Agatha Harkness's Arc

Chapter 4 of 21

The forest had swallowed three nights. Agatha followed the pixie glow through wet trees, and each night it faded before dawn. Wanda walked beside her, saying nothing, waiting for a result. Agatha's coat hung heavy with damp. She wanted her manor, her fire, her silence. Instead she chased a smear of light no wider than a moth. The trail broke apart at a clearing and left her with nothing but mud and cold. "It's gone," Agatha said. "Your Pip could be anywhere in this whole forest." Wanda crouched and touched a leaf. Pale dust clung to it. "Not gone. Frightened. Pixies flee toward warmth." She pointed through the trees. Far off, a crooked cottage leaned under vines, its windows glowing gold. Books cluttered every sill. A tea cart sat abandoned by the door, its cups still full. "That place. Someone keeps it warm." They crossed to the cottage. Agatha pushed the door. Inside, the eccentric owner was gone, but the hearth still burned. On the highest shelf, wedged behind a stack of teacups, a small light trembled. Agatha climbed the cluttered ladder. A pixie in a frilled tea-shop dress pressed herself into the corner. Her wings shivered. She would not come. "Pip," Wanda called from below. Her voice cracked. The pixie's head turned, but she did not move. Agatha knew fear. Fear did not answer names. It answered lures. She did not chase. She reached to the tea cart, poured a thimble of honey, and set it on the shelf. Then she sat back and waited, the way she'd once waited for three courts to move on their own. The pixie crept forward. She dipped her hands in the honey. Agatha closed her fingers, slow and gentle, and lifted her down. Wanda took the pixie into her cupped palms. Pip clung to her thumb and would not let go. For a moment Wanda's flat green eyes went soft, and she pressed her lips together hard. "You found her," Wanda said. "I found her." Agatha brushed honey from her fingers. "Now the price. Tell me how to handle Peter." Wanda held Pip against her chest. "A fae king's debt binds you until it's paid. You can't outrun him. But you can name the terms first, before he does." She looked up. "Offer the payment yourself. Choose something small. If he sets the price, it will be your future. Kings always take the future." Agatha went still. "Offer first." "Offer first," Wanda said. "And offer it where you're strong. Not at your door. Somewhere the ground is yours." Outside, dawn crept through the vines. Agatha had her counsel at last. But the advice was worse than silence. To stay in her manor, she would have to summon the king herself, and hand him a piece of her own choosing. The hunt was over. The bargain with Peter had only just begun.