The cabin was, against every expectation Xavier had built up on the walk over, almost aggressively cozy. Warm golden light spilled from every window, smoke curled lazily from a stone chimney, and a neat little garden of black roses lined the front path like something out of a storybook that had taken a slightly wrong turn.
Bruce eyed it warily. "This does not look like where a demon lives."
"That's usually the point," Xavier said.
He turned to his friends before approaching the door. "Stay here. Both of you."
"Absolutely not," Stephan said immediately.
"The mayor went in alone. Everyone who's ever bargained with this thing went in alone. I don't think that's a coincidence, and I really don't want to find out what happens if we break that pattern by accident." Xavier managed something that he hoped looked like a reassuring smile, and probably didn't. "I'll be fine. Probably."
Bruce looked like he wanted to argue and, after a long moment, simply didn't. "...If you're not out in an hour..."
"Come in guns blazing, very dramatic, I know. I'm hoping it won't come to that."
He knocked before either of them could stop him a second time.
The door opened on its own. Xavier stepped inside, the door then shutting itself this time.
The cabin was even warmer than it looked, filled with the smell of fresh bread and something sweeter underneath it that Xavier decided, immediately, not to think too hard about. A tall figure stood by the fireplace, adjusting a black top hat in a mirror that Xavier was fairly certain hadn't been reflecting anything a moment ago.
"A visitor!" The figure turned, delighted, revealing a face that was almost handsome in an unsettling, too-symmetrical way, eyes the color of dying embers beneath the brim of the hat. "It's been ages since anyone's had the nerve. Please, come in, sit, make yourself comfortable. Would you like a shower first? You've had quite the walk."
"...A shower?" Xavier repeated.
"Wonderfully hot. Best water pressure in three kingdoms, if I do say so myself." Emory beamed, gesturing toward a door that had, Xavier was fairly sure, not existed a moment ago either. "Or cookies, perhaps? Fresh batch."
He produced a plate seemingly from nowhere, offering it forward. The cookies looked perfectly ordinary and smelled incredible, except for the small, unmistakable detail that each one was studded with what looked remarkably, unmistakably like tiny candied eyes, blinking with slow, lazy contentment.
"I'm going to pass..." Xavier said, with as much politeness as he could manage.
"Well, suit yourself. More for me." Emory popped one into his mouth, crunching with evident satisfaction, and gestured for Xavier to sit across from him at a small table that had also, Xavier was now certain, not existed a moment ago. "So, what brings you here today, young man?"
"Larkspur Hollow," Xavier said, carefully, keeping his voice as level as he could manage. "I want to talk about the contract you made with its mayor."
"Ah, that little town of misery. Well, not anymore." Emory folded his hands, delighted, leaning forward with the eager attention of a man who genuinely, sincerely loved his work. "Do go on."
"You gave that town happiness. Permanent, absolute happiness, exactly as asked. I'm not here to argue you didn't hold up your end. I've been told you always do. To the letter." Xavier chose each word carefully, remembering the mayor's warning. "I want to propose an amendment. Adjust the terms. Let the town keep something closer to ordinary contentment instead. It also entails giving Mayor Wells his daughter back. I'll make it worth your while."
Something sharpened behind Emory's eyes, delight sliding into genuine interest. "An amendment. How refreshing. Most people just beg." He steepled his fingers. "And what, precisely, do you propose to offer a being who can conjure anything he likes?"
And there it was. The part Xavier had not, in fact, worked out. He'd spent the entire walk through the fog rehearsing how to word a request without accidentally signing away his own soul, and somehow never gotten as far as figuring out what he'd actually be trading for it. He kept his face as level as he could manage anyway.
"Gold?" he tried. "We've got-"
"Oh, sweet boy." Emory's laugh was warm and entirely without malice, which somehow made it worse. "I conjured this table out of nothing forty seconds before you sat at it. What could your gold possibly interest me in?"
"A favor, then. Something to be named later."
"An open favor. From a stranger. How refreshingly reckless." Emory tilted his head, delighted in the way a cat is delighted by something it hasn't decided whether to eat yet. "I'd take that in a heartbeat, you understand. I'd be a fool not to. But I rather think Corbin's warnings were meant to stop exactly this sort of offer, and I find I'm oddly fond of watching people learn from good advice instead of ignoring it. Try again."
"Information, then. About the world outside this forest, about-"
"I've had three hundred years to gather information, little mage, and considerably better sources than a teenager with an amnesia problem and four elements he barely understands," Emory said it without cruelty, almost gently, which was somehow the most unsettling delivery yet. "You're floundering. I don't say that unkindly. It's rather sweet, actually, watching you improvise a negotiation you clearly didn't plan past the doorway... But floundering doesn't get little girls turned back from rats."
Xavier's jaw tightened. "Then tell me what you want."
"That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?" Emory stood, unhurried, brushing a crumb from his coat with two fingers. "I'll tell you what I'll do instead, because I do like you, and because it's been a very long time since anyone's made me laugh this early in a negotiation. Go home. Sleep on it. Dig through whatever you're carrying until you find something that actually means something. To you, or to someone else, I'm not particular. Then come back and show it to me. Or don't, and let Corbin keep talking to a rat through his study wall. Entirely your choice."
The cabin door swung open on its own again, letting in a gust of cool, fog-damp air.
"That's it?" Xavier said. "You're just... Sending me home?"
"I'm giving you a night to stop panicking and start thinking. Consider it a courtesy. I don't extend many." Emory's grin didn't waver, but something behind the ember-colored eyes had gone very slightly more serious. "Come back tomorrow, little mage. I'll be here. I'm always here."