“I’ve used nearly all of my magic usually reserved for the final wish-granting on this reset,” Snow went on, seemingly unaware of the panic slowly filtering into the room. “Which puts the Severity of Exchange at a much higher percentage than normal. It will require far more field work than our usual wish—”
“No shit,” Wayne all but spat, leaning heavily back into his seat.
“—but should not be impossible,” Snow finished as if he hadn’t even heard Wayne speak. Jo felt practically sick with the onslaught of fresh nerves, too many questions piling on top of each other. What would happen if they failed? How were they supposed to evacuate such a large area so quickly? What were they even going todo?
“It’s not enough time to moveeveryoneand prevent the loss ofalllife,” Takako whispered, more to herself than to anyone. It was almost a shock to hear her voice after so long, even more so to see the look of frustration marring her usually stoic face. “What happens if. . . We won’t have enough—”
A soft twinkle of laughter cut Takako off instantly; all eyes turned to Pan with a start. She was leaning back in her chair like she hadn’t a care in the world, even going so far as to raise her bare feet to the table, crossed at the ankles. When she wiggled her toes to get comfortable, her nail polish seemed to change color.
At the look of amusement on her face, Jo felt a stab of shock and annoyance deep into the center of her chest. An annoyance that morphed quickly into a defensive anger as the girl clicked her tongue and spoke.
“This is absolutely priceless.” She giggled, stretching lithely before working her fingers through the fine strands of blue hair curling in long waves around her head. Just yesterday it had been short and spiked, layered in tones of purple, hadn’t it? When Pan looked at her, Jo felt herself bristle. “What’s got everyone so worked up? I mean, it’s not like anyone is dead.” Then, gaze still locked lazily on Jo, she winked one cat-like eye. “Yet.”
If Jo thought the previous silence had been suffocating, this one was borderline lethal. The weight of her own surprise nearly consumed her. She might as well have choked on the bitter taste of her instant fury. Everyone seemed to suffer a similar loss beneath the blatant display of indifference. Everyone except Jo.
She swallowed back that fury and let it burn all the way down like a $2 gas station energy drink.
“Excuse me?” The words were more felt than heard, a seething hiss of a whisper past clenched teeth. Pan just continued to watch her, the obvious tilt of a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips.
“If everyone is so afraid of the consequences, then simply make sure to lessen the Severity of Exchange. You don’t want to put so much strain on poor little Snow. He’s already done so much for you and used up all his normal magic allocated for a wish. No help there to save you all.” Pan shrugged, twirling a curl around her finger over and over again. Jo didn’t know if the woman-child was actually oblivious or simply apathetic, but either way, she seemed to easily ignore the waves of Snow’s anger that roared overtop them all.Why did he stay silent?“I’m sure it’s hardly so difficult as you seem to be making it. Just get it done and make sure it’sperfect.”
For a long moment, Jo didn’t quite know what to say to that. Was she joking? Even if she was, did she not realize that humor wasdefinitelyuncalled for in this situation? Either way, Jo felt a pang of pure hatred rush down her spine. If not just for herself, or for the team, then for Takako.
“Just get it done?” Jo repeated, pushing away from her seat completely and walking along the curved length of the table in Pan’s direction. She thought she might have felt Wayne reach out to hold her back, but her focus was zeroed in on her target, her retort already spilling past her lips. “Who the hell do you think you are, acting like this is sosimple? We got to witnessexactlywhat would happen if we fail. We got to watch the death toll rise and the carnage spread, and you don’t get why we’re afraid? You don’t understand why we might be a little less than nonchalant about all this?”
Jo found herself suddenly standing right in front of Pan’s chair, leaning into the woman-child’s personal space in a way that should have been disturbing if not, at the very least, intimidating. Jo felt something visceral and sinister spike deep within her, fueling her outrage. Looking at Pan was like looking in a mirror but only seeing the worst reflected back. “No. You wouldn’t understand, would you? Because you spend all of your time in your room taking month-long naps you don’t need, and god knows what else, instead of actually doing your damn job like the rest of us.”
Pan looked completely nonplussed. “Then don’t fail,” she said, grinning with an ease that made Jo want to slap her across the face. “I’m sure, of all of you, Takako understands that best. Don’t you, pet?”
Jo hadn’t wanted to say anything, hadn’t wanted to bring too much painful attention to Takako’s family, to the raised stakes, to everything she had to lose if they failed. But hearing Pan comment so frivolously set Jo’s blood to outright boiling.
“How dare you!” she yelled, slamming a fist down on the table between them before pointing squarely into Pan’s chest. “She’s suffered more the last couple of days than any of us. And you just expect her to write that off, pretend she hasn’t had to grieve and move on enough to deal with all of this? What right do you have to be so. . . sopatronizing, you fuc—”
Suddenly, Jo felt her center of gravity being forced backwards, an arm flailing out to grasp at the hand currently gripping tight at her shoulder. “Jo, enough.” Eslar’s voice was in her ear, not quite scolding, but not soothing either. She hadn’t even realized she’d been nearly nose to nose with Pan until Eslar was practically dragging her back to her seat.
The look of smug amusement on Pan’s face, the embarrassed resignation on Takako’s, and the mix of disappointment and caution on Eslar’s, all fought for Jo’s first reaction. Not that any of those could possibly be right. Surely Jo wasn’t in thewronghere. . . was she?
“You’re just going to let her talk to us this way? Like the lives of these people don’t matter?” Jo shook her head, finally pulling away from Eslar’s grip. “Whose side are you on?” And then, as a more important question tickled the back of her mind, Jo became all too aware of the gazes currently pointed everywhere but at her or Pan. Jo tightened her hands into fists at her side, looking not at Eslar or Pan or at anyone else. No, with these words, she pointed her accusing stare right at Snow.
“What is wrong with you people?”Why are you all so afraid of her? Why are you letting her treat you this way?Jo wanted to say, pointing over her shoulder accusingly, ready to demand answers if not from Snow than from Pan herself. But Snow just shook his head and Jo felt herself pause.
Maybe it was the brief flash of something in his eyes, something a bit broken and definitely pleading that she could have simply imagined, or maybe she had just grown tired of fighting a clearly losing battle. Either way, Jo found herself rolling her eyes and plopping down with a huff into her seat. Snow nodded, taking the opportunity to jump back into the logistics of the wish, the time limit, and the necessity of their involvement.
But Jo was only half listening, instead looking almost continuously over at Pan.
This wasn’t over, not by a long shot, but by the stretch of Pan’s grin, it was obvious the woman was already stewing in her own victory. Jo would dig answers out of the very walls of the Society if she had to; somehow, she would figure out what made this woman so special, so frightening.
Pan was a puzzle that simply couldn’t go on unsolved.
Chapter 11
If Looks Could Kill
“ARE THERE ANY other questions?” Snow asked the room.
Everyone shook their heads, Jo included.
“I propose we remain here and begin to work out a plan of attack.” Eslar took the initiative when the rest of the group remained silent. “There is no time like the present.”
