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Agatha ground her teeth as she stalked away from the other witches resisting the urge to scream again.
She should have been more specific in her summoning, should have prefaced the spell with the information that any other Green Witch was fine just not Rio Vidal.
Agatha kicked stubbornly at the leaves around her feet.
She doubted whether changing the spell would’ve done them any good anyway, no doubt Rio had heard the call and couldn’t resist the possibility of torturing Agatha further. She had spent two careful centuries escaping Rio’s attention but without the Darkhold to shield her anymore she was helpless, it was a wonder it had taken 3 years for the witch to catch up with her.
Rio might be fate bound not to kill Agatha, but there was no doubt the witch would take advantage of any opportunity to punish her some more. Maybe she’d slow them down just in time for the Salem Seven to finish Agatha off.
Agatha tugged her coat tighter and brushed over the locket at her throat, making sure it was still there. Her hands trembled slightly and her stomach dropped like she had fallen out of the air as the image of the white crib flashed in her mind’s eye again. The sight of the damned book swaddled where something far more important should’ve been drove her crazy, she hated how it still drew her in, that she still longed for its power even after everything.
Would that happen with each trial? Was the Road getting revenge on her, bitter that Agatha had seen fit to walk it a second time. Maybe it knew her plan for the end and was reminding her of the cost last time.
Agatha was vaguely aware of the witches behind her keeping their distance. She was glad her stomping had sent a clear enough message. The last thing she wanted right now was to try and explain Rio and who they were to each other.
Agatha circled a tree off to the side of the Road and tucked herself behind it, hiding from the scrutiny of the other witches. She leant herself against the comforting steadiness of the trunk and tilted her head back with a light thunk.
The air stirred next to her and Agatha’s jaw twitched with frustration. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know that Rio had joined her behind the tree. The musty scent of earth and leaves became richer, the woodsy scent undercut by something floral and light, jasmine maybe.
“It’s nice to see you again so soon,” Rio said quietly.
“Third times the charm.” Agatha reluctantly opened her eyes and gave Rio the briefest of tight smiles.
Agatha cast an eye over her shoulder and was relieved to see the other witches had paid them no notice and had gathered further up the road. Jen had a hand on Alice’s shoulder and appeared to be consoling her. No doubt they were morning the sudden loss of Mrs Hart. Agatha didn’t have the time for that, she needed to focus her attention on dealing with the problems her death had caused them. The problem of Death specifically.
“Do you count Westview in that?” Rio asked, folding her arms and stepping up to Agatha until she was one step closer than was comfortable. “Technically none of it was real. All up in here,” Rio leant in and reached to tap Agatha’s temple, she swatted Rio’s hand away and tried to hate the smile that the other witch gave her in response.
“What are you doing here?” Agatha snapped rubbing at the bridge of her nose. A dull headache had started behind her eyes, she doubted that Rio had abided by Alice’s wish and brought any Advil with her. Looking at her Agatha wasn’t even sure where the other witch would hide anything, her impractical leather didn’t leave much to hide.
“I told you,” Rio said snarkily, and dramatically flung herself against the tree behind Agatha, “I was in the neighbourhood.” She winked and Agatha openly rolled her eyes, ignoring the way her heart stuttered.
“You didn’t have to answer the call, you could’ve ignored us.”
“But you asked so nicely.”
Agatha twisted to face Rio head on, meeting her gaze as firmly as she could. Rio started at the sudden closeness, their noses were almost touching.
“Just tell me what you want,” Agatha hissed.
“The usual, your death, your soul,” Rio whispered the last word, her breath tickling Agatha’s cheek.
They stood nose to nose for a moment and Agatha tried to ignore the phantom pull between them. When was the last time she had felt that for someone? Agatha had had her fair share of flings throughout the centuries. They were usually short, messy, unfulfilling but fun and something to pass the unending time of her once immortal life. None of them had ever compared to Rio in intensity. It was hard, Agatha supposed, to live up to Death’s passion.
She shook her head slightly as her mind began to stray too close to memories she had spent half her life tucking out of sight. She pushed herself off the tree and stalked a safer distance from Rio.
“Come on,” Rio laughed lightly, following her, “why are you so certain I’m here to cause mischief.”
Agatha spun around and gave her a withering look.
Rio reeled backwards in false shock, a hand flying to her chest in defence. “I swear on the mother, maiden and crone, that I’m just here to walk the Road with you, nothing more.”
Agatha raised an eyebrow. She thought of the tales warning humans who crossed paths with Faeries to be wary of how they spoke and the lies they weaved. Agatha had always thought that Rio was the start of those rumours, or had at least taught the Faeries how to twist their words.
Agatha had once prided herself on being able to interpret Rio, but lately she was wondering if it had been long enough she’d forgotten or if Rio had just gotten better at hiding things.
“I helped you out in Westview.”
“I think Teen was the one who broke the spell in the end,” Agatha muttered.
“That amateur?” Rio said in such a way that made Agatha frown and feel like she was missing something.
Rio laughed with something close to frustration. “It would’ve taken you a few more weeks to figure things out if I hadn’t been there. I’m pretty sure my being there was enough to shock you out of it.”
Agatha stopped and stared at her, and in response Rio flung her arms out and bowed dramatically. “You’re welcome.” She tilted her head, gazing up at Agatha, her eyes smoky with the shadows of the woods that surrounded them.
“Do I need to remind you that you followed that help up with a murder attempt?”
“But I didn’t succeed, did I?”
Rio reached out and caught Agatha’s hand and flipped it over to reveal her palm, unmarred by the knife Agatha had grasped not two days ago. The pain was still fresh in her mind. As was the memory of Rio healing her, the way her mind had gone blank and the feeling of Rio’s magic working, making her neck prickle with want.
“Is there anywhere else I hurt you?” Rio murmured, threading her fingers with Agatha’s and pulling herself closer. She was taller, marginally, and it meant Agatha was caught looking into her eyes. The dark brown was cold in the dreary light of the woods around them, but there was a warmth to her expression that Agatha had liked to tell herself that only she could see.
“Not physically,” Agatha ground out and tugged her hand out of Rio’s grip. She refused to feel bad when the other witch’s smile vanished. She held Rio’s gaze and refused to break first. She wished she felt any kind of victory when Rio finally turned away from her, arms crossed tightly.
“For all I know this could be another illusion.” Agatha regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.
“Does it feel like you’re still trapped inside the Hex.” Rio’s voice was soft, her humour gone.
“No.” But then the Agatha that had been stuck in Westview hadn’t known that either. “But nothing on the Road is real.” Agatha whispered, knowing before she spoke that Rio would recognise the real fear in her voice. That after all these years she still knew Agatha best.
“Some things are real here,” Rio said softly.
“Like what?” Agatha said waving around them, from the overly bright colours of leaves that had fallen from trees that were dry husks incapable of growing anything, to the lanterns that decorated the roots. Nothing was real here, that was part of the challenge. How to walk the road when you weren’t even sure if the ground beneath your feet was solid.
“You’re real,” Rio whispered and Agatha tried to ignore the pull at her naval that beckoned her closer to the other witch. “I’m real.”
Agatha held her breath as Rio reached out a cautious hand and wrapped her finger around a lock of Agatha’s hair. She delicately teased out a twig that must’ve gotten caught when the last trial had spat them out.
“This is real.” Agatha wished she could be as confident as Rio sounded.
“I saw things in the first trial,” Agatha whispered, jerking her head sharply to the Road behind them, “things that definitely didn’t feel real. That can’t have been real.”
Rio took both of Agatha’s hands softly and raised them to her face, pressing Agatha’s palms to her warm cheeks. She shouldn’t have felt so warm, all logic pointed towards Rio being cold.
“Does this feel real?” She said it with such sincerity that Agatha couldn’t help but nod in agreement.
“And this?”
Agatha’s breath hitched as Rio leant in, her eyes intent on Agatha’s lips. Agatha’s eyes fluttered closed and she pulled Rio closer, cradling her face and breathing her in. She hovered, her nose brushing Rio’s, willing herself to resist the familiar pull between them. In the end she wasn’t sure which of them gave in, her mind went blank save for the soft, warmth of Rio’s mouth. Rio’s arms slid under Agatha’s coat and encircled her waist pulling her ever closer. The kiss of death had never felt so sweet.
Agatha let the kiss last for too long as it threatened to pull her under, for all reason to abandon her. With the last of her will she pulled back and scrunched her eyes shut. She tried to focus on the worst parts of their past, to feel the pain like a bucket of icy water over her head. Agatha had only been wrong about Rio once and that one time had been enough.
Rio lightly pulled Agatha’s hands away from her face.
“Next time you find yourself doubting reality just think about how much you hate me,” Rio smiled as she spoke but something threatened to pull the corners of her mouth downwards. Agatha’s hands fell empty to hang uselessly at her sides.
“I don’t hate you,” she swallowed tightly, “I’ve never hated you.”
Agatha was relieved when Rio’s flirtatious smirk returned, and she stepped slowly out of reach. “We promised not to lie to each other, sweetheart.”
A breeze ruffled Agatha’s hair and she breathed the air in gratefully, needing the chill of it to clear her mind.
“Next time you’re not sure if something’s real just ask,” Rio called over her shoulder, “I won’t lie.”
Against all odds, Agatha found herself believing it.
With a final, tantalising wave of her fingers, Rio took off skipping down the road to the other witches. They scattered away from her when she got too close and let loose a startling cackle. Agatha fought a smile and began to follow her coven along the Road once more.