She agreed to lead the Prince to where she’d sold the jewels, and he immediately lowered her, telling her that he trusted that she wouldn’t run, that he would only find her again, it made no difference. As much as she would have liked to hit him in the face with a rock (again), it made more sense to recover the ring.
For three hours they walked and said little to each other, and all the while, Snow White fumed as she picked her way through the forest. Behind her, he strolled casually; there was something about his swagger that she detested. Near noon he called for a rest, and she leaned against a tree, looking off to the west.
— And what is that? — he asked.
She realized she was toying with the charm she wore around her neck. — It’s none of your concern, — she said, pulling her hand away from the glass.
— Now it is, — he said, and with a quick snatching motion, he grabbed the delicate thing and pulled it from her neck.
— Be careful! — she cried. — It’s a weapon. It’s fairy dust. It transforms any enemy into something easily squashable.
The Prince, amused, raised an eyebrow and studied the small glass vial.
— Is that so? — he said. — And why haven’t you used it on me, then?
— I’m saving it for someone who matters, — said Snow White.
— Like the Queen?
— It’s none of your business.
— Maybe not, — said Charming. — But tell me, what exactly did you do to her to incur that wrath? It’s quite impressive.
— She hates herself and so she hates everyone else, too, especially me apparently. I’ve done nothing to her.
The Prince studied her, and she looked back, aware of the fire in her own eyes and doing nothing to hide it.
He shrugged.
— Okay then, — he said. — Teach me to pry. — He held out the vial.
— What? — said Snow. — You’re just… giving it back? — He wasn’t playing by the rules of master and prisoner.
— Yes, — he said, shrugging again. — Of course. It sounds like you’ll be needing it.
Henry and Emma sat together at the diner, waiting for Mary Margaret to arrive and tell them about reading the story to John Doe the night before.
— I don’t want you to get your hopes up, — Emma said, sipping her hot chocolate. — We…
They both looked up as Mary Margaret, looking more excited than Emma had ever seen her, burst into the diner and beelined for their table.
— He woke up, — she said, sliding into the booth.
Emma didn’t even want to guess what kind of smile was on Henry’s face. This was not the plan.
— Excuse me? — she said.
— He grabbed my hand. Right at the end of the story.
— He’s remembering, — Henry said. He nodded to himself, as if this made perfect sense, and stood. — Let’s go to the hospital, — he said. — Come on! — He ran toward the door.
Emma tilted her head and looked at Mary Margaret.
— What are you doing? — she said.
— He really did grab my hand, — Mary Margaret insisted, sounding more like Henry now than Emma cared to consider. — We made — there was some kind of connection.
— Not the kind that has to do with Snow Whites and Prince Charming's, though?
— No, no, — Mary Margaret said. — No. Just a connection.
— Well then I guess we better go see for ourselves, — she said.
Sheriff Graham met them all at the door, hands up in a way that made Emma think something more had happened.
— What is it? — she said, stopping short.
— It’s nothing for you to be concerned with, — Graham said, looking over his shoulder. — I assume you’re here because of what happened last night? Between John Doe and Miss Blanchard? — Graham nodded curtly at Mary Margaret, and Emma was reminded that all of these people had relationships. She had no idea what theirs was.
— What’s wrong? — Mary Margaret said. — Is he okay?
— It’s not that he’s not okay, — Graham said, turning and leading them onto the floor. — It’s that he’s gone.
— Gone? — Emma said. — How is that possible?
They approached Dr. Whale, who was shaking his head, studying a chart.
— We’re not exactly sure, — Graham said.
— It’s not possible, — Dr. Whale said. — Scientifically, at least, — he added.
— And yet he’s not here, — Emma said. — Did someone take him?
— I don’t know. — Dr. Whale went silent, looking over their shoulders. Emma heard the clicking of heels. She tensed up and turned in time to see Regina stalking toward them. — What are they doing here? — she demanded. — What kind of operation are you running here, Sheriff? Is this or is this not a crime scene?
— What did you do? — Henry asked Regina.
Her face softened just a bit as she looked down at him, bent, and touched him on the shoulder.
— Nothing, Henry. I’m here to find out what happened to him.
— Why would the mayor get involved with a missing person? — Emma asked.
Regina straightened up. — Because I’m his emergency contact.
— You know him? — Mary Margaret asked. — How?
— I don’t know him, I found him, — Regina said. — Years ago. On the side of the road.
— But hold on, — Mary Margaret said. — If he’s out there, somewhere, wherever he is, can he — You can’t just wake up from a coma and be okay, — she looked at Dr. Whale, — can you?
— He’s been on feeding tubes for years, his legs are atrophied, and if he’s conscious, he’s disoriented and panicked. So no. He’s not okay. He needs to be back here immediately. I don’t want to speculate on what could happen to him.
— Then find him, — Regina said, taking Henry’s hand. — This is not a place for you, — she said to him. — Let’s go. I don’t want you hanging out with that woman.
Protesting with his eyes, Henry looked at Emma knowingly before being dragged away. She knew what was in his head. Go find him, he was saying to her.
An hour more into their walk, Snow slowed her pace, then stopped the Prince with a hand on his arm.
— Okay, — she said, peering toward the bridge. — We’re here. We gotta be careful.
— Careful of trolls? — he said. — Are you joking?
— Have you ever met a troll?
The Prince looked back at her.
— So we gotta be careful, — she repeated, and then led him out to the old stone bridge.
She hated trolls, but they weren’t the worst business partners. They always had gold and always seemed willing to buy her stolen goods. Her heart beating a little faster than before, Snow steadied herself, took a breath, and together she and Charming walked out to the middle of the bridge.
Seeing her looking at him, he smiled at her.
She found herself a bit disarmed by it, actually.
— What? — she said.
— What now? — he said, going to the edge, looking down. — Do we make troll noises?
— No, — she said, reaching for her purse. — We knock on their door.
She stepped across the mossy stone and set a half-dozen gold coins on the ledge of the bridge.
— Step back, — she said, and the Prince obeyed.
They heard the scrabbling first. She had seen the trolls climbing the great support structure of the bridge, and she didn’t care to see it again. They were like spiders, only uglier. They lived down below, in what she imagined was squalor. She shivered, imagining it. God forbid she ever found herself down in such a place.