“It has been,” he said. “Though Eslar has been here for much longer.”
A strange look came across Samson’s face at the mention of the elf, a look that despite its openness, Jo couldn’t seem to define. It sparked another thought that she wasn’t sure she should voice, but once new information was within reach, Jo couldn’t help herself.
“You must have spent a lot of time together. In the beginning.”
At this, Samson couldn’t help glancing in her direction, eyes wide with surprise. After a few moments, however, his face softened, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. He turned to face her more completely, leaning against the table and turning his back to the project. It was the first thing in hours capable of taking his attention away from the device. His eyes held a sadness in them that Jo couldn’t fathom, and for the first time since meeting the awkward and kind man, she felt as though she could see just how old he truly was.
“Perhaps we would have, were it not for me. We were each other’s only companions for many years—save Pan and Snow,” he said eventually, crossing his arms over his chest, stopping the slight rattle that suddenly seemed to overtake his hands. “But time does not heal all wounds. Not even after hundreds of years. And I—my wish—did the unthinkable to him.”
Jo wanted to ask what he meant, she couldn’t imagine Samson hurting a fly, let alone someone like Eslar. But he’d already turned back to the table, the atmosphere in the room heavy with tension and the sudden, obvious desire for silence.Thismust have been why Wayne had cautioned her against asking about wishes all those months ago. Part of Jo wondered if she should leave, but she didn’t move. Jo continued to study what she now knew was the second oldest member of the Society (ignoring Pan and Snow, as most seemed to do on such topics).
“Jo?” Samson said her name just as she’d pushed away from the table. He continued his task, but motioned with his chin toward the side counter of tools. “Will you pass me my pliers? I think they’re somewhere by the screwdrivers. Then I’ll need you to look at this again with that magic of yours. I think I finally have it sorted.”
Jo blinked her own surprise, then found herself smiling. It felt like a peace offering, and even though she had more questions now than answers, she took it easily, handing him his pliers and settling back in to check his work.
Chapter 17
ESP
JO REMAINED WITH Samson until his fingers were red and raw and her eyes were bleary.
Somewhere along the way, she’d lost all understanding of exactly how the pieces fit together. They were mapped in such a way that only Samson’s mind (and magic) could comprehend. But Jo had absolute faith in the man and his command of his project. She focused on doing as he asked, looking at this or that, making sure there wasn’t an obvious way she could see the machine and its various mechanisms short-circuit, break, or otherwise come apart—short of smashing it with a hammer, or exerting enough of her magic on it. The more she worked with Samson, the more confident Jo became that she could destroy anything she wanted if she merely exerted enough force of will.
Samson leaned away from the table, wiping his brow. “I think that’s it.” He tilted his head this way and that.
“I got nothing else.” Jo affirmed. She tilted her head to the side, looking at the machine. As much as she didn’t want to come off as questioning Samson’s work, she also had a curiosity that couldn’t be satiated. “Shouldn’t it have rolls of paper, and a needle?”
“Everything is internal here—digital. All the sensors are contained within so they have the least chance of being acted on by external forces. It was a modification I made early on, given your insights.”
Jo gave an approving nod and slung an arm around his shoulders, giving them a friendly squeeze. “Well, I think you’ve done a great job.”
Samson tensed initially, but relaxed before Jo could pull away. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “And thank you for your help with this.”
“Anytime you need me to figure out how to break your things, I’m here. I did promise help with some of your other tinkerings.”And I won’t pry about your personal matters next time, Jo promised mentally.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Samson nodded. “For now, you should take a breather from this wish.”
“What?” Jo stiffened. “Why?” She knew she’d messed up, but she’d been doing all she could to fix it. To be denied participation now—
“Because you have been working non-stop. Give your mind a rest.”
“But—”
“I’ll get this to Wayne and Takako. They can get it to the scientists.” He lifted the contraption, starting for the door. Jo was close behind.
“Are you sure?” Jo asked, cautiously believing that this decision truly came from a place of concern over her mental wellbeing and not some sly tactic propelled out of frustration for her ineptitude at the onset of the wish.
“Working on a wish is exhausting. Let us share some of the load,” he said over his shoulder.
“My mind is mush,” she admitted. “But I feel too wound tight to even relax a little. I doubt taking a break from the wish would make it any better.” If anything, it could honestly stress her out more.
“Perhaps you should try anyway?” It was odd to see Samson so pushy. Jo took it as a sign of true concern, and a marker for the fact that she should actually listen to him. He certainly would know what he was talking about.
“Well, Ihadbeen talking to Nico about picking up a new hobby,” Jo said as the door closed behind them.
“Like what?”
“He asked the same thing, and like I told him. . . I have no idea.” Jo grinned and, much to her pleasant surprise, Samson grinned back.
