“How are you liking the book?”
“Oh, fine. . . I’m kind of a slow reader, so I’m only at the part where the God of Fortune is meeting with the Goddess of the Hunt to discuss crafting a weapon.”
Eslar hummed, nodding, flipping the page of his own manuscript.
The book wasn’t what she wanted to talk about, and he must know it. Jo swallowed, glancing toward the door. They were alone, but for how long? She had to chance it. Things were going well between her and one of the oldest members of the Society; this was as good an opportunity as any. “Should we get Pan as well?”
To his credit, Eslar was unrattled. “Do you really want to subject Takako to that again?”
“As she said, she can stand up for herself.”
“Can you trust yourself around her?” Eslar raised his narrowed his eyes, no doubt referring to the temper Pan brought out in Jo.
“Trust myself not to do what? Is there something I should be worried about?” The memory of the woman-child with a blood-red sky behind her flashed unbidden before Jo’s eyes.
“She brings out something in you.”
“And why do you think that is?” Jo knew why: it was because Pan was a barely tolerable twat, nothing more or less.
“Perhaps it’s because Pan is the oldest among us, and the closest to Snow,” Eslar said, almost nonchalantly. But the casual words were obviously loaded.
Before Jo could probe further onexactlywhat he meant, especially about the Snow bit, Wayne returned with not just Takako in tow.
“Good morning, Jo.” Nico gave her a cheerful smile, quickly crossing over. “How is it that you don’t have a cup in hand?”
“Because I’ve already had two cups.”
“Then I take it you don’t need a third?” he asked, heading into the kitchen.
“Blasphamy good sir!” Jo said dramatically. Nico chuckled, and gave a nod, already making espresso. It was the only spot of levity she could find before her eyes fell on Takako, who sat heavily next to her.
“How did it go?”
Jo opened her mouth to answer but Eslar responded by (finally) turning on the TV instead.
Everyone stopped all movement the moment a newscaster appeared.
It took a moment for Jo to properly hear the broadcast. She wanted to chalk it up to having focused for so long on translating Elvish. But that wasn’t the case.
It was her mind reeling as the words she’d expected to hear and the ones currently being spoken clashed in severe counterpoint with each other. She even found herself reading the notices at the bottom of the screen over and over again, as if maybe she’d discover that her magical, internal translator was somehow out of whack.
But no matter how hard she tried, the words continued on unchanged.The world went on unchanged. And that was entirely the problem.
“. . . Japanese Government has issued a statement explaining that there is no scientific evidence to support such claims and all scientific agencies responsible for monitoring potential natural disasters did not issue the warning either. Therefore, Prime Minister Nakamura has deemed the evacuation call a cyber-attack, and requested that all citizens ignore the recent evacuation requests as they look into the organization responsible for these hacks.”
Jo was on her feet. Her heart raced. Her hands balled into fists. Her face flushed not with anger but sheer horror.
“Currently, they are not linked to any terrorist group and appear to be a rogue attack set to strike fear into the populous and cause chaos. While the motivations are still currently unknown, the Prime Minister has sworn to uncover the truth, vowing to allocate emergency funds to the PSIA to ensure the safety of the citizenry. In light of the news of his swift and decisive action, Nakamura’s approval ratings have risen nearly 33 percent, a steep rise just before the elections. . .”
The newscaster’s voice faded to a static buzz. As if all language magic had worn off beneath sheer, appalled disbelief, Jo could barely understand the words at all anymore. Only one statement cut through the humming between her ears.
“Nice try, hotshot.”
She spun on her heel, staring down Wayne. “I did everything perfectly!”
“Clearly not.” Eslar looked up at her, as if challenging her to try to intimidate him. As if accusing her for spending so much time lounging when there was work to be done.Not that she’d known.
“The last time I looked in the recreation room not more than three hours ago, things seemed to be going smoothly. People were beginning to move. I-I set up the evacuation notices, I planted information in scientific databases—”
