Chapter 17

"Swan's a woman, sir?" Smee's rotund face twisted in on itself as the gears in his mind turned and connections were made. "Those posters we found with the girl on them..."

Hook knew full well it was pointless to argue or otherwise attempt to continue with the lie. With resignation, he turned his body and retraced his steps to where Smee had remained planted. "Aye," he admitted. "Emma Swan. It's her. I've allowed her to remain safely undetected in her disguise aboard the ship, and now she's disappeared."

"Well, a reward like what the Queen's offering would certainly be a motive for someone to snatch her." Smee did not hesitate a single blink in his response. "We'd better find her quick. It sounds like she's in danger."

A swell of fondness for this man washed over Hook, granting him a modicum of relief. Whatever hideous betrayal he may be enduring at this moment, he could at least count Mr. Smee's unfaltering loyalty among his assets, and that was no small thing. "That's exactly what I intend to do. Glad to have you with me, Mr. Smee. Can always rely on you." With renewed vigor, he spun on his heel and plunged forward down the trail, freeing his sword to faster ward off the branches of brush that clawed out into the path and threatened to ensnare passers-by. "You know, I should think you my left-hand man."

"Left hand, sir?" Leaves rustled vigorously as Smee began trudging along forward again.

"Well, I've already got a perfectly good one on the right, haven't I?" He spun his blade with a flourish for emphasis, and pressed on.

The prints he'd been following held promise. They were fresh and had been left by a pair of men who'd been deliberate and unhurried in their movements, heading pointedly into the forests toward denser growth. As he expected they soon would, the trail they left diverted from the beaten path. Hook muttered a curse softly under his breath as he took careful note of his surroundings, and then followed. The sounds of Smee's dutiful footfalls continued behind him, if a bit more uneven now as the ground beneath them changed shape, varying from the smooth, well-worn way they'd come thus far.

His confidence that he stalked the correct quarry began to waver as the trail he followed began to meander in a seemingly aimless manner. Both sets of prints would reach a stop, then turn and head some paces in a new direction, again and again, one set apparently lagging a bit behind the other at each turn. When Hook stepped to the top of an incline, he at last caught a view of the heinous scene that provided the dreadful context.

He'd found one of his missing men. The body was sprawled over leaves that shone slick and wet in the moonlight. The man's countenance was unrecognizable due to the axe that had been buried in it – several times before that final cleaving blow, by the look of it – but his overall shape and his well-worn clothing left no doubt. They'd found Jack Connors. Just beyond his lifeless fingertips lay a half-rolled piece of parchment, splattered with blood. At the top, Hook could make out the word "WANTED." He didn't need to open it to know it would be Emma's face beneath the text.

"Captain," Smee's tentative voice probed through the air that had suddenly become very thick and heavy. "I know that axe."

"As do I, Mr. Smee." Why Mr. Connors had chosen to tag along after Clark into the woods in pursuit of lumber this night was unclear, as was his reason for sharing news of the bounty on Emma's head, but the result of those actions was quite obvious. Clark had viciously silenced him and gone off to claim himself a sizable sum. This was further substantiated by the single set of footprints retreating back toward the harbor.

Hook cursed more vehemently this time. They'd gotten some answers, but what he'd wanted to find was Emma. They were no closer to discovering her whereabouts, let alone returning her to safety. Relative safety, anyway - as much as a man like him could ever truly promise. He'd so thoroughly wanted to believe he were capable of more this time.

"We'll find her, Captain." Smee assured. "This won't end like the thing with Milah."

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"Where are we going?" Emma asked at length, when the silence hovering between them had grown unbearable.

Baelfire glanced at her, then fixed his eyes once more on the dirt road stretching out before them, the reins gripped tightly with all ten of his fingers. "Somewhere safe."

She waited for him to elaborate. He didn't. Overcome with frustration, Emma grabbed onto his hands, forcing him to pull back on the reins, and bringing the motion of their cart to a halt. "Baelfire. I am not in the mood to play games. Tell me where you're taking me."

"Gods, Emma! Relax a little. I've got a little place not that far from here. Nice and secluded, way off the beaten path. It'll be a good place to regroup and figure some shit out while you lay low, alright? It's about a two-day's ride from here. Less if we don't sleep. More if you want to just sit here talking instead of moving."

"Two days?" She blinked, taken aback. "I thought you just wanted to find somewhere to talk. Like a tavern."

"I think the conversations that you and I need to have warrant quite a bit more privacy than we're apt to find in a local tavern. You're not exactly dressed for it, either."

"I suppose that's fair," she admitted with reluctance. "But I won't just disappear without telling Hook. I have to-"

"Hook?" His whole body rotated toward her suddenly, his agitated focus no longer impatiently fixed to their way ahead. The full intensity of his attention fell upon her now, causing her innards to squirm slightly.

"Yes. He's a ship's captain. He-"

"I know who Captain Hook is." He cut her off tersely. "I know all about Captain Hook. He's a pirate captain. I want to know how you know him. And maybe what you owe him. He's a dangerous man, Emma. If you're mixed up with him, we should probably be moving a hell of a lot faster, and definitely not be stopping for a chat in the middle of the road. He's not the type of guy you want to screw around with."

Taking greater offense than she could fully explain, she scoffed. "I'm entirely capable of making my own decisions about what types I should be consorting with, thank you very much. I need none of your judgments. Hook provided me with safe passage aboard his ship despite the bounty on my head, I'll have you know."

"It was his ship you were on?!" The volume of his surprise left her a bit startled. Emma's jaw snapped shut, but she quickly nodded an affirmative response. He laughed then, but there was no mirth in it. "Small world," he muttered. With both hands, he scrubbed wearily at his face, then clasped his palms together, his elbows resting on his knees. "I guess that Clark guy got off easy after all, if that's the captain he was double-crossing. I know that the Jolly Roger isn't a passenger vessel, Emma. What did you have to promise him in return? How bad is it?"

"There's nothing bad about it at all." Emma insisted too quickly, and bit down on her tongue in an over-correction. She fought the urge to look down at herself or off into the distance, trying instead to make some show of pride in the set of her jaw.

"Wait a minute..." Baelfire straightened, and leaned back to regard her more thoroughly, as though he'd realized there was a detail he'd missed and now felt the need to reexamine the entirety of her. His brow creased as he frowned. "You're his, aren't you?"

"I'm not some object-"

"You know what I mean." He cut through her weak protests. After a long pause, his voice dropped to a softer tone. "Is he what's got you looking-" he gestured vaguely toward her body "-like you do?"

"No." Emma attested, gathering his meaning. "The injuries aren't from him. He's been good to me."

After searching her features a moment, Baelfire gave a small nod. "Well then," he cleared his throat loudly and took the reins back into his hands, giving them a swift flick. Guiding the horse around to return them the way they'd come, he cocked a brow at her. "I guess we'll go have a talk with Captain Hook."