Chapter I: Equivalent Exchange
"Transmutare"
From the hands placed in the center of the circle-a complex design encompassing the large room-light bands began to creep across the floor, growing longer, faster, steadier, like greedy fingers reaching closer to the edges, trying to escape the confines of the spiral.
She pushed her hands harder into the dirt floor, sinking her fingers further and staining them with the blood that already covered the floor in a strange pattern-a cane with a line and a star-and gritting her teeth against the forces pushing her back.
"Veni Foras. Factus." She chanted the words under her breath, beginning to vibrate with the motion of the circle, the lights becoming a vortex around her. Her golden hair whipped around her head and shoulders, bouncing off the ribbons of light. The air crackled with energy and the fire of a thousand suns.
"Transmutare. Factus. Veni Foras!"
The room was awash in sound and light, fury and hope, darkness and greed. She felt the creeping of the light, the dark shadows beginning to emerge from the vortex. The fear was real then. Ingredients were swallowed by the shadowy shapes, and just when she thought it would be enough...it came for her.
The shadow had morphed itself together and she could not pull her hands away, sunk deep in the bloody dirt, rooting her to the floor. She had planted herself in this seed of evil and would pay the price.
Fingers, long and thin, like spiders' legs, spindly and feeble, yet menacing, reached for her. She felt them closing in a vice around her, cutting off the light.
"Magis" it hissed in its wispy voice. More.
She would be devoured. It wasn't supposed to go this way. She had gathered the ingredients, everything should have worked. Why hadn't it worked? What had she missed? She'd gone over the process a thousand and one times, made no mistakes, so why…?
It didn't matter. Mistakes meant nothing in the face of death. She had failed. It was just as well, she'd had nothing left to live for anyway.
She closed her eyes and waited for death.
The sound of ripping, the tearing of skin, pain, so much, so much at once.
Blood splattering everywhere.
Broken, then dark.
~0~0~0~0~
Emma Swan slipped through the doors of the train just as they were about to close, pulling her suitcase roughly behind her and dusting off her long leather coat in the wake of the puff of air that hit her in the train's wake. This time it was the train station at Balin, one of the outlying towns in Misthaven. She'd come searching for yet another lead, but didn't expect it to go anywhere.
They never did.
And she would know. She'd been following trail after trail for the better part of 10 years, trying and failing to gather some semblance of information about her quarry, but it was becoming hopeless. The only reason she hadn't given up was because she had nothing better to do.
Bit sad, really.
She strolled through the station, ignoring the curious stares of passersby, couples on holiday-Balin was considered a romantic getaway to those from the central city-and families greeting each other at the check-in stations. She always seemed to make a stir, and she knew she cut a striking figure, tall enough, with a good figure, long golden hair and bright green eyes, she appreciated her appearance. It was one thing she could use to her advantage in a world that had been more unkind than just to her.
She liked to pretend sometimes that she was meeting someone-a lover, perhaps-she'd had a few of those-or a family member. The fantasy would play out until she left the station, where she would remind herself that she had a mission to complete, and anything else would just complicate matters. She was better off alone.
Balin, she realized quite quickly, was a very friendly town. As she emerged from the station a little girl ran up to her, braids swinging in time to her skip, and handed her a pink flower with a flourish. Emma took it in one gloved hand, staring bemusedly at it as the girl skipped away to pass out more flowers.
She ran her fingertips over the petals, noting the way they folded over each other, cocooning the inside like it held something precious. She tucked it carefully into her coat pocket, running her fingers over it one last time before she set out.
It was a beautiful day, although the heat was nearly sweltering. The storefronts were teeming with people. It was close to Liberation Day-the flags were flying at the city center-and all the shopkeepers and artisans were turning out new wares. The window displays showed a variety of dresses, hats, coats, scarves, and gloves for the ladies and pressed suits with beautifully patterned neckties and crisp shirts for the gentlemen. She fingered the scarf tied around her own neck, wondering if she should purchase a new one since the current was becoming slightly frayed from use. Using it to wipe up blood and all manner of bodily fluids would do that.
Further down the lane she came across the mechanics. Automail-automotive armoured prostheses-displayed across beautifully embroidered cushions through the windows. Each piece was a work of art. The mechanic had to be a master of his or her craft in order for the automail to work, and the best automail needed less repair and functioned as well as a real limb, so much so that one could hardly tell the difference.
"Well if it isn't Birdie," a deep feminine voice said, drifting across the crowd. Emma smiled and looked over, meeting the storm grey eyes in a pretty face framed by brown hair. The woman was dressed in gingham, an interesting fashion choice in these parts-well, anywhere, really-with her arms crossed, one of which was clearly automail. She was tall and muscular, and in the crowded street she cut her own circle, people moving far around her, as if afraid she would suddenly attack-well, it wasn't such a ridiculous leap of imagination.
"Don't let Ruby hear you call me that," Emma said, walking over to clasp hands with the woman.
Dorothy shrugged good-naturedly. "She'll live. I only call her Wolfie in public. She has a special name for other times," she said with a wink and a nudge to Emma's shoulder.
While most would have shied away from the mention, Emma chuckled. Ruby had been her mechanic for years-the best she'd found and the most enthusiastic about her craft-and she'd known Dorothy for almost as long. She and Ruby had been together ever since Ruby gave Dorothy's dog, Toto, a prosthetic to replace the real limb he lost during a raid, and the rest, as they say, was history. Some people still didn't believe in women being together romantically, but Emma saw no problem with it. Love was love, and those lucky enough to find it should cherish it and hold on as tightly as possible, before it slipped away. She'd had too much experience with that herself to believe otherwise. And Ruby and Dorothy were clearly very happy together. In a world as inconsistent and harmful as this one, who could begrudge them that?
"When did you get to Balin? I thought you and Ruby were staying in Central for a commission." They moved off the road to a little cafe, taking a seat in the rickety chairs as Emma gestured to a nearby waiter, ordering drinks.
Dorothy sighed, cupping her mug in her hands. "Ruby got fed up with the military dogs always coming around to make sure everything was perfect. She said: 'I can't work like this, Kansas! The money isn't worth it.' and we packed up and came here."
"I'm surprised they let you go," Emma said, taking a sip of her beverage, ambrosial juice-a poor imitation of what they manufactured in Central, but close enough to someone starved for drink after a long trip.
Dorothy shrugged, leaning back and resting an arm on the back of her chair. She gazed at the people milling around the nearby shops. Somewhere close by, a dog barked. "They'll find someone else. All they have to do is offer up twenty gold pieces and everybody and their brother will be showing up."
Emma picked at a chink in her mug with her thumbnail. "Twenty gold pieces is no joke. I still can't believe they're paying that much."
"It's just that time. The outerlands are looking mighty quiet, and you know how they are about all that."
Indeed. The Fuhrer was always suspicious of anything going on in the outerlands. Ten years of war could do that.
"When was the last time you were in Central?" Dorothy asked, tapping her mug against the table.
Emma shifted in her seat. "A few months ago. You know I try to avoid that place."
Dorothy smirked. "It never ceases to amaze me. An alchemist as talented as you, state certified and everything, and you hate Central."
Rolling her eyes, Emma drained her mug, setting it on the table surface with a thump. "I have my connection. I don't always need to be there. I won't be the military's dog."
"No, they already have a few of those. I heard the flame alchemist just got back from touring the borders. He and the Fuhrer supposedly got into a huge argument about it."
"I'm surprised he had the balls to stand up to her."
Dorothy glanced around before lowering her voice. "Well, you know he's her brother, right? Technically, they're cousins but after his family died in a tragic accident he was adopted by the Fuhrer's parents. Her mother was a real piece of work, apparently. She wanted them both to be top dogs in the military."
"Guess she got her wish." She'd met the Fuhrer, once-when she given the title of state alchemist- an experience she didn't care to repeat anytime soon. The woman had been cold, distant, strict. She'd reminded Emma of a particular grade school teacher from her childhood that she would rather forget. She preferred to keep her dealings with the military restricted to her friend Elsa, who many referred to as the ice alchemist. Elsa was responsible but kind. She understood Emma's need to keep away from Central and all its drama, occasionally confiding in Emma that she wished she could do the same herself.
Emma was a bit of a unique case. She technically worked for the military, but she was considered more of a "freelance alchemist" than anything else. Her yearly contribution of alchemical research to the archives in Central kept the Fuhrer off her back and she was allowed to roam free, so long as she didn't give the military a bad name in her dealings with citizens.
"So you've come to Balin chasing another trail after your mysterious quarry?" Dorothy and Ruby, no one really, knew none of the specifics of her quest, only that she was searching for something, and had been for the better part of a decade.
Emma leaned back, crossing her ankles and resting them on the low railing that circled the outdoor cafe. "I'd heard tell in a village not ten miles from here that a man by the name of Frankenstein lives in these parts. I have reason to believe he knows something about what I'm looking for."
Dorothy guffawed. "The mad alchemist? He spends most of his time holed up in his mansion. Anytime he does come out he looks like absolute hell, so I've heard. The man claims he can bring back the dead, of all things."
"Interesting." It was exactly what Emma had hoped and feared. The man might actually prove useful, even if he was a bit off his rocker.
The other woman studied her carefully for a long moment. "Just what is it you're looking for, Emma?"
Emma sighed, glancing down at her empty mug and wishing she had more juice, preferably spiked, for this particular conversation. "It's better if I don't tell you."
"Are you afraid you'll endanger me? Emma, if you're looking for something that dangerous, perhaps you should-"
"What, Dorothy? Stop looking? I wish I could." She pulled off her necktie and wiped at her sweaty face. Did the sun shine hotter in Balin or was she too accustomed to colder climes?
"I know you would rather not talk about whatever happened to you and I've respected your wishes, but Emma, I'm your friend. You can talk to me if you need to."
Emma nodded. "I know. But you just need to trust me. It's better if I do this alone."
Dorothy looked unconvinced but after a moment she nodded.
"Where are you and Ruby staying?" She hadn't seen any inns, but she figured there would be many, especially in a popular tourist destination like Balin.
Dorothy smiled and threw a coin on the table as she stood up. "We're at the Red Cat, but we've been looking at apartments. Ruby likes Balin, she says it's got 'character.'"
Emma chuckled, picking up her suitcase and following her down the lane. "That sounds like Ruby. I'm surprised she wants to settle. I thought she lived for the thrill of travel."
Dorothy's eyes rolled. "She'll probably change her mind. I'm just indulging her, per usual."
"You're good to her."
"I try to be."
Their boots kicked up dust from the road as they navigated through the throngs of people. They cut a wide path, probably due to Dorothy's intimidating presence, and managed to reach the inn in a matter of minutes. The sign nailed to the overhang depicted the smiling face of a red cat and there appeared to be a terrace on the second floor with red umbrellas, men and women sitting at metal tables and sipping cocktails.
"Nice place." She knew she could afford it. She rarely spent the money she earned as a state alchemist, which was substantial. She probably had enough to quit working and set herself up in a mansion if she chose to.
Dorothy chuckled as they went inside. "Well you know the military did pay Ruby a partial fee for her completed work. We thought we would splurge a bit."
"No harm in that," she said as they made their way up the stairs. Emma followed Dorothy to a door at the end of a carpeted hall. She knocked, receiving a faint "come in" and opened the door.
A young woman with long dark hair, slender and tall, was in the process of fixing an automail arm at the desk in the room. She had her hair tied back with a bandanna and her sleeves rolled up past her elbows, with a couple of grease stains on her face.
"Emma!" She jumped up, forgetting her work, and ran to embrace her. Emma laughed and patted her back. She pulled out her neckerchief and handed it to Ruby.
"Here, I'll be buying a new one."
Ruby didn't even ask what it was for. They'd done this so many times it was almost routine. She watched as her friend wiped off the grease stains, depositing the scrap of fabric on a small table that held what appeared to be several other disheveled neckties and handkerchiefs.
"Perhaps I should give you a charm to keep off grease. I fear for the fabric of Balin."
Ruby rolled her eyes, going back to the desk and picking up the arm she'd been tinkering with. It was a bit large, with a muscular build, and must've been for a man.
"Do you need any repairs? How're my babies holding up?" Ruby didn't even look up from where she'd inserted a screwdriver in a bolt on the arm, her face inches from her task. Dorothy flopped down on a sofa and Emma joined her, taking off her coat and depositing her suitcase. She rolled up the sleeve of her left arm, revealing the metal that ran from just above where her elbow would be. She took off her leather glove and wiggled the mechanical fingers, feeling a slight lag.
"If you don't mind. The fingers are stalling."
Ruby rolled over in her chair, handing Dorothy the arm to hold while she took Emma's in her hands. She ran her fingers over the metal, pressing and prodding. " We shouldn't need to reconnect everything. I can take off just the fingers." That was a relief. Removing and attaching automail was painful. Each wire had to be attached to a nerve in order to ensure correct rhythm and movement.
"What about the other one?" Without waiting for an answer Ruby bent down and pulled off Emma's right boot, showing off her automail leg, which was really more of a foot, beginning halfway down her shin. After feeling around for a moment Ruby sat up. "It looks fine. Good to know it's held up. I guess I could rethink how to make the fingers last longer."
Emma smiled. "Thank you, Ruby."
She waved her hand and took the other arm from Dorothy. "You're my best and favorite customer."
"It seems like you've got good business here," Emma observed. Many had lost their limbs in the decade long war, causing an even greater need for the mechanical prosthetics that had emerged on the market years earlier.
The sunlight shining through the desk window shone on Ruby's dark head and caused her eyes to lighten. "Balin's a nice place. I think we might end up staying."
Emma crossed her legs. "Well, I won't be switching mechanics. I think I could stand to visit Balin every time I need a repair," she said teasingly.
Ruby pointed with her screwdriver. "If you ever go to someone else I will hunt you down. I have wolf-senses, remember?"
Laughing, Emma held up her hands, exchanging looks with Dorothy, who sat back with her arms crossed, observing her partner with a fond smile.
"Anyway." Emma stood up, stretching. "I'm going to get a room. I'll come back later for the repairs." She slipped on her coat and grabbed her suitcase as Ruby saluted her with the screwdriver before going back to her task and Dorothy followed her to the door.
"You should rest, Emma. You look tired."
"I need to look into Frankenstein." She stopped in the hall, looking back at Dorothy. "Do you happen to know his address?"
Dorothy smirked. "It's impossible to miss. He lives in the big green mansion about three blocks east of here."
Emma smiled and clasped her friend's hand. "Thanks. I'll see you soon." She strode down the hall, the light sconces on the walls seeming to flicker with her movements and Dorothy shook her head, closing the door.
~0~0~0~0~
Emma glanced at the book spread open on her bed. She was perched on the patterned quilt, having discarded her coat and shoes in a pile on the floor. The picture etched on the weathered page depicted a beautifully gilded cup set with large jewels. She ran her fingers over the image.
"Why is it so hard to find a damn cup," she muttered under her breath, thumping the book closed and causing a slip of paper to fall out. She picked it up and unfolded it. Written in her childish scrawl, it read:
Alchemy's 1st Law of Equivalent Exchange:
Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return.
To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.
She'd believed in those words once, thought she'd understood what they meant, the implications of loss and gain. Those days seemed so far gone. One law was no longer her entire universe. She'd since learned how much more complicated the world was, how nothing could ever be so simple or easy. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, how true those words were.
She was jolted out of her thoughts by the shrill ringing of the telephone on her nightstand. She picked up the receiver. "Yes?"
"Is this Emma Swan?" an accented, masculine voice asked.
"Yes." She didn't recognize the caller. It was probably a military dog, checking up on her, as usual.
"This is Killian Jones, you may have heard of me." He seemed to think something of himself, judging by his tone. She had heard of him, had discussed him that very day with Dorothy-the flame alchemist.
"What do you want?" She didn't feel like making small talk, there were more important things to do.
"Well, I'm so glad you asked. The Fuhrer had led me to believe that you've been traveling around Misthaven, doing some rather peculiar research, if I understand correctly."
"That's correct. Is there a problem?" If they made her come to Central she would turn in her badge. She had no desire to live under the military's shadow. The pay was good and she enjoyed having the perks and privileges of a state alchemist, but she wouldn't give up her quest, she couldn't.
"No, no. Nothing like that. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be accompanying you on your travels for the foreseeable future."
Silence. "What."
"Mmm, yes, I know. It's for research. You see, I've been in the outerlands for the past few years and I find Central is too changed for my taste. I got into an argument with Fuhrer, well she's actually my sister, you know, and well, she decided I should accompany you." He was rambling. Was he nervous? She'd heard the flame alchemist was cocky, that he knew his level of skill was high and had no problems showing it.
"So in other words, she wants you out of her hair." It was just like the Fuhrer to pull a stunt like this.
"That's about right. Sorry, love." He did sound a bit apologetic. She supposed it wasn't his fault, but his sister's, although she could still blame him for inciting his sister's wrath.
"Fine. You'll have to meet me. I'm in Balin."
"Never been there. Well, I suppose I'll see you in a day or two." He sounded almost cheery about it. Just what kind of situation had she been sucked into?
"I suppose so. Safe travels." Or perhaps the train will break down and stall his arrival, giving her time to skip town...no, she couldn't do that. He would just follow her. The Fuhrer didn't like anyone defying orders. She'd definitely be stripped of her title and potentially thrown in prison if she tried to run.
She hung up the phone before he could reply, sighing heavily and flopping back on the bed.
Can't get anything without giving something up. Maybe those words could apply here. Perhaps if she put up with the Fuhrer's brother, she could gain access to the restricted archives in Central. Only those of the highest rank were allowed in, and she was almost convinced that there was something concerning her quarry within its recesses.
Equivalent exchange might save the day after all, were her last thoughts as she drifted off to a much needed, deep slumber.
~0~0~0~0~
The house really was green: bright, acid green. The shutters were painted a putrid grey and hung askew in certain places. The small courtyard in the front had overgrown shrubbery and the fountain in the center had long run dry. A cherubic statue stood at the top, it's face lifted toward the heavens-unlike yesterday the sky was grey and overcast-eyes covered with grime built up from what was probably years of neglect. The overall effect was fascinatingly morbid.
Emma skirted the fountain, glancing at it out of the corner of her eye as she passed. The bow and arrow held by the statue-must have been Cupid-pointed straight at her. She mused that it would probably hit her square in the eye if it suddenly came to life.
The door was a dark, stained wood with a lionhead knocker-this place really was garish-and she carefully lifted it, tapping once, twice against the door.
It was at least a full minute-not that she was counting-before someone opened the door. Emma looked up from her study of the doormat-it looked infested with bugs-to meet the somber, droopy eyes of a young man. He was dressed almost like a butler, a most disheveled one. His cravat was untied and hung loose around his neck, the buttons of his vest were not done up properly, and his feet were bare.
"Can I help you?" He was looking at her like she had come from another planet. Believe it or not, she was used to reactions like this, especially from people like this-sleep-deprived. She wondered if Doctor was working him to death.
"I was wondering if I might speak with Dr. Frankenstein." She hadn't called ahead because she hadn't wanted to be refused a meeting. If she showed up at the door they were less likely to turn her away.
"He's in the middle of an experiment. I can tell him you called. Name, please?" He patted his pockets, searching for a pen and paper.
"Oh, no need for that." She clapped her hands together and a tiny burst of light appeared. When she opened her palms, a business card rested there, her name embossed in elegant script.
The man looked vaguely impressed as he took it from her. "Emma Swan," he read aloud. "Are you the light alchemist?"
She scratched her head. "Yes."
"I've heard of your work. I think Dr. Frankenstein will be pleased to meet you." He seemed to be perking up. Perhaps this trip was a good idea.
"Well, I appreciate your help. Please give me a ring when the doctor is ready to meet." She waved as she walked away, leaving him staring after her in quiet contemplation.
~0~0~0~0~
She spent most of the next day in her room at the inn, poring over books and documents. Ruby had already fixed the fingers on her automail and she and Dorothy had stopped by with lunch before heading out to explore the city. Emma had opted out of joining them.
"One of these days, Emma, you need to let loose. You can't work all the time. You'll go mad." Ruby had said, wagging a finger at her as Dorothy practically dragged her out of the room, rolling her eyes at Emma over Ruby's head.
Sometimes she felt like she was going mad. She'd been doing the same thing for the better part of ten years. Reading book after book, talking to anyone she could find, gathering materials for research...but there were times when it felt like she was going nowhere.
She liked her life, she did. It certainly wasn't perfect, but it was hers, and something she'd carved out for herself. She'd managed to pass the state alchemist test on the first try, being labeled a prodigy, and since then she'd done as she pleased. The military, for the most part, left her alone-except for this latest development with the Fuhrer's brother, but she didn't anticipate that lasting long. Her lifestyle wasn't for the faint of heart. She was constantly on the move and following leads to occasionally dangerous and seedy places. She didn't think the flame alchemist would put up with that for more than a week or two. No, he'd probably run back to Central and beg his sister to give him an office job.
The phone started ringing and she leant over to pick it up. "Hello?"
"Ms. Swan?" A cool, crisp, voice asked. "This is Dr. Frankenstein. My assistant told me you came by."
She shifted, gripping the receiver tightly. "That's right. I wanted to speak with you about something. I'd rather do so in person, though, if you don't mind."
"Of course, of course. If you're available this afternoon, feel free to stop by."
She thanked him and hung up, breathing deeply. This was it. She might actually make a semblance of progress today.
She shucked her lounging clothes and dressed quickly, body practically trembling with excitement. Her fingers shook a bit as she did up the buttons of her shirt. She hoped she wouldn't ruin Ruby's handywork.
She slipped on her coat and grabbed her satchel/briefcase that held all her files and information. With one last glance at the chaotic room-she'd never been much of a housekeeper-she practically ran out the door.
The day was once again grey and overcast and she hoped it didn't rain. Her umbrella had gotten lost somewhere on her way to Balin and she hadn't had a chance to purchase a new one.
She practically skipped down the road, making it to the green house in record time. The assistant answered the door again, looking a little less somber and a bit more cleaned up. He was actually wearing shoes. He greeted her with a small smile and led her to a parlor at the back of the house.
The room was sparsely furnished-she guess they didn't get many visitors-but clean and a tall man with light brown hair and what she might call a historic face, walked up to her, taking her hand.
"Ms. Swan. It's wonderful to meet you. I've heard much about you." His greyish eyes were bright, like a creature that had come out of its cave after a long hibernation.
"Likewise." He gestured her over to a sofa. "Gerhardt, fetch us some tea, would you?" The assistant scurried away to do his bidding.
"Well then, what is it you wanted to discuss?" he asked as he made himself comfortable.
She pulled out a piece of paper from her satchel and handed it to him. It was a cruder drawing of the cup from her book, with notes scrawled all around the edges.
"I was wondering if you could tell me anything about this."
"I know it's the Holy Grail. The symbols on the bottom are unmistakable."
"Do you know anything about where it might be?" She tried not to appear too eager. The last thing she needed was someone asking her questions about why she wanted to find the grail.
He shook his head slowly, still gazing at the drawing. He traced a long finger around the edges of the cup. "Sadly, no. The grail is a legend. There have been attempts to discover its location but all have failed. I'm inclined to believe it's all a myth, nothing more."
She deflated a bit at that, though it wasn't anything she hadn't heard before. "I see."
They chatted for another hour or so, drinking the tea-earl grey-that Gerhardt brought in and eating tiny biscuits. Even though he appeared to know nothing about the grail, Emma enjoyed talking to Dr. Frankenstein. He was extremely knowledgeable about his field and as she listened to him speak, she filed away many of his comments, making a mental note to write these things down at a later time.
She left just before the sun set, thanking him for his time. As she was passing the fountain she glanced once more at the statue, and could swear its eyes followed her movements.
~0~0~0~0~
In the parlor of the green house Emma had just left, the doctor ran a hand over his face and through his hair, causing it to stick up at all angles.
"Do you think she'll be back?" Gerhardt had come back and stood nearby, arms crossed.
"No. I think she believed me." They both jumped at the sound of slow clapping coming from the corner of the room. A pair of bright blue eyes peered at them from the darkness cast by the setting sun and a nearby towering bookshelf. The figure emerged, revealing a tall woman with long, wavy red hair. She smiled a cat-like grin at the men.
"Wonderful job, Victor dear. I was afraid I was going to have to do something naughty." She sauntered over, draping herself in a plush armchair. Her dress was black and fitted and seemed to sway with her movements.
"I did as you asked, Zelena."
She regarded him lazily for a long moment. "You did well this time. But don't forget, if you slip up, what I can do to you." She snapped her fingers and an eyeball appeared in his lap. He cringed away, slapping it off and watching it roll on the floor.
"That's what's left of the last person who displeased me. Ingrain that image in your mind." She looked around for a moment before giving a long sigh. "Well, this was fun dears, but mummy has things to do. Ta ta!" Before they could blink she disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.
The doctor and his assistant shared a look as Gerhardt carefully picked up the eyeball with a handkerchief. "Poor bloke."
"Better him than us. Get rid of that thing."
Gerhardt sighed but did as he was told.
~0~0~0~0~
It was on her way back to the inn that Emma realized someone was following her. She turned into a random cake shop, pretending to look at the elaborate pastries set out on delicate pedestals, all while glancing out of the corner of her eye.
It was a man, she could tell that much. He had his long coat pulled up and a hat pulled over his head. His face was partially hidden by a necktie. If the point was to look inconspicuous he was doing a poor job.
She left the shop after buying a couple of tiny cakes for Ruby and Dorothy, going down random avenues and occasionally walking into shops, leading him around on a wild goose chase. She wanted to see if he would grow tired and give up or if he was more of a threat. Emma lived by a philosophy of 'always know what you're dealing with.'
She finally walked into a deserted alley and stopped, waiting to see what he would do. She heard his shuffling steps come to a halt and she turned sharply, raising a hand, a ball of light appearing as she moved quickly, trapping her stalker against a brick wall.
"Why are you following me?" she hissed.
The man held up his hands. She still couldn't see his face. "Would you mind putting that away? I would rather not have my looks ruined." His voice was muffled through the cloth that covered his mouth.
She backed up a step but still held the light. "Tell me why you're following me."
"I wanted to see what you were like. I've heard so many stories about the light alchemist."
"So you thought stalking me was the way to do that?" Well, even if he'd come up to her, she wasn't exactly the most upfront person.
"I meant no harm. I think I learned everything I needed to." What the hell did that mean?
"Who are you?"
He slowly reached up, removing the hat and revealing dark, silky hair. Next the scarf fell away, showing an extremely handsome face with bright blue eyes and a trim beard. The eyes twinkled at her, almost glowing in the light from her hand.
"Killian Jones. I believe you were expecting me?"