Author's note: Some dialogue taken from canon, but put in different context. The plot with the Count of Monte Cristo worked out differently in this AU, and possibly took place at a different point on the timeline, but trying to figure out the canon OUAT timeline gives me a headache. Edmond is just a plot device, is only briefly mentioned in this story, and is dead anyway, so let's not worry whether his characterization is accurate here.

On the morning of the Evil Queen's official trial, instead of teleporting directly inside to the great hall, Belle and Rumple joined the crowd queueing up at the front door. It wasn't that Belle particularly enjoyed crowds, but rather that she didn't think it fair for them to use magic to put themselves ahead of everyone else. As it happened, not everyone outside the doors had any intention of going inside — the guards were out in force, clearing out the beggars and refugees taking advantage of the opportunity to appeal directly to what they hoped were people with the power to help them.

Belle frowned slightly, disliking the heavy-handedness of the guards, but this wasn't the Dark Castle where she had any authority to give orders. Then she blinked, seeing a familiar face in the ragtag group. Jacques! She caught his eye and opened her mouth.

Before she could call out to him, he shook his head quickly, and Rumple squeezed her arm in warning. Belle closed her mouth again. Of course, he was here as a spy. She guessed that not being born to Schlaraffenland, Jacques might have an easier time blending in with the others here. Now that she was reminded, she kept an eye out for other spies, inside and out of the castle. As they filed inside, she recognized another from the Beggars Clan, this one dressed as a common page boy, and more than one messenger she knew from the Wingfoot Guild of the Maritime Kingdom.

There were delegations from all the other kingdoms of the Enchanted Forest here to bear witness to the dismemberment of this one. Belle recognized a nobleman from Aurora's court, now heading the Yrktheran party, and then she saw Michel ("Le Fou" of her childhood) and his wife, Belle's cousin Marceline, her rounded belly betraying her condition. Along with the officials and nobles of Prydania, Yrkandos, and the former White Kingdom, they filled most of the floor of the great hall. Cordoned off in the back behind a railing stood the unaffiliated commoners lucky enough to be let in to see the show.

But Rumplestiltskin was not to be among them, ranked or unranked. He and Belle continued up to the minstrel's gallery, where the great and the good of the Enchanted Forest wouldn't have to endure the sight or rub shoulders with the Dark One. The banner of Schlaraffenland hanging from the railing was as much as most of them could stomach, or so Rumple explained it to Belle in a whisper.

"We may as well have magicked ourselves up here, if that's how it's going to be," complained Belle, rolling her eyes a bit. But as the view was superior (especially for someone as short as she was), it wasn't the worst thing, even though it set them apart. She offered a smile to the quartet of actual musicians who had been forced to share the balcony with them. They looked a bit nervous about it, though it didn't show in their performance.

Rumple chuckled and leaned over the railing to peer at the crowd milling below. "Let's see if any of that lot are brave enough to dare the beast lurking in the gallery."

Given the number of nobles gathered together, it would be at least an hour before they settled down to open formal proceedings. Meanwhile, gossip, private negotiations, and other informal business kept things lively while the servants circulated with drink and food. The musicians with their viols and recorders were barely audible over the hubbub.

Then, at some signal from below, the musicians put their strings and woodwinds away and pulled out replacements from under their chairs: drums, trumpets, and horns. This time they meant to be heard, as befit the rank of a king. Or two kings and a deposed queen. The crowd went silent as the fanfare sounded for the entrance of George, Midas, and Regina — the latter under guard and held by what Belle recognized as the magic-blocking leather cuff on one wrist. They arranged themselves on the dais at the end of the hall, along with a prosecutor agreed upon between the two kings.

A woman Belle recognized as Princess Abigail stood behind her father, while a large man with a martial bearing accompanied George — that must be Sir Lancelot. There were two more men, the light-skinned one young and angry, the darker one older and expressionless, that Belle didn't know. She gave Rumple a questioning glance, and he quietly answered with their names.

"The young man trying to murder Regina by sheer willpower? That's Sir Percival, the impetus behind Lancelot's fervor to overthrow the Evil Queen." Rumple sighed, shaking his head slightly. "As for the other, he's calling himself Sidney Glass these days. Rather on the nose, don't you think?"

"What do you mean..." Belle trailed off as she realized. "'Glass'? He's the magic mirror? Someone freed him from his curse?"

Rumple nodded. "The genie, out of the mirror... and out of love — see how coldly he regards her. I smell the hand of Miracle Healer Foxglove. Well, he's made his choice and paid his price."

Belle frowned. "His price?"

"His feelings for Regina." Rumple gave her a sidelong glance, then jerked his chin vaguely at the crowd. "Your friend Michel struck a similar deal once to save Gaston."

"Michel? Oh." So that was why Michel had taken Gaston's exile so calmly. Belle had thought back then that 'Le Fou' would follow Gaston, but instead, he seemed to have forgotten their former closeness. "But why would Foxglove charge such a price? What use is it to her?"

"She runs a profitable side venture, trading in so-called love potions."

"But magic can't make people fall in love!" Belle's voice rose in outrage until a glare from one of the musicians abruptly reminded her of where she was. Down below on the dais, the prosecutor was droning on through a recitation of the charges laid against Queen Regina and the evidence supporting each charge, all in excruciating detail. Belle glanced back at Rumple and muttered, "You told me that..."

"Strictly speaking, it isn't love. But it creates a powerful bond of loyalty and desire." Rumple leaned casually against the railing and gestured down at the crowd. "Very popular among those in power who arrange themselves into marriages with potential enemies. Guarantees faith and cuts down on straying from the marital bed! It's the kind of curse people consider 'light magic.'"

"What? How can it be 'light' if it's a curse? And why didn't Regina's husband use it on her? Wouldn't that have saved the kingdom some grief?" Belle didn't like the idea of magically generated love — she was glad Rumple had never tried such a thing with her! — but years of strife and bloody civil war was worse, wasn't it?

"Cora would never have permitted it. And it's considered 'light' because it only works if both parties drink of their own free will." Rumple snorted, looking unimpressed at the notion. "That's no guarantee of a good outcome — you've no doubt heard the tragedy of Tristan and Iseult!"

"I take your point."

As it turned out, the prosecutor's reading of the charges was only the beginning. After that, witnesses were called to testify and the Evil Queen was permitted to cross-examine them. Because Regina refused to acknowledge the legitimacy of the trial (and threatened a traitor's death to any lawspeaker still loyal to her who offered to represent her to the court), the proceedings took less time than usual.

Even when Belle was called to speak, Regina did little more than roll her eyes and snort contemptuously at her.

It was just that there were so many that the day ended with most of them still unheard. Belle retired with Rumple to their guest quarters, a small chamber on the top floor, practically an attic. Rumple seemed more amused than insulted, moving over to admire the vase of fresh flowers provided for them — or for Belle, as he claimed.

"The chamber maids felt sorry for you: a fair lady chained to a hideous beast!" Rumple suggested, wiggling his fingers.

Belle snorted. "It's not as if you put any effort into changing anyone's mind."

"Better this way." He plucked one of the flowers out of the vase and moved to tuck it into Belle's hair. "I like this color on you..."

Before she could reply, there was a knock at the door. Belle exchanged a glance with Rumple. She whispered, "I wasn't expecting anyone. You...?"

He shook his head, then called out in a sing-song, "Come in!"

The door opened to reveal her cousin Marceline, whose lips quirked in a faint smile as she took in the scene. "Not interrupting anything, I hope..."

Belle broke hastily away from Rumple and smoothed her dress. "Not at all. Marceline, how nice to see you." She saw another woman follow her cousin into the room, tall and solidly built under a breastplate, mail shirt, and helmet. Though the royal guards of Avonlea did include a few women, Belle didn't remember seeing this one before. She smiled politely. "And, ah..."

"This is Alec," said Marceline. "My bodyguard. She's not from Avonlea."

Alec removed her helmet, revealing hair bleached almost white. She ran a hand through the flattened mass, making it stick up in spikes. For an instant, the shadows gathered around her and Belle saw a nightmarish vision of a crimson-eyed skeletal demon, wings fraying into darkness from her shoulders.

The next moment, Rumple had yanked Belle back. His hand flew up in a gesture of warding, drawing enough power to make the furniture rattle. He hissed in the language of elemental darkness, Fury... then repeated it in the common tongue.

"Relax, I'm not here for you," said the demon. Then the vision blinked away and a human woman stood before them again. "Either of you."

Rumple's eyes narrowed, but his stance eased slightly and the furniture stopped shaking. "Then why are you in this realm?"

"She was sent to kill me," said Marceline casually. "Didn't happen, obviously, but we thought it best to warn you, cousin, in case you're the next target."

"What? Why would anyone want to kill you? And who could send a..." Belle looked at Alec. "A Fury?" She had read about them, these supernatural avengers from the Underworld. They collected a blood price from those who had broken their oaths, whether to each other or in refusing to give magic its due.

"Who can command a Fury but the gods themselves?" Marceline said, and it was not quite a rhetorical question.

Alec nodded. "Orders from the tippy-top of Mount Olympus. You see, there's a prophecy..."

Belle and Rumple shared a glance. "Not another damned prophecy! What did it say, exactly?"

"All I know is what I've heard from listening at doors," said Alec. "Olympus threatened, portentous babies on the horizon, Aphrodite fallen from favor..."

"The House of Avonlea counts Aphrodite as its foremother," Belle noted. "Was that why my cousin was targeted?"

"It's possible."

"This is all terribly vague," complained Rumple. "I hate prophecies."

Marceline shrugged. "You must be used to them by now, no? The stories I've heard..."

"You can't believe everything you hear," said Rumple, wagging a finger at Marceline. Then he turned to Alec. "On the other hand, the word I've heard for your kind is... 'implacable'.

Belle nodded. That was what she had heard, too, yet here they were with no sign of Alec trying to drag anyone to hell. "Yes, how did you convince her to let you go, Marceline?"

Her cousin smirked. "I got the idea from you, Belle."

Belle blinked. "Me?"

"Well, your sister told me about how you and your husband proved yourselves before getting married," said Marceline. "It came to me that traditionally, the three trials can be used for other purposes, too."

Rumple clapped his hands and giggled. "Ah! You invoked a trial by ordeal!"

Belle nodded slowly. "So Alec agreed, and set you three tests to prove your innocence. Clearly, you passed."

"Clearly." Marceline looked smug. Not that Belle could blame her, even if it did have a bit of their old 'anything you can do, I can do better' rivalry to it. However much they had annoyed each other as children, Belle didn't want her cousin to die!

Rumple turned his gaze to Alec. "And yet you're still here. I think there's more to this story that you're not telling."

"Plenty more," agreed Alec.

Then Marceline took a deep breath and her smile faded as she looked at Belle. "I know we didn't always see eye to eye as children, but we've grown up a bit since then, haven't we?"

Belle knew she was right, or ought to be right. She resolved to do her best. "I don't hold any grudges, and hope the same of you."

Marceline held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "So, it's like this..." She reached out to catch Alec's hand. "We... Alec and I..."

"You're together?" Belle boggled.

Marceline snorted. "Don't give me that look. You married a demon and it's obvious to anyone with half an eye that you're both disgustingly in love."

Rumple made a choking noise, then spluttered, "Ridiculous..."

Belle couldn't help but feel touched. Then she remembered, "But you're not married to Alec, you're married to Michel!"

Marceline waved the objection away as a trifle. "As long as we fulfill our duty to the bloodline" — she patted her swollen abdomen — "then it's no one else's business where Michel or I give our affections."

"The point is," said Alec, "certain powers that be don't like it when we color outside their neatly laid lines. Especially when there's a suspicion of true love thrown in there. So they're likely to make it their business, whether it's thee or me..."

Marceline nodded. "So those of us in less orthodox relationships should stick together, eh, cousin?"

"I'll keep it in mind," said Belle.

"Good. Then we'll leave you in peace, however long that may be. There's something stirring in the ether, rumors of war." Marceline glanced at Rumple. "They say you can see the future. You might want to take a peek."

"Hmm." Rumple leaned on the back of a chair, his fingers gripping it just a little too hard. "Perhaps I will. Thank you for the warning."

And then they were gone.

Belle collapsed into the chair, burying her face in her hands and shutting her eyes. Another prophecy? The gods sending a demon to kill her cousin? Potentially sending one after her and Rumple? Belle had thought Gaston was bad enough, and he had only been a mortal who got his hands on a small spark of divine power.

Rumple's hands came down to rest soothingly on her shoulders. "It's all right, sweetheart. If all else fails, I still have the Shears of Destiny."

"Yes, but it's not a prophecy that attacked Marceline, it's the ones who believe that prophecy."

"Never mind the prophecy. We'll be back in Schlaraffenland soon. Even the gods think twice before sending their agents to Schlaraffenland!" Rumple sounded confident enough, but Belle sighed, knowing it was only a front.

Who knew what the gods were thinking? Belle thought mortals were trouble enough. They were interrupted for a second time that evening when one of the servants turning up at their door was actually one of the spies from the Beggar Clan. The beggar peered cheekily around Rumple and waved at Belle.

"Jacques says 'hey'!"

Belle smiled weakly. "Same to him, I'm sure."

Then Rumple was hustling the youth inside to make his report. It seemed there was a rumor going around that Snow White was back in the kingdom. "I need to have a word with Midas."

He vanished in a cloud of smoke. By the time he returned, Belle had already dozed off, and she woke up only long enough to make sure it was him before falling asleep again.

The testimony continued the next day, and the next day after that, a grim litany of lives lost. There was a bridegroom murdered on his wedding day. There was more than one of Regina's own knights dead at her hand for displeasing her, or simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"She shouldn't have gotten in my way," Regina said to the man who accused her of killing his sister, who had been once been one of Snow White's handmaidens.

"Charlotte just wanted to make sure Edmond got a fair trial. After everything he suffered..."

"He killed my father," spat Regina. That was not in dispute. According to the prosecutor's summary, the Evil Queen had tried to use a vengeance-obsessed foreigner to infiltrate Snow White's household and poison her. Regina's father, Prince Henry, had somehow uncovered the scheme and secretly followed Edmond Dantes and confronted him just as he was pouring poison into the wine. Panic, guilt, and lightning reflexes had Edmond running a sword through the older man's heart. Regina had tracked Edmond down and crushed his heart in revenge, but not before the handmaiden, Charlotte, had been burnt to a crisp in the crossfire.

The more she heard, the more Belle was astonished at how many and convoluted the Evil Queen's schemes were in pursuit of her vengeance, but all so oddly ineffectual. She wreaked a wide swathe of destruction without ever actually killing Snow White, her supposed target. She looked at Rumple askance. The woman had been his student. He must have had something to do with guiding her down this path of madness.

Rumple flinched under her gaze, shifting guiltily. He murmured, "You don't need to say it. I could have stopped her. Didn't. Needed her that way..."

Belle reminded herself that he had stopped his part in it, at least. This point was brought home by the next witness.

"My daughter was killed by this monster, and why?" A peasant woman, called up to the dais, pointed a shaking finger at the Evil Queen. "Because she happened to share her name with the Dark One's woman."

Far from looking guilty, Regina sneered back at her accuser. "It's a pity her mother didn't have better taste in names. But you can take comfort in knowing that your daughter's death caused an even greater monster to have at least one very unpleasant day!" She tilted her head upwards and glared directly at the balcony where Belle and Rumple were leaning against the railing to watch the trial.

"The Dark One didn't kill my daughter," shrieked the woman. "You did!"

After the woman was calmed and led away, Belle turned to Rumple and whispered, "Can't we help them, somehow? I feel we bear some responsibility..."

"Well, it's certainly not your fault," murmured Rumple. Then he sighed and relented. "I can't bring back the dead. I can't even summon her spirit, as there was no deal binding us. All I could do was to return the remains to her family and pay a blood-price sufficient to let them live in material comfort."

Belle nodded. At least everyone now had a chance to be heard, their grievances acknowledged.

The last to testify was the young man who had stood with Sir Lancelot all this time — Percival. From what Belle had heard, he was widely hailed as a hero — the commoner who had become a knight, the boy whose tale had moved Lancelot to take up arms against the Evil Queen. This was the hour of his triumph, and he stood tall and composed to say his piece. Belle and Rumple both stood up and moved forward to lean over the railing for a better view.

"Let me tell you a story." Percival's voice rang out over the rapt crowd. "Many years ago, a boy returned to his village in the Enchanted Forest to find it ablaze. Villagers screaming, terror in their eyes... his whole world burning like a funeral pyre. The boy hid, praying for mercy. But none came, only an angel of death. And she slipped through the flames, relishing in the horror she wrought. But before she escaped, she saw the boy. And amidst the carnage, do you know what she did? She smiled at him."

And finally it was the Evil Queen's turn to take the stand, whether to deny her crimes, to beg for mercy, to make a belated apology, to defy her enemies, or rant against the injustice of the trial... everyone waited, it seemed, with bated breath.

Regina glared at the crowd, then at those on the dais who had put her there. "Angel of death? Is that what you think of me? I know I'm being judged for my past. A past where I've caused pain, a past where I've inflicted misery, a past where I've brought death. When I look back at everything I've done, I want you all to know what I feel. And that is... regret. Regret, that I was not able to cause more pain. Inflict more misery. Bring about more death. And above all else, with every ounce of my being, I regret that I was not able to kill Snow White!"

The hush of the crowd shattered abruptly into an outraged uproar. People had to be held back by the castle guards.

Then the outrage turned into shock as one more voice cut through the noise. "Regina!"

Regina was caught nearly speechless. "You!"

"It's her!" echoed Belle, staring down at an all-too-familiar form. "Snow White. She's really here." The outcast queen pushed slowly forward, flanked by her husband on one side and a woman in a red cloak on the other. The latter was carrying — a baby? Belle glanced at Rumple, whispering, "Who...?"

Rumple answered quietly, "That would be Snow's furry friend, Red. She and her grandmother are, ah, not on the best of terms with the pack. As for the infant... there was a rumor of a royal daughter."

Belle nodded. She muttered, "Ha, if I'd known Snow and her husband would be here, I would have had you lean on Midas to lay charges on them while we're at it."

"Wrong jurisdiction, sweetheart." Rumple chuckled. "But I can arrange..."

"No, no," Belle said hastily. "Let's just see how this goes for now. Our family doesn't need to get involved in any more drama."

"Indeed not." He curved an arm around Belle's back and they watched the 'drama' play out in companionable silence.

Down below, Snow White and Prince James faced off against Regina.

"...will have to live with your regrets," Snow White was saying. "And the people of this land are safe from your reign of evil."

"Don't celebrate too early," sneered the Evil Queen. "Your family's reign of hypocrisy and self-entitled greed is over, too. See if they don't ship you out on the next boat after me."

"Nonsense," said Prince James. "This is Snow's kingdom. She is their true leader."

Belle listened to them plead their case, amazed at their chutzpah. They came walking into the kingdom after the war was over, expecting to be given the throne? That was like expecting a pack of sharks to disgorge the dismembered corpse they had just devoured.

"A selfish traitor and a bandit," declared King George. "Neither of you is fit to rule."

King Midas was more gracious about it, acknowledging the injustice of Snow White's exile and the Evil Queen's lies about Snow murdering King Leopold. "And naturally, George will drop all charges against your husband, but the disinheritance stands. I'm afraid he has no claim to any land or title formerly granted to him in Prydania. As for the rest, we ought not mar this newly forged peace with bloodshed should you contest the treaty."

"What are you saying?" demanded Snow White. "This kingdom has always been ruled by my family by right. It needs to remain whole."

Midas shook his head. "The sun rises, and the sun sets. Time flows, and the river shifts its banks. The royal house of White has had its day, but as the events of the past few years have shown us, the favor of the gods has moved on."

Snow White looked at Midas's daughter, the newly minted Grand Duchess of East White, as if in appeal. "Abigail..."

"I'm sorry, Snow. I..." began Abigail. She glanced at George, then back at Snow and James. "You weren't here. We have to be practical."

Then Regina interrupted with a harsh laugh. "Is this mealy-mouthed nonsense the best you can come up with? You insist that she didn't murder her father, but that hardly makes her innocent. Beyond ruining my happiness, the girl is a brigand, a highway robber! By all the laws of the realm, she should be hanged, and her accomplice with her!"

"Laws? We've just had three days of hearing about all the laws you've trampled over in your murderous rampage across the kingdom!" Snow's voice rose in indignation. "I was fighting back against evil. The only carriages I robbed were yours."

James stood shoulder to shoulder with his wife. "Snow was no common criminal. An act of war against an unjust oppressor is nothing to be ashamed of."

Seeing the crowd nodding and murmuring in support, Belle couldn't hold her tongue anymore, and burst out, "What about when you kidnapped me? Was that part of your war against Regina, too?"

There was a moment of shocked silence. Rumple's arm tightened around her, but he didn't speak, either.

Snow White stared up at her, mouth agape. Then she shifted, looking uncomfortable. "In a way. Not... directly." Belle's anger must have shown, as Snow added hastily, "And we wanted to help you."

Belle unclenched her teeth enough to grate out her rejoinder, "I told you I didn't need your help, but you refused to listen or believe me."

"We thought you were under a spell," said Snow, and by the expression on her face, she still thought so. "Gaston said..."

"Gaston!" Belle had a hundred things she could say about Gaston, but all that came out was, "Why would you believe anything he said?"

"He told us what the Dark One had done to him..." Snow White's gaze flickered past Belle to Rumple, who was standing very still, practically emanating rage. "How his eye had been torn out by that monster."

"And what about what Gaston did, or almost did, to me?" Belle fought to get the words out, feeling all the eyes staring at her, as if she were the one making the shameful confession. But Rumple continued to hold her gently, giving her his silent support. "When I refused his advances, he tried to force the issue..."

Snow actually looked a little shocked. "I'm sure there was some misunderstanding..." Her glance went again to the Dark One. "He was trying to protect you from the cruelty of the Dark One. He said he had a way to... to make the Dark One do the right thing."

"What about making people like Gaston do the right thing?" Belle snapped. How ironic that Snow White was no more repentant than Regina. In fact, the former Evil Queen was watching the proceedings as raptly as the rest, even smirking slightly. "'Cruelty of the Dark One'? You don't think it's cruel to kidnap a woman off the street and lock her in a cage?"

"It wasn't... We thought you were the Dark One's prisoner," stammered Snow. "We were trying to free you. It wasn't really kidnapping."

There was a low growl from Rumple, and Belle thought he was about to say something, but he suddenly tensed. A moment later, she felt it too, the shiver of magic in the air.

A new voice rang out through the great hall. "And what of the time when you stole my child from me? Was that not 'kidnapping' either?"

A swirl of smoke touched down in the space between Snow White and the dais where Regina and her judges stood. The smoke dissipated to reveal a woman in a striking black dress and horned headpiece, holding a staff topped with a crystal nestled in a metal dragon.

A murmur of recognition rustled through the crowd. "It's Maleficent!"

Snow White and James took a step back, the prince reaching for a sword that wasn't there, while behind them their werewolf friend seemed to be trying to turn invisible. From the dais, King Midas looked over in mute appeal towards Rumple.

Rumple snorted softly. He edged over the railing of the balcony and gave Maleficent a considering look. "I do hope you're not thinking of disturbing the peace, dearie. Quite a bit of blood, sweat, and tears went into that treaty..."

Belle silently pulled magic around them, a protection spell in case Maleficent tried anything.

"If anything, you should be standing with me." Maleficent's staff glowed green, a clear warning to the armed knights and guards who had begun easing into position to attack. "All things considered. Are you going soft, Rumple dear?"

"You don't want to be testing that," snarled Rumple.

Belle glanced uneasily to the crossbowmen running up to the balcony, shoving the musicians aside.

Maleficent tilted her head, looking up at Rumple and Belle but ignoring the crossbows now aimed in her direction. "Perhaps not. But a word to the wise..."

"What?"

Maleficent smiled slowly. "If they were willing to do that to me, a mere dragon, what do you think they'll do to the Dark One's child?" Her gaze met Belle's. "At least, one assumes that's his child you're carrying..."

There was another stunned silence.

Belle stared at Maleficent, her lips stuck on a voiceless "What?"

From her side, Rumple looked at Maleficent with narrowed eyes, but he didn't dispute her claim.

Nevertheless, the sorceress seemed to sense his doubt. "I don't lie about such things."

Belle felt Rumple's hands tremble as he turned her to face him. She tried to remember when she had last bled, and maybe, maybe she was late, but she wasn't sure. Then she felt a tingle of magic from her husband. Guessing the nature of the spell, she whispered, "Is it true?"

He nodded, his expression melting into a moment of pure joy, and she smiled to see it. Then the happiness clouded over with fear and his face shuttered itself. He turned back to face Maleficent, and Belle followed his gaze.

"But I'm not here for you," Maleficent said softly. She took advantage of their distraction, of everyone's distraction, to snatch the infant from the werewolf's arms in a puff of magic. A heartbeat later, the sorceress had vanished with her prize.