Chapter Twenty-Nine: Come Undone
Emma barely noticed the ogre until it was looming directly above her.
It came charging through the trees, alerted to the sound of her feet falling heavily on the ground. She'd been running for hours, unaware of the distance she had covered or the noise she had been making. The mental image of Henry's terrified face kept screaming at her, begging her to come home, and she could think of nothing else.
The ogre snarled at her, waving it's large, ungainly arms and knocking several tree branches to the ground. It's movements seemed slow and clumsy, and Emma easily jumped backwards, out of danger. She lifted a hand, attempting to conjure up magic to ward off the creature.
Nothing happened.
"Oh, come on!" she groaned, staring down at her fingers. She'd used magic to fight an ogre before, though it had not been a conscious choice at the time. Why couldn't she make it work for her this time? What was the use of absorbing an entire book of magic if she wasn't able to conjure it when needed?
The ogre snarled again and swiped at her head.
She ducked easily, dropping her bag and spinning away from it. The ogre couldn't catch her, though it tried again and again. She darted side-to-side repeatedly, and it was left clawing at air, almost as though it was moving in slow motion.
Finally, perhaps realizing that Emma was too fast for it, the ogre took a different approach. Straightening to its full height, it swung both arms out in a large circle, knocking down every tree around it like they were nothing more than twigs.
Emma barely made it out of the way in time. She threw herself backwards, landing hard on her side. Gasping for air, she rolled over and tumbled down a sloping incline to a clearing in the middle of the forest. Her arm twisted painfully underneath her, and she was certain she would be covered in bruises soon, but she pushed away the pain and climbed unsteadily to her hands and knees.
The ogre howled and stormed out of the trees after her.
In her mind, Emma could still see Henry crying out to her.
She lifted one hand weakly, and felt a sudden thrum of power starting in her chest. She surged to her feet as the power grew, giving her strength and feeding something formidable inside of her. It burned hot and bright, scorching her insides and exploding out of her palm in a furious burst of energy.
The ogre shrieked, and collapsed. It fell with an earth-shaking thud, and Emma nearly lost her balance as the ground beneath her feet trembled.
And then everything was still and quiet.
She closed her eyes for a moment, bending over to rest her hands on her thighs as she fought to regain control of her uneven, shallow breaths. She could still feel the hum of energy inside of her, making her strong. Powerful.
She straightened and opened her eyes. She looked down at the ogre for a moment, but it was either unconscious or dead, and either way, it was not a danger to her.
She let out a long breath, then started retracing her steps in search of the bag she had dropped.
Regina was surprised that she and David had come up with this plan. It seemed like the sort of thing that Mary Margaret in her naïve optimism would dream up, but neither Regina nor David had ever been the type of person to favor diplomacy over aggression. Particularly now, when someone they both cared about was dead.
And yet, somehow, both of them had decided on this.
She glanced around the inside of town hall. She could hear the mob outside, the rise and fall of their indistinct voices muted by the thick walls of the building.
"Regina." Leah appeared at the doorway to one of the offices, her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she took in the other woman's presence. But she did not back away in fright, did not call out for Stefan to help her. Instead, she merely stared at Regina calmly, and asked, "How did you get in?"
Regina raised an eyebrow. "How do you think?" she retorted sardonically. An angry mob might be successful at keeping Leah and Stefan trapped inside, but it wasn't going to be able to keep anyone with magic from getting in.
Or out.
Leah pursed her lips. "Have you come to gloat?" she asked, her tone brittle, her stare filled with disgust. "The town turning on itself must make you happy."
"Actually, it rather does, dear," Regina replied smoothly, anger momentarily getting the better of her. "You fools deserve whatever you get."
There was a brief silence, then Leah murmured almost tiredly, "Is that so?"
Instead of responding, Regina took the opportunity to study Leah. It was then that she noticed the dark circles under the other queen's eyes and the too-paleness of her already fair skin. Her eyes were hard and cold – and haunted. Being trapped by fire had taken its toll on her.
Maleficent would be happy.
Leah turned away in a move that was blatantly dismissive. "Whatever you're selling, Regina, Stefan and I are not interested."
"I'm offering you a way out of here."
Leah paused and looked back. "Are you?" she asked softly, disbelievingly. "So I should join up with evil?"
"Actually, I was thinking you should join up with idiocy," Regina answered dryly. "Form an alliance with David."
Leah's eyes narrowed immediately. "You expect me to believe that I should trust both you and James? How much of a fool do you take me for?"
"I'm not the one trapped inside town hall," Regina snapped back.
Leah huffed. "And why would James want to form an alliance with me? He and I don't see eye-to-eye on much. I'm surprised he's not rejoining at the fact that I am currently safely out of his way."
"Katherine – Abigail – is dead," Regina said flatly. "My mother killed her."
Several emotions – confusion, surprise, distrust, anger – flickered through Leah's eyes, and then drawled, "Really? Your mother? How many times are you going to use that excuse to hide your own actions, Regina? It's getting tired."
"I did not kill her," Regina practically hissed in response. "Why would I?" Leah's implied accusation did not come as a surprise, and yet it hurt Regina more than she'd care to admit. There were very few people in this town who meant anything to her, but Katherine had been different. The friendship might have started as part of a plot to keep true love apart, but Regina had had precious few friends in her life, and Katherine had tried, and…
Of course, the fact that she had made a deal with Gold that was supposed to result in Katherine's death did not escape her. She knew it was a bit hypocritical to be arguing now that she would not want to hurt Katherine when it was only Gold's manipulations that had kept the blonde alive before.
But things had changed.
Regina had changed.
And she genuinely grieved at Katherine's death.
Not that Leah would believe that.
The redhead smiled blithely. "Oh, I'm sure you had your reasons, Regina," she said. "Is it part of a plan to destroy all of your enemies? Or perhaps revenge for some perceived slight?"
"Katherine never did anything to me!"
Leah met Regina's gaze steadily and asked, "Did I?"
"You sided with Snow," Regina answered.
Leah's lips quirked upwards slightly at the reply. "No," she said softly, pointedly, her tone almost patronizing, "I didn't."
Regina's stepped forward threateningly. "I asked for your help during the war with Snow and her prince, and you refused," she hissed. "And those two idiots…"
"Those two idiots," Leah interjected smoothly, "asked for my help as well. And I refused them, too. I didn't side with either of you, because it actually isn't my job to intervene in your…" she waved her hand carelessly, "family feud."
"Neutrality is not always an honorable position," Regina countered furiously. "Not in war. Sometimes you actually do have to pick a side."
"Why?" Leah replied, eyebrow raised. "Why is it my job to fight your battles? Why should I ask my people to risk themselves for someone else's kingdom?" She stepped forward, refusing to back down from Regina's anger, refusing to be intimidated by the loathing that was clear on Regina's face. "That war of yours was quite bloody, wasn't it? And we were all still recovering from the latest round of battles against the ogres. What kind of queen would it make me if I had insisted that my subjects die for someone else's petty feud?" She paused, eyes filled with malice, then added, "Though I suppose caring about one's subjects was never really something you understood, was it?"
Regina smirked in reply, all thoughts of diplomacy gone. "Your people have turned into a ruthless mob, screaming for blood," she said, gesturing towards the surrounding walls and the people they both knew were gathered beyond them. "Chaos has taken over the town, and it has only grown since you and Stefan decided you should be the ones in control. It's rather poor evidence of your ability to be a good queen now, dear."
"And do you think you are a good queen? Or even a good person?" Leah questioned derisively. "You cursed all of us. Even commoners, even peasants, even children. People you couldn't possibly hold responsible for your own bad decisions. You ripped us away from everything we knew, erased everything we were… and now you're upset that people don't trust you?" She laughed, and shook her head in bitter amusement. "And before the curse, Regina – tell me, how many did you kill? How many villages did you slaughter? How many of your own people did you put to death?" The redhead spun around and started away with one last parting shot, "You can play the misunderstood victim all you want, dear, but let's not white-wash the past. We both know better."
"It didn't work?" David asked needlessly as Regina appeared before him in a swirl of purple smoke. She was alone, and her expression was thunderous, and that was plenty of evidence that the first stage of their plan had failed.
David wasn't really surprised. It had been foolish to believe that Regina of all people would be able to gain Stefan and Leah's trust, though he had been optimistic that the offer of freedom might have been convincing.
But if Leah and Stefan did not want to believe, David couldn't force them.
He shook his head slowly, disappointed. "Mary Margaret really believed that Leah could be reasoned with – that she cared more about the wellbeing of her people than about power."
Regina rolled her eyes. "Miss Blanchard might insist on seeing the best in everyone, David," she commented, "but that doesn't mean she's right." Before David could reply, she slanted a quick look in his direction, then gestured across the street to where the mob was camped outside the town hall. "Do you really think you can reason with them?"
David nodded. "The first step of our plan might not have worked, but if I can convince everyone to let Stefan and Leah go, maybe that will show them that we are serious about wanting an alliance."
"Are we?" David gave Regina a sharp look, but she waved aside his silent rebuke. "Oh, don't look at me like that," she snapped irritably. "It is a valid question. Why are we serious about an alliance?"
"We talked about this," David answered. "We agreed on it. We can't give up just because it is hard."
"Try impossible," Regina muttered, but she acquiesced with a shrug.
David glanced away from her, once more eyeing the mob. Reasoning with people was Mary Margaret - Snow's - talent, but he'd done this once before, standing on a truck at the town line, pleading with a terrified crowd not to forget who they were. He could do it again.
He squared his shoulders and started across the street. He was dimly aware of Regina watching him with a look of skepticism on her features, and for once couldn't blame her for her lack of faith. But though he might agree with her cynicism, might have his own doubts about this plan, that didn't mean he wasn't going to try to prove them both wrong.
Dr. Whale stopped him just as he reached the opposite side of the street.
"Let me guess," Whale said with a cynical smile, "you're going to try to stop all of them from protesting against Stefan and Leah?"
"I hardly think trapping someone in a building with pitchforks is protesting," David retorted, a definite bite in his words. He didn't like Whale - and he knew part of it was that the man had slept with Mary Margaret while they were cursed.
But it was more than that. He didn't trust Whale, and though he couldn't put into words why he felt this way, he knew that Whale was going to be trouble for them.
"And it is doing Storybrooke any good," David added.
"And you get to decide what is best for Storybrooke?" Whale countered.
David didn't have an immediate answer to that. It really wasn't clear who was in charge or now, but that was part of the problem. The confusion was adding to the already mounting chaos, and unless Storybrooke could be brought back under control, people were going to continue getting hurt.
David glanced at the mob. "If I can get them to listen to me..." he began.
"How about you try listening to yourself?" Whale interjected. He folded his arms over his chest. "You stood in front of all of us and said that we were a combination of our real selves and our cursed selves. We were both. You told us that if we stayed here, every choice was open to us. But you didn't mean that, did you? Because my cursed self - our cursed selves - did not follow you. We didn't owe you loyalty or fealty. We didn't own you anything, and you didn't get to make decisions for us. So when you said that we were both, you meant that we were only both so long as it suited you. You meant that every choice was open to us as long as it was a choice you agreed to. Isn't that right?"
"No," David protested, but Whale ignore that answer.
"You are not my king. And of that, I am glad. I owe you nothing – I never owed you anything – and you certainly haven't done anything to earn my trust or my loyalty now."
"I am trying to keep order with the other royals," David argued, frustrated.
Whale laughed coldly. "Is that what you were doing when you put yourself in an enchanted sleep?"
"I had to find my wife and daughter," David said. He glanced over his shoulder and realized that he now had the attention of several members of the crowd outside of town hall. His argument with Whale seemed to interest them, and that made him wary.
Across the street, Regina was still watching him, still wearing the same look of skepticism on her features.
"But I never stopped thinking about this town," David continued softly, now directing his words towards the crowd. "I never stopped worrying about it. You have to trust that – trust me. It's just that my family needed me, too."
"So you can ignore us all when it suits you and then demand our allegiance when you need it?" Whale scoffed. He studied David's expression for a moment, and then said with a mixture of disbelief and antipathy, "And you can't even see it, can you? You are so convinced that you are right, that you are just, that you are good… you can't see anyone else's point of view." He glanced over at the town hall. "You want Stefan and Leah, Charming? Fine. Go ahead and fight your petty disputes. But don't expect the rest of us to bow to whoever wins."
And he turned his back on David and stalked away.
As Cora had assumed he would, Hook was once more standing in her home, glowering at her. His anger would make him unpredictable, and the longer his vengeance was thwarted, the more reckless his actions would become. She knew she couldn't put him off forever, but at the moment, his temper was the least of her concerns.
Regina had partnered with Prince Charming in an attempt to broker peace between the warring factions. Her daughter - the woman who had turned so wonderfully power-mad to the point of irrationality - was trying to obtain peace.
That would not do.
Cora turned her back on the seething pirate captain and stared blankly through the window at her side, frowning in contemplation. Her every attempt at getting revenge on Eva had been pushed aside. And now that she was so close, her own daughter was the main person standing in her path.
She pursed her lips. She was running out of time.
"Cora!"
She glanced at Hook, annoyed at the interruption. "I told you that you would get your revenge, and you will," she snapped. "But can't you see that I have other more pressing concerns? Your..." she waved her hand carelessly, dismissing his protests, "desires will have to wait."
"I've already waited," Hook growled impatiently. "That crocodile took everything from me, and he will pay."
Cora stared at him for a long moment, lost her own memories. Rumple was skilled at taking away everything a person cared about – and that brand of revenge was a lesson she had learned from him. But she could not rush into this, or her plans would fall to pieces, and she would not be his victim again.
So she sighed and said, "He took quite a bit from me, too. I want revenge, and I will have it. But we must proceed with caution. He is not to be underestimated."
Hook rolled his eyes. "Proceed with caution?" he demanded. "You made a truce with him. That's quite a bit of caution." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Unless you plan on breaking it?"
Cora shook her head. "The deal will be broken," she promised, "but not by me."
Turning her back on Hook once more, she walked over to the table and stared down at a handheld mirror that currently reflected an image of Emma picking her way through the forest.
Hook came to stand next to her. "Swan," he murmured in surprise.
"I spent years trapped in Wonderland, never able to return home," Cora mused, feeling a slight flare of fury at the memory of what Regina had done to her – what Rumple had convinced Regina to do. "But I did learn the magic of mirrors." A cold smile twisted her lips as she slanted an acrid look at Hook. "It's how I watched my daughter, how I kept tabs on her from across realms." She looked back at the mirror. "And now it is how I watch Emma Swan."
Hook frowned, and said nothing.
"She'll be back soon," Cora continued. At Hook's look of incredulity, Cora continued, "She was always going to make it back. I knew that from the moment I failed to rip out her heart. She had magic in her. Strong magic. Stronger than even my own. Unfortunately for her, she doesn't know how to use it."
"Then how will she make it back?" Hook questioned skeptically, although his tone carried some other emotion that Cora couldn't quite identify.
Cora smiled. "She doesn't have to know how to use the magic. She just has to be desperate enough."
For so long, all her plans had revolved around Snow. With Eva dead, sinking her claws into the young, motherless child had been all too easy. And yet Snow had been made of stronger stuff than Cora had realized, and nothing had gone quite the way she had planned.
Of course, Regina pushing her through the mirror might have had something to do with that.
And now Snow - or Mary Margaret as she apparently preferred to be called - was locked away in an unbreakable jail cell, separated once more from her family. And still nothing was working out.
If the loss of her mother, Regina's constant persecution, twenty-eight years of a curse, and being locked away by people she had once trusted was not enough to darken Snow's too-white heart...
"You want Swan to come back," Hook said, interrupting her thoughts.
Cora glanced up at him, and smiled chillingly. "I've learned how to adapt, my dear captain. Sometimes it is the only way to survive."
Emma fell to her knees by the edge of a small stream.
The running water glistened brilliantly, reflecting bright sunlight as it ran over moss-covered rocks. The surrounding trees were greener than she would have thought possible, the air sweeter than she remembered it being before.
She closed her eyes and listened to the hammering of blood pounding in her veins. How long had she run? How quickly had she run? How long had it been since the ogre attack? She had lost track of time, lost track of everything but the feel of the ground under her feet and the sound of Henry's panicked screams echoing in her mind.
She opened her eyes and pulled the shard of mirror loose from her bag.
She stared at it - at her own reflection - and frowned. When had her skin gotten so pale, so ashen? Where had those dark shadows under her eyes come from? Why did the angles of her face look so pronounced? Had she changed, or did she simply notice more now? Everything seemed so much clearer to her, as though her senses had been inexplicably heightened.
The mirror started to glow.
Her first instinct was to throw the mirror aside, but she forced herself to ignore that reaction, and instead tightened her fingers around the shard. The jagged edges bit into the palm of her hand, drawing blood, but she barely noticed it.
"Henry," she whispered fervently, her voice thick with raw emotion, "show me Henry."
But the image that appeared was not Henry. It was Mary Margaret, trapped in a jail cell in the sheriff's station. At first she thought it was a memory of the time Mary Margaret had been framed for Katherine's murder, but then she caught sight of Ruby in the adjoining cell and frowned.
Was this... could this be happening now? Had Mary Margaret returned to Storybrooke only to end up in jail? But how? Why? And did this mean David had been rescued from his sleeping curse, or was he still trapped in eternal slumber?
What was going on in Storybrooke?
She dropped the mirror onto the bag, and only then became aware of the stinging sensation in her hand. She stared numbly at the thin cut that had formed, and at the small drops of bright red blood that gathered at the edges.
A sound behind her caught her attention.
Spinning, she found herself face-to-face with a...
Thing.
Creature.
Animal?
It growled at her, opening large jaws to display sharp white teeth. A shaggy mane surrounded it's almost cat-like head, and then blended into shorter hair around the rest of its body. It had hooves, and its torso would have resembled a giant goat except for the bulging muscles.
A goat on steroids?
Emma took a few steps backwards.
The creature lunged, and raising its tail high above its head, and Emma saw the flash of snake skin and heard the sound of a rattle.
Lion, goat, snake.
As she darted to the side, away from the gaping jaws, the word chimera came to mind. She had only ever paid partial attention when studying mythology in school, and although she was fairly certain that someone - Mulan, Aurora? - had talked about a chimera at some point, she couldn't recall what they had said.
Hadn't she eaten chimera? Was that when it had been mentioned?
The creature twisted mid-lunge and came after her again, but she moved once more, easily avoiding its flailing front legs. The hooves smashed down where she had stood, shattering the stones on which they landed.
"Get back!" she shouted, flinging out her hand. White light burst from her finger tips and struck the chimera directly in the chest, killing it instantly.
Emma froze, a mixture of horror and relief filling her.
"What? How did I... what just...?" she stammered over the words.
It wasn't that she was against the use of force. She'd seen Mary Margaret kill an ogre to protect her, and she still wasn't entirely sure what had happened to the two ogres that she had faced. And at the moment, with Henry's frightened expression still lingering in the back of her mind, she had no doubt that she would be able to kill Cora if absolutely necessary to protect her son's life.
But the suddenness of what had happened, of how quickly the chimera had fallen, caught her off-guard.
She hadn't been prepared for that.
She stared down at her hand. Her skin felt hot, and that familiar burning sensation had formed in her palm.
She swallowed.
She had wanted to protect herself from the chimera. She had attempted to use magic... and it had worked. She had controlled it.
Sort of.
She stared at the ground beneath her feet, then slowly extended one hand and tried to force out the white magic.
It didn't work.
She frowned, increasing her concentration. But the additional effort didn't appear to make any difference. She couldn't summon the same energy, couldn't force the magic out of her. Frustration began to build inside of her, anger at her own shortcomings bubbling underneath her determined expression.
"Work!" she snapped, flinging her arm out as though the extra movement might assist in conjuring the magic. "Work, damn it!"
Nothing happened.
"How am I supposed to get to Henry, to help Mary Margaret," she started, frustration turning to fear and a sense of utter helplessness, "if I can't even..."
The stones around her exploded into tiny fragments as they were struck by a bolt of white light.
She gasped, and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground in an undignified heap. From her position sprawled nearly on her back, she stared up at the blue sky visible through the tree branches, and inhaled slowly, thinking.
Patterns.
Finding someone on the run was all about understanding patterns. Despite the randomness of human nature, patterns always existed, woven through each person's life. It was challenging to find them, to hear the melody in all the jumbled noise, but once located… A man with a predilection for cheating did not stop seeking out attractive women just because he was running from his wife. And she had caught that man, and returned him to his furious wife, and would have continued her life as a bail bondsperson if Henry had not shown up at her door that very night.
But he had, and her life had changed drastically.
But she hadn't changed. She was still the same person, underneath it all, and she was very good at finding the patterns.
She pulled herself to her hands and knees and crawled over to her bag, to the mirror shard.
"Water," she murmured. She had been on the right track with water. She was sure of that now, despite her earlier misgivings. Lake Nostos had once been a portal, the ocean had assisted in the creation of a portal, and August had said that water had magic. This was the answer. The pattern was there.
And that wasn't the only pattern.
Every time she had actively used magic, even unintentionally, it had felt emotional. And it wasn't just any emotion. Mary Margaret had spoken of the power of love, of her unwavering, uncompromising belief that she would somehow be reunited with David. Love had given her strength to keep fighting against nearly insurmountable odds - and love had kept Cora from ripping out Emma's heart.
So the blonde leaned forward and picked up the shard of mirror, and focused all her emotions on the thing she loved most.
Thinking wouldn't help her. Analyzing wouldn't help her. There was no logic to magic - at least not any that she currently understood. But she knew what she wanted, knew who she wanted to protect, and as she gazed at the mirror, as she focused her attention on the memory of Henry's image, the way he had looked at her when she'd first opened the door and let him into her apartment, the way she felt when she saw him lying pale and still in the hospital bed after taking a bite of the apple turnover...
The glass in her hands began to ripple.
Henry's image appeared. He was sitting at the table in Regina's kitchen, staring blankly at a plate of lasagna in front of him. Regina's blurred image moved in the background, and when she turned to say something to Henry, the boy looked up and gave her a weary smile.
Emma's heart clenched painfully at the look of exhaustion in her son's eyes.
"I'm coming home, Henry," she murmured. Heat rose in her chest, tingling underneath her skin as it spread through her body. It made her feel strong, powerful - almost at peace.
She set aside the mirror and reached her hand out towards the stream. The water beneath her fingers began to bubble, then ripple, then formed a smooth surface, clear and still as glass. An image of David appeared, standing in one of the guest bedroom's in Regina's house, staring out the window pensively. The lines in his face had deepened, and his shoulders were hunched slightly, as though he was carrying some great weight on them.
Emma dropped her hand, and the image faded.
But seconds before David's visage disappeared completely, the water shimmered, and Emma caught sight of Cora.
Emma jumped to her feet, nearly tripping over herself in her haste to back away from the stream. Her breath caught in her throat, and the feeling of euphoria resulting from her successful use of magic died. There was no doubt in her mind that Cora had been watching her, spying on Emma the way Emma had been spying on her family.
And the look of amusement in Cora's eyes scared her.
Anger blossomed in her chest.
She hadn't asked for this; hadn't asked to be the product of true love, the Savior. She hadn't asked to be abandoned as a child, hadn't asked to fall in love with a man who would send her to prison, hadn't asked to be dragged into a cursed town and a magical battle by her ten-year-old son. None of this was fair, but she had done the best that she could with what little she had been given, and she had built a life for herself. And maybe the life was confusing and complicated and maybe some part of her was still so angry at her parents for putting her in that wardrobe for the greater good and maybe she carried around a lot of resentment for what was expected of her…
But she had a life that made her sort of happy. And she had Henry.
And Cora was not going to take either of those things from her.
She knelt down next to the stream once more, and Cora's face appeared in the water, slightly distorted by the flowing water now that the surface was no longer calm and smooth.
And without thinking, Emma struck out her hand and slapping the water.
And Cora's reflection reeled backwards, eyes widening in surprise and pain, as though she had been struck.
Emma gaped.
She'd reached through the water, through the reflection, and hit Cora.
She'd created a portal.
If she could get to Lake Nostos, if she could conjure up those same emotions, that same combination of anger against the world and fear of Cora and love for her son, could she make a portal large enough and stable enough to carry her home? Could she jump through the water's reflection back to Storybrooke?
The magic was humming in her chest.
She climbed to her feet and snatched up her bag. She was going home. Nothing would keep her apart from Henry, not now that she had magic coursing through her veins and a world of possibilities at her fingertips.
She crossed the stream and pressed onwards, trudging through the woods.