Chapter Twenty-Five: Further Into the Dark
It was calling to her.
Emma leaned against the balcony railing and stared out at the distant ocean, but no matter how hard she tried to blot out that pull, she could not ignore it. She was scanning the landscape for any sign of Lake Nostos, or even of Snow White's castle, but she could not concentrate. Any time she did not actively focus all of her thoughts on finding a way home, that treacherous tug would slip into her mind and pull her thoughts to the room.
She closed her eyes and let out a long breath, her fingers wrapped tightly around the railing - so tight that her knuckles turned white.
"Come on, Swan," she whispered, "just focus."
She needed a plan. She'd stayed at the palace for far too long already, and now she needed to figure out a way to get home. But without magic, how could she create a portal?
Magic.
She needed magic.
The room had magic.
"No," she hissed, slamming one hand against the railing and wincing as the rusted metal bit into her skin. She opened her eyes and sighed heavily. "No," she said again, her tone firm, "stop thinking about it."
But she could not escape the fact that she needed magic, and every time that idea entered her thoughts, her mind wandered back to the room.
But the room wasn't the only place in the palace that held magic.
She was sure she had seen a ripple in that ornate mirror in the large corridor that had probably served as some sort of Great Hall, sure she had felt magic in the mirrors in Regina's room. And there was no denying that something had happened to cause the mirror in Snow's childhood bedroom to explode.
What did that all mean?
Hook had thought they were being watched, and Mary Margaret had agreed with that assessment. Was she still being watched? Was it Cora - or something else? Someone else?
Either way, she really needed to get out of the palace, to get away from all the mirrors around her.
But she also needed a plan.
And she needed magic.
Shadows danced along the walls.
Emma raised the torch higher and looked around. The torch itself had been easy to find, and though setting it on fire had presented somewhat of a challenge, she'd had more success this time than she'd had on the beach. The flames flickered, giving off heat and light, and she had expected that to make the room less daunting.
It didn't.
She really didn't like the shadows.
It was a completely illogical response, but watching them move up and down the walls only served to heighten her apprehension. This place was dangerous, and she knew it, but she just couldn't bring herself to leave.
"I need magic," she said, rationalizing the decision to return to this room as best she could. "I need some kind of magic to get back to Henry. I'm doing this for Henry."
For Henry. For Henry.
She repeated the mantra silently, as though it could keep her grounded, keep her sane.
She set the torch into one of the heavy iron holders along the wall, and the shadows fell still. She dug her fingers into her palm for a moment, feeling a chill run up and down the length of her spine. Then she slowly turned away from the light and stepped further into the room.
The shelves that lined the walls were filled with strange objects and books. She ran her fingers over the titles of different works, reading the words and staring at the symbols without any comprehension. There was magic here - she could feel it, but she couldn't understand it.
She paused at one shelf and frowned at a small earthenware bowl that held the dried-out remains of a some crushed herb. It had no scent and looked only like dried leaves, but it was here for a reason, and she half expected it to burst into flame or some other strange thing.
Next to the earthenware bowl was a small vial. Emma picked it up and rolled it between her fingers. The glass was cool to the touch, and the cork was sealed tightly. In the dim light of the room, she could see the dull, black dust collected at the bottom of the glass.
It didn't look particularly dangerous, but she knew appearances could be deceiving.
She slid the vial of dust into the pocket of her leather jacket. She had no idea what it was, but then, she had no idea what anything in this room was, and this dust at least wasn't showing her images of weird, Technicolor worlds.
The broken mirror was still lying on the table. It had not been glowing when she entered the room, but when she glanced at it briefly, a few of the larger pieces were illuminated with that same beautiful white light. It tugged at her. She wanted to pick up the pieces, to hold them, to stare at whatever images arose. She wanted to know what they were, wanted to understand.
She wanted to force away the thought, but now that she had looked at the mirror, she could not focus on anything else.
Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the table. Two of the large pieces shared the same jagged edge, as though they were pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Without thinking, she reached out and pushed the two together, aligning the edges.
The crack between the pieces glowed brightly, and when she dropped her hands to her side in surprise, the pieces had melded into one.
"What the hell...?"
The tips of her fingers tingled.
She looked away from the mirror and down at her hand. Her skin was pale and unblemished, with nothing to suggest that she had either used or interacted with magic, and yet she could feel the strange sensation dancing just at the tips of her fingers.
She inhaled slowly.
She wanted to reach for the mirror again, but the strange draw she felt was not powerful enough to overcome her trepidation. Common sense slowly kicked in, and she took a faltering steps backwards, away from the table.
This was magic, and she knew that she desperately needed it – but she also knew that she could not ever let her guard down around it. It would serve its purpose, get her home, but that was it. She could not trust it, could not let it continue to pull her like this.
She gritted her teeth and forced herself to turn away from the table and continue her perusal of the room, shifting her attention to the collection of books.
"Will I be able to see her?" Henry asked excitedly.
"You will," David said, resting his hand on Henry's shoulder as he exchanged an uneasy glance with Regina.
Regina had been against the idea of bringing Henry here. After the most recent disturbance that had resulted in Stefan and Leah's house turning into a pile of cinder and ash, he completely understood her concerns. Henry was safest inside the protective barrier around her house, and now they had to worry about more than just Cora. David had a sinking feeling that Stefan and Leah had just become a very real threat.
Would they go after Henry in revenge? Would their supporters do so? He didn't want to believe that any of the royals would go after an innocent child – particularly not one responsible for helping to break the curse and return all of their memories – but there was far too much unrest in the town for him to feel comfortable taking any chances.
Unfortunately, when he and Regina had informed Henry that they had been able to see Emma, the boy had insisted on being present at their next attempt, and David didn't have the heart to refuse. Emma was his mother, after all, and Henry was clearly terrified that he had already lost her.
Regina had only protested weakly, and her reluctance had been about bringing Henry into Mary Margaret's relatively unsafe apartment, and not a unwillingness to allow him to see Emma. David wasn't sure what that meant, wasn't sure if Regina was slowly starting to accept that Henry was Emma's son, too, but he hoped that it was a good sign.
He still didn't trust her, though.
He looked at Sidney and the Mother Superior. They were sitting at the table, their fingers resting on the edge of the mirror, identical looks of concentration on their faces. It was their first attempt to reach Emma without Regina's assistance, and there was no guarantee that it would work.
And what would they do if it didn't? With Gold's flat refusal to help, they had no idea how to remove the curse from Regina, and if they couldn't do this without her…
David sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.
Regina was now staring at the door, clearly lost in thought. David dropped his hand from Henry's shoulder and crossed to her side.
"My mother is behind this," Regina said in a quiet tone of forced calm. "The attack on Stefan and Leah… she did this."
"You think she actually burned down their house?" David asked, surprised. He hadn't considered that.
Regina shrugged. "Perhaps. It would not have taken much effort on her part if she did it with magic." She turned her gaze from the door and met David's stare. "But perhaps it was some unhappy resident who actually did it. Or an entire mob. Even if she didn't actually start the fire, she most certainly goaded them into it." She paused, then, "There are rumors that Stefan and Leah were inside when it happened."
David's eyebrows rose towards his hairline. "I didn't know that," he said. Regina seemed distracted by the notion, so he asked, "Have you spoken to either of them?"
"No," she answered with a soft, mocking laugh. "I doubt they would be happy to see me." She frowned at the door again, then sighed. "If they were inside when it happened - and these are just rumors, so it might not be true - they at least made it out alive. We would have heard if they were dead."
The fact that the town was in so much unrest and confusion in the town that they didn't even know for certain if there had been people inside a house when it had burnt to the ground was dismaying. The fact that they probably would have heard if Stefan and Leah had been killed was of little comfort.
Regina glanced at the three people gathered around the table. "They're struggling with this," she said briskly, changing the topic.
David couldn't argue with that - Regina's magic had made everything go more smoothly - and so he nodded, then said with a sigh, "I'm sorry Gold wasn't much help."
Regina pursed her lips into a thin line. "It was foolish to believe that he would be," she replied dismissively. She looked at Henry. "I don't like this. I don't like him being here."
"I don't, either, but we agreed…"
"We did not agree on anything," Regina snapped, her tone angry even as she lowered her voice even further to avoid capturing Henry's attention. "You decided, and demanded that we…"
"Henry has a right to see Emma, to see for himself that she is alive," David practically growled. He'd thought they'd already covered this issue.
Regina scowled, but said, "I'm not arguing with that. But the danger..."
"I know," David cut in. "I know. I'm worried, too. But we can't keep him trapped inside forever, even if it keeps him safe. Besides," he offered a wan smile, "you and I are here to protect him. As in Mother Superior."
Regina shook her head, unconvinced. Then she said, "We haven't told him that the town is on the brink of complete anarchy, nor have we told him that the infighting between you insufferable fools has gotten so contentious that the dwarves have been forced to set up a watch at the sheriff's station in case Stefan and Leah's supporters try to get revenge by going after Miss Blanchard and Miss Lucas." She folded her arms over her chest. "It will be a lot harder to keep all that from him if we allow him to wander around the town."
"Why do you care if he knows?"
"He's a child," Regina practically spat. "Why burden him with more worries?"
"He's going to notice sooner or later," David countered. "You can't keep the state of the town from him forever." He frowned, puzzling over the sudden look of concern that came into Regina's eyes, and added, "In fact, I don't think you should."
"He already knows Miss Blanchard and Miss Lucas are in jail, and that you are arguing with Leah and Stefan," Regina replied. "What more does he need to know?"
And though she tried to make the question sound careless and off-handed, David heard the definite edge in her voice.
"Tell me why you don't want him to know," David demanded tersely. "What are you hiding? And why are you hiding it from him?"
A sardonic smile curved Regina's lips as she replied, "And of course you would assume my motives are dishonest. But I assure you, David, I am just trying to protect my son."
"From what?" David asked sharply. Regina didn't answer, and while that might have only served to enrage him in the past, her defiant silence didn't bother him quite so much anymore. Because while he might not trust her yet, he had learned at least one thing about her in the past few weeks.
She really did love Henry, and if she said she was trying to protect him from something, then she was most likely actually trying to protect him.
"Regina, just tell me," he said tiredly. "If you think Henry is in danger, I need to know."
"Of course he's in danger. My mother is here."
"It's more than that," David countered. "I can tell that there is something else, something more." When Regina remained silent, he crossed his arms over his chest and said coolly, "Fine. If you won't give me a convincing reason to keep the state of the town from Henry, then I don't see any reason why I shouldn't tell him."
Trepidation flared in Regina's eyes.
"We're on the same side," he said softly, "at least when it comes to Henry. I don't want to see him get hurt any more than you do. I thought you knew that by now."
He continued to stare at her, eyebrows raised, and she deflated slightly. Finally, in a low voice, she said, "Dr. Hopper believes that Henry blames himself for everything that happened after my mother came through the portal."
"What?"
Regina wrapped her arms around herself and continued reluctantly, "Because he asked me to have faith in him – and I did. The curse would have… stopped… my mother," and David pretended not to notice the way she carefully avoided the word killed, "but I removed it, and my mother came to Storybrooke, and now Miss Blanchard and Miss Lucas are in prison and all you idiotic royals have turned on each other."
David ignored the insult and instead absorbed her answer in silence before saying, "That is why you didn't tell Henry about the curse you are carrying."
When Henry had asked why only Sidney and the Mother Superior would be attempting to work the mirror without Regina's help, she'd given a half-truth answer that the use of powerful magic was taking its toll on her, and she needed to save her energy for when they had an actual plan. Henry had accepted that without question, and David hadn't thought much about it at the time, but now…
Henry had asked Regina to absorb a curse to save Mary Margaret and Emma, and she had… and it could very well end up killing her. Henry had had no way of knowing the dangers of what he had requested at the time, and it wasn't his fault that this had happened, but if he knew the truth he would undoubtedly blame himself.
And Regina desperately did not want that to happen.
David opened his mouth to reply, but then Henry shouted, "She's there! I see her!" and Regina pushed past him and walked back to the table.
David joined them, and it took only a brief look at Sidney and the Mother Superior to see that they were truly struggling without access to Regina's magic. They could barely form a connection – and if they couldn't do this well, how would they ever be able to form a portal?
"No…" Regina whispered suddenly, sounding horrified.
"What? What is it?" Henry demanded, turning towards her immediately. "Mom, what's wrong?"
David looked at the mirror. The image of Emma was slightly blurry, but he could see well enough to tell that she was leaning over a table in a darkened room, one hand reaching for what appeared to be broken shards of a mirror.
"What is it?" David asked urgently. "That… that mirror? What is it?"
Regina shook her head wordlessly and didn't answer, and the five of them continued to watch as Emma slowly pushed two broken shards of mirror together, and…
"What the…?" David started. "Those pieces… they just… how did they…?"
"Did… did she… did Emma just do magic?" Henry asked uncertainly.
Sidney slumped over slightly, breaking the connection, and Emma's image faded. He took a slow, shuddering breath, sweat lining his brow. "I can't…" He trailed off, and gave Regina a brief, almost apologetic, look. Then he pushed his chair back and stood up, stumbling away from the table.
"I don't understand," Henry continued, looking up at David and Regina and ignoring the clearly exhausted Sidney. "How did she do magic?"
"And what was Emma looking at?" David added, addressing the question to Regina.
Regina shook her head, apparently still in shock, and didn't answer.
"How did Emma do magic?" Henry asked again, his voice louder, his tone more insistent.
David hesitated, letting his gaze travel over everyone in the room. He didn't trust Sidney, and he wasn't entirely sure how much he trusted Regina, and so revealing what Mary Margaret had told him seemed like a dangerous idea. But maybe it was important that they all knew the truth? Maybe it would help?
"She has magic in her," he said slowly. "Mary Margaret told me that… that Cora attempted to take her heart."
"What?" Henry practically shouted.
"It's alright, Henry," David reassured him quickly, giving what he hoped was a heartening smile. "Cora wasn't able to do it. She couldn't take Emma's heart." He looked at Regina, trying to gauge her reaction to the news as he pressed on, "But Emma clearly has some sort of magic."
Regina met his gaze for a brief second and then looked away, and that was all it took for the truth to dawn on David.
"But you knew that," he murmured, surprised. The surprise quickly gave way to anger. "You knew that Emma had magic. How? And for how long?"
Regina lifted her chin defiantly, but then caught sight of Henry's half-accusatory gaze, and sighed. Again, she deflated. "I didn't know – but I suspected," she said. "With the wraith and the hat… I couldn't make it work, I couldn't open the portal. Then Miss Swan touched my arm and I felt…she had magic. And it was her magic that triggered mine." She gave the handheld mirror sitting on the table a contemplative look, and added, "I think she knew we were watching her through the mirror. I saw her react to – to Sidney's magic. She has it, she can sense it, and apparently she can use it."
Out of the corner of his eye, David saw the Mother Superior nod thoughtfully at that bit of information.
"But… what was she doing?" Henry asked, gesturing to the mirror. He looked unsure, even a little fearful, and David had a feeling that he was not happy about Emma's sudden new abilities. Or, at the very least, he didn't trust them.
Regina shook her head slowly, then said, "She couldn't have known what the mirror was. She must not have known what she was doing." She sank into the seat Sidney had vacated. "I don't know why she would… Using magic like that, without understanding the consequences… she can't possibly be that stupid." She rubbed at her eyes, and added wearily, "She shouldn't even be in that room."
"Why not?" Henry asked, his voice high-pitched with fear. "Is she in danger?"
Regina blinked, as though suddenly remembering that Henry was sitting next to her, and gave him a strained smile. "Of course not, dear."
"You're lying," Henry stated flatly.
"The room has magic in it – a lot of magic," Regina said, choosing her words carefully. "My entire palace does. It practically seeps out of the walls. But I used that room as a place to store my more… dangerous… magical artifacts, so the magic is much stronger there." She placed her hand lightly on Henry's arm and said reassuringly, "Miss Swan is not in any real danger there, Henry. But the magic is strong, and she doesn't know how to control it yet. It is never a good idea to play with things you don't understand."
"Oh, is that why you cast a curse you didn't fully understand?" Sidney sniped from his spot leaning against the wall of the apartment.
Regina slanted an icy look in his direction.
Sidney met her gaze, unimpressed, and said more to David than to Regina, "Nobody ever fully understands magic, and nobody ever fully controls it. Miss Swan will not be an exception to that. Magic, by its very nature, is dangerous."
David frowned. There was obviously more that Sidney and Regina were not saying, more that Regina did not want said in front of Henry. Emma's presence in that room concerned them both, and that did not bode well for her.
"What is that mirror?" David asked. "The one Emma was… looking at. What is it?"
Regina pursed her lips, and said with a bone-deep exhaustion, "It was a portal. I… it was… Rumplestilskin gave it to me a long time ago."
"A portal? Can Emma use it to get home?" Henry asked eagerly.
David raised an eyebrow at Regina, wanting to know the answer to that question. If there was a portal in her castle, a way for Emma to get home, he couldn't imagine that she wouldn't tell them… unless she wasn't actually trying to help…
"I thought it was broken," Regina mused quietly, her gaze unfocused, "it certainly didn't work after…" She trailed off, and shook her head slowly. "But apparently Miss Swan can… can imbue artifacts with magic."
"So she could make the portal work?" David asked sharply.
"Perhaps," Regina replied grimly, "but that portal only leads one place, and it would certainly not improve the situation if Miss Swan were to end up in Wonderland."
Sunlight poured in through the open window. A gentle breeze rustled the black curtains and brought the scent of saltwater and pine wafting through the room. The air was cool and crisp, though warmed slightly by the sun.
Emma stared at the three objects on the table in front of her. They had unnerved her in the hidden basement, but here in the open room of the second floor, she felt safer. Whatever strange power they'd held over her before was gone now, and she could study them with a more critical gaze.
The vial of black dust looked innocuous enough, though she didn't dare open it. Likewise, the large shard of mirror lay innocently next to the vial, reflecting the room around it instead of glowing with an unnatural light. She wasn't sure why she had grabbed the mirror fragment on her way back to the stairs, just like she wasn't sure why she had pocketed the vial of dust. Neither appeared dangerous – both probably were.
It was the book that interested her the most, though. At first glance, she had thought it was written in English. A closer inspection had revealed that, while the letters were certainly familiar to her, the language was not.
But she had learned from Mary Margaret that sometimes it didn't matter what a book said – it mattered only what type of ink was used to write it.
She flipped through the pages, the old parchment brittle underneath her fingers. She didn't have a lock to open, and so wasn't sure what good the ink would do for her, if it really was magic squid ink. But perhaps it could help her open a portal. Perhaps it could create some link back to her world, to Storybrooke.
To Henry.
As thoughts of her son filled her, the pages fluttered underneath her fingertips, and before she was aware of what was happening, the ink had risen from the parchment in a purple cloud. She inhaled sharply in surprise, and the cloud slipped into her mouth between her parted lips.
She felt something swell in her, felt a power humming through her veins, threatening to burst out of her skin. The world danced in front of her eyes, vibrating strangely, and then her vision darkened around the edges.
The black dust in the vial responded immediately, floating into the air in a tiny, trapped whirlwind. The mirror burst into white light that spilled outwards, illuminating the table and Emma's surprised expression. The air grew hot, heavy, and pressed down on her incessantly.
Emma shoved the table away and surged to her feet, the chair toppling over at her sudden movements. She spun around to catch it, but it clattered to the floor. And then, as she reached out her hand to pick it back up, the chair responded to her will and righted itself of its own accord.
She stared at her hand in awe. The tips of her fingers were glowing, or maybe she just thought they were. Her vision didn't seem to be working quite right – everything was glowing. She felt the same pull in her chest that she had felt standing outside the door to that hidden room. It was drawing her towards the book, towards the mirror, towards the vial of dust, towards the room two floors below. It was pulling her apart, dragging her in different directions.
And yet she felt strong, powerful. She felt, quite suddenly, like there was nothing in the world – in any world – that could stop her. She knew with absolute certainty that she would find her way back to Storybrooke, to Mary Margaret and David, to Henry.
A satisfied smile ever so slightly curled the corners of her lips. Humming echoed in her ears as she turned her gaze out towards the window overlooking the sloping forest and the shimmering ocean. For a moment, it was as though she could see her home floating over the water, surrounded by mist and vapor. She wanted so desperately for it to be there, in front of her, and it was. Just beyond her reach.
But she knew she could get there.
And as abruptly as it had come, the feeling was gone. The ethereal glow that infused the world around her disappeared as her vision returned to normal. The power in her veins, the swell of energy in her chest, faded into nothing. She gasped and staggered forward, clutching at the edge of the table to keep herself upright. She was tired – so tired.
Her gaze landed on the table's surface. The mirror had stopped glowing; the dust was just dust once more.
And she was a lost young woman standing alone in her enemy's palace, trapped in a world she knew nothing about.
She closed her eyes, trying desperately to recapture the feeling she'd had before – the hope, the belief. But it was gone, too, and she couldn't will it back into existence.
"What… what was that?" she whispered to herself.
But the answer was obvious. That was magic.
And Emma wanted more.