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Continuing to ignore us, she sits in her rocking chair and begins sewing.

I can’t tell if she’s mending socks or making a bondage mask.

With Fitz, it could go either way. After Piper and I stand there uncertainly, like the two idiots she proclaimed us to be, Fitz looks up at us with exasperation.

“Why are you standing and staring at me? Sit down.”

I don’t know how someone can sound so annoyed without moving a facial muscle.

Piper and I take a seat on the couch across from Fitz.

I rub my hand over the fabric–is this also velour?

The fire is throwing off a good amount of heat and it’s very cozy.

Fitz holds up her sewing project to inspect her work.

It’s in the shape of a little person. She grunts in satisfaction and then starts stuffing the fabric of her little doll with–I lean and squint—is that hair?

“Did you come here to watch me work, or do you have something you want to talk about?” Fitz raises her eyes from her project and studies Piper. She sniffs a few times and then hums under her breath. “So you haven’t gotten rid of your geas yet. I’m surprised.”

I sniff, my brow furrowing in confusion. How the hell can Fitz smell a geas? Piper smells like springtime flowers, and it makes my mouth water, but she always smells that way.

“That’s actually why I’m here today,” Piper says, her voice cracking nervously.

“Well, go on. I know about the geas, so the only thing stopping you from talking about it is you.” Fitz stares until Piper clears her throat and looks at me pleadingly. I give her an encouraging nod.

“I have a hex that I’m trying to figure out how to break.”

“I can’t break the Briar Witch’s curses.” Fitz goes back to stuffing her doll full of hair. Whoever it belongs to, it’s a mixture of blond and red. I look between me and Piper. It’s not my color blond and it’s not Piper’s color red. I sag a little in relief.

“That’s not the hex I’m talking about.” Piper clears her throat again. I press my thigh into hers. I don’t want to know what kind of side-eye Fitz would give me if I held Piper’s hand, but I want to offer some comfort. “My father put an obedience spell on me when I was little.”

Fitz doesn’t bat an eye, continuing her doll stuffing. “Your father was an idiot. A different kind of idiot. Not like you two idiots.”

I wobble my head from side to side, uncertain if that is a compliment or not. I’m going to go with…yes, it is.

“An incompetent man who couldn’t figure out how to wipe his own arse without someone there to do it for him. And your uncle. He’s worse.”

I nod in agreement. My family isn’t much better. I’m fully aware that the Roths are also full of pieces of shit. I’d like to believe I’m not as terrible as the rest of them, but they're all oblivious, so maybe I am too.

Fitz stares at Piper and me. I wonder what she’s looking for. The silence stretches and then finally Fitz huffs out something close to a laugh.

“You got married.” A grin stretches across her face, and then she starts to really laugh. It’s loud and full-bodied. She even sets down her fucked-up doll.

“You figured out a workaround on your hex and it was passed on. Good for you.” Her head jerks over to me, her laughter cutting off abruptly. “And now you own her hex.”

“I don’t own anything.” I unclench my jaw.

Technically, I know this is true, from Piper’s own mouth, but I don’t want to control her in any way.

“However, we would like to figure out how to undo this spell so that Piper never has to worry about it again. And I won’t accidentally command her to do something. ”

Fitz purses her lips together and picks her doll back up. “It’s not a problem.”

“Why isn’t it a problem?” I’m confused. Piper is stiff beside me. I drop my hand on her thigh and squeeze. We’ll figure this out.

Fitz eyes my hand and snorts. “Are you going to use it on her?” She points the hair doll at me.

“That’s not the point.” I rear back. “I shouldn't have that kind of control, regardless.”

Fitz sighs, dropping her doll into a basket near her feet and standing with a groan. She picks up two copper cups near her stove and proceeds to scoop a ladleful of the stuff from the cauldron into them.

“Drink this.” She pushes the cups into both of our faces. I grab it just so it doesn’t spill all over my lap and scald me.

“Will this clear up the spell?” Piper watches Fitz as she wanders around her living room. She straightens the trinkets as she moves. They’re probably enchantments and spells that turn people into a toad or melt their dicks off.

“No, you idiot. It’s soup. You both look unhealthy.

” Fitz turns her gaze back to Piper. I wonder if she knows what her true curse is.

The one from the Briar Witch. We tend to keep that information on a need-to-know basis only, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Fitz knew everyone’s secrets in this town.

“I’m not really hungry.” I frown into the cup. It doesn’t smell bad, but what if there are lizard hearts and eyeballs in here?

“Eat it.” Fitz points a gnarled finger at me, and I obey.

Warmth spreads out from my stomach into my chest, down my arms and legs until my whole body is suffused with a sense of wellbeing. I feel stronger too, more alert.

“This is great.” I take another sip.

“Of course it is. I made it.” Fitz states as if there was never any doubt. She leans against a bookshelf and stares at the two of us. “Give yourself some time. Test it out if you’d like every now and again, but I believe your geas will fade. Especially if he doesn’t want it.”

“I don’t,” I protest, in case that wasn’t abundantly clear.

Fitz nods to herself, gives us her back, and pulls a book off the shelf. She shuffles back over to her chair and starts reading it.

“What about the hex?” I press when Piper’s face falls.

“You’ll figure it out.” Fitz licks the tip of her finger and flips the page in her book. I want to rip it out of her hand and demand she give us more information. What the fuck kind of answer is that?

“Why the feck are you still here?” Fitz doesn’t even look up from her book. Piper and I hop up off the couch. I take her cup and flounder around, wondering where to put them before finally setting them on a small table with a lamp on them.

“Thank you, Fitz,” Piper says. She’s being polite, but I hear the frustration in her words.

Fitz grunts and flaps her hand in a shooing motion.

We leave Fitz’s house in silence.