With her eyes locked on Snow’s as they were, she could only see Pan’s shock in her periphery, but the ripple of confusion/disbelief/anger that traveled between the lingering bond of their magic said it all.
Jo turned her face to set her eyes on the Door. She craned her neck so far that her tendons felt like they would rip. As though she was now part owl, she twisted to look into the void the Door had held back all this time. Beyond it, she saw. . . light.
She saw light and life and a world as it could have been were it not for meddling demigods. She saw the foundations of a pillar that had been erected outside of time to house two divinities locked in stalemate. She saw, and she understood. For like hacking a server or destroying the stars, once Jo saw something, she knew how to dismantle it.
Snow had been right: dismantling the Society would bring about an end to everything.
They had destroyed the world once and ushered in a new age—her magic and his. The only difference now was that Jo wielded her power. She would not walk into this new dawn as a mortal, but as Destruction, as what she was meant to be. So Jo pushed herself through the doorway and into that blinding foundation where she landed like a time bomb whose clock had finally reached zero.
Chapter 27
Fragmented Data
The end was a beginning.
There was the sensation of unleashing her magic on the cornerstone of the world—pulling it out from the foundation with violent force. This compounded the feeling of falling, further than she ever had before. Jo thought she might fall forever until, as if by a sudden explosion, the light around her shattered and she hit the ground.
For what seemed like a brief moment, everything went dark.
Jo’s eyes fluttered open.
The world around her seemed to glitter, sparkle in a way that it never had before. She saw every leaf of the shrub near where she lay. It picked up the sunlight and cast it off with emerald perfection, far too vivid to be real.
Reaching a hand, Jo ran her fingers over the waxy leaf, confirming it was, indeed, real. She tipped her head back into the grass that tickled her ears and looked at the sky above. It was bright blue, crisper than she remembered, with large white swaths of clouds floating across the canvas at a surprising speed.
Between two clouds, she saw a shadow of what looked to be like some kind of large winged creature. It was a brief blur that happened so fast Jo couldn’t be certain it’d been real at all. An airplane, likely.
Airplane.
Airplanes needed skies. Leafy shrubs and grass needed sunlight. For everything around her to be real it meant that the world itself was real.
Jo bolted upright and took in her surroundings. It was a familiar street—quintessential suburbia. In front of her stood Charlie’s house. Or at least, it had been Charlie’s house. This was a new reality, after all—a new age, built by Snow.
She stood, dusting off the yard clippings that clung to her clothes. Her clothes—they were different, too. A long, flowing skirt was tied at her waist, the hem pooling around feet strapped into a gladiator-esque sandal. Above was a loose fitting tank top.Sort of. The two straps were leather capped and braced together at the shoulder, leaving her arms bare.
The clothes were comfortable, familiar even. Jo turned left and right, feeling the skirt float around her ankles. She’d worn this before.
It was what she’d worn when she’d split herself into Destruction and Chaos, ending the Age of Gods.
“I guess I look the part, now,” Jo mumbled as she made her way quickly toward the front porch. While nothing about her getup screamed “legendary divinity,” she certainly felt far enough from the norm that she didn’t want to draw anyone’s attention.
Jo raised her hand to the door, pausing a brief moment. If it was a new world, then Charlie wouldn’t remember her. She knocked anyway. If he didn’t remember her she’d apologize, excuse herself, and move on.
A blurred outline appeared behind the rectangular pane at the top of the Craftsman-style door. There was the sound of a latch being undone and the door opened. Jo never thought she’d be relieved to see a serial killer.
The feeling wasn’t mutual. Charlie looked her up and down, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Can I help you?”
“Do you know who I am?” Jo asked outright.
He froze at the question, ceasing his assessment and bringing his attention to her face. Charlie’s eyes scanned her and Jo hoped that it wasn’t the only thing scanning her. Even if he didn’t remember her, she’d dare to ask him what his readings said. What was the worst that could happen? He would get upset? Jo felt the ripple of magic underneath her skin reassuring her that if that happened, she would be just fine.
“No. . .”
She inhaled quickly, as if trying to revive her suddenly deflated hope. Of course he wouldn’t. If everything Jo had assumed was true had actually come to pass, then this was a new—
“Tell me why I should?” Something in his voice was far too curious and far too knowing to be mere chance.
“We met in a different world,” Jo blurted, out with the truth. “‘Different time’ might be a better statement.”
