Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters, nor anything from C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia.
Chapter 12
Emma could hardly believe how far they'd travelled in six hours' time. Thanks to the fact that the magic compass had finally shown some sign of living up to its name, she and Jones had already reached the outer edge of the Western Wild.
Of course, they had encountered some large, hostile dragonflies in the marshes, but were able to fight them off with Jones' impressive swordsmanship. She knew he was a pirate, but hadn't really seen him in action with a weapon before.
He had shown her the proper way to hold a sword, a few basic movements and stances. Jones said that he wasn't surprised how she caught on so quickly, considering that Emma had held her own with a sword quite well before losing her memory.
She did have to admit that it felt very natural to wield the weapon and actually found it quite enjoyable, even though they were being attacked. It was empowering, much like when she used her magic.
Emma saw Jones stop for a rest, his horse coming to a halt, as he reached into his knapsack.
"The map indicates that The Garden of Youth should be just over the hilltop there."
Jones held the rolled paper down against the horse with his gloved hand, his fingers tracing along the drawn lines.
Emma still had the compass around her neck, since it only seemed to work when it stayed against her chest.
"And you think the compass is leading us to one of the rings; that it could be in this garden that Castrix told you about?"
"Indeed I do." He put the map back in his satchel and mounted the horse again.
Emma watched Jones take a long swig of his water, his throat bobbing up and down. It reminded her of a certain recent encounter.
Of course, it had only been a dream.
When Jones explained to her that an incubus was a demon that seduces women in their dreams, she was petrified. If he hadn't been there to chase it off and wake her up…
He had also said that they often take form into something that would fulfill a woman's deepest desires, which of course mortified her on top of everything.
It wasn't a big secret to her that she found Jones attractive, but her blush had more than likely given her away, considering the smirk he had on his face.
He nudged his horse forward, mumbling over his shoulder.
"We had better hope this garden has a spring, luv."
She caught the wink he gave her, his smirk remaining.
"You must be positively parched from moaning my name all morning."
Emma knew they had arrived at the right place before Jones said anything. The compass' needle started spinning wildly again, the glow projecting from her neck.
Large stone walls surrounded the garden and were covered in thick vegetation, most of it dried and lifeless. The rustling of the desiccated shrubs nearly drowned out her voice, as the wind rattled them cruelly against the stone.
"I guess we should find the main entrance to this place," she joked, glancing sideways at Jones.
He didn't seem to be paying attention, already scanning the area for a way in. Something caught his attention and he moved toward the far end of the immense wall.
She followed him with her sword drawn, and realized immediately that they were heading toward a large, now rusted, golden gate. Like the wall, it was almost completely covered, the vines wrapping around the iron poles like thin, distorted, serpents.
Jones approached the gate carefully, sheathing his sword and pulling out his dagger to cut through the shrubbery. She was surprised to see a sign, similar to the one she had seen in the forest, only this one was clearly legible.
Emma read the words out loud, her voice resonating across the deserted land.
Come in by the gold gates or not at all,
Take of my fruit for others or forbear,
For those who steal or those who climb my wall
Shall find both their desire and despair.
Jones stepped forward and yanked hard at the gate, his effort doing nothing to budge the heavy barrier. He moved back to stand next to Emma, and she looked over to see that he was rubbing his lower lip with his hand, a nervous habit of his.
He turned to her, his eyebrows raised.
"Well, any thoughts on how we get the gate open?"
Emma was about to suggest that they use her magic, when something caught her eye. Amongst the dried shrubs were a few white flowers, their pedals extending over the vine as if to ask for her hand.
Walking closer toward one, she heard Jones murmur something about being careful. Emma leaned in to get a closer look, and saw that the stamen inside the flower was not the usual yellow color, but a glowing red. Transfixed, she reached out, the beautiful flower contracting toward her fingertips.
"Emma wait!"
He was there in an instant, yanking her back as she saw the flower shoot out a red, slimy substance that narrowly missed them both. The flower stopped oozing and curled back into itself, turning black, and then shriveled into nothing.
Panting at their near escape, she saw Jones give her a look of reproach.
"Blimey, lass. You trying to get yourself killed already?" He let out a humorless laugh, putting his dagger back into his boot.
"I didn't realize I was such an intolerable traveling companion."
Emma gave him an apologetic look, not even having to ask to understand that flower had been poisonous. It had been so gorgeous, a hidden gem amongst a wall of death and stone.
"I'm sorry. It's just that they looked like-"
"Lilies. Yes, I know."
He was giving her a soft and genuine smile, the kind that made Emma feel light as a feather.
Of course he knew they were her favorite.
It was getting easier for Emma to acknowledge her connection with Jones. Much of their interaction had caused her to feel various emotions, but none of it was overly shocking. It was the familiarity between them, almost like they knew what to expect the other one to do or say.
She may only have just started getting her memories back, but it was clear that they were linked; in more ways than one.
Emma returned his smile bashfully, averting her eyes downward, and sheathed her sword. When she glanced back up to meet his gaze again, though, she saw that he was staring behind her shoulder.
Turning to the source of his distraction, Emma was taken aback. At the far end, nestled on the outer side of the wall, and reaching into the sky at least fifty feet, was a stone tower.
She couldn't believe they had missed that on their way in. Without a word, they both headed in that direction, Emma feeling the compass grow warmer.
It hadn't taken them long to reach the base, but she had to wonder why the tower was there to begin with. Emma imagined that it was probably put here for a good reason, and whatever awaited them at the top wouldn't be friendly.
Jones didn't appear to be shocked, but rather seemed overwhelmed by its size.
"Do you suppose we should try our luck climbing then?"
Emma strained her neck upward, but the height of the tower made it impossible to see anything more.
"Well, it said on the gate that we couldn't climb the wall, but it didn't say anything about the tower."
She looked sideways at him, frowning.
"But how are you going to climb one-handed?"
He let out a whole-hearted chuckle, shaking his head in amusement as if enjoying an inside joke.
"A reasonable question, indeed. Luckily…" he untwisted the gloved hand and reached into this jacket. "…our centaur mates were able to find me this."
Jones was holding what looked like a fisherman's hook, larger than the one that the police had confiscated in New York. Emma made a face that must have looked critical, because he was suddenly defensive.
"Well, it's not what I am used to, but will serve a purpose."
Emma withheld a smile as she watched him force it into his brace fitting.
"I bet you're happy to have a hook again."
She doubted it would work all that well, considering he only had a few vines and loose stone, but Jones seemed determined to climb.
"Oh, I don't know. I suppose the gloved hand isn't all that terrible."
His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, but he didn't.
"Your mother rather preferred it over the hook."
Jones dug his boot into a divot, jabbing into one of the vines, and glanced over at her.
"I'll climb and you wait here."
She wanted to protest, but he cut her off.
"We'll need you on the ground in case something other than poisonous flowers come calling."
Emma narrowed her eyes, watching him continue his way upward. She should have been surprised that he was doing so well under the circumstances, but he seemed resilient in any environment.
Without warning, the vine holding Jones violently retracted, flinging him to the ground in a heap. She watched the sea of vines disappear back up the tower and walked to over to Jones, helping him up.
"Well, Captain. There goes the climbing idea."
He dusted himself off, cursing under his breath, and Emma walked over to lean her hand against the stone wall.
"So, now what?"
Suddenly, Emma felt the stone shake beneath her hand, and she leapt away from the wall. She was shocked to see the vines return, weaving their way back down the tower. Emma noticed that there were more of them this time, most of them much thicker than before.
Grabbing onto one of the vines, Emma waited for them to retract again, but they remained. It was if they had wanted her to climb instead. She glanced over to see him shaking his head in amusement.
"Apparently it just needed a lady's touch, eh?"
She bit the inside of her cheek and turned to start her climb.
"Let's get moving."
Jones made his way over to her and started up the tower again, the occasional clang of his hook against the stone echoing over the area.
After ten minutes or so, Emma broke the silence.
"So it sounds like you're pretty close to my parents."
"I would consider them friends, yes. As Regina had said before, they were taken prisoner by the witch's henchman during a routine supplies run."
He was breathing heavily now, and Emma tried not to let it distract her.
"I had insisted that Snow stay at the castle and that I would accompany your father, but she's so stubborn, your mother."
Emma felt a pang of sadness hit her chest. There was so much that she didn't know about her parents, the things they had done or what their personalities were like.
"You are very similar to her in many ways."
He had said it in a low voice, but Emma could tell by his face that the words were genuine.
Just when Emma thought she had the man all figured out, he goes and says something like that. It was one thing to remember details about Emma that only a few people knew, but something so insightful, that also brought her comfort, was truly touching.
They were approaching the top, Emma realizing the tower probably hadn't been as tall as she first thought. Fortunately for them, the vines traveled all the way into the opening of the turret, allowing them to crawl inside without much trouble.
Her boots clattered onto the stone floor, the inside much darker than the exterior. The window had been just big enough for her and Jones to climb through, and let in a limited amount of light. The area was quite small, no bigger than an average bathroom. Despite her having become accustomed to the chilliness of the autumn air, the small room was even colder, making Emma shiver.
It didn't take them long to realize there was nothing here, apart from a small tree wrapped in the vines that had assisted in them getting to the top. Jones let out an exasperated sigh, using his calloused hand to push away the tendrils of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.
"This is what we climbed up here for?"
Emma felt her lungs deflate. It just seemed like they hit one dead end after another. Not that it had taken them that long to get up here, but they were running out of time and weren't any closer to finding one of the rings.
A rustling sound startled them both, and they both pulled out their swords in defense. Emma squint her eyes in the dark to see the tree squirming in the corner, its branches extending outward. Jones stepped forward, shielding her from the strange plant.
She noticed the leaves disappearing, the vines traveling into the tree, as the limbs shortened into what looked like arms. Through the dim light, Emma somehow made out two, round, very black eyes shining back at them from the top of the tree.
Only it was no longer a tree. It was a woman.
Covered in only a short dress made of vines, she was flawless; her brown skin smooth despite being wrapped in shrubbery, and her dark, curly hair seemed to shine even in the dim light. Extending her hand out, she looked directly at Emma.
"I've been waiting for you."
Emma turned to gauge Jones' reaction and was annoyed to see that he looked amused. After giving the woman a once over, he caught Emma's stare and looked down as if caught.
The strange woman shifted, and Emma raised an eyebrow at her in confusion.
"Sorry, but who are you?"
"I was turned into a tree nymph by an evil queen, but when I lived in another land, I was known as Rapunzel."
Someone could have knocked Emma over with one of this tree lady's twigs. How on earth did the folks who wrote fairytales get this one so screwed up?
Rapunzel is a tree?
Trying not to show her surprise, Emma gave a polite smile in hopes of placating her.
"Oh, I see. Is there any chance that you were sent here by Regina?"
Rapunzel furrowed her brow in confusion.
"I am not familiar with that name, but I do know the queen who sent me called herself Maleficent."
Emma and Jones exchanged looks, but decided not to push any further on that particular subject. It was Jones who finally spoke.
"So you are from the Enchanted Forest?"
When the woman nodded slowly, Jones smiled.
"Well, what a coincidence. We, too, hail from that land."
Emma had become accustomed to his smooth talk, but didn't care to see him practice it on someone other than herself; which of course annoyed her.
Rapunzel smiled, still looking at Emma, as if she had something else to say to her. Jones wasn't fazed, however, and continued in his usual suave manner.
"You don't happen to know of a ring that is rumored to be hidden here by any chance, do you Darling?"
Her smile vanished then, and Rapunzel looked back at Jones.
"That is why I was put here; to watch over the ring until the witch returns for it."
The woman's voice had sounded much like a sweet melody before, but the forewarning in her words now gave Emma pause.
"Many have tried to enter the garden, but none were worthy."
Rapunzel took a step closer to Emma and motioned toward her, the shrubbery of her dress scraping along the floor.
"That is, until you."
The temperature of the room now seemed even colder, the wind howling against the stone around them, and Emma cautiously addressed Rapunzel.
"So I assume you won't stop me from taking it?"
Rapunzel shook her head, the dark curls bouncing to and fro.
"I won't need to."
Jones looked back, frowning at Emma apprehensively, as if to extract a plan of action from her. Emma didn't hesitate, however, meeting the woman's gaze again.
"How do I get into the garden, then?"
"The window, of course."
Rapunzel smiled briefly, her perfect teeth shining over her plump, red lips, and she gestured toward the window that they had climbed through, the smile fading again.
"Though, be warned. A tree that grows within will bring you both euphoria and despair."
Giving Emma one last look, Rapunzel turned with her back against the window. Her body hunched over, spine bending, the woman's once curly hair turned into solid vines that creaked and twisted their way out the window and down the tower.
Rapunzel now back in tree form, Jones moved to stand next to Emma, his good hand coming to rest on her shoulder.
"I'm coming with you, luv." She opened her mouth to argue, but he insisted. "You shouldn't do this alone."
Emma noticed that he had said "shouldn't," rather than "can't" which meant a great deal to her, even in that moment. However, if what Rapunzel had said was true, there was a good chance they may not make it out of this place alive.
She pursed her lips at him, arms on either hip as if ready to resist. Still, Emma knew convincing him to stay there was a losing battle.
"We are in this together, Emma," he said to her softly with a determined look. "We always have been."
Even though she hadn't regained all of her memories, she knew Jones was right. Emma felt like they had come so far already, and that (according to him) this wasn't the first time they had risked their lives together.
Nodding her head slowly and without another word, Emma swung her leg over the tree and started the climb down the tower, leading into the garden. She heard Jones' hook crunch into a vine above her and briefly wondered whether Rapunzel would feel the shooting pain.
It was much easier climbing down, and within minutes they were standing on the other side of the stone wall, in what Emma guessed was the "Garden of Youth." However, the garden she remembered reading about as a child was nothing like this one appeared to be.
Emma found it difficult to see much beyond the dense fog that surrounded them; the perimerter of the wall lost in a haze, due to the garden's immense size. Despite the lack of visibility, though, she spotted a fountain sitting not far away. It had apparently dried up long ago, shrubs and vines winding their way around its base.
The air felt so much warmer compared to that in the tower, and the wind had seized completely. Like the woods with the portal pools, she felt comfortable, almost giddy, and there was a very pleasant smell that reminded her of a vanilla candle burning.
There was hardly a sound to be heard, besides the shuffling of their boots on the ground and the cawing of a few crows off in the distance.
Jones had come to stand next to her, his good hand brushing against hers lightly in support. He seemed to understand that something of importance was about to happen, as they slowly moved forward into the cloudy unknown.
She could make out a few trees growing in parallel rows along the path they followed, but noticed they had no leaves, their crooked branches slumped over wretchedly. It seemed the clouds refused to disperse, and sunlight became more and more infrequent since they arrived in Narnia.
"Look there, lass."
Jones pointed straight ahead to a tree which stood before them, its enormous trunk supporting the low-lying branches, which were covered in leaves, unlike the others in the garden. Her eyebrows raised in surprise when she saw that there were apples on this tree, scattered about the leaves, some in clusters.
Only they weren't ordinary apples. They were silver, decorating the tree like Christmas ornaments.
Upon closer inspection, Emma also realized that the leaves weren't actually leaves at all, but feathers. Each one appeared black and somewhat translucent, and Emma inwardly wondered whether they could stay on the branches if there was even the slightest breeze.
Unable to resist, Emma reached out to touch one, the feather leaf dissolving instantly to ash in her palm. Jones frowned, clearly as confused as she was, and started to make his way around the massive trunk for any sign of the ring.
Suddenly, she saw something yellow twinkle from above her head. This was stark in comparison to the black and silver, and Emma noticed that it shone like the sun. Craning her neck up to the source, Emma was astounded at the sight, the compass now nearly burning the skin on her chest.
There, hanging high atop the many feathers; was a golden apple.
She considered climbing at first, but remembered the words on the gate and Rapunzel's prior warning. Surely, this apple was special and the compass had led them to this point for a reason.
Emma decided to try a test, plucking a silver one that hung at eye level off the branch with a quick yank. She waited for some type of danger to befall her, but none came. Holding the silver orb in her hand, Emma felt the sudden pang of hunger overcome her stomach.
"Mom?"
Her heart must have completely stopped in that moment, his voice filling her with such a yearning, the apple suddenly paled in comparison. Jerking her head upward, Emma let out a small gasp, which nearly boomed over the peculiar silence around them.
"Henry?"
There, leaning up against the trunk of the strange tree was her son, his eyes wide and excited. There was a faint glow around him, like a halo, and he shone more brightly than the apples above him.
"Yeah, it's me, Mom."
He ran to her quickly, his arms wrapping around her middle as they collided with a thump. Her hand stroked his hair as Emma let out a long breath she didn't realize she had been holding.
Looking down into his face, Emma did her best to keep her voice steady.
"I was so worried about you."
He grinned widely at her and took a step back out of her embrace. Emma reached out for him again, but he pointed to the apple in her hand.
"Aren't you going to eat that? They're really delicious."
Emma glanced at the apple, filling her with an intense longing again, as she rubbed her thumb over its glossy skin. She felt her mouth fill with saliva, but looked up at Henry again, and frowned.
"But how did you get here, Kiddo? I thought you were with Regina and Neal in the Enchanted Forest."
Henry's smile faded and he picked one of the silver apples from the tree, tossing it in his hand.
"They aren't my real family. You are."
He stopped to consider the apple for a moment, and then continued.
"We can run away you know; escape all of this craziness. It can be like it used to be, just you and me, remember? This world of magic can't make us happy, Mom. We shouldn't be here."
A part of her felt exuberant at his speech, filling her up with a sense of being needed and loved. He still wanted her by his side, and Emma felt her fear of being replaced in her son's life disappear.
Suddenly, she remembered what Henry had said back in Storybrooke, loud and clear in her head. 'This is where we belong.'
Emma's stomach dropped, the feeling of hope from before, now evaporating into the fog surrounding them. Henry looked directly into her eyes, as if to read her thoughts, and Emma saw only emptiness there. This boy was like a stranger to her, his voice an echo of nothingness in a bottomless cave.
Something was wrong; this wasn't her son.
This wasn't real.
Her instincts taking over, Emma drew her sword and swung it violently at the mysterious thing posing as Henry. She caught a glimpse of surprise and anger on the vision's face before it disappeared into a cloud of black smoke.
There was a heavy shaking of the ground, Emma stumbling, and she saw a shimmering at the top of the tree. The golden apple vibrated violently, plummeting to the ground, before Emma caught it in her hand.
It opened almost immediately, revealing a sparkling gold ring nestled on emerald velvet.
Holy crap.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the vines that Rapunzel provided retract upward and back into the window, out of sight. There was a bright flash of light as the window closed up, and the tower collapsed into the ground as if it had never been there at all.
Emma barely had time to wonder what had happened to Rapunzel, when a loud clang rang out over the garden. She saw the golden gates swing open slowly, as if to beacon her to safety, its rusty hinges groaning under the weight.
Her heart thumping in her chest, Emma suddenly remembered Jones and opened her mouth to yell out, before she heard a choked sob. She threw the ring into her knapsack and was around the tree trunk in a second, wielding her sword, but stopped short at the astonishing sight that awaited her.
Jones was slumped over, his arms outstretched, as if begging for his life. Emma looked around wildly for the source of his misery, but saw nothing and no one else.
"Jones," she nearly shouted, shaking him on the shoulder.
The man was completely unresponsive, merely rambling incoherently under his breath. He fell to his knees without warning, a silver apple clutched in his good hand, as he sobbed.
"Milah."
The word was barely audible, but she was sure he had said that name. What's more, Emma was sure she had heard that name before, but kept her focus on getting Jones to come to his senses.
Emma knelt down, swatting the apple out of his hand, and raised her voice in hopes of reviving him that way.
"Jones, it's not real. You have to snap out of it; we have to get out of here!"
His eyes brimmed with tears, a look of desperation there that ripped at Emma's heart. He was literally inconsolable, his voice broken and begging.
"Please…please, forgive me."
He was looking right at Emma now, but she knew it wasn't to her that he was speaking. She could see that this was a wound from many years ago, long before they had ever met, and Emma felt powerless to help him.
Without thinking, she put her hands on either sides of his face, her fingers trembling beneath his sweaty scruff. His breath was ragged and his skin radiated a heat that would have put the Incubus to shame.
Emma leaned in closer, placing her forehead on Jones' and whispered to him.
"Come back to me."
His eyes flew open and there was a sharp intake of breath, as Jones looked around him in panic.
"What...but, where-?"
"It wasn't real; just a vision to distract us from getting this."
Emma pulled out the golden apple holding the ring and Jones' teary eyes went wide, a slow smile spreading over his face. She had never been so happy to see him smile at her.
Without warning, all of the leaves on tree dropped to an ashy pile on the ground, smoke escaping from the heap. Emma had barely a moment to ask Jones what was happening, and something rose out the ashes, blooming into bright colors of red, yellow, and orange.
It was a large bird, the feather's shimmering with hints of gold and silver, its sharp beak reaching into the sky as it sang out in triumph. Suddenly, it occurred to Emma that she remembered this creature from the story of Narnia.
Jones made the connection too, a small gasp escaping his lips.
"A phoenix. I have only heard about them in legend."
The bird looked at them for a moment, its bright black eyes surveying them closely, and then it took flight over the southern wall, its wing span reaching wide, as it glided toward the horizon and out of sight.
Jones turned back to the ring and considered it for a moment, his fingertips grazing its surface, before meeting her eyes once more.
"You had the ring." She nodded as if it was hard for her to believe too, as Jones maintained her gaze.
"And you remained here for me, despite the risk."
Emma frowned and searched his face for any sign of teasing, but found none. It suddenly occurred to her why this had meant so much to him, recalling the story about leaving him alone in the giant's lair and she sighed, giving Jones a poignant look.
"I'm not making that mistake ever again."
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Emma pulled him in for an embrace, her heart still pounding over the excitement.
"Besides, we're in this together, right?"
Jones nodded and pulled away slowly, before Emma reached out to help him to his feet with a sardonic smile.
"Now let's get the hell out of here before any more gorgeous tree women show up."