he said, "And I had nothing to do with this, did I? I didn't put any of you up to it."
"He didn't," a wizened old man said, nodding. "And I'm not so convinced that Snow White hasn't done something wrong. But I don't see how you locking her and the wolf away without given then a chance t' speak for themselves is helping anyone. I got a shop on the same street as Moe French, and I need t' know that I'm safe there."
"Of course you are safe," Leah said, her patience clearly wearing thin. "The person who killed Sir Maurice is in prison."
"You haven't proven that she's done it yet," a younger woman spoke up, jutting out her chin and holding Leah's gaze with impunity. "And I heard that she says she's innocent. If she's been framed, then the murderer is still out there. So how do any of us know that we are safe? Particularly given that we're all trapped here, unable to leave Storybrooke without forgetting ourselves."
"She's lying!" Stefan spat.
"Maybe, but I heard that Snow and James don't think she is, and I'll take their word over yours," came the unruffled reply.
David didn't recognize the speaker, but Snow ha always been better at identifying and remembering the people who lived in their land. Still, he could only assume by her words that this woman was loyal to him, and to Mary Margaret, and the others gathered around them seemed to echo that.
"The way I see it," another woman said, pulling a shawl over her shoulders and giving David a quick glance before turning her attention to Stefan, "you don't really have authority over us. Or over Snow."
"This isn't an issue of authority…" Leah began placating, but she was immediately interrupted by a chorus of protests.
"Of course it is."
"You ain't got the right to do anything…"
"I don't follow your laws."
A man stepped forward, his shoulders broad and his body muscular, and said, "You didn't protect us from the Evil Queen; Snow did. You didn't fight for us; Snow did. We're not yours; we're hers. This isn't your land, and we don't have to listen to your laws. So let her go and stop trying to impose your will on all of us."
"Not everyone in this town agrees with you about that," Leah replied coolly. "Not everyone gave Snow and James their loyalty."
"And not everyone gave you their loyalty," David said sharply. "And now you're using my wife as a scapegoat, and I – we – will not stand for that."
Several murmurs of assent followed his words.
"A scapegoat?" Leah asked, her voice becoming deathly quiet. "Is that what you think she is? A pure, good, never-does-anything-wrong woman who we're using to hold onto our power? Do you have any idea what kind of things she has done? Why should we trust her? Why should we believe her?"
"Why shouldn't you? What did she ever do to you?" Leroy cut in before David could reply.
"She abandoned my daughter!" Leah practically shouted. Her words were met with silence, and she took advantage of the sudden quiet to press on, "She left Aurora in that destroyed world we used to call home. Instead of trying to help her, to bring her here, she left my daughter alone, unarmed, and unable to protect herself in a land filled with ogres!"
"You're twisting what happened," David argued.
"Of course," Leah sneered, "because your precious Snow would never do anything like that."
"It was far more complicated a situation, and you would know that if you would have just listened to Mary Margaret's explanation instead of jumping to the conclusion that Aurora was abandoned," David retorted, defending his wife. He knew the decision to leave Aurora and Mulan still haunted Mary Margaret, but there had been no other reasonable choice. Mary Margaret had explained all that to him – and unlike Leah, he had actually listened.
"So is that it?" a new voice asked, and David turned to find Dr. Whale leaning against a nearby car, watching Leah and David carefully. His lips were curled into a smile, but there was no sign of mirth in his eyes.
"Is that what?" Stefan asked.
"Is that your motivation for all this? Revenge? Mary Margaret abandons your daughter and so you arrange to have her thrown in jail?" He laughed suddenly, a remarkably chilling sound. His gaze slid past the group to Charles and Midas, who still hovered at the edge, and he continued, "Is that all you are? Petty royals ruining lives to fight your petty battles?"
"They're not petty!"
"Aren't they?" Whale pushed himself off the building and walked forward. His words dripped with sarcasm as he said, "It seems to me that you're engaged in an epic battle that is creating chaos and turning people against each other – and for what?" He looked at Leah. "Because your daughter was left behind?" He glanced at David. "And yours, too?" He shrugged, and then gesturing around him, "What about the rest of us? Do you think you are the only ones who were separated from your loved ones? Do you think you are the only ones who have suffered? What gives you the right to declare your authority and start imprisoning people? What gives you the right to do anything?"
"I'm a queen," Leah answered, her voice calm even thought her face was flushed darkly and her body shook with pent-up rage, "and it is my responsibility…"
"Not here," Whale interrupted. "This isn't your land. This isn't any of our lands. This is the United States of America… and I'm pretty sure we don't have royalty."
"It's more complicated than that," David said softly.
"No, it's really not," Whale answered. "Whatever you want to call yourself is fine, but here, in this town, you're still just David Nolan. And the only one with any authority, the only one who should be able to call the shots, is Emma Swan. She, at least, was actually elected to her position."
"Emma isn't here," David ground out furiously.
"Obviously, because there is no way she would have stood for any of this," Whale replied. He considered David for a moment, then said in an off-hand manner, "Maybe we should have another election?"
David didn't answer.
Leroy downed the rest of his drink and stared morosely around the diner. Whale's words weighed heavily on him. He wanted to go home, wanted return to the life he'd had before all of this. He wasn't happy as the town drunk – and maybe he hadn't really been happy in the Enchanted Forest, not since his… name change…, but at least there he'd felt as though he belonged.
He didn't feel that way here.
But.
Whale thought differently, and he probably wasn't the only one. How many people actually preferred their lives here? How many people would want to stay?
Would any of his brothers want to stay?
Would Mary Margaret?
Would he still feel as though he belonged in the Enchanted Forest if he was the only one there?
The door to Granny's diner opened, and he swiveled on his seat, only vaguely interested in who would be entering.
It was Nova.
He froze, his fingers still wrapped around the glass.
She was dressed in her nun's uniform, her hood pulled up over her hair. The hood shadowed part of her face, making it difficult to discern her expression, but when the light hit her eyes he was able to see the telltale reflection of tears.
She was upset.
And he had no idea what to do.
He ran a hand over his face and wondered about taking the coward's way out and slipping into the kitchen before she noticed him. Surely Granny wouldn't kick him out of there…?
And then Nova turned and caught his gaze, and he felt stuck in place, unable to move. But what was he supposed to say to her?
Gee, sister, sorry I never bothered looking you up after Emma broke the curse.
Somehow, he didn't think that would be the best way to start the conversation. But what could he say? He was the one who had left her all those years ago, and he was the one who had never once bothered to look for her again. Even after Snow had joined forces with the Blue Fairy, even after they had all taken their places on Snow's war council, he had never once even asked how Nova was doing.
Was she happy?
Had she become a fairy godmother?
Did she miss him?
He doubted the Blue Fairy would have answered that last question anyway, but still… He mined fairy dust for a living. If he had tried to find her, he probably could have without trouble. But he hadn't, and…
And he regretted it.
Except that that was the entire reason he hadn't gone looking for her in the first place. He had made his choice, and neither of them could go back, but some part of him had still been terrified that if he'd seen her again, he would not have had the strength to walk away.
He'd considered it, though. So many times. He'd gone as far as stealing a diamond, but that had led him down an entirely different path, and…
"Le-Leroy," Nova said and all his conflicting and turbulent thoughts melted away as she took the seat next to him. She wiped at her eyes, distraught. "I never meant… I only tried to talk to people, to make them understand… to help you."
"Help me?" Leroy repeated, baffled, but Nova didn't even appear to notice that he had spoken.
"I went to speak to a few people, just a few. To tell them what you said about Belle and Snow and Leah. I didn't mean for any of this to happen, we were just talking. But I must have just said everything wrong, because then they were so angry and I didn't…" She stopped, emotion choking off her words, and closed her eyes for a moment. "Then the mob formed, and they went after Leah, and I just…"
"You made that happen?" Leroy interrupted, impressed. Had she actually managed to stir up enough sympathy for Mary Margaret to get people to take to the streets? Had she convinced people to take a stand against Leah?
Well... perhaps that wasn't that surprising. After all, most everyone trusted fairies - just like most everyone trusted nuns. They would certainly have listened to Nova.
"I didn't mean to," Nova murmured, opening her eyes and glancing at him. "I didn't want violence, I didn't want a big confrontation. I just wanted people to understand, to see that Snow wasn't a bad person, to remember Belle's father… all the things you wanted." She sighed, and lowered her gaze. "I never meant for this to happen," she said again. "But after we talked today…"
"Today?" Leroy interjected quickly. "What do you mean?"
Nova stared at him. "Today," she repeated. "I… we spoke. Today. Just… just a little while ago…" She trailed off in complete confusion as Leroy continued to give her a blank stare.
"That's not… we didn't," Leroy stammered. "I haven't seen you since… since before."
Before the curse broke.
"But you said… and I told people…," Nova protested, stammering over fragmented statements. "That wasn't you?" Leroy shook his head, bewildered, and her face grew even more pale, horror appearing in her eyes. "I started this," she whispered, "and it wasn't for you?"
Leroy frowned, now completely unsure of what was going on, but at least able to tell that Nova was upset. Casting about for some way of calming her down, he tried to downplay the mob. "So they argued a little – big deal."
Nova stared at him for a long moment, then said quietly, "It was more than arguing, Leroy. Didn't you hear?"
"Hear what?" Leroy asked in growing trepidation.
"Just a little while ago… someone burned down Stefan and Leah's house."
The room felt cold.
That alone would have been enough to convince Emma to turn back, but the darkness that seemed to seep out of the walls added to her unease. It felt strangely malevolent - or else she was simply forcing her own preconceived ideas on to the palace. It was hard to tell the difference anymore.
The room was underground, and she'd stumbled upon it mostly by accident. She'd walked by the door several times, but had ignored it. For some reason, it had seemed unimportant, not even worth looking at, until she'd accidentally bumped into it and it had given way beneath her touch.
As the door had swung open and hit lightly against the opposite wall, the feeling of unimportance had faded away, and Emma had stared at the staircase in surprise. Instead of being repelled, the open door had seemed to call her.
And now she shivering in the darkened room, barely able to see anything. A thin sliver of light cut through the dark from a tiny window near the very top of the room's wall. It illuminated thin cracks in the stone ceiling, and dust motes suspended in midair, but had all but faded away before reaching the depths of the room. Squinting, she could just barely make out the sight of shelves lining the wall, and something large and low - a table, a desk? - in front of her.
She walked forward, one hand held out in front of her in an effort to avoid smashing into anything, and still somehow managed to trip over a broken chair. She careened forward, and just barely managed to stop herself from falling to her hands and knees on the cold floor.
She took another cautious step forward, skirting around the edge of the table-or-desk. She reached out and lightly rested her fingers on the smooth wooden surface, and again, a shiver ran down her spine.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a glimmer of light.
She turned, and faced the wall opposite. Something was shinning in the darkness, reflecting the light from the window back into the room.
But - no. Emma glanced up at the window. With the shadows of the shelves falling over everything, there was no way the light could reach this object. Whatever light it was reflecting, it did not come from the window.
Or perhaps it wasn't reflecting light at all?
She bit her lip and felt the vague unease start to grow.
But the object on the shelf, whatever it was, was beckoning her. The entire room seemed to be calling her. She knew she should leave - turn around and walk away and not bother with this place that she somehow knew was dangerous - but she couldn't stop herself from walking further into the dark.
She stopped at the shelf, and tentatively reached out one hand until her fingers touched soft fabric.
It was a partially open bag, and the light was coming from within.
Her fingers found the strings, and she loosened them, pulling the mouth of the bag even wider and staring inside.
The fragments of a broken mirror stared back at her.
She fumbled her way back to the table-or-desk and dumped the contents of the bag onto the wooden surface. The fragments came in all sizes, many nothing more than slivers of glass that stuck to her skin. But several of the shards of mirror were large enough to show her reflection - and yet they didn't.
The source of the light she had seen was not a reflection from the mirror, but rather the mirror itself. Several of the larger pieces shimmered with this strange light, a beautiful swirl of white tendrils spreading out on the otherwise dark glass. Emma leaned forward, every logical part of her mind screaming at her that this magic was dangerous and she needed to leave it alone, and yet unable to ignore the fascination that was pulling her closer and closer to the glass.
She reached out slowly, tentatively, as though her fingers were moving of their own according, and touched the mirror.
The light rippled and shimmered and quite suddenly was gone, now replaced by the image of rows and rows of perfectly manicured hedges lining a strangely Technicolor path.
Emma gasped and yanked back her hand, and the image faded. As though a spell had been broken, the strange excitement that Emma had felt was gone, and her mind was suddenly clear. Logic and reason took control, and she stumbled away from the table-or-desk, away from the broken mirror. The feeling of danger that saturated the air spurned her forward, and she half-stumbled, half-ran for the staircase. Her feet slid over the ground as she hurried up the steps and out of the room.
It was only once she had reached the relative safety of the corridor on the main floor that she allowed herself a moment to breathe, and to wonder about what had just happened.