“Throw off the police? You mean make mayhem?” Pan sat a little straighter. “Well, isn’t this a delightful turn of events. . .”
Takako ignored the woman-child, explaining further. “We each have a tactic for trying to shuffle the deck a bit.”
“My nickel and I will take on some of the witnesses and friends of to-be victims.” Wayne picked up the explanation, giving a flip of his coin for emphasis. “I’ll see to it that they forget key details of certain things—put it from their mind, I’ll say.”
“Meanwhile, I’ll make a few selective strikes. I won’t target the officers actively involved with the investigation, that’d be too flashy and risk widening the Severity of Exchange. Instead I’ll target the family members of those with information, give them the necessary motivation to avoid cooperating with the cops. Then, I’ll pick off a few unrelated individuals.”
“A-and I’ll carve their bones,” Samson said, in a voice so small Jo could barely hear him from two seats away. “That way it. . . The motive is unclear. Too much differing information. Unrelated links.”
“Strikes?Pick off?” Jo frowned. “You’re talking about killing people.” Takako could handle it, Jo had every faith that the soldier could chew glass if she wanted. But Samson. . . Just looking at his bowed head and unusually still hands told her everything she needed to know.
“It should lower the Severity of Exchange enough.” Eslar spoke as if Jo hadn’t even opened her mouth.
Jo looked between the elf and their leader. Snow’s jaw was clenched, the muscle there pulsing with tension. Finally, he said, “See it done. We’ll regroup afterward if the Severity of Exchange doesn’t close sufficiently.”
“We’re talking about killing people on amaybethat it’ll be enough.” Jo tried one last time to interject. “What happens if it’s not?”
“Then we try something else,” Snow replied briskly, as though the matter should be obvious.
“That’s not—”
“The world will be rebuilt regardless, once the wish is fulfilled. It’s impossible to say what lives, or possible lives, are lost when the reshuffling happens.”
She swallowed her pride and ignored her guilt. It was the same place she’d already landed before—the hands of those in the Society, one way or another, were far from clean. “Good luck, then.”
As if they’d been waiting for her blessing—a blessing that clearly didn’t matter because the wheels propelling them on the course of action were already turning—Wayne and Takako stood. Jo watched as Takako entered in her code at the Door, Wayne behind her. In less than a minute, they were both gone, to kill and threaten the innocent and protect a murderer. Even the idea of the Bone Carver being somewhat justified was no longer a palatable balm to the situation.
“I’ll be waiting in my room,” Samson announced. Eslar stood wordlessly with him and the two exited together.
Then, it was just three of them. Jo half expected Pan to make her move, to finish what had so clearly been started when it had just been her and Jo. But she gave a delicate little smile, a flutter of her lashes, then sauntered out of the room as well.
Jo looked helplessly to Snow, alone again.
“Would you like to—”
“I think I need a moment to process everything,” Jo interrupted delicately. “There’s a lot going on.”
He gave her a knowing look, walked up to her, and placed a hand on her arm, trailing it up to her shoulder. “Come to me when you’re ready.” With a gentle squeeze, as much reassurance as could be given in the moment, Snow left her to the empty briefing room and her thoughts.
“Thank you.” Jo didn’t know if he’d heard her, or if he was too far down the hall by the time she finally got the words out.
Jo’s ankles seemed to wobble a bit as she stood; her joints ached. It was as if her relentlessly tense muscles were finally ripping her limb from limb. Or perhaps, it was her magic that was killing her from the inside out. She was destruction, right? A demigod in a mortal casing, as Snow had said. If her magic could unravel the logics of reality, who was to say it wouldn’t do the same with her mortal form?
She paused, looking back to the Door. Not for the first time, she thought about leaving, running away from it all. But for the first time, Jo felt like she actually could. She’d broken the monitor, hadn’t she? She was destruction itself; not even Snow had denied the possibility of her success in that regard.
Other than fear of the unknown surrounding Pan, what was really stopping her from tearing apart the whole damn thing?
Chapter 21
The Final Pieces
Jo headed to her room for the first time in what felt like months.
She needed a bit of a reprieve, needed to breathe a moment and process everything she’d uncovered over the past three days, and everything that Snow had told her. Opening the door, Jo barged in without a thought.
And was brought up short.
The clicking of the door latch barely registered to her ears. Jo stared dumbly at the foreign tapestries. Her eyes scanned over the sweeping arched architecture, searching for something, all the while not knowing what exactly. She spun, taking in the lavish furniture, curling columns, and vast beyond outside her windows.
