Chapter Text
Belle scratched a diagonal line over four verticals, completing her first tally. “That makes five nights,” she announced to the genie.
He popped into the mirror immediately. It was time for him to collect. “Put my shard into the frame,” he said. “I told you I’d keep my end of the deal.”
“You did,” she agreed, placing the piece of glass where he could reach it. Grinning, he snatched it and ducked back out again.
“Oh!” Belle cried in surprise. She didn’t expect him to leave so fast, and despite having demanded her privacy, she was actually sorry to see him go. He was the only soul she’d spoken to since she’d been locked up. She was getting so bored and lonely, she felt like she could settle for almost anyone’s company. . . except Brunhilde’s. Better to let the sleeping broomstick lie.
The worst part was knowing that she couldn’t call Rumple. She heard him call her Name on her first night, and it was still replaying in her mind like an echo in a cave. “Belle, where are you?” he begged. “How are you?”
She could tell by his anguish that the Queen’s psychological torture was working on him, yet she didn’t dare answer. As the Queen made perfectly clear, any attempt to Summon him would plunge his spirits lower. So she held herself back, relying on Jefferson to get word to him. But after five days of total silence, she had to assume that Jefferson never made it. Quite likely, the Queen grew suspicious and blocked him. She prayed he wasn’t hurt.
Praying put her in the mood to call Blue. . . again. She’d been trying day and night, but so far, the only response she’d gotten was her crystal fogging up. Usually, it brightened with color. Now it was as cloudy as an overcast day. It was as though Blue was signaling that she heard but couldn’t do anything to help. Belle speculated that the feud between Rumple and the Queen was like the magical war in Arendelle. Mixing fairy magic into it might touch off a nastier fight.
“Come if it’s safe,” Belle whispered as she stood beside her window, her only view of the outside world. “And if it isn’t, send me a clearer sign.”
With her fingers around her crystal and her eyes on the stars, she waited for the kind of sign that she’d experienced before, but the crystal didn’t speak words into her mind, and the forest didn’t serenade her. Frustrated, she plopped down onto her cot.
“Might as well turn in early,” she thought, but then a little bug hopped through the bars of the window. He caught her attention by chirping the first few notes of “The Call of Gideon.”
“Jiminy Cricket!” she exclaimed, springing up and rushing back to the window. She’d been so busy gazing at the heavens, she overlooked the simple creatures of the earth.
“I’m flattered you remember me,” he said, bowing with his umbrella in hand.
“How could I forget? Did Blue send you again this time?”
“Yes, and she’ll be joining us herself soon. We’re sorry we took so long. We were at the Edge of Realms. Time stands still over there. But we have news of Rumpelstiltskin.”
“How is he?”
It was hard to read a cricket’s facial expressions, but Belle thought he looked worried. “Well, the good news is, he asked to give up the Dark Power. That’s exactly the impulse he’ll need to finally let it go. He proved he has it in him.”
“So what’s the bad news?”
When Jiminy stayed quiet, Belle understood. It wasn’t the Dark Power that Rumple wanted to give up. It was his immortality. He wanted to kill himself.
“We talked him out of it,” Jiminy assured her. “We threw him a lifeline – the future. His past and present are full of pain, but he’s capable of single-minded focus when one of his schemes shows promise.”
“So he knows I’m alive and he’s hatching a plan to come get me?’’ Belle asked with anxious excitement. “Did you warn him about the squid ink on the walls? The Queen rigged this cell to cripple him. Defeating her will be an uphill battle.”
“I’m sorry, Belle, but that’s where things get complicated. We cannot allow Rumpelstiltskin to rescue you, nor can we free you ourselves. For his own good, and the good of the realms, Regina’s reign must endure.”
A streak of electric blue flashed across the sky. Belle’s crystal lit up in the exact same shade. She understood that her hunch was right. Blue was not going to intervene.
“Redemption is possible for everyone,” declared the fairy, fluttering down beside Jiminy. “It’s the Dark One’s destiny, as well as Regina’s.”
Belle couldn’t stop herself. She got angry. “You mean to tell me that I have to stay here with Rumple believing I’m dead for the sake of that evil witch? How can she be redeemed? Surely you don’t expect her to tell him the truth!”
Jiminy touched his finger to his mouth, reminding her to lower her voice. There was a guard posted right outside. “Regina will change her ways in the Land Without Magic. Just like Rumpelstiltskin.”
Blue nodded. “Regina’s redemption is a necessary step toward the completion of his. Since he was the one who put her on the Dark path, he bears partial responsibility for it.”
Belle wished she could refute what she was hearing, but she knew that fairies didn’t lie. “Rumple couldn’t have corrupted her if she wasn’t willing,” she countered. “Besides, he must have had some purpose in mind. He always uses Darkness to defeat Darkness. That’s how he bends it toward Light.”
“Very true,” said Jiminy, “and Regina is a textbook case. She needed to tap into her Dark side to get out from under the thumb of her abusive mother.”
“A ruthlessly ambitious witch,” said Blue. “She was the one who wanted her daughter on the throne. Regina had no interest. She never wanted to marry King Leopold. She was forced into it.”
Belle gave Blue a skeptical look. She knew what it was like to be the pawn of a parent’s social climbing. There were ways to resist. She escaped her own arranged marriage by going to live with Rumple. But she was stunned into silence when Blue finished the story.
“Regina tried to elope with her True Love, but her mother caught them in the act. She murdered him on the spot. Right in front of Regina.”
Belle gasped. She wouldn’t have believed it possible after everything Regina put her through, but she felt genuinely sorry for her. With a history like that, it was no wonder she was so bitter and twisted. But if she loved someone once, there might be a core of goodness left inside her. That was the key to her redemption. And ultimately, to Rumple’s.
Belle considered everything she’d ever learned about this mysterious realm of redemption, the Land Without Magic. Since Rumple was so circumspect, her best sources of information were Wu Long and Isaac the Bookseller. They corroborated what the fairies were saying now. She and Rumple would get their second chance at happiness in the unmagical land. The curse-breaking power of True Love’s Kiss would no longer be necessary. Patience and empathy would transform Rumple instead.
Obviously, the Queen envisioned that Land very differently. “Never-ending bad luck,” she’d gloated to Jefferson. But he told her that she was mistaken. Happy endings weren’t guaranteed there, but that didn’t mean they never occurred.
“Regina expects the Land Without Magic to be much worse than it is,” Belle concluded aloud.
“There are bad parts of it,” said Jiminy. “She intends to use them to make people suffer, including you.”
“She’d never want to go otherwise,” sighed Blue.
“She’ll live without magic,” thought Belle, “but not the chance to harm others.”
It was hard to believe such a witch could ever be redeemed, but most people would say that about Rumple. And since his redemption depended on hers, Belle knew it was in her interest to make sure it happened.
“How can I help?” she asked.
Blue and Jiminy beamed at her.
“We knew we could count on you,” said Jiminy.
“There’s no one better qualified,” agreed Blue.
“But what must I do?” asked Belle.
Jiminy patted Belle’s hand with his wing. “The same thing you did with Rumple. Stay positive. Show Regina that she can lock up your body, but not your heart and mind.”
Blue lifted her wand. “And with G-d’s grace, we will lighten your load. Do you remember the blessing we crafted together for Anna of Arendelle? You asked me to make her prison cell more comfortable, and for the witch jailing her not to know it. Well, the blessings we bestow on others accrue to us. All the goodwill you granted to Anna will now be gifted to you.”
Blue nodded at Jiminy, who touched the tip of his umbrella to her wand. A blend of blue and green light flooded the cell. A heavy cloth materialized and draped itself over the mirror in case the genie reneged on their deal and peeked in. Then, new furnishings began to crop up. The cot widened into a cozier bed, and a bathtub appeared in the corner. She even gained a dining table. It was set with a plate of meat pies and a pot of Mama Bea’s brew of peppermint tea. But best of all, her very own copy of Her Handsome Hero landed in her hands.
“Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed. “It’s almost like my quarters at Rumple’s, except. . . ”
Not wanting to sound ungrateful, she didn’t finish the sentence.
“Except for the library,” Blue finished for her. “Built from Book Magic, and more significantly, from Rumpelstiltskin’s love. Nobody could duplicate that.”
Belle felt her throat tighten, but she willed herself to stay positive. “It’s all right,” she said, hugging her favorite Book to her chest. “If I can only have one thing to read while I’m here, I’m glad it’s the stories of Gideon.”
But as soon as she said it, she remembered that she did have something else to read – that Cuckoo’s Nest book that the Queen sarcastically called “entertainment.” She’d kicked it under the cot so it wouldn’t tempt her.
“All of this will vanish whenever Regina or any of her underlings comes near,” said Blue. “And we must disappear, too. I’m sorry, but we might not be able to visit very often. Our Land will be undergoing some tremendous upheavals before we are brought to our new home.”
Jiminy shook his head sadly. “Things are bound to get worse before they get better.”
At that grim prospect, they all paused in silence, with no one daring to speak of the nightmarish scenes playing in their heads. A wailing voice broke the stillness, and it didn’t come from another prisoner in a secret nook of Regina’s palace. It was Rumple, far away in his own castle, calling to Belle in the tone a mourner might use at a beloved’s graveside. “Oh, Belle, I’m so sorry,” he wept. “I’ll become a better man for you. . . I promise.”
Belle’s resolve to stay positive instantly crumbled. Tears began trickling down her cheeks. The “I’m sorry” told her exactly what Rumple was doing. He was sitting alone in the Great Hall, drinking out of the chipped teacup, hoping to absorb its restorative magic.
“You see, his journey of change has already begun,” said Blue.
“It’s painful, but he’s growing,” said Jiminy.
Belle wiped her eyes and nodded to show that she accepted this phase of her mission. She must stay apart from Rumple and wait till they were reunited in the new Land. That was where his promise to become a better man would finally be fulfilled.
The two fairies tapped Belle with their wands and filled her with their encouragement. Then they turned into little balls of colored light and flew off to join their fellow fairies, lighting up the night sky like the aurora borealis.
Belle watched the spectacle for a moment, but the lure of her first decent meal in five days, to be followed by her first bath, was stronger. After that, she settled into bed with the tales of Gideon, reading late into the night. And the next morning, when the hooded servant who delivered her daily bowl of mush arrived, everything vanished as Blue said it would. . . or almost everything did. Her bed shrunk back into a cot, and the cell became bare again, but the Book remained. Belle hid it behind her back until the servant left. Then, she watched with delight as her furnishings returned and berries and cream replaced the runny mush.
Every day afterward followed the same pattern, and the hours seemed to pass more quickly. Belle felt like she was scratching notches into her wall at shorter and shorter intervals. But when the wall was half-covered, she realized she wasn’t deluding herself. There was a perfectly logical explanation. Rumple was speeding up Time. The longer he had to live without her, the more restless he grew to leave this Land behind.
One afternoon, while she was absorbed in the chapter called “Gideon in Captivity,” the Queen unexpectedly entered her cell. Belle rose to her feet and curtsied.
“Oh, spare me your toadying. It won’t get you out of here.” Her eyes fell on the Book. “What’s that?”
Belle did not grovel or show fear. She remained as calm and upbeat as the fairies advised her to be. “It’s my favorite Book, Her Handsome Hero. I take it everywhere. I brought it to Rumple’s, to China, and even though you tried to seize it. . .”
“Shut up!” snapped Regina, seizing it from her once again. “I don’t know who smuggled this to you, but I’ll get to the bottom of it!”
She stalked over to the cracked mirror and began yelling at it. “Deadbeat genie, show your face! How’d a book get in this place?”
Like a loyal soldier reporting for duty, the genie appeared. Belle wondered what he would say. Thanks to the fairies’ blessing, the mirror was covered most of the time, and that was over and above his own promise to leave her alone. He didn’t know anything about the Book, but he couldn’t admit that to his Queen.
“Your majesty left it here for the prisoner,” he replied, pretending that he’d been standing watch all along. “I remember it distinctly. It was the first time I ever heard anyone called a ‘bookworm.’”
“Idiot!” screamed Regina, shaking Belle’s prized possession in front of his eyes. “This isn’t the same book!” She stretched out her arm, and Cuckoo’s Nest floated out from under the cot. “This is! Can’t you tell the difference?”
As one book was a thick, leather-bound volume and the other a much smaller paperback, all the genie could do was mumble an apology.
“The Book was returned to me by magic,” Belle piped up, deliberately glossing over the specifics. “It was a gift from my mother, just like this necklace.”
She dangled the crystal around her finger as an unspoken reminder to Regina of her failed attempt to remove it. The electric shock must have been memorable enough. Regina was glaring at her.
“I’m sure I’ll get my Book back when I need it,” Belle continued. “But till then, I give you permission to borrow it. It’s full of inspiring lessons about moral leadership.”
It was a long shot, but perhaps it would give her redemption a boost.
Regina put her hands on her hips. “Who do you think you are giving me permission? I’m in charge here! You may have some magic on your side, but it’s so weak, it’s laughable. Here you are, in jail, and the best it can do for you is return your favorite book? Hah!”
Belle held her tongue, but she knew Regina was all bluster. Book Magic was powerful, and Jefferson already warned that she was out of her depths by trying to use it.
“Furthermore, bookworm, I gave you something to read.” She pushed the air, forcing Belle onto her cot. “So have a seat. It’s Story Time in the prison library.”
She conjured chains around Belle’s wrists and ankles and floated Cuckoo’s Nest toward her. It hung suspended at her eye level, and without a human hand touching it, the book opened to Page One. “Since my panopticon seems to have fallen down on the job, not only is he going to see to it that you read that book, he’s going to listen. You’ll be reading aloud to him. I’m sure you’ll both find this tale full of inspirational lessons.”
With a malicious grin, she snapped herself out of the cell, bolting the door with her exit.
The fairy blessings didn’t restore themselves after she was gone. Everything remained exactly as she left it, with Belle chained to the cot and the genie uncovered in the mirror.
“I understand she’s using that book as a torture device,” he said, “but what can it actually do?”
“Stories in books are like spells on a scroll,” explained Belle, translating Book Magic into terms that the genie would understand. “When you read them, they shape reality. She’s hoping that what happens in this book will come true for us in the new Land.”
“And what was that word she called me?”
“Panopticon.” Belle had learned about it from exploring her Victorian collection. “It’s a concept for prison design, invented by philosopher Jeremy Bentham. She certainly applied it here. As long as I know that there’s a chance you’re watching me through that mirror, I’ll behave myself whether you are or not. But she’s using the term incorrectly. The panopticon is the structure itself, not the person standing guard.”
“Well, that’s precisely how she sees me – as a thing. Usually, I’m ‘Mirror, mirror, on the wall.’ She hasn’t called me by my name since. . .”
His voice trailed off, and he got a pained yet dreamy look on his face. The classic signs of unrequited love.
“What is your name?” Belle asked, getting him to refocus.
“Khalid.”
“Pleased to know you, Khalid.” She looked down at her chains and back up at the book. “We’d better get started. I doubt these chains will come off any other way.”
From its very first sentence, the book cast an ominous mood. They’re out there. Each page turned as Belle finished it, and it didn’t take long to discover the Queen’s intentions. Like most books from the Land Without Magic, it was full of alien words and phrases, but it soon became clear that the “cuckoo’s nest” was a hospital for the insane. All the characters, other than the Big Nurse, were deemed to be mad.
“She wants to drive us crazy!” exclaimed Khalid.
“We have to resist,” said Belle. “She can lock up our bodies, but not our minds.”
Privately, though, she supposed that Khalid was halfway there anyway. The Queen already had his heart.
They spent the next few hours gripped by the story of Randle McMurphy, the hero who flew over the nest. They cheered him on as he empowered the other patients. But when they reached his tragic ending, Khalid nearly cried. “That Evil Nurse destroyed him – body and mind,” he choked.
“But we don’t have to be McMurphy to learn from him,” said Belle. “A wizard of Book Magic once told me that characters can take the lead in their own stories. So let’s be the Chief. We’ll stay silent and bide our time until we can break free.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing, and I’m sick of it,” said Khalid. “Besides, our chances of escape are better from here than there. I never want to set foot in that Land Without Magic. Trouble is, I need broken glass, and with you in those chains, you can’t reach the pile.”
But the second he said it, the fairy blessing resurged. Cuckoo’s Nest fell to the floor, and Belle’s chains burst open. She stood up and stretched out.
“Who’s doing all this magic for you?” asked Khalid. “Is it the Dark One?”
“Sadly, no. He still thinks I’m dead. Her evil spells couldn’t be undone.”
But they could be sidestepped. The next item the fairy blessing produced was the cloth that normally covered the mirror. Belle knew just what to do with it. She couldn’t entirely trust Khalid – a man in love with a wicked woman could be driven to anything – but she could help him leave her. She grabbed Brunhilde, swept the pile of glass out from under the cot, and gathered the whole mess into the cloth. Then she folded up the corners and carried it to the mirror like a sack. One by one, she put as many pieces into the frame as would fit.
“Take them,” she told Khalid, who promptly began picking them out.
They worked together like a synchronized team. Belle filled the frame as quickly as Khalid could empty it. They kept going until there was nothing left in the sack, but Belle held onto one shard for herself. She wanted to continue tallying the passing days. Tracking the time kept her mind organized.
“When I finish my escape hatch, I’ll find a way to get you out of there,” said Khalid. “I owe you that much. I’m aiming toward the cursed mirror of another witch. She’s in Arendelle.”
“Arendelle!” cried Belle, as Khalid disappeared. “Wait! Come back!”
But Khalid was so eager to resume work on his escape hatch, he didn’t return, leaving Belle with a burning question. Was his witch in Arendelle the same one holding Anna prisoner? Maybe she’d be able to negotiate Anna’s freedom, too!
“Wait! Come back!” mocked Regina, her face appearing where Khalid’s had been. Her expression turned severe. “Now, what could you possibly want with your Big Brother? Sound like you’re trying to form an alliance. I should have expected as much from the girl who seduced the Dark One. Well, it’s easy to nip that in the bud. From now on, you’re in solitary!”
“In solitary” was one of those alien phrases that took no guesswork to understand. First, Regina’s face disappeared, and then the mirror did, too.
“ARRRGH!” screamed Belle in a rare fit of temper. It was such a cruel tease to be shown a means of saving Anna, only to have it yanked away in the next second. She picked up Brunhilde and began banging her against the floor. “You were supposed to rescue Anna! You wouldn’t be a broomstick if you had only listened! I would have rewarded you with your own freedom!”
She whacked the floor a few more times, but it was stupid to yell at a broom. Anna’s capture was her fault, not Brunhilde’s. She threw the broom aside and sank down onto the bed, but it didn’t widen or soften like usual. Then the chains clamped themselves around her again, cuffing her in place.
“Am I doing this to myself?” she wondered. If so, she’d better get hold of her troubled conscience. She was subverting the fairy blessing and doing Regina’s work for her.
She tried to relax, but the chains would not loosen. Then she heard a tumult outside – men shouting at each other, followed by the clanging of metal swords.
“They’re out there,” she thought, remembering the opening line of Cuckoo’s Nest.
A handsome man entered her cell. Though wearing the same hooded cloak as her meal server, she knew he had to be an impostor. The regular server only came in the mornings, and he never uncovered his face. This man had such swagger, not only was he boldly revealing himself, he was sporting a garish earring. That told Belle that he was a pirate. The hook in place of his hand told her which one.
“You must be Belle,” he said.
“The Queen sent you, didn’t she? She wants you to kill me.”
Fitting that she’d send one of Rumple’s fiercest enemies to do the job.
“I’m not here to kill you, love. I’m here to rescue you.” He bent down and unlocked her cuffs.
“Rescue me? Who are you?” she asked, feigning naivete.
“A friend.”
Belle didn’t believe that for a second, but she knew how to play this game: live up to the low expectations of the person trying to trick her.
“We haven’t much time,” he began, hoping to whip her into a panic. “Your father’s life is in danger.” He told her a story about how Rumple attacked Father. Then he got to what he was really after - Rumple’s dagger. “There are rumors of a magical weapon that has the power to kill him.”
Belle willed herself to sound casual, but this was a precarious circumstance. Whoever killed Rumple with the dagger would become the next Dark One. Rumple hadn’t borne the burden of the Dark Power for all those years to let it fall into the hands of the villainous Captain Hook.
“Belle, your father’s life hangs in the balance. I need to know what that weapon is and where to find it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, “and I have no idea how to . . . kill Rumpelstiltskin.”
She was taking a risk in saying his Name, but perhaps he would hear it as a warning instead of a Summons. Perhaps it wouldn’t intensify his grief.
“Then I’m afraid I’m not here to rescue you,” said the pirate.
And the next thing Belle knew, she was lying on her cot, moaning in pain. Her head hurt so much, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. Luckily, the fairy blessing sprung right into action. Someone began dabbing her wound with a cold compress.
“Oh, thank you,” she said, daring to open her eyes. She was expecting to see Blue or perhaps a lesser fairy, but the gentle hands tending to her belonged to none other than Brunhilde. Belle’s need for relief turned her human.
“How long have I been unconscious?” Belle asked her.
“I don’t know. I revived when you did.”
That made sense. But unlike in the past, Brunhilde didn’t let her hands wander where they weren’t welcome. In her new capacity as nurse, she concentrated only on Belle’s aching head. Her fingertips didn’t even graze Belle’s skin. Apparently, her desire for life overrode her usual desire for Belle’s body.
Belle closed her eyes again and let the cool dampness soothe her, but within seconds, she had a vision that gave her a jolt. She saw Anna, lying in a dreary prison cell. It didn’t look like she was enjoying the comforts of a fairy blessing. Belle’s anger flashed at Blue for failing to deliver what she promised, but then a more dreadful thought took hold. Perhaps her gain was Anna’s loss. Blue said the blessing benefitting her came from what she’d wished upon Anna. But if only one of them could have it, she’d rather it be Anna.
“Shhh, calm down,” said Brunhilde, pressing down harder on the cloth.
Another vision filled Belle’s mind, and now she understood where they were coming from. She and Brunhilde were experiencing a Thought Transfer. She’d read about it at Rumple’s. All it took was two people and a wet cloth. By touching it at the same time, they could read each other’s thoughts. She was seeing into Brunhilde’s mind, and Brunhilde was showing her the inside of Anna’s. The fairy blessing did work. . . in Anna’s dreams. As long as she stayed asleep, she didn’t feel the gloom of her jail cell. The dream brought her to her happy place.
Belle understood implicitly that she wasn’t seeing a vision of the present, but a memory of Brunhilde’s recent past. “So you did go to Arendelle like I asked,” she thought at Brunhilde. “Did you release Anna from jail?”
At this, Brunhilde deliberately cleared her mind. The only vision she allowed Belle to see was the palace of Arendelle surrounded by mountains and fjords. She was going to dole out her story little by little. Prolonging Belle’s curiosity would keep her human. “I’ll be punished for doing what you don’t want,” she thought at her, “but no harm can come to me if I slip in tiny doses of pain while catering to your other wishes.”
To prove the point, she began massaging Belle’s scalp. It was Belle’s favorite sensation when Rumple initiated it, but from Brunhilde, it was embarrassing and pleasurable all at once. Pleasure won, so Brunhilde’s fingers remained muscle and flesh instead of turning into rough, scratchy wood.
“Aww, poor Anna,” she taunted Belle mentally. “Her fairy blessing is a mere dream. You really ought to do more to help her.”
She chuckled out loud because neither of them could do anything from inside Regina’s prison.
“My mind is my own. I’m in control of it,” Belle told herself.
But Belle knew that her struggle was about to get a whole lot harder. Brunhilde would keep playing head games on her, using her feelings of guilt against her, like the Queen was doing to Rumple. In the tiny confines of her prison cell, the main battlefield was within.