Chapter Text
There was, of course, no promise that the door they were looking for was at the Sorcerer's Mansion. He was just working off a hunch, something based on the theory of Occam's Razor. In his experience, the simplest explanation had often proved to be the correct explanation. Often-but not always. In this case, August had said that the Sorcerer had trapped the Author behind a door. He knew that wasn't true, but August's nose hadn't grown, which meant that to August's mind it was Truth. Knowing what he knew over the years of his own research and listening to rumors, knowing what Nimue had locked away in her head, that the Author was a job not a person, that someone different had been doing it for a long time, and that Merlin was in fact still a tree…he knew that Merlin hadn't been the one to imprison the Author.
"His Apprentice, however…" Nimue whispered in his ear.
Yes, his Apprentice was the most likely candidate. And fortunately for him, since his freedom, he'd become all too familiar with the man who had eluded him for centuries. Where he'd been, how he'd lived, even who he'd been in this land. If the simplest explanation was often the correct explanation, then searching the Mansion, and the property where Yen Sid had apparently been living in that run-down old cottage, was the best place to start. Shutting him away behind one of the many doors in that monstrosity, rooms filled with artifacts, magical and ordinary, would have been the simplest explanation. But, unfortunately for them, it obviously wasn't the only explanation.
He brought his witches to the very edge of the property line, so that if any kind of spell had been cast over the place to look over it, then hopefully they wouldn't sense their magical signatures before he removed the spell, but that proved to be useless. There was no spell on the property. If the Apprentice was watching it, he was monitoring it in some other way.
He caught Maleficent up as they walked across the yard, giving her a brief overview of the building, what it housed, and what it didn't house. He let them both know that he sensed magic here, but dulled. And expansive as the house was, this was going to require them to search every room and open every door.
"Even the doors that don't look like doors," Regina muttered as they climbed the stairs. He glanced over at her with curiosity. That kind of comment made very little sense to him, and he wanted desperately to figure out what it meant. Fortunately, with Regina, a look was all it took. "After you'd gone, Henry did some exploring and found a room hidden behind a wall. Obviously, it's not going to be our door, but the door could be inside a hidden room. Don't worry, I'll check."
Indeed, it could. He vaguely remembered finding a wall that felt as though it was emanating magic; he wondered if perhaps his curious grandson had solved the mystery. And the fact that Regina had shared that information so freely had him wondering if perhaps his distrust in her was misguided.
"Remember, we're looking for a door of wood, a hand-carved frame, and gold. Was that accurate?" he questioned, looking to Regina.
"From what I remember?" she shrugged and he gave her a skeptical look, pressing her for more information. "What?! I told you I thought it was just a scrap of paper, I didn't pay much attention to it." Then again, perhaps his distrust was perfectly reasonable. And perhaps his theory was not.
They spent the better part of the day in the Mansion, searching every room and opening every door they came across. Out of an abundance of caution, he'd even had Regina show him the secret room she'd described. A library, it seemed; wall to wall books as far as the eye could see, each touched with magic. This was what he'd felt behind the wall the night of his wedding, when he'd explored. But when he picked one up, eager to see what was in it, he found it blank. And the next and the next and the next. Books for future Authors. Not good for their purposes here today, but still…
When Regina shifted her attention for the slightest moment, he cast one of the books away, back to the cabin. Not only could exploring it come in handy later, but having one on hand for when they found the Author seemed to be a smart idea.
Between the three of them, he figured that they had gone over the place at least twice. There were many doors, all of which were made of wood, and a few that even had special, ornately carved frames, some of which he could sense something magical about. But no gold.
Not surprising...the old wretch was always so simplistic in his choice of homes, Nimue sneered like a proper scorned lover. He ignored her and pressed on without acknowledging her.
In addition, each and every door that they pressed on opened without hindrance or difficulty, and somewhere around the twelfth door, it dawned on him that it was too easy. If the Apprentice had locked someone away up here, he'd have made it a lot harder to free them than simply someone, anyone, even a teenager like Henry or a bookworm like Belle here to explore, opening a door. There had to be more to it. Something they were missing, something August had conveniently left out, or else something that he didn't know. He hadn't known about Merlin, but it had registered as true because his mind wanted to believe it. Perhaps he had told them only what he thought he knew as truth. Maybe there was something more in his head. Maybe he needed to search the Fairy Vaults after all. At the moment, if he had to choose a second place to explore for this doorway, it would be that convent. Knowing those fairies and the relationship Blue had with the Apprentice, it would come as no shock to him if they were housing a very special guest for him.
When the sky finally turned dark, they gave up. They'd plundered the Mansion to the best of their abilities, but found no door. Either the Author wasn't there, or else the door was too well hidden, and they needed more information to reveal it. Either way, he had them walking back out to the edge of the property so that he could place his own detection spell on it. Seeing as how no one else had thought to do that, he wasn't exactly anticipating someone else showing up, but on the off chance they did, it seemed such a silly little thing he might as well do it.
"Well, that was a royal waste of time," Regina growled angrily, breaking the silence between the three of them but certainly not their stride. He had told them, for obvious reasons, to be aware as they walked through the yard, that the Apprentice or the Sorcerer could have had something hidden in plain view, and they should be alert for magical signatures, but as they neared the end of the property, even he knew that wasn't the case. There was nothing here. They'd wasted the day doing nothing, and with a tone that matched his own frustration, he was able to believe that Regina truly had been invested in the hunt. The question, of course, would always be "why".
Still, he was the ringleader in this. He supposed it was his job to be positive. That wasn't often a tone he'd taken in his life, but if Regina was in need of some encouragement, then Maleficent probably would be too, lest she lose faith in him and wander away just before he needed her.
"The door may not be in the sorcerer's mansion, but it's somewhere in Storybrooke. We will find it," he assured the women. That was good enough.
Just then, from just around the bend, there was the sound of an engine's roar, a very specific engine he wouldn't forget in a million years. He didn't even need the wild swerving lights he saw coming out of the dark to tell him who was in that car. But Cruella and the car being all the way up here...that was wrong. Cruella was supposed to be back at the house watching the prisoner. What the fuck was going on?!
Cruella squealed to a sudden stop, just before she would have inevitably run them over, and got out of the car. She made her best attempt at running to them all the while he fought off the lights of the car to check the interior for what he hoped with be August Booth. But it was clear with one glance that it was Cruella and Cruella alone. His stomach knotted, and he felt more than one Dark One swallow nervously with the same assumption. The bitch had finally done it; she'd lost control and killed someone important.
"What are you doing here? Where's August?"
"They rescued him…the heroes," she answered breathlessly.
Fear melted away into anger at her confession. Fuck, that was just as bad.
"You had one simple task!"
"It wasn't my fault!" she exclaimed. "We have a mole…."
A mole…someone working for the other side…he knew it.
"Who would be foolish enough to cross us?" Maleficent questioned immediately, making him almost suspicious of her. He didn't like how she said that word "us"; it was too reminiscent of what he'd been trying to do since he arrived. And besides, while Regina was the easy answer, he could sense that Maleficent was getting tired of playing second fiddle. She wanted her daughter back. He figured he didn't have long before she broke free to go off and find her on her own, as he planned, but if she did it too early, or if she could find a way to ruin his plans and therefore free up her friends to assist her with her own….
It could be either of them. Regina for her weak heart and association with the ones they were working against. Or Maleficent for her desperation.
"I know exactly who…" Cruella growled, Regina danced and sidestepped nervously, drawing his suspicion back to her. "Ursula!"
That was not the answer that he expected as she looked toward Regina.
"She sold us out for a reunion with daddy dearest."
Ursula. The one who had been feeding information to heroes, who had told them where August was and that it was safer to come get him, was Ursula? His first thought was that it seemed ridiculous, but then…the simplest answer was often the most likely. Ursula was the only one not here at the moment. She'd gone missing while he'd been out, and though Maleficent had seemed like she knew why, no explanation had really been given for her sudden absence. She hadn't taken well to the torture of August, often retreating outside; she'd been distant the last few days. His first ally, would she really have thrown it all away for an opportunity to reunite with Triton? For the sea?
Of course she would. The way she'd looked up at the fish in the aquarium, the way she'd brought the sea to her in her apartment, how she'd asked about her father and happy endings…she'd figured out a way to get hers without waiting for the Author. Of course, she would have done that. The simplest explanation was so often the correct explanation.
"All right…" Now they needed to pivot, evaluate, and figure out how to move on. "We may have lost our informant, but we still have his information." He was doing the math in his head, figuring on the distractions he had planned. He might need to move the timetable up on one of them. Now that they had August and were bound to come away with all kinds of information, they were more likely to start locking other pieces of information down. This meant he now needed to do the one thing he didn't want to do.
It was time to involve Henry.
As gently and safely as possible, which obviously didn't involve Cruella. She was the most vicious; he didn't want her to know any more about his grandson than necessary.
He turned to Regina. "Bring us the illustration of the door. Maybe there's something in it the puppet missed." The fact that Regina nodded and disappeared without question gave him the thought that she was just as afraid of Cruella getting near Henry as he was. Hopefully, she understood that the beauty of her going on her own was that he could personally babysit Cruella while Regina was out. He wasn't willing to play games with Henry's safety. As for Maleficent…if he was going to move the timetable up, then he needed her nearby. There was a lot that they needed to do. If Ursula really has let the cat out of the bag, then there will be no more hiding behind what Maleficent might be in Storybrooke to do. They'd know that they were looking for the Author and maybe even know that happy endings were their end goal. They no longer had time to doddle; they needed to move and act. Quickly.