It was almost too quick to see, like watching a hologram glitch out of existence: blink and you miss it. But as if the little bit of magic was commonplace for him—which Jo had no doubt it was—Snow merely pulled the door open without a word and ushered herinside.
“How did you get it to turn back?” Jo asked, clearing her throat a bit when she heard how hoarse and exhausted she still sounded. “When I tried before, nothinghappened.”
“Intention,” Snow answered as he closed the door behind him. “The door to return never left. You simply believed it had.” Still not looking at her, Snow headed back through the briefingroom.
Jo hovered a moment, unsure if she should follow. But she wasn’t about to try the Door again, not until she had a little more information on it. With nowhere else to go, she remained in tow behindhim.
“Next time I’m out there, what do I do? Do I just clap my hands or click my heels and believe?” Jo sniffed, latching on to the concept with her usual vigor; a sense of purpose would help, surely. Learning as much as she could about the Door was a good place to start. Perhaps the next time she went through it, she’d find a way home. Or perhaps it’d just make everything feel a little lessoverwhelming.
Again, that soft chuckle of Snow’s graced her ears, her heart fluttering a bit at the sound. “If that offers the assistance you require,” he said. “But as long as your intent is to return, the door will always be there to grant youaccess.”
Jo nodded, even if the explanation lacked some of the more logistical requirements she was familiar with. Part of her reality now came with “magic” as an explanation, and that was something the more logical side of her mental framework was simply going to have to get usedto.
About halfway back to the Four-Way, an unfamiliar woman stepped out from where she had been leaning against the wall, blocking their path. She looked to be Jo’s height, Japanese, and about as attractive as every single person Jo had met so far. She had short black hair, combed to one side, and the sort of sturdy muscularity that reminded Jo of aswimmer.
The woman turned in the direction of the Four-Way and cupped a hand around hermouth.
“Snow has her!” she called out, presumably to Wayne or Nico. There was a small flash of guilt at the thought that Nico might have gone looking for her, even going so far as to recruit other members of the Society in his search. But she’d needed to try to escape, needed to find out on her own, even if knowing was less than ideal. “Ignorance is bliss” just wasn’t how she didthings.
“Takako,” Snow said, grabbing the woman’s attention. Takako turned to face them both, locking eyes with Jo only for a moment before offering Snow her fullfocus.
“Snow,” she said, facestoic.
All of a sudden, there was a hand at the small of Jo’s back, her shoulders tensing at the abrupt contact. She glanced up at Snow in surprise, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he just gave her a slight push in Takako’s direction, his hand falling away in the samemotion.
“Accompany her back to the others?” It was formed as a question, but even Jo could tell it was more of an order. Takako nodded, seemingly used to the unequal balance of power. This time, when she locked eyes with Jo, she offered her a small, barely-there smile. It might have been worn purely for Jo’s benefit, and it didn’t last long, but Jo was grateful for itnonetheless.
When Takako turned to lead her away, Snow stepped ahead. For a second, Jo considered saying something, possibly thanking him for explaining things, or for not leaving her panicked and stranded, but in the end she decided against it. Instead, she simply watched him walk away, eyes following the steady stride, the length of his frame, until he turned the corner of the stairs to the right of the Four-Way and vanished fromsight.
It was like dealing with a ghost, watching him float in and out of her life in the same breath, haunting her memory with the sound of soft laughter and unexpected kindness only to be cut short by the edge of somethingrough.
“Jo?” Takako’s voice wrenched her back and she could feel her face heating. Takako was already a couple of steps ahead of her, staring at her with an eyebrow raised in confusion. “Are youcoming?”
“Yeah, sorry.” Jo swallowed down the embarrassment of being caught staring and hurried to catch up. The other woman didn’t seem like the conversationalist type, but Jo struck one away, not quite ready to be alone with her thoughts. “So, your name’sTakako?”
Another nod, her face remaining passive, not quite cold but definitely far fromopen.
“TakakoKanazawa.”
“Cool,” Jo said eventually, when it looked like that was all she was going to get. A thought filtered in past all of the chaos her walk with Snow had kicked up, and Jo rolled with it. “So, um. What year are you from?” Snow had mentioned everyone joining the Society at different times throughout the thousand-ish years of its existence, but as far as she’d seen, outside of Wayne, everyone she’d met so far looked to be dressed in the sort of retro-grunge, industrial, uninspired fashions of the2050s.
When Jo glanced over at Takako, her eyes looked distant. Maybe that had been an intrusive question? Before she could dwell on it for too long, however, Takako said, “I was born in1998.”
Despite expecting an unbelievable answer, Jo couldn’t help the rush of surprise. Takako appeared close to her age, maybe a little older, but technically she was old enough to be Jo’s mother. In an attempt to regain composure, Jo picked up the pace a bit, stepping pasther.
“Wow. Looking good for fifty-nine.” As she glanced over her shoulder with a smirk, she was met with a look of surprised amusement. Jo considered that a win; little victories were going to help her get throughthis.
The moment the two of them walked into the kitchen and lounge area, she was met with the sound of billiards being played and murmured conversations being had—conversations that stopped as soon as the room became aware of her presence. As Jo scanned the small gathering of people—all men save her and Takako—she caught sight of Wayne at the pool table and Nico having a conversation with someone by the stove. The other two faces wereunfamiliar.
The man playing pool with Wayne had long, black hair and unusually defined features. Even from a distance, she could see a striking green tint to his eyes, the color all but popping against his russet skin. The way he looked at her was almost calculating, like he was looking not just at her butintoher, seeing something beyond just her physical presence. It reminded Jo of the way Snow observed the world around him, but with a much more clinical, emotionlessnature.
The other man, currently leaning against the kitchen counter next to Nico, had a mess of curly hair in a color similar to burnt sienna, one side of it shaved in strips between tight braids. The shade of it seemed to brighten beneath the natural light flooding the kitchen, popping against his bark-brown skin and seemingly highlighting his sharp and almost elongated features. He too had a sort of supernatural quality. Nearly identical to her own humanness, and yet,different.
He was slouching a bit, not quite keeping eye contact with Jo for more than a few seconds at a time, choosing instead to focus more intently on whatever his hands were fiddling with. Jo quickly looked away, realizing she’d been staring. Luckily, the awkward silence of her arrival was broken relatively quickly, Nico rushing over with a relievedexclamation.
“Jo! I’m so glad Snow found you!” When he was in front of her, he reached out without preamble and took her hands in his, smiling brightly. His hands were soft, fingers stained in places with a variety of different colored inks. “When I brought some food to your room and you weren’t there, I worried we’d been too forthcoming and frightened you off. Thank you for comingback.”
It’s not like I had much of a choice, she wanted to say, but for some reason, she found it difficult to be cruel to the man. His disposition radiated warmth and kindness like its own mini-springtime. And, if Snow was to be believed, he was as much of a prisoner here as she was. So instead, she just carefully pulled her hands out of his grip, took a step back, and said, “Yeah. Sorry about that, I just. . . I needed some time. You know, toprocess.”
