Agatha Harkness's Arc

Chapter 15 of 21

The carriage returned three nights later. Agatha heard the wheels before she saw them. She stood in her altar room, one hand near the frost mirror. Peter's reflection slid back through the dark window, up the wall, into the glass. He sat again with his cake and key. But the summons still hummed under the seal. Nothing had changed. She could not tell if the deal held. That was the trap. If she broke the mirror now and the voice was gone, Peter went home and she was free. If she broke it and the voice remained, the summons stayed loose. Ursula would keep her double payment. Peter would be freed for nothing, and the mirror would call something worse. She could not test it halfway. She had to guess. She pressed her palm to the glass. "Well?" Peter shrugged. "She listened. She took her price from me. That's all you asked." His answer told her nothing. A fae king lied by leaving out the truth. She needed proof before she gambled everything on his word. So she went to someone who read the hidden shape of things. Briar Rose slept beneath a castle older than kingdoms. She pulled sleepers into her dream. Agatha had never trusted her, but Briar Rose could see what a person carried inside. She lay in her thorns, eyes shut, staff of roses across her lap. "You want to know if the sea witch kept her word," Briar Rose said. She did not open her eyes. "I want to know if the voice is still in my glass." "Bring the fae king close. I'll look at what clings to him." Agatha carried the frost mirror through the forest, wrapped in cloth. Briar Rose set one finger on the glass. A black film rose off it, thick and smoking. It dripped down the frame and would not fall. Agatha had seen corruption before. This was the mark of a debt paid in something foul. "He carries her price," Briar Rose said. "Not you. The summons is cut. What hums now is only the empty seal, dying slow." "You're certain." "The voice is gone. Break the glass and the king leaves clean." She lifted her finger. "I don't lie. It wastes words." Agatha carried the mirror home. She set it on the altar and looked at Peter one last time. He put down the key and waited. She struck the frame with her fist. The glass shattered. Peter's reflection scattered with it. The hum stopped. The room went silent for the first time in a year. No summons. No debt. No sea witch's claim on her. Agatha swept the frost-glass into a jar and sat in the quiet. The mirror was dead. Peter was gone to Neverland. But the black soot Briar Rose had raised still clung to a shard on the floor, refusing to dry. Ursula had been paid in something. Agatha did not yet know what it would grow into.