❃
|Granny's, Three Weeks Later|
❃

"How are we supposed to know what the finest bird is?" Belle asked.

"I don't know. Some sort of mythical or fairytale bird would probably work..." Emma mused.

Evelyn started crying so Belle turned her attention from Regina, Emma, and Mary Margaret to her daughter. A little bit of rocking quieted the little girl.

"Anyone know of any mythical birds?" Mary Margaret asked hopefully.

"I can do some more research," Belle offered, "but I'll need somebody to watch Evelyn for me since Rumple has been busy reorganizing the shop."

"I know of one, but I don't know if it's real," Regina spoke up.

Emma laughed. "I think it's safe to say any legends or myths are real at this point. So what is it; some sort of magic turkey?"

Regina shook her head. "Legend said it had feathers of bright reds and oranges. If you found it, either you were a very lucky person or it wanted to find you. Either way, if you helped it, it would do you a favor in your time of need. It's called the Firebird, named for its bright feathers."

"How does a bird help you?" Emma asked. Only she would question the plot holes in a legend from several thousand years before she was born.

"Maybe it's only half bird," Belle suggested. "Or it can...change into a human. Like an animagus from Harry Potter."

"So we're looking for a creature that might be a bird or partial bird?" Emma clarified. Belle nodded and picked up a french fry.

"Maybe someone else knows something," Mary Margaret suggested.

Emma's eyes widened. "Neal. He met the Firebird. He told me about it after Neverland-- can we talk to him?!"

"Not without going to the Underworld, and," Mary Margaret glanced at Regina, "that might not be the best idea at the moment."

"Also, Hades could find out about Cleo," Belle added. "...But there might be another option. Merida told me about a potion that lets you speak to the dead...as long as they have a grave. So we can't contact Robin, but we can talk to Neal."

"Do we have any of this potion?" Emma asked.

"We do if we can convince Merida our cause is worthy."

❃
|Storybrooke Graveyard|
❃

Emma poured a few drops of the water-looking substance over the grass that covered where Neal was buried. She capped the container it was in and handed it back to Merida.

Emma had almost given up hope when Neal shimmered into existence across from her. "Neal," Emma breathed. A smile grew on her face. "Can I...?" She reached her arm out towards him, but Neal shook his head sadly.

"No. Hades doesn't want me here, so I couldn't get a full connection. But I was at least able to do this much."

Emma lowered her arm. "We need to know about the Firebird."

"Ah," Neal sounded a bit disappointed that they just needed him for information, but he tried to not let that bother him. "I met the Firebird while in Boston--"

"When we you in Boston?"

"Doesn't matter. I met her after she went and found you, apparently. She told me Hades was after her and that I would see you again someday, when the Fates allowed it."

"Is there some way we can find her?"

Neal shrugged. "I have no idea. I only ran into her because she was after you. She acted like she met you, though... She had pale skin and she seemed really panicky. She said she went by Cleo Fox in this realm--"

Emma gasped. "Cleo Fox?!"

Neal nodded. "Yes. Do you know her?"

"She's already in Storybrooke! She's at my house right now!"

Neal smiled. "Well look at that. Looks like the Fates worked it out after all. I can't suspend this connection for much longer, is there anything else you need?"

Emma shook her head. "I can't think of anything..."

"Then I guess this is goodbye."

"Yeah," Emma's voice got quiet, "Guess so."

"Goodbye, Emma."

"Goodbye, Neal."

The image of Neal faded away and Emma wiped a tear that had fallen. She turned back to Mary Margaret, Regina, Merida, and Belle who were all standing far enough away that they couldn't eavesdrop on the conversation. "I know where the Firebird is."

"Where?" Mary Margaret asked.

"My house. Cleo's the Firebird."

❃
|The Underworld|
❃

Neal shimmered back into existence in his cell and Hades growled. "WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!"

Neal decided that lying would probably be the best option in his situation. "Saying goodbye to an old friend."

"Did you see Regina?" Robin asked from his cell.

"Yeah. She was there. She looked fine. Henry and Meg weren't there, so I assume they were with the fairies or someone else."

"But Regina looked okay? And our child?"

"The pregnancy isn't showing yet, but it's only been what, three and a half weeks? It won't show until later, but I assure you she looked fine. And Dorothy," Neal looked through Robin's cell to where Dorothy was absentmindedly braiding her hair. When she heard her name, her head snapped up. "Yeah?"

"Belle and Evelyn were there too and they both looked fine."

Dorothy nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

"Quit gossiping about the living," Hades commanded.

In response, Neal turned to Robin. "Emma was wearing her red leather jacket when I was talking to her. I was with her when she bought it, you know."

Hades let out a loud groan of annoyance that Neal ignored.

❃
|Emma's House|
❃

Regina and Emma burst into Emma's house. Mary Margaret and Belle had children that needed naps, but Regina was safe from that for the moment, so she had headed back with Emma to get a feather from Cleo. "Where's Cleo?" Emma asked Henry when she and Regina arrived in the living room.

Henry pointed to the ceiling. "Upstairs."

Emma quickly thanked her son and she rushed up the stairs to the room where Cleo had been staying.

"Why do you guys need her?" Henry asked Regina.

"We need her to complete the potion that will return my memories. According to Neal, she's the Firebird."

"You talked to my dad?"

Regina nodded. "If we weren't in such a hurry, I would have made the others stop by here to get you, but we need to make this potion before Zelena discovers what we're doing."

"It's okay," Henry tried to sound upbeat.

"After all this blows over, I'll take you to talk to him," Regina promised. "Merida has a potion that allows you to talk to the dead. I'll convince her to lend us some more so you can talk to your dad again, okay?"

"Okay."

Cleo and Emma entered the living room and Cleo was shaking, trying to talk Emma out of making her transform into a bird.

"What's wrong?" Regina approached the two.

"I can't turn into a bird. Hades will find me," Cleo muttered. "I don't want to go back to the Underworld."

"We won't let him hurt you," Regina promised.

"But you don't want to use magic," Cleo argued. "You don't want to hurt the baby. You're too scared that something will happen and you'll turn into Cora and--" Cleo stopped herself from saying anything else. "Sorry."

"I still have magic," Emma pointed out, "and if it comes down to it, Meg does too. And I'm sure Regina will fight without magic."

Regina nodded.

"You'll be fine," Emma assured Cleo.

"O-okay..." Cleo still didn't sound like she believed Emma, but she closed her eyes in concentration. Flames engulfed Cleo and when they died down, nothing was singed. But Cleo was now a beautiful fire-colored bird. Her feathers were bright oranges and reds and yellows. When she flapped her wings, the feathers seemed to turn into flames that danced across her wings and body.

"Wow..." Henry whispered.

Emma reached up and carefully plucked a feather from the Firebird's tail. Once the feather was in Emma's hand, the Firebird transformed back into Cleo Fox.

"So all we need is one more week of moonlight?" Regina asked.

Emma nodded. "Yup. And in the meantime, we will be making sure nothing happens to Cleo."

❃
|Zelena's Cabin, the Next Day|
❃

Zelena held up a bright orange feather for Arthur to see. "Cleo panicked at Granny's today and vanished, leaving a few of these behind."

"So she really is the Firebird?"

"Seems so. We need a bit more moonlight and then we can mix everything together. The lock from the Charmings, the branch from the tree, the moonlight, and this lovely feather," Zelena twirled it in her hand before placing it next to the lock and key and branch. She then walked over to Arthur and pressed her lips against his. "Five more days."