“Of course.” Nico nodded, seemingly untroubled by the space she’d added between them. “Do you feelbetter?”
“Not really,” Jo sighed, because why bother lying? “I get that I put myself in this position, so I take responsibility for it, but I think it’s gonna take some serious getting used to.” She had magic, though. That was something she could see herself eventuallywantingto get used to, when she wasn’t sotired.
“It will begin to feel more commonplace in time, do not doubt that,” the man with the long black hair interjected, approaching her with a fluidity to his step that seemed almost dance-like, graceful in a way simply walking shouldn’t be. Once he was close enough, he held out a hand. The dark green of his fingernails was prominent even against his dark skin, though not nearly as unexpected as the slightly pointed shape to his ears that she hadn’t made out from a distance. Jo tried to bite back her surprise, grabbing his hand in a firmhandshake.
“My name is Eslar Greentouch,” he said, releasing her hand. His voice was sweet and song-like, pleasant to listen to, if not almost familiar. “And yes, to get it out of the way, I come from a time when elves” —he paused, something indescribable passing across his face— “stillexisted.”
The cogs turned much slower than she would have liked, but eventually the underlying meaning clicked into place. “A wish?” Jo asked, seeking a connection to what Snow had mentioned about a long-ago Age of Magic. But being confronted with evidence of a time so different from her own—a time where even elves existed—wassurreal.
Eslar nodded, face guarded. Despite the multitude of questions jostling for space in her already crowded mind, Jo didn’t probe further. She didn’t really want people asking her yet about Yuusuke and would extend the same courtesy about theirwishes.
“Looks like you and Takako have already gotten acquainted,” Wayne chimed in. Jo glanced over her shoulder to where Takako had been standing, but at some point, despite being right behind her, she’d walked over to one of the couches without Jonoticing.
“Which means you’ve met everyone but Samson.” Nico gestured back to where the orange-haired man still stood, all but staring holes into his shoes. Samson’s hands continued to fidget, though now the unknown item that bore the brunt of his tinkering seemed impossiblybigger.
“Samson, say hello,” Nicoencouraged.
“Hello,” he said, barely giving her aglance.
“Samson’s our craftsman, and a fine one at that,” Nico continued, as though Samson’s mannerisms were expected. “And then there’s Pan. She’s. . . rarely around, but you’ll meet hereventually.”
“Hey, Samson,” Jo called over, if only just to show she’d been actively listening. Samson startled a bit at being addressed. He raised a hand in a quick wave but nothing more, so she turned her attention back to Nico, not wanting the guy to literally melt from the discomfort that seemed to be heating to a boil on his face. “What did you mean ‘craftsman’?”
“Everyone’s gotta have a job, doll.” Wayne sauntered over. To her immense satisfaction, Jo wasn’t the only one to roll her eyes at him in response. Takako seemed to have perfected theart.
“So, what’s my job, then?” Jo asked, frowning. “All I’m good at is hacking, and if I can’t interact with anything in the real world anymore, how am I supposed to do that?” The group exchanged a look; the feeling that she was missing something prickled beneath Jo’sskin.
“I’m more than certain you are good at something far greater than that,” Eslar jumped in, thwarting her self-doubt deftly. “And given time, you will be able to interact and use your magic, full-force.”
“Time,” Jo repeated, deadpan. “Like what? I need topractice?”
“No, no.” Nico shook his head, smiling like a teacher would for a kid too impatient to listen and learn. “Well, yes, you should practice at some point. But our friend meantphysicaltime.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out an over-sized, silver pocket watch, unlike anything Jo had ever seen. When he pressed the top, it popped open to reveal three simple clock faces, one with only a second hand, one seeming to tell the current time, and one perpetually frozen at what appeared to be 1:17.
As Jo looked around, she saw everyone pull out their various timepieces in example. Eslar’s was another pocket watch, this one made of wood and etched with designs and markings that were unfamiliar to her. Samson’s was made of some sort of crystal, it looked like, the watch face embedded in a leather bracer he wore on his rightforearm.
“When we’re given a wish that requires legwork, we’re also given time.” Wayne picked up the explanation, holding out his wrist and showing off his own watch with all the determination of a man compensating for something. It was shiny and expensive-looking, probably a Rolex. Jo put her bet on a knock-off. “That time lets us interact with people and things in the realworld.”
Despite herself, Jo perked up at that. Interacting with the real world, the Door. . . it could add up to a way out. “Do I getone?”
“You should have woken up with one,” Eslar said, and Jo’s heartfell.
She hadn’t woken up withanything.
“Yours is probably like mine,” Takako chimed in, and when Jo looked over in her direction, she was holding up a rather dated-looking “smart” phone. Involuntarily, Jo looked down at her wrist, the strip of circuit-embedded fabric peeking out from beneath the sleeve of her hoodie. She pushed the cuff up to her elbow and, as she did every day, ran a finger along the material, watching it light up with the time. Only instead of the whole display coming to life, flush against her skin, it stayed frozen on the lock screen, the time passing insolidarity.
“Yeah,” Takako chuckled quietly. “Mine won’t unlockeither.”
Jo lowered her sleeve back down. “So how does itwork?”
“When you’re out in the field, you activate it,” Takako said, as though the fact should’ve beenobvious.
“It means little until you have time,” Eslarinterjected.
Jo looked back at her watch. Zeros stared back at her where the stopwatch would usually be running. She shook her head, feeling exhausted all over again. Just when there had been hope, she wasthwarted.
“And I get time when a wish comes in?” There was a consensus of nods. “When does thathappen?”
“No one knows when,” Eslar continued. “And even when you have time, it’s not to besquandered.”
