Agatha Harkness's Arc

Chapter 10 of 21

Agatha climbed out of the sea with her name still trapped below. Ursula would not trade it back, and a locked hall of jars would not open for a witch alone. She needed someone who could slip between locked places. She had heard of only one such creature: a fae who walked through dreams and doors that no one else could find. So Agatha went looking for the rabbit hole where the wanderer kept herself. The hole sat in a hollow of the forest, breathing. Its rim was rough fur and root, ringed with turning bands of pink and green light. The dark middle pulled at her like a held breath. Agatha lifted her candelabra and stepped to the edge. The little royal figure on the silver arch caught the strange glow. "You'll drop it if you go in," said a voice. A small blonde woman sat on the rim, feet swinging over the dark. She wore a blue dress and a white apron, neat as a child dressed for church. She did not look at Agatha. She stared into the hole as if reading something written there. "You're the one who walks between worlds," Agatha said. "Alice." "Alicia." She kept watching the dark. "I'm busy. A dream found me. It doesn't belong to anyone yet." Agatha crouched beside her. Charm dripped from her voice like honey. "I have a small problem, dear. A sea witch holds my name in a jar. Her hall has a thousand doors and every one is locked. But you don't need doors, do you? You slip past them. Bring me my name and I'll pay whatever you like." Alicia turned then. Her blue eyes were flat and steady. "No." Agatha smiled wider, the way she smiled before three courts burned. "You haven't heard my price." "I heard your voice." Alicia tilted her head. "You want a thief who takes nothing for herself. That isn't me. I carry memories. Not stolen ones." She looked back into the hole. "And Ursula's jars scream when they're moved. I've heard them. I won't walk into a hall of screaming." The honey went out of Agatha's tone. "Then what use are you?" "None to you." Alicia pointed one small finger down into the dark. "But that hole leads everywhere. Even under the sea. Even behind Ursula's shelves." She swung her feet. "You don't need me to carry your name. You need a door. There's one. I just won't hold your hand through it." Agatha stared into the turning light. Her charm had failed. No servant would fetch her name for her. But the fae had given her something better than help. She stood, gripping her candelabra tight. The way was open. She would have to walk it herself, straight into the goddess's hall, and take her name from the shelf with her own hands.